I sit, sipping smooth scotch as I stare at Cami. She’s trembling, terrified, perhaps hating me with every fiber of her being, I’m sure. Good. Let her fear and hate me. Those emotions will stop her from doing something stupid.

Like running.

Like fighting.

Like calling for help.

What should I do with her? I’m here, holding the bag as always. I’m forever cleaning up after Kieran’s messy mistakes.

But I’ll clean up his messes. Like I always have.

He should be the one questioning her right now. He should be the one fixing this. He should have hunted her down, should have cornered her, threatened her; he should have secured his safety. And the safety of my niece, Olivia.

Cami already took Olivia once. She almost killed her that time. Does he really need it to happen again before he takes her seriously?

I glance at her, seeing how she’s cowering in her chair like I’m going to stoop to the level of hitting her. Son of a bitch, I don’t hit women. I’m many brands of monster, but a woman beater isn’t one of them. I draw the line at intimidation.

And true to form, I walk over and place both hands on either side of the back of her chair. Leaning down, I push my face near hers, leaving only inches between us. Deep in her dark blue eyes, I see anger, resentment, and the one I cherish; fear.

“Cami,” I say her name to make sure she’s paying full attention to me and every word that comes out of my mouth. I need her to know how serious this is. Her eyes are locked on mine and she’s hardly breathing.

I’d say she’s paying attention.

“I need you to tell my why you were following Olivia.” I say and her eyes begin to tear up like I’ve asked an impossible question. One she can’t possibly answer. Her eyes jolt to my arms as my fists lock on the chair and she sees the flex tighten every inch of my upper body.

“She’s my daughter, Connor. I just wanted to see her.” Her tears are flowing freely now and she’s staring at me as if she expects me of all people to get it. After the unforgivable shit she’s done, she better feel lucky I’ve got a no woman beating rule.

But there’s more information I need from her. Information that’ll keep me from sleeping. Information that has kept me from sleeping since she came back into our lives like a demolition derby champion intent on wrecking every last rig again.

I clench my jaw to keep my emotions in check. And she seems to not only see that, but correctly interpret it as well.

I ask her in a voice manufactured by tempered steel and control. “Were you planning on snatching her again?”

I stare her down again, silently warning her that I’ll know if she lies to me. And I won’t be so forgiving if she lies. No, a lie is a threat of harm and I’ll treat her accordingly.

Her lower lip drops and I see a flash of the beautiful woman Kieran had fallen in love with. But years of substance abuse and neglect have stripped her of all but the framework of someone who clearly used to be pretty. It’s both sad and fitting, really. All beauty eventually fades, it’s the nature of the game. And it’s the reason I prefer substance over looks. Brains over beauty.

But she is slowly shaking her head as if the thought of snatching Olivia had never even crossed her mind. And the shock in the very depths of her eyes leaves me believing it. After all, snatching Olivia before had been something she did while wasted on whatever drug she’d been indulging in at the time, and likely a generous helping of alcohol as well.

I lean a bit closer as I’ve drifted back a few inches to give her the impression I’m letting up and she can let her guard down. Once more, her eyes slash back and forth between mine and I know she’s got all attention on me.

Good.

“Why were you calling his work every day?” I ask, needing to know what she was thinking. It was clearly a power play. A way to fuck with his head, to silently threaten him, to let him know she was there and had no plans of leaving.

But it didn’t work.

Because Kieran is a fucking idiot. He thinks a single body guard on his daughter was enough to keep her safe from a dangerous, violent criminal with a history of snatching the girl right out from under his nose.

Cami doesn’t answer. Instead, she squeezes her eyes closed, forcing the tears in them to flow down her cheeks.

I give her chair a little shake, enough to jolt her but not unseat her. Enough to scare her. Enough to persuade her to answer me. Even if that answer is a squeak of denial as she shakes her head no with so much force, I’m sure it aches in her neck.

“Were you trying to threaten him?” I ask. It seems like the only reason. I mean, there’s no sane reason to stalk someone like that, so I’m still arguing details with a nut job, but I have to go with what I know.

She shakes her head, finally opening her eyes to look up at me. With several fast blinks, she clears the tears from her eyes.

I don’t feel bad for her. “Why then, Cami?” I ask, all my hate and anger threatening her with a lower growl in my words. I know she hears it. Every muscle in her body tightens up like I’m hurting her. And maybe I am. Maybe without even touching her, I’m subjecting her to as much torture as she’s inflicted on my damn family for the better part of the last decade.

But she stays silent. With wide eyes, she stares me down, no give in her expression. Which is unfortunate for her. Because she’s in for a nasty surprise.

One I’m ready to deliver.

“I’m not letting you go until you tell me what I want to know.”