GAVIN squealed to a halt outside his home and left his steel-reinforced, bulletproof Mercedes before his driver had come to a full stop. His gun was in his hand, fear pounding a vicious cadence in his head. Ginger had been hysterical. Had told him to come home immediately, that something was wrong.
It took all his strength not to ram through the door and burst inside, laying waste to whatever threat there was to his wife and child. Instead he reached over from the side of the door and flipped the handle, allowing the door to ease open and give him an unimpeded view into the living room.
Ginger was pacing the living room, distress radiating from her like a beacon. As if sensing his presence, her gaze flew to the door and she called out, “Gav? Is that you? Are you home?”
Gavin relaxed, the terror slowly subsiding. He managed to put a shaky hand out to ward off his personal security men who’d converged the moment Gavin had called them. Even his driver was behind Gavin, gun up and drawn.
Not in a hurry, Gavin tucked his gun into his shoulder harness and slowly pushed himself to his feet, hoping he didn’t humiliate himself by face-planting on his own doorstep.
Never had he been as afraid as he’d been for the last fifteen minutes when his wife’s terrified voice had pleaded with him to come home.
Gavin didn’t often leave his wife and child. Once a week, however, he left them both, a veritable army guarding their estate, and he went into downtown Houston to take care of business or items that required his attention. After today he was wondering if he’d ever be able to leave Ginger and Ari again.
The door flew further open and Ginger stood there, eyes huge with fright, her face pale and her entire body trembling. While she might be all right, Ari’s safety was still in question, and if his daughter was okay, then what the hell had frightened his wife so badly?
“Gavin, you have to come!”
Then she took in the men in position and Gavin could see her grapple with what he’d been through. But her face didn’t soften in apology or regret. Her cold hand slid over his and pulled him inside, quickly shutting the door behind him, cutting him off from his security.
“Something or someone has been in Ari’s room,” Ginger said, her breath hitching as she hurried up the stairs, dragging Gavin with her.
He went rigid and once more drew his weapon.
“There’s no one there now,” Ginger said in a whisper. “She’s napping. Put the gun away!”
Reluctantly, he re-holstered his weapon and as soon as they were inside Ari’s room and he could see her adorable little diapered behind pooched up with her knees tucked underneath her, thumb inside her mouth, he was finally able to breathe again.
“What the hell is going on, Ginger?” Gavin demanded, a bite to his voice.
She flinched and looked startled by his anger.
“You took fifteen years off my life. Never do that again.”
“But someone has been in her room,” Ginger hissed. “I am not crazy, Gav. The first couple of times I thought it was my forgetfulness. That I just hadn’t remembered leaving the two stuffed animals in her crib. But then I started paying meticulous attention to where I put them when I put her down for a nap or for the night.”
Gavin frowned because it wasn’t at all like Ginger to be careless when it came to leaving a choking hazard in their daughter’s crib. He didn’t buy that she’d forgotten anything for a minute.
Ginger crept over to the crib and then thrust her fist in her mouth to silence her cry. She held up a shaking hand to point. “Gavin, I took them out fifteen minutes ago. When I called you. I put them on top of the chest of drawers. And now they’re back. Someone is coming in here.”
Gavin pulled Ginger into his arms and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Shhh, darling. I’ll take care of it immediately. It’s quite simple, really. From now on her crib will be in our bedroom instead of the adjoining bedroom and when she naps, put her in her portable bassinet and make sure she’s wherever you are. We’ll get to the bottom of this. I can pull surveillance footage, because if anyone was in here, I’ll know it.”
Gavin stared at the video footage of his daughter’s bedroom still unsure of what exactly he was seeing. It wasn’t possible. And yet he had tangible proof that said otherwise. There wasn’t someone in his daughter’s room but rather something.
No matter how many times he replayed the footage, it remained the same. The two lovies, as Ginger called their daughter’s favorite cuddle toys—and the only reminder of how Ari had come into their lives, a secret tribute to the woman who’d left her baby on their doorstep—would move from wherever Ginger had left them and float across the room before dropping into Ari’s crib.
Logic was something embedded in Gavin. He simply couldn’t wrap his mind around something so . . . illogical.
And directly behind the realization that logic clearly wasn’t prevailing, was fear that chilled him to the bone. Was something evil shadowing their daughter? He’d never believed in spirits or ghosts. They didn’t fit into his logical, well-ordered worldview. But something was causing those toys to float across the room and land in his daughter’s crib.
What the hell was he supposed to tell Ginger without scaring her to death? He’d go to the ends of the earth to protect his wife and their daughter. If he could shield her from any fear, any hurt, then he’d damn well do it and suffer no remorse whatsoever.
He quietly gave the order to his head of security to move Ari’s crib into his and Ginger’s bedroom but instructed him to leave everything else untouched in the nursery.