“The sonogram images. I kept one. I hope you don’t mind.” She eyes me, and for a moment, I wonder if she’ll want me to give it to her. But then the puppy barks downstairs, and we both turn to the door. Mercedes is the first to leave the room. I take one more look around, feeling lonelier than I have ever felt, and follow her back downstairs and out to the patio. She opens the little gate and lets Pestilence and the puppy down on the grassy area where the puppy relieves herself.

“Your brother increased the guards.” He doesn’t know I have eyes on Douglas. I should communicate it with him.

“It’s fine, Judge. Santi is handling it.”

“Why? What happened?”

“It’s handled.” She turns to walk away, but I grab her arm to stop her. She looks down at where I’m holding her, but I don’t let go.

“What happened? Because something did.”

“Nothing.”

“Something. What was it?”

“I received a package the other day. Delivered to my front door.”

My blood turns to ice. “What package?”

Her expression falters, and I glimpse the thing she’s trying to hide. Fear. “Mercedes? What package?”

She doesn’t quite look at me when she answers. “A chopped-up baby doll and a blank invitation to a funeral.”

“What? Why didn’t I know about this?”

“Judge—”

“Jesus Christ. I was here. I asked him.”

“Judge, you’re hurting me.”

I look down at where I still hold her and see how I’m squeezing. “Shit. I’m sorry.” I loosen my grip but don’t let go. “Come home with me. Please. I can protect you.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “This is my home, Judge.” Are her words forced, or am I imagining it?

“No, it’s not. Let me protect you.”

“My brother—”

“Please, Mercedes. Let me take you home.”

“You need to go. I want you to go.”

I stare at her, not wanting to hear her. She pries my fingers from her arm and turns her back to me to call for the dogs.

“I will keep Pestilence. But you need to respect my decision and go. Now.”

“Don’t shut me out.”

She drops her head. “Please, Judge.”

“At least—”

She spins and slaps her hands against my chest. “Just go. Fucking go! Just this once, put yourself second and do what I ask for a fucking change!”

Tears wet the skin around her eyes, and I see the effort this is costing her. See how my being here is hurting her. I watch her for a long minute, letting the look in her eyes burn itself into my brain, the pain inside them like a brand on my skin.

I nod. Because I can’t speak. And when the puppy comes strolling up the stairs, I scoop her up and walk through the house and out the front door.

17

Judge