When Day Breaks (KGI #9)(73)

“Baby, what are you thanking me for?” he asked hoarsely.

“For trusting me with the truth,” she said in a low voice. “For wanting me to know from the start. For telling me now what my father should have told me a long time ago. I don’t want you to apologize to me, Swanny. Not for telling me the truth. It means a lot to me that you would risk so much for me. Your life. Your job. I’m humbled by the lengths you’ve gone to, to protect me physically and emotionally.”

She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his so sweetly it made his gut ache. There was a wealth of emotion in the light brush, like a butterfly’s wing against his mouth. Soft and delicate, just like her.

She pulled away, breathless, her cheeks pink and no longer pale with shock. And then her eyes became troubled again, shadows dimming them.

“I know I should call my father, not to confront him, but to assure him I’m all right, but I just can’t face him right now. I need a little time to digest this—what he kept from me,” she said in a faltering tone. “Does that make me a terrible, selfish person?”

His reaction was instantaneous, nearly explosive. “Hell no it doesn’t. You deserve as much time as you need to process your shock. God only knows how hard this must have been for you. I certainly can’t claim to even understand what it’s done to you because I’ve never been in your situation. You’ll get no judgment from me. You’ll never get anything from me but complete support and understanding.”

Emotion swamped her expression, her eyes warming, the shadows from just moments prior dissipating.

“I—”

Whatever she was about to say was cut off when a sharp knock sounded at the door. Swanny cursed, even though he knew their time together would be very short lived because not only would the police be involved, but his team would also be gathering to put together the pieces and plan their next move.

“Stay put, honey,” Swanny said, brushing his mouth across her forehead. “Just sit here and try to relax. I’m afraid the next hours are going to be long and stressful for you.”

“But you’ll be here, right?” she asked, her brow furrowed anxiously.

“I’m not leaving you,” he vowed. “We’re in this together. You’re mine to protect, Eden. You go nowhere without me.”

Relief shone brightly in her eyes as she sagged against the back of the couch. Another impatient knock sounded and Swanny turned, checking the peephole to see two policemen and Swanny’s entire team.

He opened the door and gestured for them to come in. But he stepped in front of the policemen and then turned to Edge. “Translate this for me. Tell them they are not to overtax Eden. They aren’t to press her too hard. She’s upset and in shock and I won’t have them upsetting her further.”

“I’m perfectly able to understand English,” one of the policeman said in a dry voice. “I understand your concerns and we will most certainly be mindful of Miss Sinclair when we question her.”

Swanny nodded and then extended his hand. “Daryl Swanson, but everyone calls me Swanny.” He shook both the inspectors’ hands as they introduced themselves to him in return as being part of the Police Nationale’s anti-terrorism unit for this jurisdiction.

They quickly explained that they were investigating this as an act of terrorism, and if there was no evidence to support terrorism, the case would be turned over to the criminal investigation section of the Police Nationale.

Damn it, but Swanny needed time to discuss with his team exactly how they were going to approach this. Pretend ignorance and play up the angle that Eden was the victim of yet another random brush with death? It was hardly plausible, but the last thing he wanted was for his team to get kicked off the case, so to speak, and have people who weren’t as diligent as he and his team protecting Eden.

Over his dead body was that happening. His line was drawn in the sand and he wasn’t budging.

He exchanged quick glances with Nathan and Joe, and Joe held up a finger to his lips behind the investigators’ backs, signaling that for now, they were playing it cool and not showing their hand.

As a courtesy or perhaps because Swanny’s expression had immediately become fierce when he’d issued his dictate as to how Eden was to be handled, the investigators let Swanny take the lead as they walked farther into the suite, where Eden was huddled on the sofa.

She’d dragged one of the throws from the arm of the couch and pulled it around her, almost as though when he left her he took her warmth away. The color that had briefly returned when she kissed him had washed away, leaving her pale and haunted-looking again. She surveyed the approaching investigators with clear apprehension.

Swanny leaned over, lifting the blanket as if securing it more firmly around her and whispered close to her ear, “Just play it cool, honey. Follow our lead. We don’t want to tip our hand and involve them.”

She gave an imperceptible nod, as if moving so Swanny could arrange the blanket just so, and then Swanny took a seat next to her on the couch, sitting close enough that their bodies touched. He gestured for the two detectives to take seats in the two armchairs across from the couch separated by a coffee table.

Skylar took a seat on the other side of Eden, and Nathan, Joe and Edge stood, forming a perimeter around the seated members. Edge leaned against the arm of the sofa where Skylar sat, and Nathan and Joe stood on either side of the investigators, their arms crossed, expressions indecipherable.