My Sister's Murderer

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My Sister's Murderer Page 10

by Liv Bennett


  “Very clearly.” It’s a pleasure to see the dirty bastard about to piss in his pants with fear.

  Done with Max, Austin flicks his eyes to me. “She’s taking the day off. You’ll work at the front desk in her place, but she’ll still get the full day’s pay.”

  “No problem.” Max’s obedient words come out fast and eagerly.

  Austin walks toward me and holds my hand as he guides me out. I feel my chest exploding from the raw emotions running rampant inside me; relief, gratitude, curiosity, satisfaction and a twinge of sympathy for Fran.

  I’m still shivering from cold and the shock. Austin helps me put on my coat and hands me my purse.

  “How did you have access to his computer? How did you know about the surveillance cameras?” I pause, realizing no one ever told me anything about the owner. “Do you own the restaurant?”

  A faint shadow crosses his face. “No. It belongs to my father, and he lets me run it along with a few other businesses.”

  I want to ask why he never mentioned it before, but more than anything I want to get away from here…at least, until I can sort out my emotions.

  On our way out, I spot Erin running food for a table with a family.

  I wait until she serves the plates before approaching her. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for earlier.” For practically saving me from getting raped.

  She gives me a blank glance and shrugs it off like it wasn’t a big deal. It was a big deal, and I know she knows what was going on in Max’s office. I’m too ashamed to put it in words, and she’s kind enough to get past it. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

  I nod, smiling for the first time after the shock of the incident. “Thanks again. I owe you big time.”

  I turn to Lena who’s picking up beer from the bar to say bye to her too. An eyebrow raised, eyes flicking between Austin and me, she gives me a half-hearted wave of her hand.

  Ch 12

  A Sizzling Ride

  We take my car, and I drive. I need to focus on something other than my inability to defend myself against Max. The traffic on Broadway is horrible. Too many traffic lights and too many cars. I want to keep my foot on the gas pedal and just drive.

  “Are there any empty roads around here without traffic lights every other mile?” I ask and see Austin smile.

  “Drive east until 95th then turn left. It’s my favorite drive when I need to clear my head.”

  Just what I need. The drive till 95th is hell, but once we turn north, the traffic lights are few and far between, and the speed limit is my sweet spot, fifty-five mph. I roll down the windows and let the afternoon breeze brush my skin.

  Austin doesn’t ask me if I want to talk about it. He doesn’t even bother with small talk. He just turns up his music library and starts Feels with Will Ferrell and Katy Perry, the perfect tune for a ride to escape the harshness of the world.

  The next is Despacito. I know enough Spanish to guess the lyrics are sexual. I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile, but he doesn’t miss the blush on my face. Then comes Whenever Wherever and Getting Hot In Here. When Sexy Back starts, I can’t hold back my laughter anymore. He needs it bad.

  “What?” He asks, feigning a clueless tone but his own chuckle gives him away.

  “Let me guess the next song; Naughty girl?”

  “How did you know?” It takes maybe half a minute, but he finds the song and cranks up the volume. I never thought I could bring myself to smile after such a trying day, but here I am, laughing and enjoying a drive with a wonderful man.

  Whenever I glance at him, his eyes are on me, staring, admiring, taking me in. His gaze turns serious at moments, but still with awe.

  My worries from the previous day come back to me. How much I longed for a moment like this with him. I was giving up hope by the end of the day. He brought up every abandonment issue I ever had. Missing him made my yesterday infinitely worse, and having him beside me now after a traumatic experience is soothing.

  I drive for miles, and we end up by a lake thirty miles north of Boulder. When I turn off the engine and look at him, I catch him with the smile of a mischievous boy.

  “What is it?” I ask, unbuckling my belt.

  “So, I pursued you shamelessly, huh?” he says, his voice, low, deep, and tempting.

  Oh, he’s thinking about my hot-coffee attack in the middle of his date. “Some might even call your pursuit creepy,” I bite and sink my teeth into my lip to restrain a smile.

  He chuckles, his pearly whites on display. “And, I made you like me. What a jerk!”

  My cheeks burn with mortification. I even told him fuck you in the midst of my breakdown. “I’m sorry I called you a jerk.”

  His fists are in a ball, I guess, so he can restrain himself from reaching out to me. He’s probably trying to give me space, while all I want is his touch. It makes me forget. It helps me heal. I reach for him, my hand brazenly on his forearm, fingers wandering over the fabric of his sweater moving upward toward his bicep.

  His chuckle becomes a contented smile, his eyes on my lips, daring me, inviting me. “Don’t be sorry. I actually am a jerk. A certified one.”

  I arch my eyebrows while closing the distance between us over the center console. “Why?” I ask, my tone seductive without my control.

  “I did it to many girls; dated them, fucked them, and never called back.”

  I should recede and ask for confirmation that he won’t repeat it with me, but there’s something about how he said fuck that draws me to him like a bee to a flower. My lips are an inch from his, his breath warm on my skin.

  “You’re the only one who called me out on my shit,” he admits, not closing the distance, maybe out of guilt; maybe he’s just enjoying my pursuit of him.

  “That’s not entirely true.” I avert my gaze, both ashamed of and aroused by what I’m going to say. “You didn’t fuck me.”

  He takes a sharp breath of air. “That can easily be fixed.”

  His hand comes around my neck, fingers possessive in their hold, and he yanks me to him, his lips smashing against mine, tongues lapping at each other with the desire of lovers after a long break.

  I want more of him, his lips, his hands. I move over the console without breaking our kiss, the dancing of our lips. His hands glide down to my waist and effortlessly place me on his lap, my legs straddling him.

  It’s an intimate position, confrontational, revealing. I feel his hardness beneath his jeans, thick and long, pressing against my crotch, covered by only a pair of flimsy white panties.

  The hem of my dress is rolled up past my mid-thigh. If he pushes it an inch higher, even accidentally, he’ll see my panties and how wet they are. Air catches in my throat. I do my best to keep my hips away, to avoid losing control and crossing the point of no return.

  His hands are sliding up and down the sides of my body, slowly, with intent, as if he’s familiarizing himself with my curves. He could have easily placed them on my ass and rubbed my pussy along his erection. That’d tip us both over toward the inevitable.

  His lips loosen their tight hold on mine, as he smiles down at me. “I know you can’t keep your hands off me, but didn’t you want to see the lake?”

  I laugh, moving my face down to the crook his neck. There I stay, relaxing into his hold, and he circles his arms around my back, just embracing me. My mind at ease, I watch the lake, the shimmering sunlight on its surface, the geese gliding, a pair of dogs running.

  “Did something else happen today?” Austin asks, yanking me out of my peaceful state. “Something with Max?”

  My heart leaps to my throat. My muscles tighten, but I work hard to keep my position in his arms. “What do you mean?”

  “Did he…” In search of the right wording, he pauses, and I hear him swallow. “Did he do something to you?”

  “No.” Technically, it’s not a lie. “Why?”

  “He has this stare. A girlfriend of mine brought it to my attention. She said it bothered her how he stared at
her. I talked to him about it. He said he never received a complaint about it. He believes girls like it, that it makes them feel desirable…wanted.”

  Disgusted and objectified would describe better how I felt under his incessant gaze.

  “I think it’s a mental illness,” he adds. “He can’t read behavior, subtle or otherwise. I told him to cut it out. I warned him if any employee comes forward with any complaints, significant or insignificant, he’d be out the door. So, if he did or said something to you that would make you uncomfortable, I’d like to hear about it.”

  I should speak out and come clean about being a minute away from getting raped. That’d be the right thing to do, and my openness would protect the other employees in the restaurant. I almost open my mouth. I close it right back up for my sister’s sake.

  Max can very well be the reason for my sister’s desire to end her life. If he cornered her, threatened her, abused her, that trauma could have easily caused permanent damage to a young, innocent girl’s mind. If Max was behind my sister’s suicide, then I’m about to discover it. I just need to keep him close, where I can watch him.

  I feel literal, physical pain when I say, “I didn’t notice anything unusual about his stare.”

  My stomach revolts at protecting Max and hiding something from Austin, who has been nothing but kind to me since day one.

  “Good.” He exhales, as if with relief. The talk must have been as tough for him as it was for me. “It’s almost three. I promised my father I’d drive him to the airport for his trip.”

  I jolt up in his lap and start to move to the driver’s seat. His hands stop me, gripping my waist. With a heavy stare, he moves his face close to mine, his lips brushing mine, parting them for another kiss. His desire is palpable in his moan, the possessive hold of his hands on my hips, in his quickly deepening kiss.

  When he pulls back, his gaze is thick with disappointment, almost sad. “Shall we?”

  I smile and kiss him one last time on the corner of his lips. My peck brings back his smile. On the drive back, he finds more sensual songs, hinting to me the short time I have before ending up in his bed. I have a feeling he won’t be as patient as he was with me today in our next heated session. I won’t be able to say no. Hell, I won’t be able to stop myself from jumping him.

  But… He’s admittedly a playboy.

  I did it to many girls, dated them, fucked them, and never called back.

  I may end up on the list of girls he fucked and never called back. I’m already in too deep with him, already walking a fine line between stability and insanity. If he breaks it off once he gets his sexual appetite filled, that may be the end of me.

  Ch 13

  Mommy, Are You Crying?

  I drop off Austin at the parking lot of the coffee shop where I yelled at him in the middle of his date with another woman. Not before registering our phone numbers on our phones, though. He personally fishes my phone out of my purse and enters his phone number under the name MKISA.

  I frown when I catch a glimpse of what seems to be an acronym. “What does it mean?”

  “My Knight in Shining Armor,” he says with a wink.

  He really is, and I’m falling even faster for him. Soon, I’ll be past the point of no return. His name will be tattooed on my heart.

  I give him a shake of my head along with an earnest don’t play with my heart look. He doesn’t seem to take notice of my gesture and reaches over to steal one last kiss from me before leaving my car.

  I watch him get in his car and drive off. Without him, the heaviness of the day weighs me down. My gloomy mood returns. Not having any plans for the evening, I consider going back to work. Max’s face appears before my eyes. Thinking of his rapacious gaze on my chest immediately changes my mind. I don’t know about tomorrow, but today, I can’t bear the sight of him. I really need the day off to regain my mental strength.

  I head to my hotel, my stomach growling. A peanut-butter sandwich and a banana are all I have for dinner if the Greek yogurt has already expired.

  Pulling up close to the entrance into one of the few slots available in the hotel parking lot, I turn off the engine and stretch in my seat.

  Climbing out of my car, I take a quick look at the parking lot that’s nearly completely full. Although the hotel isn’t an affordable one, it seems the lack of guests isn’t one of their problems.

  Living in this hotel didn’t bring me anything in terms of the investigation of my sister’s death. I could have easily stayed in an Airbnb room for at least half the price of the hotel room.

  My phone beeps as I walk toward the hotel entrance.

  Just checking in to say I enjoyed our lake visit.

  Austin’s text puts a smile on my face without my control. My mind lost in thoughts of him, I walk into the hotel lobby and come to a sudden halt when I see Fran sitting in the seating area. With a little girl in her lap.

  She stands when she sees me, helping the little girl down to her feet.

  I hesitate as to whether I should just run to the elevators to escape her or give her the chance to talk that she clearly wants. My paralyzed body makes the decision for me. She approaches me in slow steps to adjust to the little girl’s speed. When they’re only a few feet away, I notice the intense similarity between Fran and the child.

  “Hi,” Fran says, her voice hoarse, her eyes red, her glance fearful, apologetic, and shy. She clears her throat, waiting for a reaction from me.

  My eyes fall on the beautiful face of the little girl beside her. I can’t help but smile at her. She’s lovely and shows me her teddy bear in her hand.

  “I…I came to apologize.” Fran’s lips tremble, and her voice cracks. “I know what I did was horrible, especially because you’ve been nothing but kind and friendly to me. You didn’t deserve it.”

  “I definitely didn’t.” I remember the shockingly disturbing feeling of being robbed, then being accused of thievery. Strangely enough, the feeling of guilt apparent on her face, a sign that she’s been going through her own version of hell, helps me.

  “I came here to explain. I don’t know if it’ll make it any better, but I was only trying to protect my daughter.” Fran presses her lips together tightly, trying to keep the sobs bottled up.

  “Your daughter?”

  She nods. Her jaw is still trembling with every word when she says, “Emma. She’s two.”

  With a long exhale, she licks her lips. “We’ve been having a hard time lately. We’ve always had it difficult, but this time is worse. She was hospitalized for pneumonia the first week we moved to Boulder, and I missed the rent payment to be able to pay the deductible for the hospital stay. The landlord threatened to start the eviction process if I didn’t pay the full rent by today. I was desperate. When I saw you with cash last night, I didn’t think. I just acted. I couldn’t sleep all night, worried you’d call the police on me; they’d burst into the apartment in the middle of the night, put me in jail, and take my daughter away from me. I had to come up with a way to stop you from coming after me. That’s why I went to Max and lied.”

  Tears flowing down her cheeks, she opens her purse with her free hand, digging out papers. “I know you may think I’m lying. I wouldn’t trust me either after what I did; but, here, you can see the hospital bill and the letters from my landlord.”

  Already believing her, I take the papers and scan them half-heartedly. “I’m sorry you’re going through hard times. If only you’d told me, I’d have given you my entire earning for the night.”

  “Yeah, I should have done that. It’s just…people haven’t been kind to me. My parents disowned me when they found out about my pregnancy. I stayed with my aunt, who would always remind me of her big favor to me. Emma’s father lives overseas, and doesn’t really care about us. I guess I just became jaded.”

  “Were you able to pay the rent?”

  “Yeah, I had to borrow from a friend. I just need to find another job, like tomorrow, so that I can pay her back and afford
this month’s rent.”

  “I’ll talk to Max tomorrow and try to get your job back.” I’d never have imagined those words would come out of my mouth after today’s ordeal, but it feels right to offer her help. She made a stupid mistake out of desperation and fear of losing her child. Even Max got to keep his job although his actions were purely malicious.

  “Thank you.” She ducks her head down to her chest and cries silently.

  “Mommy, are you crying?” Emma asks with a voice sweeter than that of angels’.

  Fran wipes her tears quickly, lifts Emma to her chest and kisses her on the cheek, smiling. “No, baby, I’m not crying. I’m happy.”

  A large group of guests suddenly fill up the entrance hall, not leaving us much room to move. “Did you guys have dinner?”

  “No, we didn’t. I just picked her up from her daycare.”

  “Would you like to come join me in my room? We can order something from room service if you want, my treat,” I offer.

  She shakes her head, frowning. “That would be very expensive. I’m making spaghetti and meatballs for dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

  I jump at the opportunity to see where my sister lived. “That’d be lovely.”

  “We just need to stop by her daycare to pick up something I forgot. Why don’t I give you our address, and we’ll meet there in an hour?” She tells me the address, I find it on Google maps, and pin it under her name. We say our goodbyes while her daughter waves at me with her teddy bear in her hand.

  I feel infinitely lighter, relieved of a heavy burden that was crushing me. Things are falling into place, and I’m back on track with my investigation of my sister’s death.

  I go up to my room to trade my jacket for a coat and notice the cardigan I got from Austin is still hanging in my closet. I need to return it to him before my mind turns crazy with speculation, but before anything else, I need to get Fran her job back.

 

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