“You have to get out of here,” Colt said.

My back stiffened. “I told you—I’ve finished running.”

He grabbed my wrist and tugged. “Then I’m dragging you out of here because she’s got evil in her eyes, Mags. She’s out to get you.”

I released a nervous laugh. “Do you know how paranoid that sounds?”

“After everything that’s happened, you think that sounds paranoid?”

He pulled me out of the back door and into the parking lot.

“I don’t have my car.”

“I called an Uber, but you’re not going home.” He pressed a key into my hand. “The Uber is taking you to my apartment. It’s apartment 301. Tilly and the rest of us are covering for you, so stay there until I finish up. I’ll come get you, and we’ll figure out what to do next.”

A car pulled around the side of the building, and Colt guided me toward it and opened the back door.

“Colt . . .” I said, looking up into his eyes. I’d given him grief over something that was obviously personal, and yet he was putting himself on the line to help me. Again. “About this afternoon—”

“Stop right there. You had every right to be upset, and I’m going to explain some of that after I get done here. Call me if you need me.”

I threw my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”

He gave me a short kiss on the lips and broke loose. “You need to go. Now.” Then he pushed me into the backseat and shut the door.

The driver took off, and Colt watched for a moment before he went back inside. As I reached for the phone in my pocket, I realized I didn’t have my purse. Hopefully Colt or Tilly would remember to grab it, but right now I felt naked without the gun hidden underneath my wallet.

Since Colt had ordered the Uber, I had no idea where I was going. I was surprised when it headed toward Brentwood. The car pulled into the parking lot of a luxury apartment complex, then pulled around to the back and stopped outside a door.

“This is it?” I asked, looking up at the building. I’d always pictured Colt living in a dive.

“Building 4,” he said as if I’d lost my mind.

I got out and headed inside. There was an elevator, but I decided to take the stairs to buy more time. Colt had always told me I couldn’t come to his apartment because he had roommates. How would they react to me just showing up?

When I walked up to his apartment, I knocked on the door, not wanting to walk in and surprise anyone, but when no one answered, I used the key Colt had given me. I’d expected to find thrift store furniture, not furniture that looked like it had come out of Restoration Hardware.

“Hello?” I called out in case one of Colt’s roommates was home. I headed down a short hallway to check out the bedrooms. I found a home office with a desk and a computer and a bedroom with a nice furniture set and masculine bedding.

Colt didn’t have any roommates.

I knew he’d told me a lot of white lies as part of his cover, but this seemed like a huge one. Colt worked for the Belles and some part-time musician gigs. The way I saw it, he didn’t make enough money to cover the rent in this place.

Had my father paid for this?

The thought made me sick. I’d ask Colt when he showed up.

I headed into the kitchen and opened the fridge, fully aware that I was snooping. His fridge was mostly empty, with the exception of a carton of eggs, a bottle of ketchup, and several bottles of beer and water. I grabbed one and found a bottle opener in a drawer, then looked out of the living room window, taking in the view of the parking lot, which was full of nice cars—further confirmation that this apartment was outside of Colt’s budget.

So this was why he’d never wanted me to come here. He’d always told me his apartment was off-limits, even when I was in danger. But I suspected there was also more to it—Colt Austin was a charmer who thought on his feet, so he could have come up with some believable explanation for living here. No, I was pretty sure he had been hiding something else from me, and I would have bet money there were clues in his home office.

Feeling like a traitor, I went into the second bedroom and flipped on the light. At first glance, there wasn’t anything obvious. No papers. No bulletin boards. The desktop computer was password-protected, and the user name consisted of letters and numbers: A12M36. I knew there was no way I’d guess the password, so I didn’t waste my time trying. I opened the closet doors and found some men’s clothes that didn’t look like anything Colt would wear—dress shirts, pants, and ties. A few khakis and polos, and two pairs of jeans. Had a former roommate left these behind?

I walked past a guest bathroom and headed into the other bedroom and opened the closet. The clothes in there were 100% Colt—jeans, T-shirts and Henleys, and plaid button-down shirts. His bathroom was cleaner than expected, and his shampoo and conditioner were in the marble-tiled shower.

I hadn’t been sleeping well and I was exhausted, so I went back into the bedroom and lay down on the bed, feeling comforted because the pillows smelled like Colt. I’d drifted off to sleep, but I woke up about a half hour later when I heard a male voice outside the bedroom.

“—I know you want your cut,” the man said, “but the money doesn’t arrive until tomorrow.”

It wasn’t Colt, but the voice sounded familiar. Suddenly it hit me.

It was my father, talking to someone on the phone.

“I told you I’d make good and I meant it. We’re almost there now. Be patient.”

So he really was here for the annuity. Who was he making good with? Bill James? He seemed like the likely source.

My breath stuck in my chest and I froze, thankful that I was hiding in the dark. Tears welled in my eyes. For fourteen years, I’d been sure this man was dead, but he’d been in town since the Arts Council fundraiser and hadn’t made a single effort to contact me. What would I do if he walked through that door and found me in here?

“What the fuck are you doing here?” I heard Colt call out from the living room.

“I pay for this place, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“You said you were leaving,” Colt said.

“And I will, but I’m not ready to go yet. I thought you were staying with Magnolia,” my father said.

Was Colt still reporting to him? Colt had sworn that he hadn’t been in contact with my father since he’d heard about Emily’s murder.

“How do you know that?” Colt asked. “You have someone following me?”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” my father said. “I’ve had someone following Magnolia.” He paused. “I thought you said she was done with the cop.”

“I never told you any such thing,” Colt said, sounding pissed. “I’m done answering to you.”

“And what about Delilah?” my father asked. “Are you willing to risk her life?”

I gasped and sat up. Had my father just threatened someone’s life? Was Delilah the woman Colt had lost when my father had screwed up his life?

“For three years, I’ve done what you asked. I’ve done things that keep me awake at night. But I draw the line at hurting Magnolia. Physically or emotionally. She deserves better from the both of us.”

“You have no business sleeping with her, Austin. You don’t deserve her.”

“You lost the right to decide anything about her life the night you left fourteen years ago. You broke her heart for your selfish greed. You’re the fucker who doesn’t deserve her.”

“She’s out of your league, Austin. She’s going to leave you when she finds out about Delilah, and she will find out about her, because I’ll make sure that she does.”

“Do you really hate her that much?” Colt asked in dismay. “She just lost her mother. Her brother treats her like shit, and you’re about to dick around with her life. Again. Leave her the fuck alone, Steele.”

“She’s my daughter. You have no right to tell me what to do.”

“If you care about her at all, then for the love of God, leave her alone,” Colt said, his voice getting closer.

“Where is she now?” my father asked. “You’re supposed to be watching her.”

“I told you I’m done reporting to you. Do your worst, Steele. Magnolia is my priority now.”

My father laughed. “Oh, my God. You’re in love with her.”

Tears stung my eyes. This was not the man I remembered from my childhood. I’d known that, of course, but it felt different to actually witness it.

“Maybe I am,” Colt said, his anger rising. “What she went through would have destroyed most people, yet she has overcome it. She’s an amazing woman—she’s strong and brave and so damned resilient, but you don’t know any of that because you traded her for money. Guess what, Steele? You lost.”

“When this is all settled, I’m going to reach out to her. But not yet. It’s too soon.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” Colt said, outside the bedroom door. “You’re too damn late.”

I slid off the bed and padded across the floor into the bathroom. My heart was breaking, tears were flowing down my cheeks, and I was trying to figure out whether I should let my father know I was here. I heard the bedroom door open. Then the closet door.

“You forget that this is my apartment,” my father said from the bedroom.

“No, Brian,” Colt said, “I’m aware of it every fucking day, but the contract has my name on it, so while you might have paid for it, legally it’s mine. But don’t you worry—I’m moving out. Find someone else to be your minion.”

“She’s only with you because she needs someone,” my father taunted. “When she gets back on her feet, she’ll dump you so fast your head will spin.”

“You might be right, but I’ll take every minute I can with her until she realizes she can do a hell of a lot better than me.” The bathroom door opened, and the light flipped on. Colt walked in, and his eyes went wide when he saw me. But he quickly recovered and shut the door. He turned on the sink faucet and then pulled me to his chest and wrapped his arms around me, holding me close.

“Maggie,” he whispered into my ear. “I’m so sorry.”

I buried my face into his chest, trying not to sob and give myself away.

“When I came home and found him and no sign of you, I was terrified.” He held me tighter. “Thank God you’re okay.”

I was far from okay, but I knew what he meant.

“What do you want to do?” he asked. “Do you want to confront him, or do you want me to get rid of him?”

I had so many things I wanted to say, but I wasn’t sure I could handle it. Yet I’d waited fourteen years for a chance to see him. Was I really going to throw it away? “I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

He kissed the top of my head. “That’s okay. I’m going to go finish packing. If you decide to come out, you do it, okay? If not, I’ll get rid of him.”

“But how will you explain coming in here and finding me and not telling him?”

Anger contorted his face. “I don’t give a single fuck what that man thinks of me. If you change your mind, come out. I have your back.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

He squeezed me and let me go. After he flushed the toilet, he grabbed his shampoo and conditioner out of the shower. He turned off the sink faucet, then turned off the light and opened the door.

“What the hell were you doing in there?” my father asked.

“You want a play-by-play of my bathroom experience?” Colt asked sarcastically. “I knew you were controlling, but that takes the cake.”

“Where’s Magnolia, Colt?”

“That’s not my job anymore.”

“You’ve spent the last four nights with her. It sounds like it’s still your job. You just haven’t given me a report.”

I cringed at the reminder.

“I thought you claimed she’s in danger,” my father said.

“She is in danger. You just refuse to believe it.”

“Rowena is dead. Geraldo Lopez is dead. And so are Neil Fulton and Walter Frey, although he was not a threat to her. Bill took off. There’s no one left to hurt her.”

“What about the serial killer?”

“Serial killer?”

Without even thinking, I walked out of the bathroom and faced my father for the first time in fourteen years. “Hello, Daddy. You have a hell of a lot of explaining to do.”