Eden’s voice came over the line just as he started to disconnect.
“Hi, Dad!”
Her cheerful voice hit a deep part of his heart that never failed to tighten whenever she was near.
“Hi, baby,” he said gruffly. “How are you?”
“I’m good. What’s up?”
“Nothing,” he said hastily. “I just . . . I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“Is everything all right? Are you okay, Dad?”
The worry in her voice shook him from his dark thoughts. The very last thing he wanted was her worried and distracted. If she was focused on something else—him—then she wouldn’t be paying attention like she should. She’d make a mistake. Slip up. Allow someone the chance to get to her.
“I’m fine, baby girl,” he said, making his voice stronger. “I just wanted to see how my girl was doing.”
“I’m good. Just got done with the afternoon shoot. If I never see another froufrou yip-yap dog it’ll be too soon,” she grumbled.
Despite the gravity of the situation, Eddie smiled. No. His girl wasn’t one for irritating furballs. She’d much rather be surrounded by bigger, stronger dogs. Her “baby” was an English mastiff well over two hundred pounds.
“King is going to be pissed when he smells these other dogs on me,” she said in disgust. “I’ll have to bribe him with treats for a week.”
“Are you resting enough?” he asked. “Don’t let your agent work you into the ground, Eden.”
She laughed. “If anything I work him too hard. You know that, Dad. He’s always after me to slow down. And well, maybe one day I will. But right now I have to hit it hard while I’m still in demand. In another year or two, no one will want me. There’s always someone younger, prettier coming up the ranks. And you know that I’m getting old in model years.”
He rolled his eyes and let out a grumble. Didn’t make a damn bit of sense to him. Eden was only twenty-four years old and yet she talked like she was some middle-aged nag about to be put out to pasture. She constantly reminded him that for a model, she was old.
“Oh hey, let me go, Dad. That’s Ryker calling now. We’ve been playing phone tag all day and I have to tell him happy birthday.”
Eddie’s chest tightened at the mention of his middle child. Eden’s older brother. The two were as thick as thieves. Always had been. Eddie hadn’t forgotten his son’s birthday. But he’d put his call to him off because he knew what he’d say wouldn’t be the best birthday message in the world.
“Talk to you later, then. Love you,” Eddie said gruffly.
“Love you too, Dad,” she sang out just before the line went silent.
Still gripping his phone, he hesitated only a brief moment before punching in a seemingly endless series of numbers and codes. He’d sworn he’d never involve Guy again. Not after what he’d done for Eddie in the name of revenge after his wife had died. No, she hadn’t just fucking died. She’d been murdered.
Eddie closed his eyes in frustration when once again he failed to connect to the one person he trusted with Eden’s life. A man who’d never allow anyone to hurt her.
“Hancock,” Eddie said raspingly, clearing his throat in order to leave yet another message. “It’s me. Big Eddie Sinclair. I need your help. It’s Eden. I’m afraid . . .” He broke off, refusing to allow his weaknesses to be aired over even a secure line. “I need your help. Call me as soon as you get this.”
He ended the call and then leaned back in his chair, dreading what he had to do next. Weariness and dread assailed him. His sons wouldn’t understand. How could they? Eddie had never confided in them that their mother’s death was no accident and that her killer had been ruthlessly hunted down and taken out. Though he hadn’t been present, he knew without asking that his wife’s killer’s death had been slow and painful. The mission had been deeply personal to Hancock as well, for Eddie’s wife was in all ways a surrogate mother to Hancock himself.
Now Eddie had to call them. Because he had to ask for their help if they were going to close ranks around Eden.
He punched in Raid’s number and waited, knowing that unless his son was out on a call, he’d answer. Two seconds later, his idea was confirmed when his son answered.
“Hey, Dad. Shouldn’t you be calling the worm today? It’s his birthday, not