"How long were you in the Army?" she asked suddenly.
"Five years."
She opened her mouth to speak, but something stopped her. I hadn't meant to be abrupt. I didn't find anything worth sharing about my time in the military. I hadn't been a good soldier. Too much thinking, too little reacting. I should have been grateful that they had found ways to use my skills, and I was. Without their talent spotting, I wouldn't be a cop, and given my genetic baggage and my upbringing… I would be another monster. My alcoholic mother killed herself after years of abuse without caring that my sister and I were the ones to find her body when we came back from school. I grew up unable to protect my younger sister from our physically abusive father. The best I could to was to provoke him so that he'd be satisfied beating me up and he'd leave her alone.
When I was recruited for Special Operations, the psych eval said that I was a borderline case. The psychologist gave me green light because of my talents, but there was a big red warning sign at the end of his recommendation: without the proper structure, I would cross the line from soldier to killer. That man shaped my life with his recommendations. I was seconded to the Army's Criminal Investigations Department after a couple of high risk, his reward missions in Special Ops. Provoking monsters served me well ever since. I pushed back the memories and the urge to explain myself to this girl.
"It was a long time ago," I said as warmly as I could, trying to make up for the frosty atmosphere.
"You were just being nice about the bed."
She wanted to dispel the moment of unwitting snoopiness or maybe she was genuinely worried about claiming the room with the bigger bed. Whatever her intent, it helped me relax. I had to smile.
"Not exactly. I'm really not fussy about the beds I sleep in."
"Glad to hear it. I got a little carried away being Sophia," she confessed shyly.
Yes, she did. I could still feel her arms around my waist. The warmth of her body. Her scent. Her breasts pressed against my chest. I had to make sure that didn't happen again. She was just a girl who didn't know she was playing with fire. She thought I was safe for her.
"This is your second undercover operation?"
"Second deep cover operation. I was in Vice in LA. You know how you earn your stripes in Vice."
Of course I did. Even Katherine, who was second generation cop still had to put on a short skirt and walk the streets. Something told me that Skye hadn't fared well in that line of work. There was too much of the girl next door about her, too much of hometown girl and mother's apple pie to appeal to men who paid for sex at street corners.
She was not the kind of woman that appealed to me. She was too nice and well-adjusted for my taste. And even if I never liked the fresh-faced college girl next door type, I never had to live with one before. I was a man and she was stunning. I reacted to her presence. Her body. Her beauty. But I knew myself well enough to notice that I reacted most intensely when she showed vulnerability. That's why I was sure she would appeal to Dvorak. It takes a monster to know a monster. I was aware of my monster, and as such, I could keep it in check. Dvorak was still denying his, and sometimes Mr. Hyde took over Dr. Jekyll.
We started to clear up the kitchen. She had made dinner so washing the dishes was the least I could do.
"Let's talk about tomorrow. He goes jogging every morning at 6.30."
"I'm used to morning jogs. I didn't gain all my mobility yet, but I'll be ok. If he slows down to join me, we'll know if he's interested."
There was no doubt in my mind that he was going to be interested. I had to count on the fact that he wouldn't attack her so close to his house. It was going to be a horrible morning until she came back.
"Then you come home and we get ready to go to lunch at the club. Anna should be there, too, and you'll try to get her to talk to you."
She nodded. Anna Dvorak worked at the Gracenote country club. She was on summer vacation from NYU and from the little we knew about her, she had no close friends in the community.
I went into the study facing Dvorak's house without turning on the light and I looked out the window from behind the curtains. There seemed to be some movement in their house. The car was still outside. On a regular stakeout we'd have cameras pointed at the house all the time and our main concern would be not to get noticed. Undercover meant that we couldn't use any tools, no mics, no cameras, not even our service weapons. It meant that we had to make the killer notice us and take us into his confidence. The damn monster was so meticulous planning the attacks and cleaning his tracks in the aftermath of the murders, we had nothing. We were here on the basis of a geographical and psychological profile and the coincidence of a witness seeing a car that looked like Dvorak's. If I was wrong and he wasn't the killer, another woman would be killed while I was focused on this guy.
"Can we watch a movie or something? I'm getting antsy waiting tomorrow morning."
It was too early to go to bed, and I didn't find a good enough excuse to get out of it. The shower I took after coming from the gym helped me to be around her in our cozy kitchen. Spending an evening on the couch with a woman I found attractive, would not help me relax.
"Sure. What do you want to see?"
"Would you be totally appalled if I said I want to see a scary movie?"
"Not totally," I said. "If it's what you want, sure."
"If you hate it, you can choose the next one."
I refrained from asking why she wanted to see a scary movie when we were in the middle of a nightmare ourselves. She was my colleague. I had to learn to stop analyzing everyone around me.
She went to set up the movie, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I put a bag of popcorn in the microwave, punched in the time it said on the package and I propped my hands on the kitchen sink staring into space. Crime scene images rolled in front of my eyes like a badly edited montage from a movie to the soundtrack of corn popping. We found the bodies in their hotel rooms. All the girls travelled light so there was little to tell us about their personalities. The photos on their phones and on their social media painted the picture of smart people, full of energy, who loved life and approached challenges without fear. Just like the girl who waited for me in the living room.
The oven beeped breaking the spell. I went into the living room with the bowl of popcorn. Skye was on the couch, with her cute ass in the air. I barely averted my eyes in time when she finished plugging in her cell phone and sat back down.
"Mmm smells good!"
I handed her the bowl and sat stiffly next to her. The couch was comfortable and I was tired but I couldn't afford to relax. There would be time to relax after this mission.
"Press play please," she said, raising her leg to reveal that she was half sitting on the remote.
The buttons felt warm under my fingertips. My hand brushed her thigh before closing around the remote, and almost got trapped under her when she lowered her leg. A few minutes later she abandoned the popcorn. Her body tensed and relaxed and tensed again. She was allowing the movie to carry her away. I was looking at the screen but it never captured my attention. It looked like a generic slasher movie, but even if it was a masterpiece it wouldn't be able to compete with the living breathing girl with whom I shared the couch. She took my hand in hers and held it tight until the end of the movie. How many years had it been since I held a woman's hand?
By the time we retired to our rooms, I was more wide awake than I had been that morning. I considered going to the bathroom for a quick release before bed, but decided it against it. I was not going to use my partner as part of my sexual fantasies. I could control myself. I fell asleep wondering if I could control my dreams.
Chapter 9 Meeting Leo
Skye
That wasn't too bad, I congratulated myself before falling asleep. I needed to allow that movie to scare me because I didn't want to start thinking that this mission was a piece of cake. I was sure that Dvorak was the killer, but I was also sure that he wouldn't attack me inside Gracenote. Woo
ds being around was another reason that my fear level was low. The guy was a legend and a veteran of NYPD. Even if Dvorak tried something, he was close enough to protect me. And that was exactly the sort of thinking that would cause me to make mistakes.
The movie itself was over the top and if I was in a more cantankerous state of mind, I would have nitpicked endlessly about police procedure and other unrealistic stuff. It managed to scare me enough to get my heartrate up and give me that shot of adrenaline that reminded me I was on the job. I had no idea what Woods had thought of the movie. He'd been mostly silent and about halfway through the movie I realized I was crushing his hand. He didn't complain and I didn't let go.
I didn't even realize I fell asleep when my alarm blared at six. I had twenty-five minutes to get through my morning routine and be out the door in jogging attire. It took me nineteen minutes to finish everything which allowed me the luxury to get in the kitchen, down a cup of coffee and maybe sandwich before grabbing a bottle of water and running out of the house to my first meeting with the killer.
I banged loudly on his door. We hadn't talked about it but I was sure he wanted to be awake when I left although there was nothing he could do but wait.
"I'm going out," I shouted at him through the door.
Probably there were less dramatic ways to wake him up, but I wanted to torture him a little. It was the sort of thing I'd do to Jack when I knew he had sneaked back home through his window at the small hours of the morning. If I felt particularly mean, I went into his room and started tickling him while he slept while blasting his most hated music.
It wasn't a nice thing to do to Woods. It wasn't his fault my body went nuts and I wanted to climb him like a tree. I didn't feel particularly nice that morning. Not after tossing and turning before falling asleep. I sped through the house to get to the kitchen and the lovely coffee as fast as possible.
I skidded to a stop when I found Woods already in the kitchen with two steaming cups of coffee in front of him.
"Good morning," he said.
"'Morning."
I grabbed the cup he offered me and I took a gulp at the same time as he said. "Wait, it's hot."
"F…udge!"
The hot coffee burned my lips, my tongue and down my throat. I tried to breathe without whining about how much it hurt. My eyes were swimming in tears. I saw his blurred shape move quickly to the fridge and in a few seconds he was handing me a glass of milk.
"Drink," he said.
I obeyed without thinking. The cold milk slid over my throbbing tongue and down my throat. Sweet relief came with it. I poured some of the milk in the coffee and took another, far more careful sip. It was surprisingly good. I took another sip and licked my lips.
"It's very good."
He gave me a half smile as if he didn't take the compliment seriously.
"Sorry about the temperature," he said. "I used the French press."
"Fancy-" I wanted to make fun of him but my phone beeped letting me know it was the time to get out of the house. "Oh, shoot I have to run."
"Be careful," he said.
"Yeah, Dad," I laughed without looking back.
I got out of the house and I inserted the earbuds. The phone was still on the Home playlist from last night so I fiddled with it to get to the Jogging playlist. After some half-hearted stretches, I was on my way in time to see Dvorak get out of his front door in running gear. I smiled at him brightly and took off. The volume of the music was low enough so that I'd hear if someone ran next to me. It startled the hell out of me to hear his voice on my left before I heard his footsteps.
"Hi. Mind if I join you?"
I took off the left earbud and nodded.
"Sure. I saw a park a few streets that way. Good place for running?"
"The best around here. You're new," he said.
He was a good ten inches taller than me and from so close I could see how fit he was. He had wide shoulders, broad chest, his biceps and triceps were visible under his bronzed skin without needing to flex them. I could see well-toned calves I could guess there was a lean stomach under the form fitting t-shirt. He was exactly the type of man I was normally attracted to. Hell, he looked like most of my boyfriends. He had some fifteen years on them, but you wouldn't think so just by looking at his body.
"Yeah, we moved in yesterday. I'm Sophia."
I offered him my hand. He had adjusted his rhythm to mine and shook my hand without missing a step.
"Leo," he said.
My skin crawled at the touch but I was ready for the sensation. Luckily, I didn't have to betray myself by pulling my hand away because he didn't prolong the handshake.
Nothing about the guy screamed violent killer. I had to get better at judging people. He put on his headphones, and I put mine back, too. The only words were him telling me when we had to turn a corner. We made it to the park in about two minutes of very slow running. I was holding back because of my wound and because I hated running on concrete. The first steps on the alleyway of the small park were as if I was running on air. I sped up a little and he matched my speed effortlessly. I couldn't help glancing at his body as he ran. He never caught me doing it but I was sure he knew, just as I was sure he was wrong about the reason. He probably thought I was checking him out, but I kept trying to see the monster in the man next to me. I tried to focus on his hands, to imagine him wielding a hunting knife, to imagine him cutting into flesh and bone.
A beep in my headphones told me that forty minutes had passed since I left the house. I checked the clock on my phone.
"I have to head back," I said loudly.
He nodded without taking off his headphones.
"You can find your way back right?"
I rolled my eyes, tempted to tell him that he sounded like my dad, but I held it back. His smile made me think that he got that look from his daughter, too.
I waved goodbye and turned around. When I looked over my shoulder, I saw him watching me. He waved goodbye and I tripped. For a split second, his smile was less fatherly. I was very good pretending to be a klutz and it had always served me well. That day, it served me to show a predator that I was weak.
When I was out of his sight, I picked up the pace. I hadn't sensed any danger when I ran next to Leo Dvorak, but the look on his face when I was on the ground chilled me to my bones. I needed to be back inside the house.
"I'm hoooome," I yelled when I got in. "Daaaad!"
Woods came out of his study with an amused expression.
"I was at the window," he said. "We're still doing the cover inside the house?"
I rolled my eyes at his rebuke. I had to watch that or I might hurt my eyes or something. Why did men have to be so eye-roll-worthy?
"Just in case someone was passing by and they could hear me," I said at a normal volume. "I'm thorough that way."
He shook his head, seeming even more amused. A wave of warmth washed over me. My stomach clenched. No, not my stomach. Lower. It was unnerving that I felt less at ease around him than around the killer albeit for very different reasons.
"He didn't come back with you."
"No. I left him at the park to run. He's keeping in good shape."
"Yes, I noticed at the gym," Woods said, his voice sounding serious and all amusement had drained from his features. "Something's not right."
The sweat cooled on my skin and the hair rose on the back of my neck. Woods was famous for getting insights into dark and twisted minds. Maybe Katherine got used to his ominous way of coming up with theories, but I wasn't. I flopped on the arm of the couch and stared at him, dreading what he was going to say. He shook his head as if to clear his mind.
"Go get changed. We'll talk after."
My legs were shaking when I peeled off the sweaty clothes and it got worse when I was in the shower. Whatever Woods had to say would have to wait. First, I had to scrub my skin to try to remove the sensation of the killer's eyes on me. I wanted to be quick about it but the image of Nicholas Woods waiting fo
r me in the kitchen unexpectedly morphed into a fantasy of him bending me over the kitchen table. My hand slipped between my thighs and I closed my eyes, no longer fighting the need for release.
Chapter 10 Life with Sophia
Nicholas
Sophia's assessment of Dvorak's physical fitness came as a confirmation. It bothered me since ever since I met the guy. The victims were tied up and they had too many shallow cuts. Some of them even had defensive wounds. None of the five slim young women should have been much of a challenge for him. My instinct still told me he was the killer, but something was not as clear cut as I had first thought.
I went into the kitchen to make myself another coffee and to prepare something for Skye, like any loving father would. Speaking of my temporary partner, I remembered her little trick with the water yesterday when I was in the shower. I've been through some rough stuff in my life, so a sudden cold shower didn't make me scream, but that didn't mean I was above some payback. I turned on the hot water in the kitchen full blast and in a few seconds I heard muffled screams and curses from upstairs. It sounded like she could dish it out, but she couldn't take it.
I had some healthy snacks laid out for her, but even in that clean, bright kitchen I couldn't get away from my thoughts. I thought about the dead girls again, and the strong healthy body of the man I saw exercising the other day. The man I saw run away with my new partner. I missed Katherine. I would still worry about her safety but she had proven time and again that she could take care of herself. This girl worried me. She wanted to prove herself so badly I could taste it. She might be all sunshine and smiles, but she was going to bait the monster into coming after her. I knew it in my bones and I had no way of turning back. No, that was a lie. I could stop this operation. I'd make a fool of myself for doing it. Even more than that, I wanted to know the son of a bitch in jail where he belonged.
Darkening Skye (Under Covers Book 1) Page 4