Driven To Distraction

by Judith Duncan

  Tony broke apart the filter of a burned-out cigarette, his expression impassive. “They suspected that an old drug operation was gearing up again, and Pete knew all the players. He offered to go back in with the unit. I guess he figured he could finger the kingpins.”

  “But something went wrong.”

  Tony wiped his fingers on his jeans, then began folding the foil from the cigarette package. “Yeah. This slimeball met Pete at a bar. He was a small-time dealer when Pete and I were working together. We’d leaned on him pretty hard a couple of times, and he’d coughed up some key names that led to a major bust. The narcs didn’t know that he’d moved into the big leagues, and no one had tied him to this new operation. I guess when he saw Pete in the bar, negotiating a buy, he went a little nuts. Some of the players in this operation were the same guys that he’d fingered when Pete and I had leaned on him. There’s a big Colombian connection with this new operation, and he knew he’d turn up dead if anyone ever put two and two together.”

  His face like granite, Tony picked some fibers from the shredded filter off his jeans, then rolled them into a ball between his fingers. A muscle in his jaw jerked, and he tossed the bits of rolled-up fiber into the ashtray. There was a flat, bitter edge to his voice when he continued, “So he waited for Pete to leave the bar, then followed him. He cornered him in a back alley and screamed at him for mucking up his life. Then he shot him.”

  The horror made her stomach turn, and Maggie looked away, waiting for the awful feeling to settle in her middle. So violent. So senseless. She could only imagine what this must have done to Tony.

  Knowing they couldn’t stop now, she asked, her voice quiet, “Then what happened?”

  Tony gave another lifeless shrug. “When Pete didn’t check in, they sent a squad car out looking for him. As close as they can figure, he was in that alley for over two hours before they found him.”

  The lack of emotion in his voice wrenched at her, and it was all Maggie could do to keep from going to him. Trying to retain some emotional distance, she looked down and began pleating the fabric lying across her knees. She gave herself a few seconds, then she spoke again. “I take it they notified you right away.”

  Tony shifted in his chair, then exhaled heavily. “Yeah. Pete regained consciousness after the paramedics got him in the ambulance, and he kept asking for me. He knew I’d be able to ID the guy because of the other case.” There was a brief silence, then he added, “Pete died on the operating table. The doctor said with the amount of blood he’d lost, he didn’t know how he’d hung on that long.”

  Feeling the emotional weight of that admission, Maggie looked at him, trying to think of something that could ease his burden just a little.

  Still sitting with one leg cocked across the other, Tony pulled at a loose thread in the stitching around the cuff of his jeans, his expression fixed. “I joined the force because I thought law enforcement could make a difference.” He yanked the thread loose and tossed it into the ashtray, his jaw rigid with anger. “But our system is so screwed up that the victims get nothing, and the civil libertarians go to all lengths to make sure the perps have their rights protected. There’s no damned justice anymore.”

  Maggie looked at him, her expression somber. She understood his anger. She felt pretty much the same way herself. But she sensed the anger was only a cover-up for something that went much deeper. A nervous sensation unfolded in her belly, and.she looked down, her expression even more somber as she smoothed out the wrinkles in the sheet. There was a line she wasn’t sure if she should cross or not. Making her decision, she lifted her head and looked at him. “Don’t start blaming yourself because you weren’t there to cover his back, Tony,” she chided softy. “You came through for him in the end, and that’s what’s important.”

  The muscles in his jaw bunched as he abruptly looked away, and Maggie caught the sheen of moisture in his eyes. Her own chest tight, she reached over and removed the ashtray from his knee, set it on the floor, then grasped his hand. “Come on,” she whispered softly. “Come to bed.” He didn’t respond, and Maggie gave his hand another tug. “I want to hold you.”

  His face haggard with strain, he finally relented, expelling a shaky breath as he came into her arms. Cradling his head on her shoulder, Maggie flipped the comforter over them both, then tightened her arms around him, offering him what solace she could. Tony slid his arms around her and roughly turned his face against her neck, and she closed her eyes against the sudden contraction in her throat. God, he was so cold.

  Pressing her face against his, she began rubbing his back, trying to warm him. If she kept it up long enough, maybe he would drift off to sleep. She released a soft sigh and settled deeper into the warm comfort of the bed. She could spend forever like this. Absolutely forever….

  A low grumble of thunder brought her awake. It took a minute for consciousness to kick in; then she wet her lips, stirring a little against Tony’s weight. Somewhere along the line, they had changed positions as they slept. She was now lying on her side with his body curved around her back, his one arm shoved under the pillow, the other locked around her middle. Feeling coddled, content and drowsy, she let her eyes drift shut as she smoothed her hand down his arm.

  Maggie smiled to herself. She might have known that Tony Parnelli was a cuddler. What she hadn’t known was how unbelievably good it would feel to wake up snuggled in somebody’s arms. She lay there for another moment, savoring the feeling; then she sighed and opened her eyes. Raising her head, she looked at the clock radio on the bedside table. It was 2:17 a.m.

  Maggie dropped her head back to the pillow, staring at the ceiling. As much as she wanted to remain right where she was, she knew in good conscience that she couldn’t. She had a fifteen-year-old daughter she was supposed to be setting a good example for. Bracing herself for separation, she released another sigh, then carefully lifted Tony’s arm away and pushed back the comforter. Now if she could only leave without waking him…

  She turned off the lamp, hoping she wouldn’t disturb him, then used the light from the hallway to collect her clothes. Slipping soundlessly out of the room, she went into the bathroom across the hall to get dressed, wishing with all her heart she didn’t have to go. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him, but she really had no choice. There was Kelly to think about. Reluctance dragging at her, she pulled her cotton sweater down over the waistband of her slacks, then ran her fingers through her hair. Maybe she could find some paper and leave him a note; maybe then she wouldn’t feel like such a traitor. She looked around the bathroom, then realized she had forgotten her shoes.

  Trying to be absolutely silent, she entered the bedroom, then tiptoed around the end of the bed. It blocked the faint light coming from the hallway, and she crouched down, feeling around on the floor for her shoes. She had just located one when Tony spoke, an embittered edge in his voice. “Bailing out again, Burrows?”

  Bracing her hand on the mattress, Maggie swiveled to look at him, his tone stopping her cold. She stared at him, her insides dropping away to nothing. After what she had done to him, she really couldn’t expect him to think anything else. Letting go of her shoe, she sat on the edge of the bed, her touch deliberately soft as she caressed his face. “I’m not bailing out,” she whispered unevenly. But she might as well have been touching a block of wood.

  Feeling very small for hurting him the way she had, she ran her thumb along his jaw, then took a deep, shaky breath, knowing it was up to her to make things right. Gazing down at him, she said, her voice husky with sincerity, “I’d give my right arm to stay here tonight, Tony.” She ran her fingertip across his brow, trying to will away the sting of tears. “But I have to think of Kelly. She’s only fifteen, and I don’t want to set a bad example.”

  Tony stared up at her, the muscles in his jaw set, and for one awful instant, he didn’t say anything. Then he removed her hand and looked away. “Fine,” he said, his tone as flat as the expression in his eyes.

  A
larmed by his mistrust and knowing she deserved every bit of it, Maggie felt the color drain from her face. Realizing she was going to have to set her own self-doubts aside, she tried to bridge the gap between them. “Of course, you could come home with me. I can’t offer you shared accommodations, but I have a great sofa in the living room.”

  He glanced back at her, his gaze intense and unwavering as he considered her.

  Feeling desperately uncertain, she forced a small, wobbly smile and added, “And you’ll have to behave yourself. I don’t want to put any ideas into her head.”

  He considered her words for a moment, then shifted his gaze as he reached up and tucked her hair back. “No,” he said, his voice suddenly gruff. “I’d better not. I don’t want to put any ideas into her head, either.”

  Encouraged by his answer and unwilling to leave him when he was unsure of her, she softly caressed his ear. “Come home with me, Tony,” she pleaded softly. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

  He looked back at her, his expression less guarded. She smiled again. “I’ll make you breakfast.”

  He stared at her a moment, then gave her a lopsided smile. “You will, huh?”

  She leaned down and kissed him. “Yes, I will,” she whispered against his mouth. Grabbing her by the back of the head, he opened his mouth and kissed her back, the moist caress of his tongue making her heart hammer. Clenching her hand into a fist, she tried to catch her breath, a heady weakness coursing through her. As if realizing where they were headed, Tony dragged his mouth away, forcing her head down against his. He held her immobile for a moment, then drew a deep breath. “I think we’d better get the hell off this bed,” he whispered roughly. “Or we’re going to be in big trouble here.”

  Maggie waited until the hot wash of desire dissipated a little, then she eased away, feeling definitely shaky. Tony swept her hair back with both hands and gave her neck a little squeeze. “Can you give me ten minutes?” he said, his voice still a little husky. “I’d like to grab a quick shower first.”

  Relief making her shaky inside, she forced herself to pull away. She managed another wobbly smile. “It’s going to take me ten minutes to get my breath back.”

  He gave a husky laugh and sat up, planting a quick kiss on her nose. “I do like your style, Burrows.” He threw back the blankets and got up, and Maggie closed her eyes, her heart still skittering around in her chest. Tony Parnelli was simply more than she could handle.

  She had the bed made, the ashtray emptied and the living room straightened by the time Tony reappeared. He had on a clean pair of navy blue sweats and a white T-shirt, and he had shaved. His face was still etched with exhaustion, but he had some life back in his eyes.

  Maggie gave him a smile. “Ready to go?”

  He nodded and picked up her coat from the coffee table. He helped her put it on, then ran his hand up the back of her neck, pulling her hair free. “Are you dead sure about this?” he asked, his voice very quiet.

  Adjusting the coat on her shoulders, she turned and faced him. “Yes,” she said, meeting his solemn gaze. “Very sure.”

  He watched her a moment, then turned and picked up a navy windbreaker lying on the end of the sofa. The jacket had a police-department insignia on the shoulder, and Maggie experienced a rush in her middle. Not wanting him to see her reaction, she turned and pushed a cushion back into place on the sofa with her knee. Making sure her face gave nothing away, she turned and watched him shove his arms into the sleeves. He pulled up the collar and did up the bottom snap, then looked at her, his gaze dark and unreadable.

  Needing to touch him, she ran the back of her fingers down his cleanly shaven cheek. “Nice,” she said, smiling into his eyes.

  He closed his eyes and grasped her shoulders, resting his forehead against hers. Finally he inhaled unevenly and released her. “We’d better go.”

  He waited for her to precede him, then shut off the lamp with the switch by the archway.

  Maggie shoved her hands in her pockets and closed them into fists. She had a feeling it was going to be a long walk home.

  And it was. By the time they reached her front door, she was so wound up inside that she was having trouble breathing. As if sensing the tension in her, Tony took the key from her hand and unlocked the inside door, pushing it open so she could enter. Kelly had left a light on in the front entrance, and Maggie felt as if the brightness was stripping her skin off. Certain she would unravel completely if she so much as looked at him, she kicked off her damp shoes. She heard the click as he closed the door and set the dead bolt; then she heard him toss the keys onto the entranceway table.

  Maggie stripped off her coat and hung it in the closet, then closed her eyes and tried to force a deep breath into her lungs. She wanted to feel him against her so badly she could hardly stand it. Tony hung his jacket alongside hers, then caught her arm. Turning her to face him, he pulled her close, then enfolded her in a tight, protective embrace. “I know, babe,” he whispered roughly. “I know.”

  He kissed her ear, then forced her head against his neck. Slipping her arms around him, Maggie expelled a shaky breath and flattened her hands against his back. Never in her life had she experienced such an overwhelming need to be held. Clutching him tighter, she turned her face into the curve of his neck, absorbing the clean, rain-damp scent of him, trying to regulate her breathing. Tucking his face against hers, Tony massaged the small of her back, holding her even tighter, his own breathing uneven. He smoothed his hands across her hips, then spoke, his voice low and strained. “Maybe it’d be a good idea if I cleared outta here.”

  Tightening her hold, she shook her head.

  He wrapped both his arms around her, hugging her hard. “I won’t let anything happen here, Mag,” he said, his voice husky with assurance.

  Maggie closed her eyes, trying to regain her equilibrium. She didn’t want anything to happen here. Well, that wasn’t quite true, but it would be enough if she could just hold him. One thing was for sure—she couldn’t bear to let him go.

  Tony turned his head and pressed his mouth against her neck, giving her another tight, oddly communicative squeeze. He held her like that until the surge of need eased, until she could relax her hold just a little. Then he smoothed his hand down the full length of her spine, his firm touch sending a fuzzy weakness through the lower half of her body. Looping his arms around her hips, he rubbed his jaw against her temple, then said, a touch of amusement in his tone, “I gotta tell you, you cook up one hell of a breakfast, Burrows.”

  Maggie let out her breath with a shaky laugh and hugged him back. “Maybe we’d better move to the kitchen.”

  Rubbing both hands down her buttocks, he kissed the sensitive spot below her ear, then released a heavy sigh. Sliding one hand down her arm, he laced his fingers through hers, then turned toward the front room. “Later,” was all he said, his voice gruff.

  Skirting the large coffee table, he led her over to the sofa, then tossed all the loose cushions except one onto the floor; that one he propped against the arm. Then he stretched out, pulling her down with him. Snuggling into a comfortable position, he drew her head onto his shoulder and wedged one knee between her legs. Nestling her deeper into his embrace, he cupped her face, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pressed a soft kiss against her forehead. “I don’t want breakfast,” he said gruffly. “I just want to hold you.”

  Closing her eyes on a swell of emotion, Maggie tucked her face under his jaw and slid her arm under the small of his back, turning deeper into his embrace. She wished she could climb right inside his body.

  Tony brushed back her hair and sighed. “God, this feels good,” he whispered unevenly.

  Unable to answer him because of the sudden aching tenderness in her heart, Maggie tightened her arm around him, holding him closer. Dear Lord, this wasn’t good. This was heaven.

  The sound of a distant alarm clock brought Maggie out of a deep sleep, but it was the feel of a hard male body against her, of strong arms
wrapped snugly around her that brought her fully awake. And it was the sound of the alarm being shut off that made her eyes snap open. Kelly. Six-o’clock swim. Mother all tangled up on the sofa with a man. Great! Great way to set an example, Mary Margaret! She closed her eyes, silently chastising herself. What would Kelly have thought if she’d walked in here and seen them?

  That her mother had finally got a life, a tiny voice rebutted.

  Maggie smiled. Kelly was nobody’s fool.

  Shifting her head on Tony’s shoulder, she stared into space, unwilling to leave the secure warmth of his arms. This was the nicest of all possible ways to wake up. Warm. Surrounded by another person’s heat. Feeling physically connected to another human being. There was only one flaw: the arm she was lying on was numb from her shoulder to her fingertips.

  She heard the shower come on downstairs, but stayed right where she was. Ten more minutes. As soon as she heard the shower shut off, she’d get up. She wanted just a few more moments to savor waking up like this.

  Tony sighed and stirred, slowly shifting one leg. Then he tightened his arm around her back, smoothing his hand— which she finally realized was underneath her sweater—up her rib cage to cup her naked breast. Maggie went dead still, her breath jamming up in her chest. It struck her that Tony Parnelli was just as dangerous asleep as he was fully awake. Closing her eyes and forcing herself to take deep breaths, she gave herself a moment to settle down, then started to ease away. He stirred again and tightened his hold.

  Using the back of the sofa as a brace, she looked down at him, a small smile on her face. He did look adorable first thing in the morning. She watched him sleep for a minute, then tried again to extricate herself, but his only response was to turn his head and settle into a deeper sleep.

  She gave his shoulder a little shake. “Tony?”

  He rubbed his thumb along the swell of her breast, that one light touch nearly sending her through the roof. She gave his shoulder another little push and he turned his face toward her, but his eyelids remained closed. “Hmm?”