Page 55 of Cuffed (Everyday Heroes 1)
I eye her as if I’m doubting her, but then when I smile, she knows I trust her. “Good. I think we should come up with a certain picture or word, and if you paint that on a rock, then I know you’re afraid and need help for you or your mom.”
Skepticism is back, but it isn’t as deep when she asks, “What word or picture?” Her voice is barely audible.
“You can pick it.”
“Hmm.” She twists her lips and thinks so hard it’s adorable. “Watermelon.”
“Watermelon?” I laugh, not expecting that answer in a million years.
“Yeah, watermelon. I’m not that good at painting, though. I know you’re just saying it because I’m a kid and you’re an adult so you have to say it so you don’t hurt my feelings . . . but I promise I can really paint a good watermelon.”
“I believe you.” I love the little glimpses of her personality that are starting to shine through her fear. “Will it be green and—”
“No. It will be red with black seeds; although, mommy only buys the kind without seeds and those are no fun because there are no seeds to see how far you can spit.”
“Got it. A red rock with black seeds.” I glance at the painted rocks already there and know I’d be able to spot it in a second. “Good choice. Now, we need to decide on a place to put our secret signal. Where do you think?”
She bites her bottom lip and looks around. “How about right there at the corner of the sidewalk?”
“I think that’s an excellent choice. See? You’re already proving what a great secret spy you’re going to be.”
“How often are you going to check for the code?”
“As often as I need to,” I say, not wanting to overcommit but needing her to understand she’s safe.
“What are you two talking about?” Amelia asks as she comes up behind Keely and puts her arm around her daughter’s shoulders.
“Secret spies and watermelon,” Keely says.
“Is that a show on Nickelodeon?” Amelia asks.
“Yep.” Keely looks back at me one last time with a soft smile before her mom ushers her to the house and shuts the door without another word.
“Did you get anywhere?” I ask Nate as we climb in the cruiser.
“You mean did she admit that the bastard hits her so she wears long sleeves in summer to hide the bruises? No. No matter how many times I told her that we’d protect her, that all she has to do is press charges to protect Keely, she kept denying anything was wrong.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“’Bout sums it up.”
I pound my fist on the steering wheel. “I’m sure we’ll be back again.”
“We can’t help her unless she wants the help.”
“And in the meantime, the girl is in the crosshairs. That seems fair,” I say, frustrated disgust edging my tone.
“Yep.” He blows out a sigh. “At least we have donuts.”
“No, you have donuts,” I say, hating their smell currently filling my car.
“Call Emerson and tell her you’re running late and then turn your car around and go home.”
Desi sputters on the other end of the phone. “You’re cute and all, but that doesn’t excuse you for being a bossy asshole.”
I glance over to where Emerson is sitting at the bar about fifty feet away. Her strawberry blonde hair is tucked behind her ear, her fingers twirl the straw stuck in her drink, and those long, tan legs call to every man in here. The thought alone has me itching for a fight or any excuse to get my anger over the Keely situation out of my damn system.
“I’ll owe you one,” I say between gritted teeth as another man sits beside her and offers small talk she doesn’t encourage. But still, she smiles. Still, she’s goddamn gorgeous.
