Page 29 of Judge’s Redemption

“I wasn't waiting to be saved.”

“I know.”

Her thumb moves once over my pulse. “Is Mercer coming back?”

“Not if he wants to live.” She searches my face and I don't lie to her.

“The men who took him?”

“Criminals he stole from. What happens next is between them.”

“You handed him over to be killed.”

“Probably.” The word sits between us.

Shay looks across the wrecked salon. “I should be horrified.”

“Are you?”

“I'm horrified that he watched my daughter.” The tension in Shay's shoulders begins to ease. “So this is really over?”

“It's over.” I tell her. She sits with that for a moment, then looks down at our joined hands.

“What do we tell Evie?” The question tightens everything in my chest.

“Whatever you think she can understand.” I turn my hand beneath hers and lace our fingers. “I want her to know I'm her father. I want it so badly I can taste it, but I won't walk in and drop that on her because I'm tired of waiting.”

Shay studies me, testing the words for the old trick hidden inside them.

“Tomorrow. We tell her together, simply. Then we let her ask whatever she needs to ask.”

The future shifts again, not into something guaranteed, but something I'm finally allowed to approach. “Tomorrow,” I agree.

I stand. “Evie's safe with Dottie. Two brothers are outside the house. There's something I want to show you before we collect her.”

Outside, I swing onto my bike and pass Shay the spare helmet. She takes it and climbs on behind me.

Her arms slide around my waist, and the first press of her body against my back hits like five years disappearing. I cover one of her hands with mine, then start the engine. The ride to River Road is short. Shay stays close as I turn into the gravel drive and bring the bike to a stop beneath two old sycamores.

The house sits back from the river. White siding, deep porch, dark roof. The yard needs work, but the fence is sound and the front steps don't shift under my weight.

I kill the engine. Shay climbs off behind me and removes the helmet. Her gaze settles on the house. “What is this?”

“A house.”

“I can see that.” She says with a roll of her eyes and smile.

“I put money on it the week after I found out about Evie.”

Her head turns sharply. “Judge.”

“I didn't buy it because I assumed you'd come.”

“That's exactly what it sounds like.”

“I bought it because I wanted somewhere she could have a room if you ever trusted me enough to let her stay.” I cross to the front door before everything I need to say gets trapped in my throat. Shay comes with me. The front door is unlocked. Inside, the living room is mostly empty. I then lead her down the hall. Evie's room is the only one finished.

Pale yellow walls. A low white bed. Shelves waiting for books and a hook on the door for the glittery backpack she carries everywhere. Bun-Bun's identical cousin sits on the pillow because I spent forty minutes in a toy store learning that stuffed rabbits apparently come in families.