Broken Pieces

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Broken Pieces Page 10

by Deja Black


  When she asked Remi for his drink choice, he found his throat was dry, so he croaked out water which made her eyes bulge. Telling her they would both need more time for their meal requests resulted in a very unpretty snort from Peter.

  “Yes?” he questioned him.

  “You seem uncomfortable, Detective. Is there anything I can do to help?” That look right there was devilish. Peter knew how he made Remi feel, the devil.

  “There’s much you could do, but I can wait. Until then, let’s look at the menu. I’m needing some meat myself. You?”

  “Hmm. That sounds lovely. Lots of choices here. This is one of my favorite places to eat, and I’m never disappointed with a selection. I happen to enjoy variety.”

  “I’m up for anything, myself.”

  Peter smiled knowingly.

  “Well, then. The menu first, yes? Then later, who knows?” He lifted the menu, flipping through it before finding his choice. He chose the Bananas Foster with an Everything muffin, extra bacon, and sausage on the side. Liking the idea of that for himself, Remi decided to order the same.

  Peter’s upcoming gallery project was their next topic with Peter sharing how dedicated he was to ensuring families struck by tragedy received care. He worked hard to ensure outdated warehouses were revitalized to give homes to displaced amilies, schools received donations to purchase better materials. It seemed wherever there was a need, a place where children were left sailing in the wind, Peter Romanoff hoisted the sails to buttress them against the storm.

  Seeing this, learning of it only made Remi’s feelings for Peter to grow. Remi wondered what drove a man like the one who sat before him, whose pictures apparently brought in thousands of dollars. What made him fight so hard to save the forgotten?

  From what he saw, Peter was not a man who wanted for anything. He didn’t know the names of the labels he wore, but he realized when he was looking at the finer things in life. Peter was worthy, though. He deserved to be swathed in priceless silks, wrapped in precious metals, his skin glistening in the sun like a gift from the gods. My gift.

  Remi wasn’t sure how long he’d just watched Peter’s lips move and his hands wave in the air while he spoke. But, he wasn’t talking anymore. Instead, his eyes fell on Remi, devouring him, a tiny smile on his face.

  “I’m sorry about the other day.”

  Peter’s smile fell away, eyes shining.

  “Yes. I know, Remi,” He sighed. “She was a beautiful woman with vision and a kind heart. Marisol was going to contribute a few of her own pieces to the gallery showing. We’d grown closer over the years. Her husband, her children will miss her terribly. I will, too.”

  Remi nodded. “You’re right there. No one’s said a negative word. Even a few of her students, those who didn’t do as well in her class, said she was fair, a professor who loved her subject and her students.”

  Peter looked up. “You sound surprised. Suspicious, maybe? Not everyone has secrets to hide. Some people, Marisol included, are genuine.”

  Remi let that settle in for a moment before he asked. “And you, Peter? Any secrets to hide?” Peter’s eyes turned dark, the open expression he wore icing over glacially.

  “Is there something you would like to know, Remi?” Peter reclined, stretching his legs beneath the table. A chasm opened between them. Remi sensed the change physically. “I find a man much more attractive when he’s straightforward. If there is something you need to know, love, you’ve only to ask.”

  “Mark Dannon.”

  “Ah.” Peter lifted a linen napkin to his mouth, dabbed at it swiftly.

  “Well, then. It appears you know of his death.”

  “I do.”

  “Somehow I’m not surprised.”

  “It’s a small world,” Peter responded this time, more white glinting beneath his upper lip, a glimpse of canine that wasn’t present before.

  “Made smaller when you know the right people.”

  “True.” Peter looked up as the waitress refilled his drink. It was barely gone, but in an effort to be the perfect server, she filled it anyway. Remi got it. How many times had he done the same thing working here or there in the hopes of more? He wanted more. Right now, that more was Peter, but not at the cost of his case. Some truths a person just couldn’t barter no matter the reason.

  “So,” Remi queried.

  “Mark and I dated a few years ago. He wanted more. More money, more time, but mostly whatever my card acquired for him. He wasn’t abhorrent. More opportunistic and yet a pleasant memory. We had some enjoyable nights.” Peter sipped from his drink before continuing. “But, I’ve never settled into a relationship especially one where the focus was more my pocket than anything else.” They’d discovered that Dannon was using a card attached to Peter, one he used to purchase items with that day.

  Remi listened. He tried focusing on the nuances of Peter’s words, not just the words themselves. Were there any telltale signs Peter was keeping something from him? An agenda?

  “Had you spoken with him recently? Before that night?”

  “Mark and I haven’t talked in a long time.” Peter paused. “We were done years ago. I don’t have a return policy.” Peter smiled sadly. “I am sorry for his family or for whoever will miss him. It was a horrible way to die.”

  “If you were done, why would he still have a credit card, still be using that card,” Remi asked.

  Peter looked at Remi. “He never returned it, and I didn’t feel it necessary to make it an issue. Mark needs or needed to feel a level of status. I provided that. He only used it when there was a special occasion, a birthday, and I wanted to give that to him.”

  “Forgive me, but a few hundred for shoes, jewelry—”

  “Are items he wanted. I couldn’t give him what he needed.” So, he let him keep the card because of guilt?

  Remi wondered how much Peter knew of Mark’s murder. Was he aware of the messages left behind, the warnings?

  Remove the root, and the tree will follow. Was Peter the tree, the people murdered, the roots?

  “I’m not going to ask who’s keeping you informed. I’m sure Caleb has something to do with it.” When Peter said nothing, Remi continued, “The messages? Have you heard of them? If you know of the deaths in detail, as I’m sure you do, then you’re aware of the messages as well.”

  “We all have our resources, Remi. Marisol meant the world to me. I, as well as her family, are desperate to find out what happened. Sadly, another person I cared for was murdered. So, yes, I know.”

  “And.”

  “And what,” Peter asked, eyebrow lifted.

  “And, what do you think?”

  “I think there are some very sick people in this world.”

  “Monsters.”

  “Yes.”

  “They’re everywhere.”

  “Indeed, they are.” Peter sipped from his glass again.

  “I think you’re in danger here.”

  “Do you?” Vibrant green eyes watched him, waiting.

  “Yes. The last message mentioned cutting away roots to destroy the tree. We’re thinking it’s referring to a leader, that it’s a threat. Is there any reason why someone might be leaving those messages for you?” At that, Peter’s brow rose.

  “Remi, I have no idea what motivates some to cause harm, others to act foolishly. I can tell you regardless of the intent, I am in no danger. I don’t know why these messages are being left.” His eyes darkened, thunderous and hard as granite. Remi saw a ring of red around the pupil and attributed it to the lighting in the restaurant.

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “I simply can.” Peter grinned, the dark storm giving way to light. “I am selfishly pleased you are worried for me. That you would care enough to ask.”

  “I could say it’s my job.”

  “But, then, we both know it’s so much more than that, don’t we?” Peter reached across the table and took Remi’s hand. It
was the touch he longed for, needed. They looked at each other, and Remi loved the way Peter’s skin felt against his, the rightness.

  “Indeed.”

  Peter sighed, removed his hand and stretched his arms above his head, spreading his upper torso out further. The movement was inviting, and Remi ached for more of him.

  “We’ve sat here long enough. Why don’t we go for a walk, get to know each other?” Waving, Peter signaled the waitress for the check. When Peter settled the bill, he stood.

  Remi tossed a few bills on the table and moved to follow him. It didn’t escape Remi’s attention that Peter’s men moved with them. They didn’t surround them, but they weren’t far, either. Close enough to cause some damage, if necessary.

  “So, your security. That why you’re not afraid of what’s happening around you?”

  “No, Remi, though it helps to deter some who would make the mistake of believing I can’t take care of myself.”

  “Care to explain why you need your own team of Avengers, then?”

  Peter looked up at Remi who staggered trying to sideswipe a mother with a gaggle of young children. “Avengers. Cute. And no. Let’s take that walk. I’m enjoying my time with you.” Peter eased his arm between Remi’s arm and waist, making him shiver. Peter’s grip was surprisingly strong as he tugged him along.

  Chapter Fifteen

  It was a pleasure to walk with Remi, comforting. Peter wanted to spend time with him, find out what made Remi laugh. What made that rumble erupt from his chest shaking his whole frame, then reenact it so he could watch it happen, again and again. He liked Remi, liked the way his eyes caught the light... the way he propelled him to a nearby hobby store in search of a new puzzle?

  “Puzzle?” Peter questioned.

  “Yeah. I like them,” Remi responded before scouring through what seemed to be thousands of jigsaw puzzles sporting images from princesses and dragons to sports cars and garden scenes. He was a big man moving along the aisle, examining each one lucky enough to gain his attention, his fingers turning and sliding along the boxes. Peter was feeling jealous of the puzzle boxes.

  “But, puzzles are for children,” he said grudgingly.

  “No. They help me think, pass the time. Give me a bowl of popcorn, Supernatural, and a new puzzle and I’m set. I have enough to think of at work. Nice to just wind down sometimes”

  “Supernatural?” Peter questioned.

  “It’s a show I’ve started watching. Two brothers chase—”

  “Demons. Yes, I watch it, too.”

  “Do you?” Remi asked. He looked at him closely. “You see, I knew there was a reason I liked you.”

  Peter laughed then shook his head. “Find your damned puzzle so we can pop by Quest Outdoors. There’s a pair of hiking boots I want to try on there. Then, maybe we can check out an episode or two of Supernatural at my place later? Or yours?”

  His arm behind Peter’s back and his hand at his waist, Remi drew him close.

  “I’d like that, Cher. Wouldn’t matter where.” He bent low and kissed Peter on the lips, sneaking out his tongue to lick at the divide. Peter’s wolf wanted more, struggled with Peter to reach out and pull him back, but he held himself in check. Turning back, Remi picked up one, then two boxes and headed off to check out.

  Peter watched that ass swagger to the counter and moaned with appreciation. Remi Devereaux was gorgeous. From the moment Peter arrived at the table, he focused on nothing else other than the tall, dark, and sinfully eye-catching detective.

  Remi made him hum. Little sparks of light spread up and down Peter’s flesh, pulsing with readiness. Both creatures were eager for pursuit. He hadn’t lied when he said he enjoyed his time with Remi and didn’t want to let him go. It was nice just sitting and talking. For the first time in weeks, Peter turned his mind off and just shared.

  Opting to ride with Remi, his men not too far away, he settled into the comfortable seat of Remi’s truck. They’d agreed that a walk through Cherokee Park would be nice, would give them more time to talk before Peter went back to planning and organizing, and Remi to searching for an elusive killer.

  Peter stretched his legs, the hiking books sliding together, the warmth of the truck further calming him as he relaxed and let Remi take over. He reached up and pulled a wayward strand of hair behind his ear.

  “You never stop moving, do you?”

  “What?”

  “Moving. You’re always moving.”

  “Hmm.” What was he supposed to say to that?

  “No harm meant. Just an observation. Are you comfortable?”

  “Well, yes. I was until you pointed out I have a pulse.”

  “Don’t be like that. I just noticed you’re always fidgety. Your hair, your legs. Always moving like my partner Kaden.”

  “Hmm.”

  “Again, with hmms.” Remi’s grin was small, thoughtful. “I like it.”

  “Like what?”

  “The way you move. Kaden always moving drive me nuts, but I could watch you all day and never get bored.”

  Peter smiled.

  The drive was pleasant as they drove toward the park. The curves and bends of the road taking them through beautiful neighborhoods with a collection of various homes, from vast and sprawling to warm and inviting cottages.

  For the first time since he’d met the detective, the creatures living within Peter’s psyche were quiet, eased. They weren’t battling back and forth vying for control. And though the buzzing of energy along his body hadn’t left, it hadn’t increased either. He was calm, at peace, as Remi expertly navigated the curves. It was nice to take in the surrounding landscapes as they traveled—a feeling he didn’t want to give up.

  “You’re quiet.”

  “Yes, I’m enjoying the ride.” And he was. He was enjoying the ride and the man helping to ease the division in his soul.

  They parked on an incline, and Peter slipped out of the truck, landing on the ground easily.

  “Wow. Nice jump there. Thought I would have to come around and help you.”

  “No, not delicate, my knight. Though your arms around me would be most welcome.” Peter leaping from a truck, one as high as Remi’s was not a difficult feat, his creatures lending their strength and agility.

  “Ha. I’d be happy to serve.” Remi came around the truck then, his eyes hot with intent. He opened his arms, and Peter slid into them enjoying the way the muscles wrapped around him. The fit well together.

  Peter decided to just savor the moment, not to question what was happening between him and the detective. Not with the way the warring halves of his soul calmed, a peaceful lake rather than a raging river.

  He wouldn’t question the need flaring inside with every touch, every caress Remi Devereaux gave. How alive he felt from just being in the circle of Remi’s arms. Today he would accept this, enjoy this.

  Still, it would be to both of their advantages if they separated and took that walk they’d spoken of—before he climbed Remi like a tree and sucked his tongue into his mouth. He’d noticed that Remi wasn’t aware of the eyes scanning up and down his body, the way some gazed on with heated interest while others scoured them with hatred.

  Instead, Remi took his hand in his, lifting it to run his teeth over his knuckles.

  “Oh,” Peter said in surprise.

  Gently, Remi kissed away the sting before turning to drag him along with him.

  Well, a man who was into pain? Who was he to deny himself that?

  Remi slowed to a stop, glancing toward the woods around them.

  “What’s wrong,” Peter asked.

  “There’s something following us.” He crouched to see within the brush, the denim stretching across muscular thighs. Remi slid his hand to his back for his weapon, but Peter moved his hand to stop him.

  “Remi, sweetheart. It’s nothing,” Peter encouraged.

  “Nah, baby. There’s definitely something out there. I’m an expert at tell
ing the difference between nothing and something. And, there’s something big out there following us.”

  Peter listened as his wolves eased back.

  “Well, we’ll both keep an eye out then, won’t we? Come on. Let’s enjoy the time we have before we need to leave,” Peter said, reaching for him.

  Remi was hesitant to move, Peter realized, but he pressed forward still noticeably checking the perimeter.

  Peter would have to tell his men to back off further.

  Gradually, Peter and Remi fell back into their rhythm, bodies close as they walked.

  Peter asked, “Well, Detective. Tell me my story. I’d like to know where I need to fill in the blanks.”

  Remi turned to Peter, laughing. “Fill in the blanks?”

  “You’ve checked me out. Share. What do you know?”

  There was a tree next to them, substantial enough for Remi to lean against and concrete enough for him to hold Peter while he did. Drawing him into his arms, he looked down at him, saying nothing at first.

  A man walked by, the dog he held by his leash growling and snapping as it neared them. When Peter looked back to catch its eyes, the dog whimpered and settled down with its tail between its legs.

  Turning back to Remi, Peter said, “Well, don’t keep me in suspense, Remi. Share.”

  “What do I know?” Remi pondered. “Well, besides the fact you attended UofL where you studied photography, I know you lived on the Tolliver compound with the Patriarch, Jeremiah Tolliver. While you are an American citizen, your uncle Kristoff Dumanovsky and probably your parents are from Russia.”

  “Hmm. All that?” Peter moved in further, warm against the detective. He enjoyed the feel of Remi, the pleasure of being next to him. He was happy, and it’d been so long since he’d known what happiness was.

  “Kind of hard to gather much when no one seems to know you or remember what you look like.”

  Peter had Aiden to thank for that. Aiden, a Sandman, had the ability to walk into dreams of humans—as they slept and during their daydreams. Aiden could leave a trace of his energy behind with Peter which left his presence as a distant memory or a dream the individual couldn’t quite grasp unless Peter allowed them to see him.

 

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