She wiped her eyes.
He placed his bottle of water on the sink. A wall of awkwardness built between them. “Why don’t you go get dry and warm, and I’ll make us some coffee or something. Then I’ll fix that window.”
Greer glanced behind her and a new wave of fear covered her face.
“Hey, don’t worry. I won’t let him hurt you, and I doubt he’ll be back.” Tonight. But he had a sneaky feeling this wasn’t over. This guy was set on taking out the one witness to a murder, and he didn’t seem to care that Greer worked for the sheriff’s department. That made him brazen. Bold. Locke wasn’t going anywhere.
“It’s not that,” she whispered. “I’ll be right back and—and we should talk, Locklin. A major conversation.”
Locke swallowed down a mountain of nerves. Well, he’d wanted answers. Guess he was about to get them. “I’ll make it strong then.”
“You definitely should.” Worry etched her brow. “And you don’t have to stay. You...won’t want to.” She muttered the last part and he wasn’t sure he heard right. Nothing could make him leave.
“Greer, a man tried to kill you multiple times tonight. Let’s just say what we both know. He has no intention of letting you walk away after having seen him.” He wasn’t trying to scare her, but she was acting delusional. “Your colleagues obviously didn’t solve the case after you left. I’m not leaving you alone. I want to stay.”
“I’m trained.”
“I don’t care.” He wasn’t budging.
“The department is going to do drive-bys every thirty minutes. Fingerprint the window. I’m not scared.”
Liar. She was terrified. He just wasn’t sure why some of that fear seemed to be directed toward him. “Go take care of yourself. The only way you’re getting rid of me is to call the police and say I’m trespassing, and after I saved you twice tonight, that feels like a crummy and ungrateful thing to do,” he jested, trying to lighten her up, to relieve some fear and tension. He would keep her safe. “I may not be a gun-toting cop or Navy SEAL, but I’m more than capable of holding my own and watching out for you.”
Greer inhaled deeply. “I know. Now, you make coffee and I’ll only be a second.”
“Okay,” he offered and slowly moved to the fridge, taking out a carton of eggs. “I’ll be right here making eggs and coffee.” And trying to figure out what on earth was going on.
She rushed from the kitchen.
Locke laid the carton of eggs on the counter, then peeped into the living room and down the hall. The door to a bedroom closed. Back in the living room, a baby swing and toys littered the floor. She’d said she had side jobs. Was she babysitting or running a day care? The wall above the couch caught his eye.
A collage of photos. Those weren’t there the last time he visited. There had been a huge painting of a meadow. He remembered because he’d loved it. It was only missing a tornado right down the middle.
He switched on the lamp by the couch and gaped.
Blood whooshed in his ears, leaving him dizzy. Photo after photo of a baby girl. Newborn pictures. One in a little tin washtub chewing on a rubber duck. But it wasn’t the clever poses that nearly brought him to his knees. It was the black-as-night hair. The blue eyes that stared back at him. The dimple in her right cheek. Locke touched his right cheek, felt the dimple there.
His sight landed on a newborn picture with footprints and handprints beside it and a birthdate.
No. Didn’t take a professor to do the math.
This child was nine months old.
Nine months of pregnancy.
Eighteen months ago, Greer had left him.
Why? Why would she do this? He lifted the most recent photo from the wall. Even without a DNA test, it was crystal clear that this child belonged to Locke.
He was a father.
He had a daughter.
His eyes burned and moisture blurred the photo in front of him. He blinked and focus came back. He trailed his index finger over the baby’s face. She was... She was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Mischief in her eyes already. She had Greer’s thick lips and straight little nose.
His lungs squeezed. Emotions swept through him like a roller coaster. Pride. Joy. Fear. Confusion. Despair. Loss.
Anger.
He camped on anger. How could Greer do this? Keep him from his child. From being a dad. Was she never going to tell him? What if he’d never shown up in her hometown? What if he’d come by tonight and she hadn’t been attacked? Would Greer have even let him inside?
“I was hoping to tell you before you saw all this,” she whispered.
He pivoted and held up the photo.
Greer slid her gaze from the photo to Locke’s face and her lip trembled, but she didn’t speak. Didn’t try to explain or toss a weak excuse his way.
“Where is she?” Fear flooded him. “Is she here?” Was she in the house when a killer broke in? His heart galloped, and he stormed down the hall, taking a hard left and flipping on the light in the room Greer had once used.
A perfect pink-and-pastel nursery came into view. He smelled the baby powder and sweet scent, and his knees buckled. But his daughter was nowhere to be found.
Greer stood at the door. “She’s with my friend Tori,” she whispered. “She babysits her some when I’m working and she doesn’t have a shift at the hospital. Sometimes another friend, Cindy, watches her.”
Locke didn’t know what to say first. He was flooded. Overwhelmed.
“How could you, Greer? How could you hide this from me? Do this to me?” With every question, his voice rose and his pulse rocketed.
“Locke, you said you didn’t want children.”
He collapsed into the rocking chair, dropping his head into his hands. He had said that and he’d meant it at the time, but he didn’t have a flesh-and-blood child to see or touch or talk to. Now he did and that changed things.
He was furious for the betrayal. Terrified of what this now meant. How was he supposed to be a dad—not just a dad but a good one? Yeah, he’d told Greer that he didn’t want kids. Yeah, his excuse was his on-the-go lifestyle not being conducive to children. But that wasn’t the deep-down-inside reason. That reason was too embarrassing to reveal. Especially to the woman he’d wanted to pledge his life to. It was too raw, making him too vulnerable. It would have shown her who he really was and she would have left him. She’d left him, anyway, in the end, but not for the truth. Not for the real reason he didn’t want to be a father.
The truth was, Locke couldn’t handle disappointing and failing one more person. Most definitely not his own flesh and blood. He’d been a screw-up his whole life. It was easier to let Greer believe the superficial excuse.
“You said you didn’t want them, either, but here you are. A mama. You didn’t put her up for adoption. You changed gears and didn’t allow me to change them. That’s not fair.”
Greer sighed. “No, it’s not. And that has crossed my mind several times in the past few months. I even picked up the phone to call you...but I didn’t. And I can’t change it now. I don’t know where we go from here.”
Locke wasn’t sure, either. His biggest fear had come true in two seconds flat. Underneath that fear, though, was a powerful need to see his baby. It pulled at him like gravity.