Then he was over me, his hands spreading me so his cock could slip inside me. He thrust rhythmically, and I could sense his climax coming.

Each thrust moved me against the sheet, sending soft strokes over my clit, teasing and firing my body so that I bumped close against the chasm, but never quite reached that edge.

Tyler leaned forward then, grabbing my shoulders as he levered himself deeper and then, with a low moan of male satisfaction, exploded inside me before lowering himself to the bed, his arm and leg draped over me.

“I couldn’t resist your temptation,” he said, when I turned my head to smile at him. “Turn over and let me touch you. I’ll take you the rest of the way.”

I shook my head. “No, I like it. Still sleepy and aroused. I’m going to go back to sleep and dream of you.”

His brow lifted and he bent down to kiss me. “In that case,” he said, “have very sweet dreams.”

I drifted off to the sound of the shower. And lost myself in those sweet dreams until fingers of sunlight sneaked into the room to tickle my nose. I sat up slowly, feeling gloriously used, then laughed when I saw the Hershey’s Kiss that Tyler had left on the pillow beside me.

I knew that he had a full plate today, and so we had planned to meet at Destiny after my shift. Now, I stretched in bed, feeling warm and happy and feminine.

Last night had been both good and bad, but in the end, I couldn’t deny that I felt closer now to Tyler than I’d ever felt to anyone. And when we’d gone to sleep, my exhaustion so overwhelming that he’d carried me to bed, then spooned against me, his strong arms holding me close and keeping me safe.

It had felt romantic and sensual.

It had felt like love.

I stretched across the bed to grab my phone, pleased to see I didn’t have to rush. I slid out of bed, then decided to forego the fluffy Drake robe for one of Tyler’s button-down shirts. Foolish perhaps, but I liked being wrapped in his scent.

I found frozen waffles in the freezer and popped one in, then sat down at the kitchen table with the paper Tyler had left there. But I couldn’t concentrate on the news. Last night was too fresh in my mind, and my thoughts were a jumble.

Squeaky clean.

That’s what he said, and I desperately wished it was true. Hoped it was true. I could imagine a life with Tyler, though I told myself not to think like that.

Thinking like that only led to disappointment.

Still, there was no denying that we fit together in so many ways. And now—now that he knew about my stepfather, I had no more secrets from him.

It felt good. It felt honest.

The waffle popped and I pulled it out of the toaster with two fingers, then searched the fridge for syrup. When I didn’t find any, I settled on peanut butter. I slathered it on thick, then took a bite, remembering the look in his eyes when I’d blurted out my secret.

He’d known. I still didn’t understand how, but I guess what he said was true—he really did see me.

I took another bite, only this time it felt too thick to swallow. I spit it out into a napkin, then went to the sink. I turned on the faucet and just stood there, looking at the water draining away.

He’d known.

True, we had a connection—there was no denying that.

But still, he’d known. And in such a short time.

If he’d known after only a few days and even fewer facts, then how the hell could my father have missed the truth?

Unless he hadn’t missed the truth.

I stumbled back to the table and fell into the chair, the thought enough to make me go limp.

Did he know?

I licked my lips and, before I could talk myself out of it, picked up my phone.

He answered on the first ring. “Hey there, daughter o’ mine. How’s the hip?”

“It has a hole in it,” I said. “Otherwise it’s fine.”

“Funny girl. What’s up?”

“I—Daddy, I wanted to ask you something.”

“All right,” he said, his voice softer now. “Go ahead.”

“It’s … about when I was a kid. Living with Mom. Did you know—” I sucked in a breath. “Daddy, Grier abused her.”

He was silent a long moment. When he spoke, his voice sounded far away and very sad. “I realized that later.”

“I should have told you. Maybe it would have helped.”

“No—no, sweetheart. You were a kid. You were living in hell and doing your best. You did just fine.”

“He was a monster,” I said. “I wanted him dead every single day.”

“I bet you did.”

“And then—and then someone killed him.”

“Yes, they did,” he said, and I knew—because I knew his voice, just like he knew me. My father had held my secret, too.

“Sloane?”

“Yes, Daddy?”

“It’s like I always say—justice wins out.”

“Did it, Daddy?”

“You bet it did, sweetheart.”

When I hung up, I realized I was crying, but I was smiling, too. And for the first time in a long time, I let the weight of my secret drop away.

I wanted Tyler, but he was off at meetings, and so I did the next best thing. I got dressed, got in my car, and headed to Destiny.

I would be early, but I didn’t care. I could mingle with the customers, maybe see if there were any more who knew Amy.

I frowned, realizing I hadn’t asked my dad about the run on her license. Then again, it hadn’t been that long, and I knew he’d call if and when he got something.

I did, however, want to give Candy an update to let her know I had even more confirmation that Amy had skipped to Vegas. I put the phone on speaker and dialed her number as I maneuvered onto the highway to head toward Destiny.

“I was going to call you today,” she said, right off the bat. “Guess who called me last night?”

“Amy,” I said.

“Yes! She sounded terrible, but she said she’s doing great—she did meet a guy, so we were right about that. She’d lost her phone. I almost just deleted the voicemail—I figured it was a wrong number—and she said not to worry about her.”

“How did she sound bad?”

“Just tired,” Candy said. “I tried to call back on the number, but it said it wasn’t working. Not sure what’s up with that. I wanted to tell her to chill. And to lay off the guy if he was wiping her out so much. Anyway, it’s good news, huh?”

“The best.”

“She said she’d be here for the baby. Well, she said next month, but I’m sure she meant next week. If not, I’ll chew her ass out for being late.”

“I bet you will.”

I hung up, smiling at the relief in Candy’s voice. I thought of Sapphire, and her frustration at not knowing what had happened to Emily, and her impression that the police weren’t doing enough.

I could hardly help on the investigation, but maybe I could help gather some facts. I scrolled through my contacts and put a call in to Detective Louis Carson, one of the Chicago homicide detectives I’d called to ask about Tyler and the guys when I’d first rolled into town.

“Hey Watson,” he said. “You still in our fair city?”

“I am,” I said. “And I have a favor.” I told him about Emily and about wanting to help Sapphire and asked him if there was anything more I could pass on to her.

“I know a bit about that case,” he said. “I can give you some info, but you need to keep it to yourself. Chief wanted a tight wrap on this case, and he hasn’t yet authorized release of the details. Should be soon, though, and you can tell your girl.”

“I’ll keep quiet until you say,” I promised, then listened as he told me about how she’d been found in an abandoned warehouse—that was public knowledge—and that she’d been the victim of torture.

“Not sexual, as far as we can tell. But starved and beaten. Some sick fuck did a number on her.”

“Shit.”

“I know. We’re hoping we don’t have a serial killer on our hands.”

“Anything useful from forensics?”

“Adhesive residue and POE oil,” he said, spelling out the last for me. “That’s the angle we’re working now, but both are pretty damn common.”