Page 59 of Unstable

From the corner of his eye, he watched her, her attention glued to the TV. He couldn’t believe how much things had changed in just the past forty-eight hours. The reserve and distance between them had melted away, and they’d spent every minute of the day together, talking about everything and nothing.

He had cared for her before, but he felt even more possessive of her after learning how she’d overcome the adversity of her upbringing. His family was his support system. He couldn’t imagine coming from a single-parent home, let alone one where the parent was drugged out of her mind half the time.

Irina was so much stronger than he’d given her credit for, and he loved that she never let it slow her down or hold her back. She had set a course for herself in life, shed the skin of her past, and moved on. She would never play the victim.

Though he knew she was insecure about her background, she put on a brave face and persevered. She had made a name for herself in country music, completely reinventing herself into a strong, smart, independent woman. She didn’t need him to protect her from the jerks of the world, but he wanted to shelter her anyway. It was ingrained in him to take care of the ones he loved… and she was slowly worming her way into that category.

Irina caught him watching her and wiggled one fuzzy-socked foot near his groin. He grabbed it and growled a warning at her. “Trouble…”

“What?” she pouted prettily at him, affecting her most innocent expression. “You were looking awfully lonely over there.”

She bit her lip as he pressed his thumb against the arch of her foot and smirked down at her. “Is that right?”

“I just thought⁠—”

Her words were interrupted by the vibrating of his phone on the table, and they both turned to look at it. For a moment, they only stared. A call at this time of night would either be good news or bad—there was no in between.

Irina tried to pull her foot away as he leaned forward to pick it up, but he held fast, not wanting to break the connection between them. Knox’s name lit the screen, and he tapped the button to answer. “What’s up?”

“How’s everything down there?”

“So far, so good.” Holding the phone between his shoulder and ear, he stretched out an arm and swiped the remote off the table. Irina tried to tug her foot away one more time, and she let out a soft protest as he yanked her closer to him. “How are things going on your end?”

“They brought Adam Sorenson in for questioning yesterday. The kid admitted to sending her notes, but denies anything threatening. They’re running analysis of the handwriting now, so we’ll know more soon. He did lawyer up, and he managed to make bond. First offense, and all.”

Anger burned through him. It didn’t surprise him, but he didn’t like it. “Someone keeping an eye on him?”

“Yeah, I’ve got Callahan doing random checks to make sure he doesn’t try anything stupid. Apparently, they found more paraphernalia in his home that appeared to be stolen.”

Jerk. “Tell me they’re charging him.”

“Larceny, at least. Maybe harassment. They’ve got her car in impound, but so far they haven’t been able to find any evidence of him tampering with her brakes. They printed the bleeder valve but came up empty.”

“Have any of those jerks ever heard of gloves?” he snapped.

“Yeah, yeah,” Knox replied. “I know where you’re going. But you can’t make evidence just appear out of thin air. They need something concrete tying him to her accident in order to slap him with attempted murder. Otherwise…”

Knox trailed off, and Roman snorted. “So, what happens next?”

“If they don’t find any evidence?” He sighed. “He does a few months and is back out.”

Roman growled. “That’s ridiculous!” He could feel Irina’s gaze on him, but he ignored it.

“Preaching to the choir,” Knox replied. “I don’t make the rules. But at least Phelps said it seemed to scare the kid straight. Aside from pulling the lawyer in, he gave them the info they were looking for.”

That wasn’t much of a consolation. The kid could be lying through his teeth. “So, six months and he’ll be back to doing the same thing?”

He heard a harried sigh on the other end of the line. “One thing at a time. His arraignment is set for the beginning of next week.”

“Great,” Roman grumbled.

“Anyway, that’s why I was calling. Since the PD is pretty certain they’ve nailed their guy, you’ll be able to come home the day after tomorrow. The studio wants her back here, but they plan to keep you on at her place for a while until everything settles.”

It made sense, but he dreaded their time there coming to an end. “I’ll let her know.”

“I’ll email you the details.”

Not waiting for anything else, he ended the call and tossed the phone onto the cushion next to him, then tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling.