Chapter 21: Chapter 20

Her hand burned. The feel of those long, slender fingers curved around mine seared me to the spot. It had been so long since I’d felt any sort of comfort like this—the feeling was completely foreign.

Rho looked up at me, those hazel eyes swirling. “Pain can’t taint others. That’s not how it works.”

She was wrong. The ugliness I’d faced wasn’t any sort of normal pain. And the events of last night had stirred it all up again.

Rho squeezed my hand, bringing me back to her. To the here and now. “But someone can help you carry the load. Whatever you’ve been through, I know it’s heavy.”

My throat constricted. Some part of me wanted to lay it all at Rhodes’ feet. To tell her every fucked-up detail. But I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing disgust in those gorgeous eyes.

“Anson!”

Shep’s voice pulled me from my swirling thoughts, and I jerked my hand from Rho’s hold. I didn’t miss the flicker of hurt in her eyes. This was why I stayed away. Because I was already doing damage.

Shep jogged over to us. “You find everything we needed?”

I jerked my head in a nod. I’d been at the only electronics store in a hundred-mile radius that opened at eight. They’d had the kind of equipment that would at least tide us over until Shep could order more of the good stuff his tech-obsessed brain loved.

“They had the basics. You order the rest?” I asked.

“It’ll be here the day after tomorrow. But this’ll let us at least get the core system installed,” he said.

Rho looked back and forth between us. “What are you guys talking about?”

Shep slowly turned toward his sister. “I know you’re not crazy about alarm systems, but⁠—”

“Shep,” she growled. “You are not putting one of those ridiculous systems in my house. It’s too much. I’ll never remember the code. One of my foster critters or I will trip the sensors you love so much. And one of Trace’s deputies will be out here every few hours. No.”

He pinned her with a stare. “You need a system. It’s this or you move in with one of us.”

Defiance lit in Rho’s eyes, making the gold dance. “Don’t order me around, Shepard Colson.”

He winced. “Rho. Someone set your house on fire last night. They left behind a very clear threat. You need protection, and you need it now.”

All the air went out of her on a whoosh. “Trace is already assigning me to the drive-by route.”

“Which means deputies will be out here every couple of hours. A lot can happen between those visits.”

My gut soured at the thought, but I knew Shep was right. It only took seconds for your whole world to crumble.

Rho worried her bottom lip. “Alarm system, cameras outside, but no crazy sensors or anything.”

“We have to install sensors on your doors and windows. That’s how an alarm works. But I promise, no motion detectors,” Shep vowed.

“Fine. But you’d better make the code numbers easy for me to remember,” she grumbled.

“My birthday, then,” Shep joked.

Rho stuck her tongue out at him. “You’re getting socks for your next birthday and that’s it. And I’m telling Lolli you want another shirtless elf diamond painting for your collection.”

Shep’s jaw went slack. “You wouldn’t.”

Rho just arched a brow in challenge. “That depends on if you keep your security system word. And that includes you not turning my house into some freaky robot home.”

I choked on a half laugh, half cough, and Shep sent me a dirty look. His specialty was building homes with elaborate tech. Speakers built into every room for both stereo systems and intercoms. All appliances, lighting, and locks that you could control with your smartphone. He loved every nerdy detail, but it was clear that Rho did not.

“Some people would appreciate me bringing their homes into the twenty-first century,” Shep groused.

“Then find those people. I do not want some possessed AI taking over my space and murdering me in my sleep.”

Shep just shook his head at her. “You gotta stop going to those horror movies with Fallon.”

Rho pinned him with a stare. “It could happen. You don’t know what all that crud is capable of.”

“It’s capable of whatever I program it to do,” he argued, looking at me for help.

I held up both hands. “I like the security, but I can leave the rest of that stuff. I like turning on the lights with a good old-fashioned switch.”

“See?” Rho asked.

“You’re hopeless. Both of you.” Shep motioned me toward his truck. “Come on. Let’s get started on the install.”

I knew I needed to follow him, but I couldn’t help stealing one more glance at Rho. To get another hit of that light. But she was already staring right back at me. Gone was the teasing expression she’d had for Shep. In its place was raw vulnerability.

“If you ever decide to let someone shoulder the load with you for a little while, I’m here.” She didn’t wait for me to answer; simply turned around and headed back to the guesthouse, taking her light with her as she left.

I watched her go for too long, as though I could see the particles she left in her wake. I wanted to grab each one and hold them close. But they were like fireflies. If you kept them captive, they’d die. All you could do was relish having them swirl around you in the moments they graced you with their presence.

As the door to the guest cottage closed, I forced myself to turn around. Shep waited at my truck, but his gaze was locked on me. His eyes weren’t exactly hard, but they were wary.

A few colorful curses flew around in my brain, all of them directed squarely at myself. This wasn’t me. Staring after some woman I barely knew and feeling like I was missing some fundamental part of myself when she walked away.

Except that wasn’t exactly true. While I didn’t know the ins and outs of Rho’s day-to-day, her favorite color or food, we had shared my only real moments of truth since Greta’s death. She was the only one I’d let see even a hint of my pain.

Because I hadn’t felt like I deserved to let others in on my suffering. Not when the pain was my fault to begin with. But somehow, in those tiny stolen moments with her, Rho had shattered the walls I’d constructed around that pain. She’d made it okay to let some pieces free.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Shep said as I approached.

God, he did not want to know the honest answer there. That I couldn’t stop thinking about his sister. A woman who was eight years my junior. Someone he was more than a little protective of.

“I think we need to get a system in place with a world of cameras,” I muttered.

“Anson…”

There was so much there in just my name. A weight I wasn’t sure I could shoulder.

“I need you, man. We need to know what we’re dealing with. If you give Trace your credentials, he’ll let you consult⁠—”

“No.” The word cracked like a whip. “No one knows.”

It was a minor miracle that no one had figured it out yet. There’d been articles written about me. Primetime interviews. Not to mention the books I’d written on the intricacies of the criminal mind. Only the fact that I’d gone by my middle name as my last had saved me from simple Google searches.

It hadn’t saved me from far darker forces.

“This is my sister,” Shep ground out. “Some sick fuck burned her house and left a threat. We need to find out who did this.”

That weight settled on my chest, the familiar tightness that made it hard to grab hold of even one solid breath. “I’m not sure you want me trying to figure it out.”

Because I’d failed before—when it counted the most.

But even as the thoughts swirled, I knew I wouldn’t be able to look away. Because Rho mattered. Even though I didn’t want her to.

My brain was already trying to put together the pieces. It was searching for patterns and behaviors, triggers and responses. And I couldn’t stop it.

Shep stared hard at me. “You’re the best hope we have.”

Fuck.

That was not what I wanted to hear. I didn’t want to be anyone’s hope. Not with my track record. But I still found myself saying, “Get me the fire crew’s report. Have Trace pull any other fires in the year before or after that weren’t wildfires. I know there are at least three. But don’t tell him I asked.”

“He’s already getting me the report for the few you requested earlier, but I’ll ask for any others.”

My jaw worked back and forth. I knew it was a tell. I used to be better at hiding them, but emotion was riding me too damn hard. “What reason did you give?”

“Told him that some of what we were seeing in the rehab didn’t match up with an electrical fire. Wanted to make sure we hadn’t missed anything.”

It was a good excuse. It also wasn’t a lie. The fire didn’t make sense. Not the fact that the smoke alarms didn’t wake the family in time to escape, and not how quickly the blaze had spread.

Facts strung together in new connections, like a web of stars in the darkness of my mind.

“What?” Shep asked, instantly on edge.

I shook my head. “I don’t know. Not yet.”

But I couldn’t help but wonder. What if someone had set that fire all those years ago? And what if they’d come back to finish what they started?