Blame It on the Moon

Home > Other > Blame It on the Moon > Page 16
Blame It on the Moon Page 16

by Shara Lanel


  Then she remembered something she needed to tell Haden. “Um, so we’re meeting someone.”

  But Haden had seen his parents through the window. The picture was crystal clear in his mind, and therefore, in hers.

  He gripped her shoulders. “Kitty, what did you do? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Other things on my mind.” Too many things as usual. She sighed. No room for herself, her needs and desires, not even her own memories. Someday she needed to address that issue.

  Haden’s hand on her shoulder distracted her. “You know my dad could very well make a huge scene in there?”

  “Be brave, and I’ll try to remember to call you Aidan.”

  He looked perplexed, then spit out a laugh. “Yeah, you do that.”

  The warm glow spread in her gut, but even that was cut short as they entered the diner, and the zoo of thoughts accosted her. Not caring how deranged she looked, she took the time to stare at each patron and arrow in on their specific thoughts. Everyone knew Haden either personally or by reputation, and they all had opinions on whether he should’ve been let out on bail. A few folks dared to greet him with a nod or curt wave. He responded in kind, his lips clamped in a firm line. It had to feel like walking a gauntlet, and Kitty ached for him, but she also knew it had to be done. He couldn’t run this time, not if they were to have any future. And even though the timeline wasn’t of his making, he’d obviously planned to stop running when he’d moved to Richmond. It didn’t make sense to come back to Virginia otherwise.

  Kitty greeted Haden’s parents, then immediately excused herself to go to the bathroom. The hall led to the kitchen, so she waited to catch Linda.

  “Hi, remember me?”

  “Yeah, do you need something?” The waitress’s clipped tone and guarded eyes caught Kitty off guard. She’d seemed friendlier earlier.

  Well, no beating around the bush, then. “I was hoping we could talk about the town gossip. I’m guessing you hear a lot of it.”

  “And right now, you’re the one I’m hearing about the most. Look, I don’t have time to talk.” She pushed past Kitty, leaving behind a trail of thoughts. What gall to think I’d help her when her boyfriend’s a murderer! I’ve got my own life; I don’t need to get involved in anyone else’s. She should get her ass back to the city. Does she think he’s innocent?

  Damn, that had not been fruitful. Daniel, still in uniform, stood near Haden’s table, chatting. His seemingly casual actions told onlookers to give Haden the benefit of the doubt. A brave move for someone in his position. Kitty admired him for it, and she could tell Haden did too.

  Kit paused near the jukebox, picking up on someone’s memories. Leslie was such a slut, and he didn’t even know it. Or did he? Maybe that’s why he murdered her. She was a damn good kisser, though. The man’s memory of those kisses in the boys’ locker room now had the rosy fog of time covering them. He sat slouched over a cup of coffee at a table across the room from Haden and his parents. His stringy hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he wore a Nirvana T-shirt and two hoop earrings.

  Haden’s eyes pinned Kitty, and as she wound her way back to her seat, his thoughts willed her to get back to the table to provide a buffer. Daniel had moved off to chat with other folks. Kit returned his greeting as she sat down and opened the menu.

  “What’s good here?” she asked his parents, hoping her voice sounded casual and friendly. Haden’s father scowled.

  “The hash is good,” Mrs. Blackthorne said.

  Kitty pursed her lips. Hash was not her thing. Maybe a juicy hamburger. Suddenly the memory of the steak Haden had cooked for her on their first date popped into her mind, and with that she recalled the sizzling desire she’d felt, the erotic images that Haden had had playing in his head. She crossed her legs and cleared her throat. She couldn’t think about that with his parents sitting right here.

  “This place is hopping, isn’t it?” she remarked as two more folks walked through the door.

  “There’s an Italian place up the road, and the pizza place delivers, but otherwise there’s not much choice,” Haden explained. His fingers tapped the plastic menu. They stilled when he looked at Kit, but whenever he looked at his father, they’d tap a drum solo.

  “Should’ve opened your pub here.”

  “Somehow I doubt that would’ve gone over well.”

  Anger and violation kicked Kitty in the gut. Her gaze flew to the door. A woman with red-rimmed eyes and puffy lips stood there, glaring fire at Haden’s back. Oh, Lord. Leslie’s mom. Mrs. Blackthorne’s thoughts identified her, as did the accusations in Mrs. Sheffington’s mind. Haden’s nostrils flared as every diner stilled. He identified her in his mind without even turning around. Why did I let Kitty talk me into this? He stared at Kitty’s face as she watched the distraught woman approach. Haden turned. Better to face the threat than keep his back to it.

  Or not.

  “How dare you!” Mrs. Sheffington slapped Haden, the sound echoing in the silent restaurant. A red handprint stained his cheek, and Kitty wanted to cry at the memories she read from the woman’s mind. Leslie at birth, small and wrinkly, her first tooth, her first day of kindergarten. She remembered the day she’d first said “Mama” and her first scraped knee. She thought of how gorgeous her little girl had looked in her prom dress and how studious she’d looked in her cap and gown. Memories too painful to stay with, but Kitty had no choice. Mrs. Sheffington’s powerful emotions overrode everyone else.

  Ignoring her smudged eyeliner, she pointed, her hand shaking. “You should be dead by now, injected, electrocuted, whatever. How dare you run! You should have taken your punishment like a man, you coward! And how dare you come back here to rake this all up again! How dare you!”

  Haden wore a stony mask, but he was crying inside, in almost as much pain as Leslie’s mother. He had memories of this woman chatting with him as he waited for her daughter, memories of her taking pictures before prom, of her asking him when he was going to pop the question. The grief bubbled over, and Kitty found herself sobbing. She hoped everyone ignored her, because she had no right to cry here. She’d never met Leslie. She was the interloper.

  Linda set a glass of water in front of her, and Kitty gratefully sipped to wash away the tightness in her throat.

  Three more folks entered the restaurant, largely ignored with the high drama of the victim’s mother confronting the murderer. Thing was, Mrs. Blackthorne noticed the newcomers. Ricky…

  Kitty looked up. It was the mayor, his son, and a woman, presumably his wife. The mayor had spotted Mrs. Blackthorne, met her eyes. Mrs. Langtree followed her husband’s gaze and flinched when she saw Mrs. Blackthorne. The two women locked stares, like a duel. He’s mine. I’ve taken care of him all his life. I’m the only mother he’s ever known. Kitty wasn’t sure which woman the thought came from, so she wasn’t sure to whom it referred. What did it mean, though?

  Haden stood abruptly, stepping into Mrs. Sheffington’s pointed finger and slamming his chair back. “I’m leaving. I have no wish to give you more pain.”

  As he said this, he marched toward the front door, all eyes on him. He drew the attention of the mayor’s son, and Kitty suddenly felt the cold and familiar hate, a very different kind of emotion than Mrs. Sheffington’s grief and rage. The red haze clouded the young man’s vision as he glared at Haden, who swung open the door and stalked down the sidewalk.

  Damn, where the hell was Haden going? If she didn’t catch him, she had no doubt he’d hitch his way back to Richmond. But now she knew who’d been watching him when he’d been arrested. Maybe she could learn more.

  Oh, screw detecting. Haden needed her now. She dashed through the restaurant, escaping the seething emotions for the calm night.

  * * * * *

  “Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Haden mumbled, pacing in front of Kitty’s motel room. The second he spotted her coming around the corner, he stretched out his hand. “Give me the fucking keys. I’ll drive. We’re going back to Richmond. Now.�


  Kitty paused about five feet away, out of reach, keys nowhere in sight. She crossed her arms and tapped her foot.

  “Give me the goddamn keys!”

  “Nope.”

  “Fine. I’ll find another way back.” He couldn’t call one of his employees because it would take them forever to get here. He wanted to leave this second, and he couldn’t even rent a car at this time of night in this town. Shit. He’d take the keys by force if he had to, and the woman wouldn’t be able to stop him. She didn’t know whom she was dealing with.

  For the first time in his life he was longing for the full moon, for the uncontrollable change, for the chance to run unshackled into the mountains and howl away his pain.

  He sat down on the stoop and put his head in his hands.

  She approached tentatively, sat down next to him, and put her arm over his shoulders.

  He wouldn’t cry. He hadn’t in all these years, not for Leslie, not for the injustice he’d suffered or the life he’d lost.

  Then why were his fucking cheeks damp?

  She hugged him tight, not backing away, not shaming him. He smelled her concern, her heartache. She understood his pain, and she just wanted to be there for him. A precious gift.

  After a while, she helped him stand, not that he needed help, and led him into the motel room. She held him without question or platitudes. He ached for Leslie’s parents, and he understood why they hated him, but the loss of their love killed him. They’d loved him like a son, waiting for the day he’d ask Leslie to marry him.

  Except that he never could ask her…because of the wolf. She hadn’t known his secret, and he’d been afraid to tell her.

  Kitty pulled him back from the edge of the memories with sweet kisses along his brow and cheeks. She ran her thumb along his outer ear and down his jaw. He listened to her easy breathing, her steady heartbeat. She smoothed her palms down the length of his chest, calm, slow movements, everything she did designed to soothe. And it worked at first, making him feel drowsy and sedated, but as she continued her long, relaxed strokes, a new awareness eased to the fore.

  “God, you smell so good, like greasy French fries.” He tugged her hips closer and sniffed along her neck and ear.

  “Um, thanks?”

  He nipped along the same path. “You taste good, too.”

  “Like French fries?”

  “Hmm, saltier, sweeter.”

  She shivered.

  She brought one of her legs over his thighs, straddling him as she put her arms around his neck. Her glossy lips reflected the room’s low light. He leaned in for a taste. She replied by tracing along his top lip with the tip of her tongue. Haden held his breath as she did the same to his bottom lip. Then she smiled.

  “Like that?”

  “Kind of tickled.” But his husky voice betrayed the state she’d left his body in. “Stick out your tongue.”

  She did, eyebrows high in question. He opened his mouth and captured her protruding tongue with his teeth. He sucked it until their lips met, palming the back of her head to keep her close. The kiss deepened, became multilayered, with tongues dancing, lips pressing, teeth scraping. The gentleness disappeared, replaced by urgency, a perfect outlet for his emotions.

  But he didn’t want to hurt her. She must’ve sensed him backing off or read his thoughts, because she said, “I can take it, Haden. You don’t have to be gentle.”

  He growled.

  And with that the barriers came down. Clothes flew, littering the floor and furniture. He wasn’t sure whose hands had removed what, and he didn’t care. The poly-blend comforter and blanket followed. The top sheet stayed in place, and they’d never opened the curtains, thank God. Haden paused for a moment to listen to the room beyond. Silence. Good. Less chance of a noise disturbance report.

  He planned to fuck Kitty until she screamed.

  He ran his hand down her naked thigh, and the skin heated from the friction. He kissed her ankles, her shins, her knees as she held perfectly still. Was she reading his thoughts? They were a confused mess, even to him, but his lust grew, helping to dull his pain. He’d bury himself in Kitty, forget everything else.

  He shimmied along Kitty’s supple skin until he could see her eyes. “Spread your legs,” he whispered. “I’m going to fuck you…hard.”

  Miraculously, she obeyed, though her eyes were wide. He positioned himself between her thighs, circled his hips until his cock nudged her wet hole; then he pushed inside of her to the hilt. She whimpered, and her eyes rolled up.

  “God, you’re so wet, so tight.”

  Her thighs clutched him, her fingers raking along his back, nails digging in. Though it hurt just a bit, it also excited him. He found his rhythm, in and out, and felt her body give more and more, welcoming him, surrounding him in lush hot flesh. Then she’d tighten her muscles, squeezing his cock, forcing him to go slower, to savor every inch of his retreat. He moaned.

  She responded to a particularly hard thrust by biting his neck. He relished the physical pain. She met him thrust for thrust and worked her hand between them so she could massage her clit as he closed in on his climax. His heart hurt, his soul hurt. He couldn’t stand to feel the pain, so he listened to Kitty’s moans and tried to make it go away.

  It was only after he’d come inside her that he realized he hadn’t used a condom.

  * * * * *

  Haden drowsed, warm and comfortable, next to her, so Kitty hated to bring up the scene in the diner, but she thought she’d learned something vital. “Haden, do you know the mayor’s son?”

  “Vaguely.” He pried his eyes open and tucked his arm under one of the pillows. “What’s his name? Richie Rich…”

  “His name is Richie Rich?”

  “No, that’s what we called him. He’s Richard the Third. He was in middle school when we were seniors, but at the time middle and high school were in the same building. He was a nerd who followed us around a lot.” He yawned and closed his eyes again.

  “Did you do more than call him names?”

  “Nah, and I don’t even think we called him Richie Rich to his face. We weren’t like that, but he was kind of a pest, and we were always afraid he’d tattle to his dad, like when we had beer and pot at parties. What on earth made you bring him up?” He opened his eyes again, barely.

  “Did you see him at the diner when you left?”

  He shook his head, face grim. “No.” And she knew he was reliving the scene with Leslie’s mom.

  Kitty took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. How to explain this? “I think he hates you. I mean, really hates you, and he was watching you when you were arrested in Richmond.”

  “What?” That shocked him. “You saw him?”

  She shook her head. “No, I saw through him. He was watching you, and I felt…hatred.”

  Haden paused. He’d had the sense of being watched a couple of times when he’d left the pub, and there’d been that smell he couldn’t put his finger on. “But it doesn’t make sense for him to hate me that much. I barely know him, and I’m sure Leslie would’ve had the same amount of experience with him.”

  Kitty rubbed her thumb on Haden’s chest, liking the fact that they were lying next to each other, naked. “Well, he’s someone we need to talk to. Just getting close to him for a bit longer may allow me to get a better read on him. Maybe he killed Leslie.”

  Whoa, she shouldn’t have said that, because Haden immediately pictured ripping the other man to shreds. She smoothed the lines of anger from his brow. “Remember, we need to prove he did it, if he did, and hand him over to the cops so you can go free. Tearing him apart will not help your case any.”

  Haden’s eyes narrowed, then he laughed self-consciously. “This gift of yours takes some getting used to.”

  “And what I like about you is that you seem willing to get used to it.”

  But then, she was of use to him right now. Would he feel the same once they caught Leslie’s murderer?

  * * * * *

&n
bsp; “Damn it to hell! He took my fucking car!”

  “Do you want to file a police report?” Daniel asked, carefully covering up his smirk with a file from his desk.

  “No, but I need a ride back to Richmond.” Kitty could not believe the man she’d comforted last night had stolen her keys and left town while she’d slept. He’d left a note, something asinine about having a business to run so she knew where he’d gone, but still… “Fucking asshole!”

  “Probably shouldn’t be calling the sheriff that, ma’am,” one of the deputies commented, obviously not following the conversation very closely.

  “It’s okay, Mac. She’s just a little vexed, and not at me luckily.” Daniel took Kitty’s elbow and directed her toward the door. “Cover for me, though. I need to give this lady a ride home, so I’ll be gone for a few hours.” Once they were outside, he directed her to a black SUV with the blue strobe on the dash. “Doubt we’ll have a lick of crime while I’m gone, since Aidan provided the most excitement that we’ve had for months.”

  “Maybe you should try working in Richmond for a while.”

  “A bit too much excitement there.” He held the door open for Kitty. She slipped in and fastened her seatbelt.

  “I thought I’d convinced him to stay and investigate. He could’ve at least told me he was leaving.” She sighed.

  “Could’ve found another car.”

  “That too.”

  * * * * *

  The sheriff had dropped Kitty off at home by early afternoon. She greeted Fergie, showered and changed, then felt totally guilty leaving her poor dog again to head into work. She peeked into the pub, planning to give Haden a piece of her mind, and was shocked to find he hadn’t come in at all. Well, shit. That man still had her car.

 

‹ Prev