He rounded the counter and pulled out the stool next to mine, sinking down onto it. “I didn’t have the best feeling about her foster parents. The way she talked about them just didn’t sit right. So, this afternoon, I made a surprise visit.” Crosby’s knuckles bleached white as he settled his hands on the countertop. “They had her in a closet. They made her stay there after school until bedtime so she was out of the way.”

The rage that lit in me blazed bright and fierce. I stood, nearly knocking my stool over before Crosby caught it. “Where is she? What is wrong with social services that they approved people who have the potential of doing something like that?”

I was moving before Crosby could answer, heading for my bedroom. Pulling open a drawer in my dresser, I grabbed a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I didn’t even think about the fact that the door was wide open, I simply shucked my spandex shorts, leaving me in nothing but my thong and workout tank.

“Whoa. Not that I don’t love the show, but what are you doing?”

I whirled to face Crosby, who leaned against the door, his gaze trained on where my ass had been a second before. “You’re going to take me to wherever Zoe is right now. I need to see her. I want to make sure she’s all right.”

Crosby crossed to me in three long strides, his hand slipping under my hair, tugging at it so that I was forced to meet his gaze. “That fierce exterior, it’s guarding the most tender heart, isn’t it?”

Air constricted in my lungs. “I care about her.”

“I know you do. Love that Zoe has that in you. But we can’t go see her right now.”

I stepped out of his hold. “Why the hell not?”

“Her social worker and I just got her settled before I came here. This place…I got nothing but good vibes. The parents are caring, attentive, but they don’t push. They’re doing everything they can to make Zoe feel safe. You showing up, ready to set fire to the world, is only going to freak Zoe out.”

I took a deep, steadying breath. Crosby had a point. But desperation clawed at my insides, a need to see Zoe, to make sure she was okay. “Do you think I could see her tomorrow?”

Crosby’s expression softened, and he pulled his phone from his pocket, typing out a text. Within a few seconds, there was a ding that said there had been a return reply. “The Wilsons would love for us to join them for breakfast tomorrow morning. We can see Zoe before she heads to school.”

My shoulders relaxed a fraction. “Okay.”