Desperate to Touch

by W Winters

  Officer Cody Walsh is watching me.

  Maybe he’s waiting for me to break. The question is: how long will he wait?

  The door opens suddenly, ripping me from the trance I’d been in as I stared at my own reflection. From the scrubs I put on yesterday morning, to my red-rimmed eyes, blotchy from smeared mascara, I look like hell. Or rather like I’ve been to hell and come back to tell the tale.

  Again my heart reacts at a sudden unfamiliar noise as the door opens, thumping and loudly protesting this man’s existence.

  Cody Walsh will always look handsome, I’m sure of it. There’s a charming air that surrounds him as he lets the door close behind him, a coffee in each of his hands. He’s not dressed in his uniform, clad only in faded jeans and a crisp white collared shirt. Classically handsome fits him well. Wholesome, even. With neatly trimmed hair and never more than a five o’clock shadow on his face to pair with his gorgeous blue eyes and pearl-white smile, he’s a good-looking man to say the least. A little older, but good-looking nonetheless.

  “You didn’t sleep,” he comments with compassion in his tone. I wish he weren’t compassionate. That’s how he gets me and I’m so aware, yet so in need.

  I fall for it. My dreary night lends itself to a need for sympathy. The ball of emotions clouds my vision and I let my hand fall over my eyes, scrubbing them and reminding myself that I can’t say anything to anyone, no matter how long I’m meant to wait in this room. Anything I can think to say to Walsh in greeting jumbles itself at the back of my throat. I suppose some piece of me would rather choke on the words than give them to the man who arrested me.

  “The guilty ones sleep.” Walsh’s voice remains casual, friendly even. It’s unavoidable to look him in the eyes as he walks over to me, confidently and nonthreatening in the least. “You didn’t and I knew you wouldn’t,” he says as he places a cup of coffee beside me. It smells like cinnamon and he must notice how I gaze down at the cup longingly the moment it hits the hard, unforgiving table. Which is the only thing that’s been my company for hours. I shift in my spot and suddenly realize how sore my elbow is from resting in the same position for so long.

  The white paper cup is innocuous, the black lid standard, but it looks and smells like heaven to me.

  Wrapping both of my hands around it, the warmth is everything. “Do you intentionally keep the room cold?” I ask as my shoulders shake with another click of the air conditioner turning back on. I knew it was coming, but still wasn’t ready for the sudden sound. It’s less of a shock with Cody distracting me though.

  Officer Walsh looks up at the vent only a foot from me before turning, leaving the room without a word and then coming right back. The constant breeze is no longer present and he gives me a weak smile although his eyes don’t reach my own. “My apologies.”

  The concrete floor protests in a loud screech as he pulls out the metal chair across from me. I take a sip of the coffee, unable to refrain any longer. The least I can do for myself is consume some sort of energy. I haven’t eaten in a long damn time since I didn’t take my lunch break on my last shift. I don’t know if the coffee is decaf or not, but the warmth alone is welcome. My eyes close and the lack of cool air against them grants me a small sense of peace. It’s short-lived, but it was there for a moment.

  Walsh gestures to the coffee and says, “Cinnamon crumb cake or something like that. It was the special of the day. I don’t know how you take it.”

  “It’s perfect,” I find myself saying as I open my eyes and stare straight ahead at the blank wall. I add after the tick of the clock, “Thank you.”

  He nods in acknowledgment but then what he’s holding steals his gaze from me. There’s a folder in his grasp and he puts it on the table but doesn’t open it. Splaying his hands, he places them on either side of the folder and looks down at it as he speaks, rather than at me.

  I wonder what it contains. Maybe evidence they found. Statements they took. Maybe it’s all blank papers and the man across from me simply wants to make me scared. At this point and from everything I’ve learned in my lifetime, any of those options are possible.

  “There are three ways I see this playing out.” With the first bit spoken and my heart pumping harder, Walsh looks me in the eyes. He clears his throat and says the first option: “You’re tried and convicted for the murder of a cop.”

  I swallow, the remaining cinnamon-flavored coffee suddenly making my throat tight. My pulse seems weaker and my head feels lighter at the thought. I could spend the rest of my life in prison. How is that justice? My conscience plays flashes of my life for me, each moment I got away with something wrong, something I shouldn’t have done. Justice and karma are quite different, aren’t they? When I push the warm cup away and fold my arms over myself, the cop continues, his voice a bit stronger. “The second option: I let you walk away and you go back to the man who had you take the fall.”

  I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from speaking up to defend Seth and I know Cody Walsh sees it. The metallic taste of blood is awful, but uttering a word right now would be worse. I have to work hard to school my expression to neutral. I won’t say a word. I haven’t got a damn thing to say to him. If I so much as mention Seth, they could bring him in. He’s shot, he’s not okay.

  Seth would have never meant for me take the fall. Never. I all but pushed him out that window. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good man to me. My heart sputters as the vision of Seth confessing to me last night comes back. I hide it, burying it beneath the image of him taking a bullet for me. How am I supposed to think straight when my world is so tilted?

  My eyes close with the silent prayer that Seth’s all right. That he did what I told him to. My eyes open again while wondering: what are the odds that he already knows I’m in here? They have to be high. He must know. If he’s able, he’ll save me. I know he will.

  “Or the third option,” Walsh continues. “Charges are pressed against you, you go to jail, and Seth, with the help of the Cross brothers, pull their strings to get you out.”

  Hope flutters at the thought of the last scenario being the case. That will happen. That is the most likely outcome, right?

  I’ve never known Seth to abandon me. He can be crude, an asshole. He’s lied to me and done so many wrong things. Worse than just wrong. He does things that are horrible, things that some say would send him straight to hell. But never once has he abandoned me. He’ll go through hell, commit all those sins ten times over, just to save me. It’s one of the things I’ll always love about him. He’s a damaged man beyond repair, but he wouldn’t let me suffer if he could stop it.

  The rustling of Cody’s jeans as he readjusts in his seat brings my gaze back to his. “None of those instances lead to justice.” Justice sounds funny. Like it doesn’t belong in that sentence, let alone this conversation. “I think the third is the most likely, if you’re wondering.”

  I have to blink away my surprise at his admission.

  “Given the experiences I’ve had so far in this city, the men you hang around have a way of protecting themselves and I,” he pauses to suck in a breath, his brow rising before falling back into place. He lets out the breath and continues, “I hadn’t realized how close you were to them until recently.”

  Tick, tick, my heart beats faster than the clock. I want to tell him that I’m not close to the Cross brothers, but I don’t say a word. Remembering that not speaking is my best defense. If they charge me, I’ll get a lawyer. Right now I’m in holding and having a lawyer won’t change that. I’m aware of my rights.

  “I don’t know what will happen to you after you leave here, and that worries me.”

  The concern he displays nearly makes me respond that I’ll be safe with Seth, but that’s none of his business. Not only that, but I don’t know how I could ever be with Seth again. My throat tightens at remembering what started this domino effect.

  I have to clear my throat before I can tell Officer Walsh I don’t have anything to say other th
an the initial statement I gave. It was self-defense and I hardly remember anything at all. I told them everything happened so fast and I was so scared that I think I blacked out. It was the best excuse I could come up with at the time and now I’m sticking to it.

  “The thing is, one of the men was a cop. So even if they get you out of here, the investigation won’t stop.”

  Out of a nervous habit, I grab the coffee and sip. I’d rather drink than speak.

  “There are men who aren’t in the back pocket of the Cross brothers. Men who also break the law and they’ll go around it to see someone pay for Officer Darby’s death.”

  “Are you threatening me?” I ask and the shock is unrestrained, new fear coming to life.

  “No. Not at all.” His response is quickly spoken, his eyes wide like he wasn’t anticipating my reaction in the least. The next thing he says is spoken with strength and sincerity. “I’ll do everything I can to protect you.” My question obviously shook him and his answer was quick and sincere. “I don’t want you to be involved. It can’t end well for you if you are.”

  My nod is imperceptible as I absently scratch my nail against the paper coffee cup.

  Words sit on the tip of my tongue. An explanation that the cop is obviously in the wrong, but now I question everything. Seth shot first. The masked man had the gun raised though. I’ve played it so many times in the back of my mind that the sequence of events is a blur and for a split second I’m not sure if I am remembering correctly. Inwardly I shake my head. Seth shot first. I know that truth. But those men threatened me with deadly force, the cop included. If I could go back, I wouldn’t want Seth to wait and see whether or not the trigger was pulled. If he had, I might be dead.

  It has to mean something that I was threatened in my own home. That has to be important. The most important thing. All the words tangle at the back of my throat and I can’t swallow.

  They strangle me.

  Cody Walsh looks down at me with such sympathy, I nearly crack and ask him to tell me if it matters. It has to matter, doesn’t it?

  My ass feels numb as I readjust in my seat, suddenly aware of how uncomfortable I am. My eyes are dry and burning. Of all the fatigues and pains, they hurt almost the most. Almost.

  My fingers spread across my chest as I feel the faint pumping of my battered heart. Nothing could hurt worse than this.

  I haven’t forgotten what Seth confessed. The pain is proof of that.

  “Let me help you,” the good officer suggests as if he can. Nothing can help me. I won’t betray Seth. I barely survived the first time. I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror if I do it again. With weary eyes, I close them lightly, refusing to answer.

  I have to sniff, breaking the silence and suddenly feeling stuffy. I haven’t cried and I’m proud of that. In the face of everything crumbling around me, I don’t feel the need. What’s done is done and now I wait. It’s all I can do.

  “The death sentence is a possibility in this state, Laura. You don’t want to risk this,” he stresses.

  “I don’t have anything to say, Officer Walsh,” I say and my voice is eerily calm. At my decision, the click of the air conditioner returns. I keep my eyes on Cody, but he moves his to the vent.

  Although it genuinely tugs at my lips, I let out a small humorless laugh when he turns to look at the door, as if he’ll see through it to whomever has turned the air back on.

  It’s a long moment before he says, “We can hold you for forty-eight hours without charging you.”

  I don’t look at him. The metal table holds all my attention because it plays my life back for me like a movie. From the first time I laid eyes on Seth King to the sight he was last night. Forty-eight hours in here. I can make it that long. The tick, tick, tick of the ever-present clock calms any anxiousness I have. It’s a balm to my torn soul, even if my hands do shake in my lap.

  “Laura.” The way the officer says my name grips my gaze, forcing me to look him in the eyes. They’re the most tranquil of blues and riddled with concern. It would be touching if I didn’t feel so much peace at the thought of simply being alone. “He killed one of us. They aren’t going to let this go.”

  I don’t respond. I don’t have anything to say and I’ve already made that clear.

  “Please, let me help you,” he beseeches.

  My hands are hot when I press them to my eyes, breathing in deep and feeling the weight of everything pulling me under what feels like the roughest of tides.

  I’ve been beyond help for quite some time. Forty-eight more hours isn’t going to change that.

  * * *

  Continue reading Tempted to Kiss!

  Also by W Winters

  Read Willow’s sexiest and most talked about romances in the Merciless World

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  An epic tale of both betrayal and all-consuming love...

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  And Delilah, the lawyer caught in between.

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  A Kiss to Tell (a standalone novel)

  They lived on the same street and went to the same school, although he was a year ahead. Even so close, he was untouchable.

  Sebastian was bad news and Chloe was the sad girl who didn’t belong.

  Then one night changed everything.

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  Possessive (a standalone novel)

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  Eight years ago she ran from him.

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  Extended epilogues to the Merciless World Novels

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