Criminal Promises

by Nikki Duncan

  “I mean it.” Grace turned on him. “Back off. You should have told me.”

  “Grace,” BD rested his elbows on the counter and leaned forward. “He couldn’t tell you any more than I was supposed to tell Maggie.”

  “But you did tell her.”

  “Different circumstances.” He turned his head toward Maggie. “And it’ll be over. Soon.”

  Maggie sucked in a pained and iced breath that stabbed deep in her heart. More than the case would be over. He would leave, taking any chance of a them with him.

  Maggie closed the door behind Grace and locked it before turning to face BD. “What’s in the envelope?”

  “Let’s find out.” Holding his hand toward the kitchen, he waited for her to precede him to where Craig had chosen to stay as a way of avoiding more of Grace’s wrath. His only surprise at the Craig and Grace coupling was how polar opposite she was from the reserved kindergarten teacher types he normally went for. The Malones bred strong women.

  How strong?

  They had to know what was in the envelope, but BD’s instinct to shield Maggie warred with the fact she’d figure it out anyway. She was getting under his skin. The more time he spent around her, the more he wanted to be with her. She especially disturbed him when she paced the house in the middle of the night.

  Checking blinds and locks he’d already checked or sitting in the chairs in each kid’s room—sad and alone in the silence until he drew her into watching one of her many action DVDs.

  Every minute in her company made resistance increasingly difficult.

  Back in the kitchen, standing at the island, with Maggie at his side and Craig on the other side of the counter, BD pulled the envelope closer. “You sure about this, Mags?”

  “We can do it without you,” Craig added.

  “No.”

  “Adalia doesn’t play fair.” BD stopped himself from giving her the warning of how Adalia tortured her victims mentally, emotionally and physically. Maggie had experienced a little of the first two. She would never know the last.

  “Message received.”

  As vitally as he knew hoping she wouldn’t argue was pointless.

  Craig leaned forward and covered her hand with his. “Bear that in mind the next time you give BD hell.”

  “Surely he hasn’t been whining. I think I’ve gone along pretty well.”

  “Mostly. A blind man can see how you enjoy tormenting him.” Craig winked at her. “I’m not blind.”

  “If you two don’t mind.” BD tapped the envelope.

  Maggie pulled latex gloves out of a box in a drawer for each of them. After putting them on, BD withdrew a piece of blood red cloth. Gripping the scratchy linen, he pulled back the folds.

  3 - TICK TOCK

  The typed words covered a plain white sheet of paper. Flipping the paper over, the image of peaceful suburban life with a wife on the outskirts of the fun stared up at him. The photo was of Mike and Jared playing ball on the front lawn. Maggie stood off to the side, hands clasped in front of her, shadows lingered in her eyes, and her shoulders were slightly slouched.

  Those shoulders still carried a heavy load, heavier now than then, but she no longer slouched or accepted defeat. As if proving the point, she stepped closer and turned the photo, a likely souvenir from one of Adalia’s visits to her home, toward her with the tip of her nail.

  “I’ve never seen this picture, but I remember this day. It was the day before Mike’s death.”

  “This wasn’t yours?”

  Her eyes filled with determined suspicion. “No.”

  “She was watching Mike.” No surprise there.

  Craig stepped around the counter to stand on Maggie’s other side. “And knew his time was running out.”

  “Sorry, Mags.”

  She shook her head and waved BD on to the next page.

  2 - REACT FASTER

  Slipping the second sheet of white paper aside, BD’s knees and legs dissolved. He grabbed the edge of the counter and closed his eyes. Darkness whirled with memories, loss and hate. The sketch Samantha had drawn mocked him. It was one of the few things he’d kept from that life, but he hadn’t been able to stomach looking at the eerily lifelike rendering of a blue-eyed infant.

  Maggie looked between them with confusion stamped on her features. “I don’t get it.”

  “It’s a long story for later,” Craig said.

  Much later. “Adalia took this the day I moved in.” It was her way of reminding them Maggie wasn’t the only target. “Bitch gets points for knowing where to strike.”

  And she’d just dealt her losing hand. BD slid the paper to the side.

  1 - SOON

  Uncovering the last picture, seeing him and Maggie sitting close together on the picnic table, anger broiled through his veins. It had been snapped from high in one of the neighboring trees as they’d talked about Mike. The moment he’d opened up enough to trust Maggie while breaking her heart again was forever caught on film.

  Craig’s eyes flashed to his and he knew his friend had seen the truth. With it staring him in the face, impossible to ignore, he recognized for the first time what he’d been working so hard to deny. He cared deeply for Maggie and every quirky, obsessive-compulsive part of her.

  “She’s trying to push us with this,” Craig kept the conversation on business while his store promised a long talk later. “This was delivered to the station before I went in to update Cap on our plan.”

  “She’ll know very soon, if she doesn’t already, we have the scrolls.” A best friend capable of reading your thoughts could be a pain in the ass. He also made the best wingman a guy could ask for by keeping the really big secrets. “Mags. Are you all right?”

  She met his eyes boldly. Nope. Pure, unadulterated rage fired in her generally peaceful and sometimes sad gaze. “I will be.”

  “I’ll call and update Cap.” Craig pulled his phone from his pocket and headed to the other room.

  BD took Maggie’s hand and led her to the table. Sitting beside her, the damning need to stop the woman responsible for threatening her clenched his gut. “No one would blame you for being scared.”

  “Are you? Scared?”

  “I’d be dead if this stuff didn’t scare me.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, something he always did. “I don’t understand.”

  “We’re afraid every time we go into a potentially dangerous situation. Instead of letting it rule us, we use it to focus on the job.” Failure meant death, and as much as he’d dreaded life at times death had never really been an option.

  “How? What do you do to force yourself beyond the fear?”

  Wanting, needing, the reassurance of her nearness, hoping to reassure her in return, he bracketed her knees between his own and rubbed his hands over her thighs. “If we fail, people lose their lives. It’s a harsh reality, but by keeping it in mind, by remembering to be smarter than whoever we’re after, we have the advantage. No one else will die at Adalia’s hands.”

  She linked her fingers with his over her legs, connecting them with a quiet intimacy. “Her mind games bug me. How do I stop that?”

  He wasn’t sure when they’d stopped fighting their attraction, but he would enjoy the moments. “You’ve already done it. You refuse to let her run you off. That’s courage.”

  He raised her hand, kissing her knuckles as it was the only way he could show her how much he cared. “I’ll keep you safe, Mags.”

  She smiled and her entire face softened like it did in rare instances of relaxed happiness she slowed herself. “Tell me what we do to end this. I want my life back.”

  Chapter 11

  Maggie had been reading Mike’s translations over and over for hours when the phone rang. Intent on the symbol to letter code sheet Mike hadn’t finished, she grabbed it without checking caller ID. “Hello.”

  “You and Detective Harte make a lovely couple.” She’d never spoken to Adalia Wood, but the cultivated charm was the same she’d heard i
n the courtroom. The charm did nothing to hide her evilness. “Such passion.”

  A cold shiver coursed down Maggie’s spine as she spun around. The window blinds were closed, as were all the blinds in the house. “Excuse me?”

  Harte dropped the notes he’d been re-reading into the armchair, crossed the room in two strides and towered over her, dominating her space and the room. “Adalia,” he mouthed silently.

  Maggie nodded and focused on the call. Harte pulled his cell phone from his pocket and punched in a few numbers.

  “Have you gotten my notes?”

  “They’re vague.” Leaning against the desk, she wondered at her absence of thoughts. Shouldn’t her mind be racing with them? “Why don’t you tell me why you want these papers?”

  “I like that you don’t play games. That you don’t pretend to not have them.”

  Harte circled his hand in front of her, prompting her to keep Adalia talking. All the while he spoke into his phone so quietly she wondered how whoever he spoke to heard him, because even inches away she couldn’t.

  “It would only delay the inevitable.” The final confrontation with Adalia had been delayed enough. She wasn’t ready to see BD, but was more than ready for life to normalize.

  “You’re right,” Adalia agreed amiably, “but it won’t save your life.”

  Icy chills scraped along Maggie’s skin. Fear grabbed her by the throat. She leaned forward, struggling to breathe beyond the pain pricks stabbing at her intestines. Buzzing in her ears almost drowned out her thoughts.

  The buzzing was Adalia’s voice. “You’re a beautiful woman with cute kids, Maggie. You have a lot of self-control. More than your slut sister.”

  Harte’s hand landed on her back. Strong. She glanced into his eyes. Calm. Straightening, she shot her fears the middle finger. “You like watching me, Adalia? Would you prefer it if I opened the blinds and gave you more of a show?”

  “I wonder what it takes to send you over the edge.” The charm gave away to tightly suppressed rage and Maggie pictured Adalia’s knuckles whitening on the phone.

  “You can find out when you come get the papers.”

  “The clock’s ticking.”

  “Care to tell me how long I have?” She was losing any control she’d had over the call with Adalia’s ramping anger.

  “I didn’t plan on killing Mike. I liked him.” She ignored Maggie’s question. “I can’t say the same about you and Harte.”

  “We both know you’d have killed him once you had the papers.” Dread cooled Maggie’s blood. Harte lightly thumped her chin, pulling her attention back to Adalia. If she had something the woman wanted, then she was relatively safe. At least until she got it. “Is there a point to this conversation other than your weak attempt to get inside my head?”

  “You will fear me.”

  Maggie’s bravado held out long enough for her to ease a casual shrug into her tone, needling Adalia. “Listen, I have a lot to do. Why don’t you come over? We’ll end this now.”

  “Get rid of your bodyguard.”

  “Harte scares you?”

  “I don’t like prison.”

  “And here I thought you’d be more than just a talking ego.” Maggie laughed. “Besides, he can’t put you behind bars if you kill him.”

  Maggie’s guts knotted with sickness at the idea of BD being killed.

  “You’ll beg me for mercy before you die, Maggie.” Adalia’s ego invaded her growl of frustration. “Don’t try any tricks.”

  The phone went silent.

  BD held in the curse. No trace. Adalia had likely used a burner phone and the signal bounced between towers. She’d been on the move while he was feeling more like a rat cage in a glass-encased maze with Adalia tapping the lid to create confusion.

  Suppressing useless aggravation, he knelt before Maggie. He ached to pull her close and comfort her, but instead made her recount the conversation.

  “It’s okay, Mags.” He cupped her face and held her gaze. “She’s trying to freak you out before she makes her move.”

  “I think it’s working.”

  “No. You can do this.” Though if they’d had time to bring in an undercover cop to act as decoy he would have done it. “She won’t make a move as long as I’m here.”

  “You can’t be here twenty-four seven.”

  He sank back onto his heels. The pressure to save her, to avoid involvement, built until he couldn’t ignore the desire anymore. “How can I help you feel better? What can I do to take your mind off everything for a little bit?”

  She could ask for anything, and he’d walk barefoot through running lava to give it to her.

  “Kiss me again.”

  He hadn’t expected that.

  An inch away, so close he smelled the fragrant scent she always wore, the image of her blood had him pulling back. He could give her anything but that. Moving to the next level with her blurred the lines of why he was here. Protect her. Catch a killer. Nothing more. “Mags.”

  She slid a fingertip over his mouth, pleading with her eyes. “Please.”

  Tracing a thumb over her bottom lip, plump from her chewing teeth, he yearned. To feel her. To give her pleasure. To know that in the midst of her pain and loss he was able to give her something special.

  Don’t do it.

  A molten core of passion rested untapped just below the surface of her skin. Rapture drifted through him at the thought of being the one to awaken her.

  “Be sure, Mags.” This is a mistake! “If I kiss you, it isn’t going to stop there.”

  “I know.” Her tongue darted out and brushed the tip of his thumb. “I want you.”

  Heat and arousal shot south. Logic scattered. He stood and pulled her to her feet before sliding her up his body. Holding her hips, he pulled her close so she was pressed tight to him. “Wrap your legs around me. We’re going for a ride.”

  She locked her ankles behind his waist. Smiling, she rubbed against his erection. Warm moisture penetrated her clothes and seeped into him.

  Determined not to drop her, or fall to the floor because of weak knees, he headed for his room.

  She tightened her legs, digging the gun he’d tucked at his waist into his spine. The pain almost centered him in reality. But holding her in his arms, knowing this was a moment’s escape from threats and danger, promised pure pleasure. He intended for them both to enjoy.

  This wasn’t a permanent relationship, but neither was she a hit-and-run screw. After he left—and he would leave because a happily-ever-after with a ready-made family wasn’t in his future—she would not remember him as selfish in bed.

  Carrying her down the hall, her soft curves fitting against him naturally, her fingers tangled in his hair and soft brushes of her fingertips against his neck shot sparks of fire through his veins.

  His gaze moved over her face. The tip of her tongue darted across her lips. Her mouth parted again in anticipation.

  Primitive need snaked through him. His heart rate rocketed. He wanted to kiss her. Taste her.

  “Screw it.” Pinning her to the wall, rocking his hips, and rubbing against the hot moisture wetting her jeans, he claimed her mouth.

  Their tongues dueled. Muscle sliding against muscle. She moaned and arched against him. His knees buckled and slammed into the wall. No woman had ever launched him as far into full arousal as Maggie had with a whispered request for a kiss.

  “Mmm.” Tilting her head, she nibbled along his neck. “Burke.”

  Angling his head to the side, he closed his eyes and thrilled at her touch, at the sound of his name rolling off her tongue when she’d only called him Harte before. “Mags. Bed.”

  “Okay.” Her warm breath rushed across his ear. She kept nibbling on him like he was some kind of feast.

  Fisting his hand in her shirt, he mustered up the strength to move to his room. At the end of his bed, he resisted the urge to toss her down and devour her like a starved animal. “Unlink your ankles.”

  When he slid
her to the floor, she kept her right leg hooked at his hip. Her left hand slid around his waist and pulled him closer. Pressing against his raging erection, she looked into his eyes and sent him a feline grin.

  “Damn, you’re gorgeous.” The words scraped his throat unrecognizable as his voice. Too late to turn back, he knew he was going to burn for this pleasure.

  Cupping her ass, BD pulled her tighter against him, lifting her so he could claim her mouth. With a purring sigh, she opened to him, welcoming him with her warmth. He explored the sweetness of her mouth. Running the tip of his tongue over her lips, he pushed his way through the slight opening.

  She arched into him. Her pebbled nipples brushed his chest, singeing him. If they were naked he’d be well on the way to heaven, but since they weren’t he had that much longer to discover the hidden treasures of her body.

  Fisting his hand in her braid, he tipped her head back for fuller access to her mouth. Showing her a hint of how thoroughly he planned to enjoy her, he thrust his tongue in and out of her mouth.

  She thrust her hips forward in a mirrored answer. Her moist heat teased him through their pants and made him glad he still wore his pajama bottoms. Pulling back, he traced her lips with a finger and held her gaze.

  Uncertainty flashed for a second, but it was enough to cool him off. “Be very sure, Mags. If you want to stop, now’s the time to say so.”

  Without blinking, she traced his lips as he’d done hers. “I want this.”

  This. Not him. He should be grateful for the distance her words insinuated. Instead, they stabbed at him and cooled his ardor enough for clarity. He sat her gently away, so they were close, but not touching. She wasn’t a casual sex kind of woman, and he was going to prove it to her. She would want him before they were finished.

  “I’m going to taste every inch of you.” He placed a finger by her eye. “Starting here.”

  Her eyes flared with aroused awareness. Using only the tip of his tongue to touch her, he caressed her. She gasped.