Page 72 of Ruthless Possession
Matthew moves to my side without me asking. We've been doing this long enough that the choreography is automatic.
"Here's what happens next," I say. "You're going to sit here. You're not going to move. You're not going to speak. Caiden is going to stay with you, and if any of you gives him a reason to be unhappy about that, I won't be here to moderate the conversation."
Caiden hasn't said a word since we came inside. He's leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, and his expression hasn't changed once. That's the expression that makes people behave.
I look at Matthew. "Safe room."
He nods.
The hallway is quiet. The night-light under Charlie's door is still glowing. I stop at the safe room panel and press the intercom.
"Morgan."
Her voice replies back immediately. Tight. Controlled. "Trenton."
"We're clear. All three contained. Harris wasn't here."
Silence on her end. I wait.
"Where is he?"
"We're working on that. We have a lead. Matthew's feeding it to Greyson now."
Another pause. I can hear her breathing through the speaker, slow and deliberate, the way she breathes when she's managing herself.
"Charlie's asking for you," she says. Her voice shifts on the last word, not quite a crack, but close. The kind of close that means she's been holding it together for a little girl in a dark room while the world tried to come through her door, and now that the world has been stopped, holding it together is starting to cost her.
"I'm coming in," I say.
I press the latch, and the panel opens.
Morgan is sitting on the cot with Charlie curled against her side, one arm around the girl's shoulders, the other hand pressed flat against Charlie's back like she's been holding her heart in place through her palm. Charlie's unicorn is crushed between them. Charlie's face is dry but her eyes are enormous, the whites showing all the way around the blue.
She looks at me, then looks at Matthew behind me.
"Mr. Trent," she says. Very small. Very careful.
"Yeah, kiddo." I cross the room and drop to a crouch in front of her. My knees protest. I ignore them. "I'm here."
"Did you get them?"
"We got them."
She nods. The nod is too controlled for a four-year-old. It's the nod of someone who has learned that showing fear is dangerous and is now in a room full of people who have told her it's safe to be afraid and doesn't quite believe it yet.
"Was it my daddy?"
The question hangs in the small safe room like a weight. I watch Morgan's face as she processes it, sees the fear still raw in Charlie's eyes.
"It wasn't him, sweetheart," I say before Morgan can answer. "Just some men he paid to cause trouble."
Morgan meets my eyes over Charlie's head. We both know the truth, that this was a test. Harris sent these men to see how we'd react, to find our weaknesses before he makes his real move.
"Can I stay in here a little longer?" Charlie whispers, her small fingers still clutching Princess Sparklehoof.
"Of course," Morgan says, brushing hair from Charlie's forehead. "We'll stay as long as you need."
I check my phone. A text from Greyson: 10 minutes out with Mason and Zach. Stay put.
