Lucca (Made Men #4)(81)

I sure as hell had never met her before, but from what people had told me, Mallory was supposed to be a quiet girl, submissive. She must have changed in the last three and a half years.

At her snap, Adair began crying, and she softly cooed back.

“Mallory Ward, open this door now.”

“Like hell I’ll open for a Black Angel,” she hissed.

“Even if your son’s father was one?”

That brought absolute silence.

“Mall—”

“Please …” she begged, her voice so soft I barely heard it. “Go away.”

I didn’t consider her plea for a single second. I hadn’t come all this way to be turned away from the one thing I spent the last two years searching for. “Not until I see my nephew.”

For a long time, I heard nothing.

As I was about to start yelling again, the door was slowly opened, and in the doorway stood a wide-eyed Mallory. Her small body only reached to my mid-chest. Her head was tilted back, the big brown discs of her eyes meeting mine. Inside them was a mix of pain, despair, and even a hint of relief.

“Nephew?” she croaked, her eyes searching mine, which were the same soft green she must have seen up close almost four years ago.

“Noble was my brother,” I answered with the softest resignation, the words still tight in my throat.

“Oh,” Mallory whispered, her eyes flickering across my face: the sharper jaw, the dark brown hair—all the things that set me apart from my brother. Then her gaze dropped to the worn wooden floor, her long red curls hiding her face. She brushed them back with slender hands. Her nails were cut short and plain, hard work evident in the slight calluses on her palms.

She seemed to be taking everything in, but she wouldn’t step out of the way of the doorway, keeping the young boy protected from me. She kept one of his hands in hers as he hid behind her. His other hand was tucked into a tear over her knee.

“You Mallory?” I asked, my voice rough and graveled.

She snapped her head back up and that vulnerable expression was replaced with a harsh scowl. “You were shouting it at the top of your lungs two seconds ago, and now you’re asking?”

She was feisty; completely different from what I had heard. The few tenants of the previous places she had stayed had said she was quiet, kept to herself. They had also said other things, but none of that would waver his decision.

“I’ve been looking for you for the past two years. I wanted to be sure.” I kept my emotions tied down as I looked at the woman who’d had me running in circles. She had moved from place to place, not staying anywhere long. Every time I had gotten close to her, she had moved on again. Today, I had caught my well-earned break. The call from one of my contacts that had said she had been spotted three states over had me on my bike in seconds.

Mallory slowly nodded, glancing back and forth past both of my sides, probably planning an escape. She then looked back at the window in the room, which was open, and I saw a hint of her plan race across her face.

Like hell.

“I’ll catch you before you even get close,” I growled, the threat closer to a promise than a warning. “I’m not letting you get away from me again.”

She scowled in reaction, but it changed in an instant.

“Mommy?” Adair said, tugging on her knitted blouse.

She looked down at her son, who had small tears in his eyes, and stiffened, pushing him further behind her as her face contorted to mimic relief yet was still too strained. “It’ll be okay, Adair. Don’t worry.” She tried to hide the tremor in her voice, but it didn’t work.

“I won’t hurt you,” I told them.

“You broke down my door!” Mallory whirled back on me with a bite in her words that was nearing hysterical.

I looked back down the hallway as if I could see around the corner. “Yeah.”

Her gaze was flat as she levelled it on me, one brow raised with that are-you-nuts look.

“No, I’m not,” I answered, though she didn’t verbally ask.

“I didn’t—” She bit down on her lip to stop herself and settled for hissing, “Don’t read my mind.”

“No,” I refused, just to piss her off. I couldn’t find it in me to tell her that it was written all over her face.

“Are you psychic?”

“No.”

“Then don’t read my mind.”

My eyebrows pulled together. “I have to be psychic to be able to read you mind.”

“No, you don’t.”

“What—”

She stopped me with the shake of her head, raising a palm as she sighed in exasperation.

Meanwhile, I was more than sure this woman was bat-shit crazy. In fact, I was certain of it. What my brother ever saw in her would remain a mystery. Nonetheless, it wasn’t the reason I was here.

“You’re coming home,” I told her.

The second the words left my lips, I saw a rush of fear encompass her. She stiffened, her eyes growing wide as she looked down into her hand without seeing it.

It felt like a whole hour had passed before she turned to look at me, despair written in those brown eyes.

“I can’t,” she whispered at last.

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Is there a difference?” she huffed, eyes looking straight into mine. “I’m not going back to that town either way.”