Kyle turned to look at her. Seriously? Pen’s stepfather was a US Senator? Why hadn’t he made the name connection before? And more importantly, why hadn’t she ever mentioned it? People who came from status generally took pleasure in letting those around them know they were a big deal—and Senator Cantrel was a big fucking deal. Why would she keep something like that from him? Which posed the bigger question, what else was she hiding? Did he really know this woman at all?
The detective nodded, grabbing a pen and scribbling notes in the file. “Do you think this harassment could be targeted against your father? Could someone be using you to get to him?”
“Stepfather, and no. That’s not what this is.”
“How are you so certain? Is there a chance this attempted abduction could have been a failed ransom?”
“No. We don’t speak. Trust me, I’m the last person he’d pay a ransom on.”
The detective studied her, seeming to dissect Pen’s statement, but she said nothing more, just returned the detective’s stare with an equally inscrutable look. Kyle knew that expression well. He’d been on the receiving end of it more than he cared to. As far as Pen was concerned, the subject was closed. After a moment, he nodded. “Fair enough. Do you have any idea who could be doing this, then? Any leads or places to start looking?”
“That’s just it. I’ve tried, and I can’t think of who it could possibly be.”
“No jealous ex-boyfriends? That’s always a good place to start. I can reference any names against my other cases. Maybe something will match.”
“What about Travis?” Kyle asked. If she wasn’t going to say it, then he would. Whether Pen wanted to acknowledge it or not, that guy had a thing for her and he hadn’t been happy to discover she had a “boyfriend.”
“It’s not Travis,” she dismissed.
Her quick defense of him annoyed Kyle. “How do you know, Pen?”
“Because Travis is not an asshole.”
“Maybe not to your face.” But Kyle knew guys like him, and the potential was there.
Turning to look at the detective, she told him with firm adamancy. “It’s not Travis.”
“Well, it’s someone. And I need you to help me help you. This is personal or professional, but it’s not random. If we eliminate the professional, and you’re sure this does not involve your stepfather, then that leaves personal. This guy knows you, Ms. Cantrel. And to enter your place of work like that he’s daring—and dangerous. You work at a psychiatrist’s office, right? How would he know you’d be there alone? This happened during business hours, correct?”
She paled as the detective’s words sank in and slowly nodded. Kyle reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.
“As I mentioned earlier, this case has some similarities with another—”
“The missing person.”
“Yes. Peyton Sinclair.”
Pen’s grip on Kyle’s hand tightened. Her little nails bit into his palm, sending a niggling of unease prickling his flesh. “Do you have a picture of her?”
The detective pulled a photo from the file and handed it across the desk. Pen glanced at it and a sickly gray pallor came over her. “Oh shit. I know this woman.”
Surprise was the common theme in the room. The detective looked hopeful that Pen might finally be the break he needed in this case. Kyle was alarmed to discover the connection was closer than he’d thought, and Pen was pretty freaked out.
“Peyton used to be Dr. Summers’ patient. She started seeing her and then abruptly stopped coming with no explanation why. Dr. Summers tried to contact her, but she wouldn’t answer any of her calls.”
“How long ago was that?” the detective asked, rapidly taking down notes.
“I’d have to check her records, but about three months ago I think.”
“That’s one month before she disappeared. I’m going to need her psychiatric records. I’ll start working on a court order right away. Maybe she mentioned someone stalking her. In the meantime, please let me know if you think of anyone, or any other connection with Ms. Sinclair. And forward me any correspondence this guy has with you.” The detective grabbed a card, scribbled his number on the back, and handed it to her. “Call me anytime. That’s my cell on the back. Be careful, though it looks like you’ve got that base covered.” His gaze cut to Kyle. “Don’t underestimate this guy. I don’t believe in coincidences. If Ms. Cantrel knows Peyton Sinclair, there’s a connection here. My job is to find it and catch this bastard before anyone else gets hurt.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re the daughter of a US Senator?”
Pen knew this was coming, she just didn’t expect it so soon. Her mind was reeling after meeting with the detective. Her legs felt numb as she navigated the stairs. Peyton Sinclair was missing…
“Step,” Pen snapped, failing to keep the irritability from her voice. Her pace quickened as she crossed the parking lot but Kyle had no trouble keeping up—even with the bum knee. She knew this was going to happen. She knew it. It had taken less than thirty seconds for the detective to make the connection, which was why she hadn’t wanted to go to the police in the first place. Once Detective Paskel started digging into her past, the same way he was digging in to Peyton’s, her secret was going to come out. What if he started questioning her about the allegations, the hospitalization...
“And why would I tell you? It’s irrelevant.”
“Really?” Kyle grabbed her arm, jerking her to a stop outside the car. “Sharing a part of your life with me, telling me who you are is irrelevant? Is that how we’re playing this now? You and me. We’re on a need to know basis? My life’s an open book, but you get to remain a mystery?”
He was mad. And she couldn’t blame him. It sucked getting blindsided like that, but it still didn’t change the fact that there were parts of her life he’d never know about. The problem was, she feared Kyle would never accept that, and if he wanted to be with her then he was going to have to do just that. Kyle wasn’t a man of compromise. He was strong, stubborn, and unbendable. He’d had to be in order to survive what he’d been through. He’d been dealt a devastating hand that would have destroyed most people, and he’d not only saved his sister’s life, but he’d built a successful fighting career that put him at the top of his weight class. Kyle never did anything half-assed and she was pretty sure he’d never settle for anything less from her. It was only a matter of time. He’d only allow her to hold back for so long. Hadn’t he heard the adage Be careful what you wish for?
“I didn’t tell you because that’s not my life anymore, and it sucked. My dad died from a heart attack when I was eleven, and Mom married the senator when I was thirteen. I don’t like talking about it because my dad and I were very close.” That wasn’t at all why she didn’t like talking about it. “I’d think you of all people would understand that.”
He gave her an inscrutable look. “Understand what?”
“How hard it is to lose someone you love.”
He exhaled a frustrated sigh. “Of course I understand that.” He opened the door for her and she climbed inside the car. Would this be enough for him to let it go? He rounded the car and got into the driver’s seat. After firing up the engine he turned to her and said, “But I don’t think that’s it, Pen. I think you don’t want me knowing about your family because you have no intention of ever letting me meet them.”
That was exactly why. Kyle would never meet William Cantrel or her mother. But it alarmed her he’d figured it out so quickly. Pen’s mind raced for an explanation, but before she could supply a plausible one, he came up with his own.
“You ashamed of me, Pen? Embarrassed to bring an MMA fighter home to meet Senator Daddy?”
Seriously? Was that what he thought? Hadn’t she defended him to her sister? Then again, his brief interaction with snobby Veronica probably helped lead him to that conclusion. She bit back her denial before it left her tongue. It may have made her look like a pr
etentious bitch, but that was still better than him knowing the truth. She dared a glance at him. That little muscle in his jaw ticked, his grip on the steering wheel white-knuckled. He was pissed.
She didn’t deny it. All she said was, “I’m sorry, Kyle.” And she was. He took her apology as an admission and she swallowed against the lump in her throat, feeling like shit for hurting him. He didn’t deserve this. Bottom line, he deserved a hell of a lot better than her. “Kyle.”
“You don’t have to explain, Pen. I understand you just fine.”
“But—”
“It’s fine,” he snapped, cutting her off. “I need to get to the hospital. I’ll drop you off at my house on the way.”
He wasn’t even offering to bring her with him, and that stung more than she wanted to admit, but no more than she deserved. She’d hoped to go along and meet his sister, though Pen wasn’t about to tell him that. Not now. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of rejecting her the way he perceived she’d just slighted him.
“All right.” Sighing, she settled back in the seat and stared out the window as they left downtown.
It was late by the time Kyle got home. He’d spent the evening with Willow while Regan finally went home to shower and get some rest. They’d talked a long time—about the accident, the parole hearing, her and Regan
It’d been good, because yeah, nothing provided perspective on the important things in life like a brush with death. While he’d been there, the DOC called to inform him that the panel had come to a decision and they would not be granting Sean Campoli’s parole request and he would not be eligible for early release for another five years.
It was perfect timing that she’d been there with him to hear the good news. She’d cried with relief and thanked Kyle for going to the hearing on her behalf. His support of Willow had gone a long way in mending the bridge between them.
Pen had messaged him earlier to let him know she was at his place and settled in for the night. He’d gotten the impression from her text that she felt bad about their argument earlier, which was more than he’d expected from her, considering she wasn’t one to ever admit she might be wrong. Maybe a night apart had done them both some good. She needed to think about what she wanted, and he needed to think about how much he was willing to risk on a long shot, because just when he thought they were getting close and she was finally letting him in, he discovered how very wrong he was.
He tried to be quiet as he slipped inside so he didn’t wake her, not bothering with the lights as he navigated through the house in the dark.
Whack!
Kyle’s toe connected with something hard and he tripped. Sonofabitch! He stumbled forward, but regained his footing before almost face-planting into the wall. He felt for the switch and flipped it on, surprised to find a stack of boxes in the entryway. What the hell? Was she moving in? She’d said she was going to “grab a few things.” Honest to God, this woman gave him whiplash.
They weren’t close enough for her to tell him that her stepfather was a US Senator, and yet she’d seemed disappointed when he hadn’t offered to take her to the hospital with him. Why would she want to go anyway? What was the point in investing in this any further when she had no intention of trying to make it work long-term?
He’d never introduced Willow to any of the women he’d messed around with before, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now. He’d taken great care to shelter her from that part of his life. Partially out of shame because he knew Mom and Dad would never have approved, but also because he didn’t want Willow knowing what a manwhore he’d been. But that wasn’t what this was with Pen. So then, what was it? Fuck if he knew. What Kyle wanted to it be, and what she was willing for it to become, remained to be seen.
He navigated the obstacle course through his living room and made his way upstairs. Careful to avoid the squeaky floorboards, he crept down the hall to his room. He was tempted to crack Pen’s door and check on her, but he didn’t want to risk waking her. He hadn’t intended to get home so late, but he was grateful for the alone time with Willow.
After a quick shower, he climbed into bed. Exhaustion riddled his body and yet his mind robbed him of sleep. Too many thoughts culminated inside his head. Should he take the job Coach was offering him? Was there any reason not to? Would his vision for the gym align with the team’s? How would they feel about sharing their space with a youth program or a class of women learning how to defend themselves? Considering their interest in Pen and group participation earlier, they may not be too resistant to the idea.
The publicity would be good for Miller MMA, and that would be good for Coach’s legacy, but that wasn’t the driving force. Kyle just wanted to make a difference, to help people. Would this job give him the purpose and fulfillment he was lacking in the cage? How would he handle working with Dean? On more than one occasion, he’d wanted to throat-punch that guy. All good questions, and ones he’d have to ponder some more.
Shelving the thoughts, he tried once again to seek the sanctuary of slumber only to have his mind torture him with imagery of Pen and their hot as hell make-out session the other night. Yeah, that woman definitely had him in knots. He grew hard as the tormenting play-by-play ran through his mind on an endless pornographic loop. Damn, he wanted her—bad—and knowing she was only one door away was the worst kind of temptation.
In any other scenario, he would have succumbed, but this was different. For the first time in his life, it wouldn’t be “just sex.” And if he was being honest, that spooked him a little. Especially since he knew she didn’t feel the same way about him. It sucked balls to be falling for someone who didn’t love him back. Best not make a bad situation worse, and dipping his dick in her honey hole would be the antithesis of a good plan.
Exhaling a sigh, he considered palming his hard-on and bringing some relief to his aching balls, but if tossing off was going to curb his hunger, surely it would have worked by now. His hand was a poor substitute for Pen, and at this point it just felt like a disservice to his cock. The suckiest thing of all was that he knew exactly what he was missing. He knew how tight her pussy was, how delicious she tasted on his tongue. He knew the sounds she made when she came, that little catch in her breath when she finally surrendered the control she so desperately clung to and gave herself over to her release.
The floorboard outside his room creaked and his breath stalled in his lungs. Was that real or wishful thinking? He listened for the sound again, but he heard nothing but silence. He almost convinced himself he’d imagined it when his bedroom door slowly eased open.
The nimbus of light shining down the hall painted her in an ethereal glow, giving him a glimpse of her burgundy nightie. The lace-trimmed satin barely passed mid-thigh. Then, just as quickly, the vision was gone as she closed the door behind her, blanketing them in darkness. Without his sight, his other senses were heightened. His heart kicked inside his chest, but then maybe that was his response to her and had nothing to do with losing the visual.
“You awake?” Her soft voice came over him like a caress. His chest tightened, squeezing the muscle already working frantically to pump blood to the rest of his body but his cock was hijacking the supply.
“Yeah, I’m awake.” He could hear her feet quietly padding across the floor, her steps drawing closer. Tension hummed inside his veins, ratcheting tighter with each passing second. The covers lifted and the mattress dipped beside him. He was naked beneath the sheets, but she didn’t seem surprised or put off by the discovery as her warm little body snuggled up against him, her soft skin pure torture as it grazed his. He’d never wanted a woman as much as he wanted her, but fuck, if she wasn’t like trying to catch sand. The tighter he gripped it, the faster it slipped through his fingers.
Something about her drove him wild and he wished like hell he knew what it was. Sure, she was gorgeous and she had a rockin’ body, but he’d been with many beautiful women. His attraction, this…dare he say, obsession, went far deeper than the physical
realm. Maybe it was her complexity, because damn if he could figure her out. There was so much to her; so much that lay beneath the surface. She intrigued the competitor in him. He loved a good fight and he knew with absolute certainty that to win her heart, he’d have one hell of a battle on his hands.
The trick would be knowing when to play his offense and his defense, because she would need to believe she was in control. Which was why he didn’t move when she crawled over him, blanketing him with those lush curves. The warm satin barrier of her nightie might as well be non-existent. He could feel her pebbled nipples pressing against his chest, her quickened pulse rising to a tempo that matched his own.
He knew she wanted him. For them, it was never a question of attraction. They had great chemistry and the sex…hands down the best he’d ever had, but the problem with Pen was that he wanted more. And she didn’t. Giving in to her was a gamble, because if she got what she wanted, he had the gut feeling he’d never get what he wanted—her heart.
Her mouth found his in the darkness, full soft lips connecting with his. His erection was trapped between them, leaving no question in her mind how desperately his body craved hers. As if to taunt him with the knowledge, she shifted her hips, gliding her hot center down the rigid length of his cock.
No panties…
Reflexively, his hands came up to palm her bare ass. He wasn’t sure if he gripped her to stop her or to work her over his aching dick again. They could both come like this—but he wanted more. Kyle stifled a groan when her sweet little tongue pushed past his lips to tease against his. What started out sweet and playful quickly turned desperate—like one of those gallows kisses that only existed in the movies, but damn if this didn’t feel real…
His biceps flexed, dragging her up his length then working her back down it. He swallowed her soft moan and it tasted so good. The urge to roll her beneath him and bury himself inside her swiftly rose like an unstoppable force. His reasoning for why this might not be such a great idea became a distant thought well beyond his grasp.
In for the Win (Against the Cage Book 5) Page 19