Her easy agreement made me realize how tired she must be. She’d fought me on everything else.
I scooped Riley up in my arms, careful not to wake her. Despite how small she was, her weight felt incredibly significant in my arms as I carried her out of the room, Layla at my heels.
I shot a chin lift to Gunner and Max as Layla waved goodbye.
“I’ll follow you,” I told Layla when she’d finished buckling Riley into her booster.
Her brow creased. “What? Why?”
“Because I don’t want you driving down the mountain by yourself this late at night and I want to help you get Riley inside,” I answered patiently.
She bit her lip as though deliberating how to answer me.
Christ, how I wanted to bite that lip. “I’m just seeing you home, Layla. Nothing more,” I assured her.
“Okay,” she agreed quietly.
It was a small win, but I’d take it.
I strode to my bike, firing up the motor and following her toward town. Gunner had told me where she lived, and when we pulled up a short time later in front of the two-story home where her nan had lived not that long ago, I was struck by the enormity of what both Layla and Riley must be going through with so much change in such a short time.
I cut the engine and, with minimal argument from Layla, helped lift Riley from her booster and carried her inside.
Layla turned on a few lights and indicated for me to follow her up the stairs. “First door on the left,” she murmured. “I’m just gonna put my purse down,” she added, darting from the room quickly.
I laid Riley on the bed, noting how lived-in her room looked. Clearly Layla had made sure her little girl felt at home. Knowing what little I did about Layla, I wasn’t surprised.
When she returned a moment later, I didn’t imagine that she looked pale and agitated.
“What is it?” I asked immediately.
She shook her head and instead of answering me, moved toward Riley’s bed, pulling the covers up over her and pushing her hair tenderly back from her face. My gaze narrowed on her shaking hands. With a lingering look down at Riley, she turned to leave the room.
I followed her out, surprised when she headed down the hall instead of toward the stairs. She walked into what I assumed was her room, a large master outfitted simply with a king-sized bed, dresser, and two side tables.
“Layla?” I prompted, worried now as she paced, wringing her hands together.
“I think someone was here,” she admitted finally.
My jaw clenched, spine straightening as I scanned the room, immediately on alert. “What makes you think so?”
“My things have been moved around,” she murmured. “I didn’t leave my dresser like that.” She pointed. The drawers were all partially opened.
I moved immediately to her closet and bathroom to make sure both were clear. “Gonna go do a sweep of the house. I’ll start in Riley’s room,” I responded without delay. If someone was hiding in the house, that asshole would be sorry.
She nodded. When it came to Riley’s safety, I knew instinctively that she wouldn’t argue.
I moved methodically through the house, ensuring I checked every bedroom, closet, and every conceivable place someone could hide. It took a while. It was a big house.
When I was satisfied, I checked the lock on the front door. It didn’t look as though it had been tampered with. The slider off the living room was another story. It had clear signs of forced entry.
The blood chilled in my veins. I’d taken Layla’s claim seriously, and here was the evidence she’d been right. Someone had been in the house. But why? For what?
When I found her, she was in Riley’s room, looking down at her daughter, worry clear in her expression.
I grasped her upper arm gently, guiding her back to her own room.
“Someone was here,” I confirmed. “They’re gone now.”