CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1)

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CUL-DE-SAC (On The Edge Book 1) Page 39

by YILDIRIM, M. E.


  Yet his instantaneous acceptance of her grandmother’s charge didn’t leave space for doubts; he meant what he admitted to.

  Now she wanted to know how, when and why it happened because–his temper aside–Xan wasn’t the kind of a man capable of purposefully harming another person.

  In fight, yes, it was part of the bloody sport, but not in life and not just for the hell of it, she thought.

  Somebody could point out that she refused to believe in facts because she didn’t want to acknowledge being in love with a killer. Perhaps there was some truth in it, Catalina admitted, especially after her traumatic experience from childhood but there was much more to that.

  She knew that people who had a record of suffering physical abuse often became tormentors as well, but Xan didn’t have it in him. If he had, he wouldn’t think about starting a school to teach and offer help to kids just like he was himself at one point.

  He would be set on destroying, not building.

  She had never been afraid of him on a physical level, no matter his profession and she rejected the possibility of fearing him now. On the contrary–she felt safe with him, maybe for the first time since her childhood.

  Catalina just wanted to learn all there was to the tragic incident because she knew very well things were rarely as clear and obvious as they seemed on the surface.

  She should be repelled by him, by what he did, Cat decided, but nothing about her feelings or reactions to Xan was as simple as that.

  Nothing was black and white either.

  She was ready to ask questions and analyze once the first shock subsided somewhat because she loved him and it was not going to change anytime soon. He was it for her and she was seriously fed up with people who tried to prove to her that he was nothing but bad news.

  She wasn’t so feeble she would have bent under persuasion from others. She wasn’t impulsive or stupid either, and before she made up her mind about something or someone, she collected as much information as possible. She didn’t see any reason for this time to be any different just because her heart was involved, she told herself, wondering how true her words rang in reality.

  Catalina realized that love wasn’t always pretty and about living high on emotions. It wasn’t this romantic notion she had always been envisioning either. It was raw, powerful, leaving a person naked and bruised but you held on to it anyway no matter what.

  She wasn’t going to give up on him just because it seemed convenient to so many people. She would not say goodbye just because he was too untamed and his armor too tattered to suit her romantic visions. She wasn’t a child and she knew better than anyone that fairy tales were just that–tales. And this was not how their story was going to end, she decided.

  Catalina forced herself to look at the images again.

  If she knew one thing it was photography, and something about these pictures was constantly bugging her, nagging at her from the moment they were shoved at her.

  There was no doubt in her mind they were old, she didn’t have a problem with that. It was about the fact those snapshots were taken by an amateur’s hand. If they depicted a victim of a murder, they should have been taken by a forensic photographer.

  One of her colleagues worked as a crime scene photographer. From a few stories he had shared with her at one point or another, she knew that crime scene photos were used in a variety of ways.

  They could be instrumental to solving a crime or they could be used for analysis and measurements, so the person taking them had to be accurate and detailed. A good crime scene photographer was able to tell stories with his pictures just like any other, even though the nature of his work was very specific.

  Those images could give a glimpse into how a victim lived and what his or her personality was. A specialist would know what settings to use in low light conditions and would have an understanding that all crime scene photographs should be properly lit, adequately exposed and sharply focused. They should be free from distortion and have good depth of field.

  In other words they should be all that the pictures in her possession were not, she decided.

  Crime scene images should also be attached to research papers, articles and forensic reports and all she got was a stack of images alone. Gabriel wouldn’t hesitate to show it all to her if he were in possession of any kind of proof that Xan did commit a murder. Not to mention Florence, who would have been more than happy to spring it all on her.

  Moreover, her lover would have been serving time now because there was no statute of limitations for murder.

  The question was: who took them and why, then?

  There was someone who could help her with shedding some light onto the case and it wasn’t Xan.

  Her eyes were gritty from the lack of sleep, but her mind was working overtime, not allowing her to take a moment of respite.

  It didn’t feel real that only a few hours before, they were in New York City trying to stave off one crisis just to come back and jump into the middle of another.

  But then nobody had promised it was going to be easy, she thought.

  Cat glanced at her watch, deciding that she had enough time to take another shower, drink a cup of coffee and head toward the city. She wanted to talk to the Lieutenant of the Santa Monica Police Department before he could get sucked into his daily routine.

  CHAPTER 51

  There were days Gabriel Mercer liked his job and there were those he would rather do anything else. He liked to think he had a vivid imagination, although he wouldn’t say what this ‘anything else’ could possibly be.

  On the list of things he didn’t like, a friend trying to lie to him would probably take one of the highest places, he decided, looking at the woman sitting in front of his desk.

  “So let me get this straight. You may or may not be in possession of a proof of an incident that might or might not be a crime,” he said.

  “When you put it like that, it sounds ridiculous,” Catalina pursed her lips.

  “I’m sorry, is there another way to put it? Please do share.” He mocked and she rolled her eyes.

  Her life was suddenly filled with overbearing males trying to take over.

  “If you could just run the picture through your database…”

  “I won’t use police resources for something when I don’t even know what I am looking for.” He cut her off.

  “I don’t remember you ever being so radical and unbending before,” she complained.

  “Compliments will get you nowhere, Catalina. Besides, I remember you used to be straightforward and honest with me. Now stop offending my intelligence and tell me what it is all about,” he suggested.

  “I have a picture of a… of an injured young man, it looks years old and I want to know if it’s possible to match a name with the face.” She couldn’t force herself to say ‘dead’.

  That, and somewhere during those long sleepless hours of the night, she started to wonder, what if the man wasn’t dead at all? Was it even possible or had her sleep-deprived mind started to play tricks on her? Catalina wondered.

  “Show me the damn picture!” He demanded.

  She sighed, pulling the image from her purse and handing it over. Her stomach stopped rolling angrily at the sight of it because she no longer perceived it as a proof of a crime, looking at it from a strictly technical point of view.

  And she really wasn’t sure there was a crime to begin with.

  She sipped her coffee, thinking that it was a matter of time before her hands started to shake from too much caffeine and her body would give in to exhaustion.

  “You know I have to ask where you got it from.” He narrowed his eyes at her.

  “Someone sent it to me.” It wasn’t that much far from the truth, she decided.

  She had a lot of time to think about the best approach to the problem, and in the end she determined it would be well-advised if she stayed as close to the truth as possible.

  Everything else aside, Gabriel was a friend and she di
dn’t want to damage this relationship anymore it already had been.

  “Just like that?” He sent her a look that said it all.

  “Just like that,” she agreed.

  “Cat, you might get yourself in a shitload of trouble if you are hiding something from me. Now let me ask you; what does he have to do with it? What did he do?” His lips thinned with displeasure.

  “Nothing,” she said fast.

  Everything, she thought.

  “Someone sent it to me because you are not the only one who doesn’t approve of my relationship with Alexander. I could have gone to my friend in the FBI, but I thought of you instead. Please tell me I didn’t make a mistake and that I can still count on you, as you’ve promised me earlier.” Catalina looked him straight in the eye.

  “Fuck! Way to use my own words against me. Fine, I will run it through our application and we will see if it is going to find anything in the facial database. I am not promising anything, though; it can only detect someone who is already in our system. If he had never had a run-in with the law, then we are back to square one,” he warned.

  “Promise me one thing; that you will…”

  “Keep my mouth shut no matter the result because it’s personal?” He didn’t let her finish.

  “No, keep your mind open and don’t make it more personal than it already is,” she corrected coolly and he swore under his breath again.

  “I will call you if I learn anything,” he got up, letting her know their meeting had come to an end.

  ***

  Xan could have never imagined that one night might drag ass as much as the one he barely made through.

  The sparring session with Kelton turned into a brutal skirmish, leaving them both bloodied and battered. Yet he was still feeling restless, and nothing mattered to him more than talking to Catalina.

  He wanted to call her more than a dozen times throughout the night and early morning but he didn’t want to give her a choice not to answer.

  When he faced her, he wouldn’t walk away until she heard all he had to say, he decided. If that sealed his fate as ruthless and uncompromising, so be it.

  It was too important to leave anything to a capricious bitch called fate.

  But before that could happen, life decided he apparently didn’t have enough on his plate yet and threw him another curveball.

  In Xan’s mind, the deal on the building they wanted to shape into a fighting school was as good as done. Sadly their morning meeting at the bank proved otherwise.

  “What the fuck just happened?” He wanted to know not even trying to hide his growing anger.

  The loan officer looked at him warily and a moment later, Xan felt Kel’s hand on his shoulder.

  “Calm down, Jason here was about to tell us, right?”

  “As I was trying to explain, there is another person interested in the property. It is possible the owner is trying to stall in order to hoist the price.”

  “We’ve been over this already. Besides, we had an agreement,” Xan drawled out through clenched teeth.

  “I think it’s best you talk to the owner,” the banker suggested.

  “Thank you for your time,” Kel said. “We will be in touch.”

  It was relatively easy to trace down the owner and as much as he was reluctant to share any details, Xan’s grim expression made him give out one name: Bennett.

  Apparently Florence wasn’t joking and didn’t consider ruining his relationship with Cat as a punishment enough, he thought. She wasn’t letting go until she ruined him.

  He supposed it made perfect sense; learning what your opponent wanted and then not letting him or her achieve it was the best kind of revenge. He could respect that, even if he had no intentions of tolerating it.

  Maybe in her world it was a warning one should take seriously and back off, but in his it was a challenge one simply didn’t leave unanswered. He wondered what her reaction would be if she knew she just added a few new shiny layers to his already rock hard determination.

  “What did she offer you?” He looked at the man.

  “It’s more of what she implied might happen if I sell it to you. You might not know it, but the name Bennett has quite a lot of influence on Santa Monica’s life.”

  Oh, he was aware of it alright, Xan thought. But he was more interested in the influence one specific Bennett woman had on his damn heart, and it wasn’t Florence.

  “How about you sell it to me and not him?” Kel asked and Xan’s head snapped up, because it was one of options he was entertaining too, even if it didn’t sit so well with him.

  He knew Kelton was involved in the project, but it wasn’t his dream, not the way it was Xan’s anyway.

  “Well…” The man’s lips pursed and he rocked on his heels considering it.

  “Sit on it for a while and I will call you later, okay?” Kel offered and shook the guy’s hand.

  “Was that one of those binding handshakes that practically mean the deal is as good as done?” Xan smirked when they were back in the car.

  “He forces us to go through this song and dance again and he loses the damn hand.” Kel muttered.

  “And this is why we are friends,” Xan chuckled.

  “I can cede half of it to you after we are done with paperwork,” Kel informed him.

  “I am not worried about that, I trust you, it’s just that…”

  “It was your idea all along and you want to make it on your own as much as possible. I get it, man,” Kel nodded.

  “Yeah, something like that,” Xan agreed.

  “Just drop me off at my place and go to your girl,” Kelton said.

  “Have to swing by the gym first because I left my things there last night.”

  However, fate was turning out to be a maniacal fiend having its whole ill plans focused on him today, Xan decided, stopping his car at the curb. He saw Noah Michaels leaning against the hood of his own vehicle in front of the gym, clearly awaiting someone.

  Xan knew he was that lucky someone, or rather unlucky. Not that he had anything against the guy, but today was already making him wrestle with his temper and it was barely half past nine a.m.

  “Dragon,” Xan said, skimming his gaze over the other fighter, noticing he looked better than the last time he saw him.

  “Do you have a minute?” Noah asked and Xan only sighed.

  “Sure, are you up for a sparring match?” He looked at him again but what he really meant was; did you get yourself back under control?

  The last time he saw the guy, Dragon was severely injured after the pounding he took at the club. He was barely standing, yet claiming his readiness to go back to the activities that could have caused him permanent damage.

  Xan feared that was what lured him the most because add to it alcohol and Noah was well on his merry way to completely fucking up his life.

  “Not today; I just want to talk.”

  “Then talk,” Xan shrugged.

  “You pissed me off that day you came into my house,” Noah started and Xan wondered if they were going to have to spar after all or if the guy was heading toward some kind of an apology.

  If Dragon had the latter on his mind, he sucked at it even worse than he did himself, Xan decided.

  “I know,” he acknowledged.

  “Thank you for that; I needed it so I could clean up my act.” Noah extended his hand to him and Xan accepted it.

  He knew how hard it was to hear an unwelcome truth; he hated it himself with a vengeance, but sometimes no other argument would do. He could also imagine how hard it was to come here and admit to it. Pride hardly seemed like a virtue when one had to swallow it in order to take the first step.

  “And did you? Clean your act, that is?” He knew Noah did, he wouldn’t be here otherwise, but some things needed to be said and heard to make them more real.

  “Yes, you said you might have something for me,” Dragon looked as uncomfortable as Xan would have felt himself in he had been in the other man’s shoes.


  “I am opening a school…”

  “I know; people are talking about it.”

  “And what are they saying?” Xan raised an eyebrow.

  “Some like it, some don’t,” Noah shrugged.

  “I didn’t expect anything else. So, we will probably need some help with running things. Are you interested?”

  “Yeah, that would be great, but I can’t leave the club,” Noah said and his fists clenched.

  “That is your business.” He could relate to that, Xan thought bitterly. “You never told me how you got mixed up in it to begin with?”

  “I don’t think you would want me at your place if I told you that.”

  Something in Dragon’s tone snapped Xan’s attention, tugging at his own thoughts and memories.

  “Why don’t you try me…?” He offered.

  CHAPTER 52

  Catalina didn’t feel like going back home after her not-so-successful meeting with Gabriel. It was obvious their friendship suffered due to her relationship with Xan, and it was yet another loss on her side since the moment her warrior entered her life.

  However, this time it was because of jealousy and she found Gabe’s brand of it much more honest than all others. She hoped Gabriel would shake it off with time and see that she was right all along: they would have never been happy together. Their upbringing was too similar and they were moving in the same social circles she needed to escape from, now more than ever.

  Cat didn’t think she had enough fight in her to do that and at the same time battle with someone like Gabriel who didn’t seem ready to turn away from the elite.

  Xan didn’t ask for any kind of explanation, probably wouldn’t care for it even if she felt the need to give it to him. He didn’t try to change her or expect a certain behavior from her.

  He accepted her the way she was and for someone who had been taught to hide her true nature, it was the biggest gift she could have ever received.

 

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