CAMERON

Searching through the spare room took hours—far longer than I’d anticipated. Every minute that ticked past, every second, my muscles tightened, my anxiety ratcheted up just that little bit more.

When frustration wasn’t heightening my stress, guilt was. I’d taken this day, one of the last I had with Piper, and spent it searching a dirty old house instead of spending it with her. I sighed, placing another piece of paper to the side. A shopping list. Fan-bloody-tastic.

And yet, I didn’t feel as if the hours were entirely wasted. Having all this time alone, without Piper, without Everly, reminded me just how much I missed them both. Every now and then I’d hear a phantom laugh, a cry that should have belonged to my little girl. Every now and then I’d hear the soft pad, pad, pad of Everly’s feet across the floorboards as she came into the room.

The mind could do funny things.

If only it could help me find something to force Giselle’s hand.

“Damn it,” I muttered, finishing the final piece of paper on her desk. A silver laptop gleamed in the light as I stood, stretching my arms above my head. I glared at it. I’d tried to access the files, but of course they were password protected, and I may have been many things but I sure as shit wasn’t a hacker.

Maybe I could take it with me, get one of the boys from work who’s good with computers to try get in. Return it before she got out.

God, who did I think I was? James Bond? It hardly seemed likely. All my passwords were so simple—so easy. Bella. It would hardly take an international man of mystery to figure that out.

But maybe it’s time they changed.

As I moved to switch off the light, I stopped. Wait. If my passwords were Bella, wouldn’t that mean that maybe Giselle’s were—

I raced to the laptop, pushing the lid open. The blue screen lit up, the cursor blinking in that little white box. I took a deep breath and typed it in. This had to work. Surely, this would be not only the way into her computer but the solution to all my problems. Piper.

Incorrect password.

God damn it!

I slammed my fist down on the desk. Papers flew to the floor. I scrubbed my face with my hand, cursing. What the hell was I going to do? How was I going to live without Piper in my life?

Everly’s voice floated through my mind. We’re going to fight for this.

She was right. I was going to fight for this with everything I had.

Desperately, I typed combinations into the keypad, searching for anything that might unlock it. Piper2017. P1per! P1p3r!:)

Nothing worked.

Incorrect, incorrect, incorrect.

Just as I was about to give up, a flash of inspiration came to me. If Wayne really was the father—as much as I hated to think he could be—perhaps he was her password.

I typed his name in, and it flashed up incorrect too.

Damn it.

I glanced at the clock in the top right-hand corner of the computer screen. Six. When did it get so late? I’d be missing bath time, story time, bed. The third last you might ever have.

Frustration fired through me. This day had been a total bust.

I pushed back from the chair, walking through the house and grabbing my keys and wallet from the counter and sliding them in my pocket. I’d use the bathroom then head back home. Everly had been right—this was a waste of time. But at least it was done now, and I didn’t have those what ifs lurking in the back of my mind. I had done everything I could.

As I washed my hands in that dirty sink, I looked up at the lipstick scrawl in the mirror I’d seen that very first day. It felt like another part of my life. Piper & Giselle 4eva. Maybe it really would be. If only there was room for a Cameron there, too.

The faucet turned off with a squeak, and I froze. Piper and Giselle 4eva.

What if that was it?

I raced through the house, my shoulder catching on the doorway as I made it back to the study. I fell into the seat, the wheels sliding only slightly on the carpet as I opened the laptop once more and typed it in. Piper&Giselle4eva.

Instantly, the screen in front of me came to life. The blue background changed to a close-up photo of the little girl and her mum, their faces too close to the camera, both smiling, both happy. Yes! I’d done it—I was in.

Emails, social media icons—they flooded her screen and I stopped, biting my lip. Which would she most likely use? Would there be any sort of proof of anything anywhere?

On a whim, I opened her email. Hundreds of messages loaded, and I shook my head. I didn’t have time to go through this now—I could hardly expect Mack to stay all night, and my stupid phone was dead. I couldn’t even let him know what had happened.

I stared at the search bar. What was I going to type in? Drugs? Dealing? Secrets I don’t want the police to know?

For hell’s sake. This wasn’t me, and it wasn’t legal. Could I even use anything I found, if I found a thing at all?

Just as I was about to give up, I typed in his name—Wayne.

Bingo. He was mentioned every now and then in emails to other people, and there were several between him and Giselle. I clicked on one recent one and skimmed the contents. It was coming up to their anniversary. Wouldn’t it be nice if they could go away together? She’d replied saying they should send their story into Flirter.

I snorted. So Wayne and Giselle had found each other on a dating app commonly known to be used by people just out for sex. I wasn’t at all surprised.

Hang on …

I typed in the app and Wayne’s name. More results, but nowhere near as many as before. I clicked on the button at the top of the screen to show the emails in reverse date order, from oldest to newest.

I clicked on the email at the top, reading it.

You have one new match—Wayne Cunningham.

Dated August, 2016.

Wayne had only met Piper in August. My brain whirred through the numbers. If he was the father, that would make Piper six months, seven tops, instead of the almost ten months she was now.

“Holy shit!” I whispered.

My hand shook as I forwarded the email to my personal address. This wasn’t what I’d been looking for, but in a way, it was better. Proof. Proof that she was making shit up just to try and keep our daughter from me. Proof that I likely was the father and she was running scared.

I didn’t know if Bentley could use this, given I hadn’t exactly obtained it legally, but surely it would give him the confidence needed to take this to court. We were going to win. Piper was going to stay in my life forever.

I slammed the computer closed. Hell yes. It felt as if my body were alive, each cell thrumming. Everly. I couldn’t wait to tell her.

As I strode through the house, I paused in front of the linen cupboard. I hadn’t bothered to search it yet. Still, it was worth a look. I had what I needed, but more incriminating evidence wouldn’t hurt.

I opened the door, and it creaked as I did.

It looked exactly as I’d left it. Sheets neatly folded. Towels rolled to one side. Gun case—

Shit.

The gun case was open.

The gun was missing.

As I slowly closed the cupboard door, I heard something. A creak. I was sure of it.

And it didn’t come from me.

A door slammed shut at the front of the house.

My heart thundered in my chest. Oh shit.

Footsteps thudded across the floor. A voice echoed down the hall, loud and brutal, and as it did I wondered if I’d just made the biggest mistake of my life. If I’d ruined my chances with Piper forever.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”