Bound by Danger

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Bound by Danger Page 13

by Danielle M. Haas


  “She looks exactly like Becca, only about fifteen years older.”

  Graham stepped around the sofa and stopped in front of the coffee table. He shuffled around the papers and pulled out a picture. His eyes squinted at the corners and then widened as he glanced up at her. “You’re right. The coloring, the face shape, even the way the hair curls at the ends. My God, they could be mother and daughter…or sisters.”

  The back of the sofa pressed into her abdomen as she leaned forward to get a better look at the screen. “She looks more like her than Suzi does, and Becca looks a lot like her mother.” Her eyes scanned the information listed beside the picture. “She lives in Mexico?”

  Graham bent down and closed the laptop. “Mickey, I told you, I can’t discuss the investigation with you.”

  She planted her balled fists on her hips. “Even after everything we’ve been through tonight?” Her chin quivered, making her words tremble. His continuing to shut her out hurt more than she wanted to admit.

  The corners of his mouth dipped down in a small frown and he walked over to her. He laid a hand on her shoulder and met her gaze. His eyes weren’t so intense this close. The gray not so unrelenting. “Even after tonight. Grab a shower. It’s been a long night.”

  A beat passed before she gave in. “Fine.” She turned and walked toward the bathroom. She’d weaseled her way into enough of the investigation and needed to leave it to Graham. But as she stepped into the hot spray and rinsed the dirt and sweat out of her hair, one thing kept circling in her mind…the address beside Paula’s picture on the computer screen.

  Casa Del Mar 500, Playa Del Carmen.

  What an easy address to remember.

  …

  Darkness surrounded her. Her hands reached out and brushed up against the cold stone of the walls that encased her on either side. She tried to turn in a circle, but the walls moved in, wedging her between them. Her heels dug into the dirt floor and she used all of her body weight to try to push the wall back.

  It didn’t work.

  Panic gripped her heart and she clawed at the stone. A fingernail snapped and she yelped in pain and sucked on the wounded finger. A bright light shone from the distance and she turned her shoulders to the side to shimmy down the damp tunnel. She reached toward the light, but the more she walked the farther away the light moved.

  “Help!” A shrill voice pierced the air.

  She turned her head to the side. Who was that? Was someone down here with her? “Who’s there?” Her voice bounced back at her and echoed off the walls.

  “Why did you leave me with them?” The small voice sounded like a child’s and a shiver of fear ran down her spine. Becca?

  “I’m trying to find you,” she called out. She squinted and searched the distant light, but nothing appeared.

  The walls pressed in closer, stealing the breath from her lungs. The smooth stone turned jagged as it pushed into her tender flesh. She tried to take a breath but the walls pushed in farther. She reached for the light, for the voice, but complete blackness surrounded her yet again.

  “Mickey…Mickey! Wake up.”

  An urgent voice penetrated through the walls. Light pressure pressed against her arms and her muscles tightened. Her body twisted and turned, her feet peddled through the air but didn’t touch anything. Her eyes flew open and Graham’s furrowed brow and concerned eyes stared back at her.

  She gasped for air and pushed a sheet of hair from her face. The damp strands stuck to her hand, and she shook them off as she sat up. Tears clouded her vision, and she glanced around the dark room. Her lungs burned, but she couldn’t seem to fill them fast enough. Graham tucked her hair behind her ears and gathered her close against his hard chest.

  “I was in a tunnel and the walls closed in.” Her words came out quick, her voice thick with tears. “I heard a voice, but I couldn’t get to it. I couldn’t save her. The walls were crushing me, killing me.”

  “You were having a nightmare. It’s okay. Everything’s fine.” His fingers grazed her spine, bunching the material of her shirt.

  She sunk into him, letting the slow motion of his fingers calm her. Sweat clung to her hairline, but she let it linger, focusing only on the slow movement of the tips of his fingers up and down her spine. Up and down, up and down.

  Her back stiffened and she sat up straight on the bed. She wasn’t wearing a bra. She crossed her arms over her chest and looked down. What the hell was she wearing? A large white T-shirt hung loosely on her, but her exposed nipples somehow managed to press tightly against the soft material. Heat scorched her cheeks.

  “You’re shaking. Are you cold?”

  “No, I’m not cold. I just can’t get my nightmare out of my head. The little girl’s voice will haunt me for the rest of my life.” Goosebumps lined her arms and a chill tore through her body.

  “I’ve had my fair share of nightmares. They can be brutal.”

  She dropped her gaze and her eyes landed on Graham’s naked chest. She cleared her throat and forced her eyes up to his face. “How do you get over them?”

  His arm came around and pressed against her back, pushing her close to the hard muscles of his chest. “Some of them never go away. The others drift away on their own.”

  She rested her head against his breastbone. “I’ll never be able to sleep.” Her heart beat a steady rhythm, matching Graham’s under her cheek.

  Graham pulled away and lifted her chin with his thumb. “You’re stronger than you think.”

  His touch branded her skin and she swallowed hard. Her tongue swiped across her lips, her eyes never leaving his. “Do you think so?”

  A soft chuckle rumbled from his throat and he leaned closer, his warm breath caressing her skin. “I think a lot of things about you, Red.”

  She smiled up at him. “You can’t get more creative than Red?”

  A lazy grin spread across his face. “You can’t get more creative than G.I. Joe?”

  She shrugged and the T-shirt rose a little on her thighs. Graham’s hand traveled from her chin to cup the back of her neck. “Do you want me to show you what I think of you, Red?”

  Oh, boy.

  She gulped and nodded. She wanted him to take her mind far away from the nightmare that still lingered in her brain. His warm body pressed against hers and chased the chill from her skin. His free hand wrapped around the small of her back and bunched the shirt up even higher. She closed her eyes and the horror from moments before vanished like a fine mist floating out to sea.

  It wasn’t real. Graham was real…this moment was real. And dammit, she needed something to make her feel good for just one minute of this rotten day. She took a deep breath as he lowered his lips to hers. Electricity zipped through her veins.

  Oh, freaking boy.

  Chapter Sixteen

  All the blood rushed from his head as his lips pressed against Mickey’s. Her lips were soft, her mouth eager for his. He threaded his fingers through her hair and his tongue parted her lips. He licked into her mouth and she moaned, going lax against him.

  “Lie down,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

  She obeyed. Her long legs entwined with his as he lay down beside her, and he ran a hand up one smooth calve and tightened his grip on her firm thigh. She didn’t protest, only arched her back and pulled him back down to her mouth. He rested on his elbows as he leaned over her, his tongue once again invading her mouth. His fingers itched to ride higher on her thigh and past the T-shirt she wore, but he didn’t want to move too fast.

  Mickey’s hand snaked around the back of his neck, her other wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him on top of her. Her firm breasts, unhindered by a bra, pressed against his chest. His leg parted hers and nestled close to her center. His hand came up from her thigh and the tips of his fingers rode up the curve of her hip and skimmed over the soft skin on her side. Little by little, inch by inch, he trailed them over her ribs and under the tender flesh of her breast. He lifted his thumb and let the pad rub gently o
ver her nipple. Desire surged through him as a soft moan of pleasure slipped from her mouth.

  She sucked in a sharp breath and her hand roamed up and down his back. Each stroke of her slender fingers on his bare skin heightened his desire for her, and dammit, all she touched was his back. He throbbed beneath his boxer briefs, his member pressed firmly against her stomach. His thumb and index finger came together on her nipple, pinching and teasing until it became a hard nub.

  “God, Graham. That feels so good.” Her words floated on a purr and she squirmed under him, bringing him closer to the warm spot between her legs. His blood burned hot, fueling him on.

  His mouth left hers and trailed kisses along her jawline and up to her ear. He nibbled on the lobe and then said, “I told you there’s a lot of things I think about you. And this is something I haven’t stopped thinking about since I kissed you in your kitchen.”

  He lifted his face and gazed down at her. Damn, she was beautiful. Lust sparked in her whiskey-colored eyes, but she bit into her bottom lip the way she did when she was unsure. Funny how he’d picked up on that after only a couple of days with her.

  His muscles tensed. Shit. He’d only known her a couple of days, and most of that time he’d suspected her of being an accomplice to a sex-trafficker. Now, instead of comforting her after a nightmare, he had his boner pressed to her stomach and his hand up her shirt. Not to mention she was still connected to the case. He couldn’t risk compromising this case by becoming involved with her.

  At least not yet.

  He lifted his hand from her breast and cradled her cheek. She leaned into him, her eyes never leaving his. “How about we slow this down?”

  The lust in her eyes dimmed and her brow furrowed. “Is everything okay?” she asked.

  Rolling off her, he propped his head in his fist. He weighed his words. If he mentioned a conflict of interest with sleeping with her now, she’d fly off the hinges and think he still doubted her. No need to tempt that. “You tell me. You’ve had one hell of a day. Are you sure you’re ready for this? I mean, we don’t know each other very well.”

  A blush as red as her swollen lips flooded her face. She tried to turn away from him, but he refused to let her. Her gaze drifted slowly up to his. “I’m not the kind of girl who sleeps around.”

  Shit. He never considered she’d come to that conclusion. “Honey, I didn’t think you were. But I don’t want you to do something you’ll regret. Especially with me.” A shiver of awareness coursed through him. Somehow in the past few days, Mickey had become important to him. He didn’t want to mess up a chance of a future with her, or his job, because they acted on impulse. As much as he wanted to sleep with her, he wanted her to know he respected her more.

  She took a deep breath, and he suppressed a groan when the motion made her breasts mold against her shirt. “You’re right. This,” she waved a hand between them, “wouldn’t be right. At least not tonight.”

  Graham leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I want to get to know you better, Mickey. Away from all the craziness of the past two days. Let’s do this right.”

  She nodded and a strand of hair fell across her face. He brushed it back and turned to climb out of the bed. A warm touch on his arm stopped him, and he turned to face her.

  “Will you stay in here with me? I don’t want to be alone…not after what happened tonight.”

  The lines around her eyes deepened and her teeth tucked into her lip again. His body still burned for her. Sleeping in the same bed, with her so close, would be pure torture. But he couldn’t say no. He wanted to be there for her and show her he meant what he’d said.

  Climbing back into the bed, he nestled in behind her. His arm wrapped around her middle and he pulled her tight to him. Her hair tickled his nose, and the scent of strawberries assaulted his senses. “Go to sleep,” he said in her ear.

  She relaxed against him and her breathing slowed until the steady rhythm of sleep took her under. He glanced at the clock over her shoulder. Three a.m. Sleep was the last thing on his mind.

  “Graham, where are my clothes?” Mickey whispered into his ear.

  “Hmm? What’s going on?” He reached out to pull her back into his arms, but she backed away with a small laugh.

  “Stop it. I’ve got to get to work, but I can’t find my clothes.”

  His eyes drifted open. Mickey stood beside the bed, her hair pinned back in a neat bun at the nape of her neck. Sun shone through the curtains on the opposite side of the room, and he swore she looked like an angel with the early light streaming behind her. “What time is it?”

  “It’s six. I really need to get dressed.” She pulled the T-shirt away from her body. “This isn’t exactly work appropriate.”

  He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and sat up. The blanket fell to his lap, and Mickey’s gaze drifted to his chest. “I washed your uniform after you came to bed last night. I hung them up beside the dryer so they wouldn’t wrinkle.”

  She leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Thanks. I’m going to change and head out. I’ll talk to you soon.”

  His groin tightened as he watched her hips sway, the white T-shirt barely skimming the tops of her thighs. He deserved a medal for stopping things last night, and then still sleeping with her curled up beside him for the rest of the night. He glanced at the clock and groaned. Harper wouldn’t be in the office until nine a.m. He didn’t want to wait to talk to him about what had happened last night. He also needed to book a flight to Mexico so he could talk to Paula Williams.

  Mickey was right—she looked an awful lot like Becca Stanley. Paula might be the missing piece of the puzzle he’d been searching for.

  …

  Graham’s heart beat against his chest like a heavy drum.

  This was so foreign to him. Harper had always been a stern boss. Hell, Graham respected him for his no bullshit approach on handling situations, but he’d never encountered the stubborn pain in the ass attitude Harper constantly threw at him on this case. It was as if Harper didn’t want him to succeed. He didn’t know how to deal with it.

  Stepping out of his car, he looked around the quiet neighborhood. Shade trees lined the street, small cages encasing the bottoms of their skinny trunks. Traffic was light, but older couples walking their dogs littered the sidewalks. He nodded hello, taking in the attractions around him. A few restaurants and an abandoned movie theater sat nestled in with the townhouses and office buildings. Birds singing out in the early morning mingled with the snippets of conversation and yaps of little dogs.

  Graham buried one hand in the pocket of his chinos while the other held a file at his side. His dress shoes tapped against the sidewalk, and he blew out a long breath as he walked up the steps to the front door of a townhouse.

  Harper’s going to kill me.

  After Mickey had left, he’d been lucky enough to find a flight to Cancun leaving midmorning. He didn’t have time to dick around, waiting for Harper to get into the office. He’d called in and wasn’t surprised his boss wasn’t there. Then he’d tried Harper’s cell phone, but was sent straight to voicemail. So, he decided to come straight to his residence. He was already in hot water. What would a little more heat do?

  He hated the slight tremor in his hand as he lifted it and knocked on the bright red door. Weakness could not be shown, at least not right now. There was no doubt in his mind he was on the right track, and he needed Harper to finally see it, too. He couldn’t convince Harper if he showed weakness.

  An eternity passed and his entire career flashed before his eyes before the door opened and Harper stared at him with the look of death in his eyes. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “You wanted to see me first thing this morning, but I don’t have time to meet with you once you get to the office. I have a plane to catch. I figured you’d rather speak to me before I left the country.”

  “So you came to my house? Are you insane?” Harper’s face grew red and a vein in
his forehead bulged.

  Graham bit into his cheek and stood his ground. He lifted the file in the air. He’d printed off the pictures he’d taken of the house last night to add to it before coming to see Harper, along with the picture of Paula Williams. “I brought some evidence to show you. I think it might change your mind about how I’ve handled the case.”

  Harper waved his hand through the air as if swatting away an annoying gnat. “Do you think I haven’t seen it? And everything you have in your file is circumstantial at best. Mere speculation and garbage at worst.”

  His fingers curled around the edge of the thin file and he ground his teeth together. “Sir, I respectfully disagree with you. And there’s new evidence I added late last night.”

  A heavy sigh lifted Harper’s broad shoulders and he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t you understand? We can’t use anything you found in that house. You didn’t wait for the warrant. Looking at it won’t do a damn thing except piss me off.”

  “I had a damn good reason to go into the house before the warrant came through last night. A woman cried out for help. Any judge would agree with me and take everything we found last night into consideration.”

  “Watch yourself, Grassi. You’ve been skating on thin ice for a while. I’d hate for you to fall through. I’m not sure you’d ever resurface.”

  Graham thrust the file toward him. Harper hadn’t even seen the photos from last night yet, and he didn’t know about Paula. “If you’d just—”

  “Enough.” Harper leaned forward and shook a bony finger in Graham’s face. “I’m not the only one who thinks you’re pulling on the wrong thread. Either you come up with something fast, or I’m taking you off the case. The lives of three young girls are at stake, and I’m not going to let your mistakes lead them to their graves. Now get to work.”

  Numbness crept into his limbs and he turned to walk down the stairs. Before his legs complied, he threw the file at Harper’s feet. What the hell was going on? He’d never been treated this way before. And someone else thought he was messing up? A million questions danced on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed them down.

 

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