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I had a reason to celebrate. I was finallymated.

“THERE’S SOMETHING WEneed to talk about.”

“Oh?” Her voice still sounded sleepy, although we’d taken a nap. “What is it?”

“When I asked Eagle Eye to look for you, he found your foster and adoption files.”

She lifted her head, resting her chin on her hands to make eye contact. “Well, I suppose those aren’t hard to find.”

“No, not really,” I agreed, “but when they’re sealed and have high-level security attached to them, possibly national security level concerns, it raises red flags.”

“Red flags? What do you mean?”

“Your parent’s death is a cold case. An unsolved murder.”

She gasped, scrambling to sit up. “Rain! How could you keep that from me?”

“I just found out this afternoon. Eagle Eye finally hacked into the files.”

Her eyes widened. “Isn’t that illegal?”

“Well, yeah, baby.” I pulled her closer, kissing the tip of her nose. “You do know I’m a biker outlaw, right?”

“Like that show on cable?”

I sighed. Everyone thought pussy and breaking the law, and Harleys were all that bikers were interested in. Oh, and partying.

They were significant, but notallwe liked.

“No, not quite like that.”

She giggled. “You just got offended.”

I did. A little. “We’re getting off topic.”

“I know. This is scary, Rain. What does all this mean?”

Part of me wanted to keep her sheltered and in the dark, unaware of the threat that existed. I didn’t want her to look over her shoulder every minute of the day or be afraid to leave the house.

“I’m concerned that whoever killed your parents is still out there, and you’re in danger.”

Her expression said everything: shocked, fearful, and angry. “But why?”

“I don’t know, but I’m working on it.”

“Don’t sugarcoat it. It won’t help me.”

“I hope it’s nothing.” I kissed her, needing her to understand that I wasn’t leaving her side until we figured this out. “I’m sticking around until Eagle Eye can find out everything we need to know.”

“I’m a librarian. No threat to anyone. I’m as boring as it gets,” she joked. “I think you’re wrong. No one is out to get me. I don’t have any connections, Rain. No family.”

“You have me,” I reminded her.

“You know what I’m saying. No money. No connections. Nothing of consequence.”

“I’ve seen those dolls you crochet.”

She loved needlework and all types of crafting. Art. Scrapbooking. Journaling. My sweet angel was a creative person.