10
Rex
I jerked up to sitting. Darkness played against the walls, my bedroom lit with the faintest hue of the moon streaming in through the crack in the curtains. I blinked away the edge of sleep I’d been riding, shaking off the nightmare that drenched my skin with sweat, glancing at the clock that told me it was just passed three a.m. on Monday morning.
This time . . . this time, it wasn’t the dream that’d pulled me from sleep.
I tilted my head and focused on the faint sound that seeped into my room.
Crying.
That was all it took for me to throw back my covers and jump to my feet. I flew out my door and through Frankie’s, skidding to a stop at the side of her bed.
She wasn’t fully awake, just tossing and whimpering in her shallow sleep.
“Shh . . . what’s wrong, Sweet Pea?” I urged, voice a whisper as I was reaching for her, brushing back the hair matted to her forehead.
A flash of terror jolted up my spine.
She was hot.
I pressed my palm against her forehead.
Her skin was sticky with sweat.
Shit. She was burning up.
She blinked, her eyes searching for me in the shadows. “I don’t feels good, Daddy.”
I scooped her into my arms, pressing a bunch of kisses to her temple like the action alone had the power to soothe away any discomfort she might feel. Fighting the panic that churned within me, I carried her into my room, flipped on the light switch, and headed straight for the attached bathroom, flipping that light on, too.
Frankie blinked against the brightness.
“Sorry, Sweet Pea,” I muttered, setting her on the counter but keeping one hand on her while I rifled through the medicine cabinet to find the thermometer. “What hurts?” I asked as I fumbled to get the plastic guard on the earpiece.
“Ev’ryfing.”
My hands were shaking, and it took me for fucking ever to get the damned thing snapped in place. I forced myself to slow, to be careful as I slipped it into her ear, my heart thundering in my chest as I waited the five seconds for it to beep.
104.3
Fuck.
That panic surged.
That is bad, right?
Truth was, Frankie’s health wasn’t a gamble I’d ever take.
I gave her a dose of Tylenol then grabbed a washcloth from the linen closet, ran it under cool water, and pressed it to her forehead. I held it there as I picked her back up and carried her out to my bed, laying her on it. “Hang on one sec, Frankie. Daddy’s going to make sure you get all better.”
She just gave me a trusting nod and curled up on her side, clinging a little tighter to the doll she was always dragging around. I slipped into a tee, jeans, and a pair of shoes, before I had her back in my arms, grabbing my keys and wallet from the entryway table, and rushing her out into the night.
The hour was deep, moon hanging midway on the horizon, peeking out from behind a streak of wispy clouds stretched in front of it. I wrenched open the back door of my truck and got her into her booster seat, buckled her quickly, and jogged around to the front. I slid the key into the ignition and turned it.
The engine cranked but didn’t turn over.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath. I pumped the accelerator and tried the ignition again.
A slow dread sank in with the realization.
Fuck.
The cabin lights hadn’t illuminated when I’d opened the doors. I glanced up. The overhead light switch was still set to on.
Fuck.
Frankie had asked for the light so she could look at a book when we were driving back from the lake on Saturday night, and I’d forgotten to switch it off. Leave it to my old-as-shit truck. Or just to me.
The battery was dead.
“Shit.” I drummed my thumbs on the wheel, calculating just how long it would take me to get the battery charger out of the shed to juice this thing up, when my attention snagged in the rearview mirror.
The sleeping house behind us was bathed in a shallow pool of moonlight, the windows darkened and encased in silence.
The woman probably hated me.
At least she should.
I still couldn’t believe the dick move I’d pulled two nights ago, the way I couldn’t stop from pressing myself against her, taking a little bit of what I couldn’t have.
I knew better.
But I couldn’t stop after I had heard what’d gone down in Frankie’s room. That quiet understanding that had poured from Rynna, like she might actually have the ability to get what me and Frankie had been through. Like maybe she’d been through some of the same bullshit, too.
Goal had been nothing more than thanking her. But I’d gone and gotten stupid. Had gotten too close. Had touched her because I couldn’t stop myself.
Not when I was engulfed with her presence. Cherries and sugar. So goddamned sweet.
None of that mattered right then. The only thing that mattered was Frankie, who was moaning in the backseat, her head bobbing all over the place. Worst was I couldn’t tell if she was nodding off to sleep or truly coming in and out of consciousness.
Any loyalty I had didn’t come close to touching that.
I hopped out of the truck, wrenched open Frankie’s door, and had her back in my arms in the next second. With one arm holding her against me, I grabbed her booster seat and then strode across the vacant street.
There was no hesitation when I bounded up the steps and pounded on Rynna’s door.
I stood there, shifting my feet anxiously while I waited, that unease growing tenfold when I saw a light flicker on through an upstairs window. Thirty seconds later, footsteps were shuffling across the floor. I could almost feel her confusion when I sensed her peering out the peephole at us.
But the second she did, there was no delay, and she was tearing open the door.
Concern was written all over that face.
That goddamned striking face that made something inside me light up at the sight of her.
“Oh my God, Frankie Leigh.” It was whispered panic pouring from her pretty mouth. “What happened?”
Those java eyes darted to my face.
Worry.
Fear.
I forced down every convoluted feeling I had about her. “She woke up with a fever. My battery’s dead in my truck. Need to borrow your car so I can take her to the ER.”
“I’ll drive you,” she said instead of agreeing. The girl was already sliding on a pair of flip-flops that had been sitting by the door.
“That’s not—”
She held up a hand, cutting me off the way I had continually done to her. “She’s sick, and you’re obviously upset.” Her tone softened. “I’ll drive you. It’s not a problem.”
The part of me that always needed to prove that I could raise my daughter alone wanted to rear its head and fight her. I bit it back. Focused on the feeling of my daughter in my arms.
Frankie’s well-being was my only concern.
“Thank you.”
I should absolutely not be accepting this woman’s generosity.
Every fucking one of the reasons why surged to the forefront of my mind. Screaming at me why this was wrong. To watch the line I was toeing.
Somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Rynna grabbed her purse and stepped out, still wearing what she’d obviously gone to bed in—a pair of thin cotton striped pants and a black tank.
I dropped my gaze. At least I managed to find the self-control not to watch the sweet sway of her luscious ass.
Guessed it was the little wins.
I followed her to her SUV, situated Frankie into her booster seat in the backseat, and climbed in beside my daughter.
I pretended I couldn’t feel the weight of Rynna’s worry when she kept glancing through the rearview mirror at us, pretended her concern wasn’t there, palpable in the air.
Pretended it didn’t mean more to me than it should.
I brushed back Frankie’s hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead, feeling the heat radiating off her, praying she was fine. I told myself every kid got sick. It was a part of life. But that didn’t mean my guts weren’t twisted. It didn’t mean the fear wasn’t there. It didn’t mean that every day of my life I wouldn’t be terrified of losing her, too.
11
Rynna
The big double doors Rex and Frankie had walked through three hours before swung open for what had to be the millionth time that night. I shot to my feet when this time it was finally Rex carrying out a sleeping Frankie in his arms.