“Who?”
“The dispatcher. You know, for the Lake Loyal PD.”
“Ahh. The one who can do just about everything except make coffee. What did she say?”
“Just that people tend to get into psychological professions in order to figure out who they are.”
“I’m betting she used more colorful phrasing than that.”
“She’s right, you know.”
Trent raised his brows. “So you’re asking if I have hobbies? Doesn’t seem that would provide much insight.”
Risa shrugged. “I just wondered if you’ve given any thought to it. Or if you keep yourself busy so you don’t have to.”
“The latter. So do you know who you are?”
“Not yet. I mean, not really. But I think I’ve always been trying to figure out why my family was so toxic when I was growing up. And why I couldn’t change it.”
“Risa…”
“I don’t mean I should have been able to change my mother or my stepfather. But if I had been more generous toward Nikki when she needed me… I guess I’m trying to figure out why I wasn’t.”
“You’re trying to help her now.”
“In theory.”
“What does that mean?”
Pressure descended on Risa’s chest, making it hard to breathe.
Trent laid his hand on her shoulder. “You okay?”
She shook her head.
“What is it?”
“You’re going to think it’s stupid, putting so much credence in the words of a psychopath.”
“Listening to him would be stupid. You know, he wants to hurt you.”
“Yeah.” The room grew blurry, and Risa did her best to blink back the surge of tears. “It only hurt because what he said was true.”
“What was it?”
“That I don’t sacrifice. Not for Nikki. Not for anyone. I never have.”
“That’s not you.”
Risa took a step away, letting Trent’s hand skim down her shoulder and fall from her arm. She couldn’t have him touching her now. Feeling sorry for her. If anyone didn’t warrant sorry, it was her.
“Risa…”
“When have I sacrificed, Trent? I could have stayed with Nikki when I was a kid. I could have protected her. Hell, I could have taken her to live with me after I moved out on my own. Our mother wouldn’t have cared. She probably wouldn’t have even noticed.”
“Risa, that’s not fair.”
“And you. You walked away to protect me from all this. What did I sacrifice? I wasn’t even able to let you go. I had to see Dryden for myself. I had to understand. God, I…”
“The blame for that isn’t yours.”
Risa didn’t know what to say. She’d spent the last two years angry with Trent for pushing her away, and now just as she was recognizing her role in their breakup, he was agreeing with her past argument? “Trent, I was wrong to focus that on you.”
“No, you weren’t.” Releasing a breath, he shook his head. “This job changes a person, Rees. It makes you look at the world in an entirely different way. It becomes who you are.”
“I understand what you’re saying Trent, but—”
“No, you don’t. And I’m doing a damn poor job of explaining.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, then dropping his hand, he looked at her. “I’ll bet your stomach is tied in a big damn knot. That’s why you aren’t interested in those sandwiches downstairs, even though you’ve eaten only once in the past forty-eight hours.”
Judging from the look on Trent’s face, the question was rhetorical. Risa held her tongue and let him go on.
“And sleep? You’ve gotten about three hours since I first knocked on your door.”
Another statement she couldn’t refute.
“You can’t eat. You can’t sleep. Dryden has destroyed your piece of mind, Rees. And it can’t be fixed. You’ll never feel safe again. Even if this trap works like a charm. Even if we get Nikki back. Even if we catch Dryden. You’ll never walk up the front steps of your house without seeing Farrentina Hamilton’s body. You’ll never look through a peephole without seeing Dryden’s eyes staring back at you.”
Risa flinched at his words. He was right. Those events would haunt her the rest of her life. Even now she couldn’t imagine returning to her home. She couldn’t imagine feeling safe inside those walls again.
“And the longer you are exposed to Dryden’s brand of evil, the worse it gets. Believe me. It eats at you until every man you see looks like a killer. Until every stranger’s smile seems like a threat. You can’t enjoy anything, not a sunny day. Not a warm breeze. Not the scent of lilacs.” He closed his eyes and scrubbed his face with his fingers, as if trying to erase images only he could see.
An involuntary shiver claimed her.
“I never wanted that for you. This job, it has taken away all of that from me, but two years ago, you could have been spared. You could have really lived.”
“And that’s why you left.”
Trent nodded. “I couldn’t let my work destroy your life like that. And I couldn’t give up the work.”
Reaching up, Risa touched his jaw. His beard stubble rasped rough as sandpaper under her fingertips. Rough and harsh and dark.
“Then…” Risa’s voice cracked , but she refused to let herself cry. She needed to ask. It had been two years, and she still didn’t know. “What happened? The first time you came to Wisconsin? You said there was a moment. What was it?”
Trent
Trent had never told anyone. He didn’t want to talk about it now. In retrospect, the whole thing seemed trivial. Ridiculous that something so small could cause him to overhaul his life. But at the time…
At the time, it had changed everything. And Risa deserved to know. He should have told her a long time ago. “We tracked Dryden and his wife to the hunting cabin, but we were too late.”
Risa nodded.
She knew all this, of course. How they’d found him displaying her body. How he’d escaped into the forest. How they’d pursued him with dogs, and he’d given himself up. It had dominated the news, not just in the northwoods of Wisconsin, but nationwide. However, the next part hadn’t been in the media reports, not because the FBI had held it back, but because it was so insignificant.
At least to everyone but Trent. “There were a pair of teddy bears… in the cabin.”
“Belonging to his twins?”
“Yeah. And when I saw them…” He couldn’t go on. There was no way to describe what he’d felt. How his upcoming wedding, his plans with Risa… how all of it had suddenly gone so dark.
“When you saw them, you thought of me. You thought of my collection.”
“It’s stupid. Fucking teddy bears.”
Trent expected Risa to be confused. Or maybe angry. Instead, she watched him, her expression thoughtful. “Whatever happened to those little girls?”
“I don’t know. They were adopted. Records sealed.”
“To protect them.”
“Yeah.”
“You can’t protect someone from themselves, Trent.”
She wasn’t talking about Dryden’s twins anymore, Trent knew.
“I should have told you. Should have made you understand.”
“I do now.” Risa raised her hand, placed it on his chest, over his heart.
He could feel the heat of her palm. When she smoothed her hand up and down over his shirt, he leaned into her touch.
As soon as he met her eyes, he knew he was lost, or maybe found, he wasn’t sure anymore. But Trent didn’t wait for her to tilt her face to his, to tiptoe up for a kiss. He circled her with his arms, gathered her tight, and brought his lips to hers.
He’d intended the kiss to be gentle, tender. But as his lips brushed hers, he realized he couldn’t hold back. All the years, all the regrets, none of it mattered. He ran his hand down her arm, over her shoulder, and to her sweet face, trailing his fingertips along her cheek and into the softness of her hair until he cradled the ba
ck of her head in his hand.
Trent’s life had become a lonely hell. A study in perseverance. In deprivation. And he couldn’t change it. He could never change it. But tonight… tonight he could soak in her energy, store it in his heart and use it to beat back the loneliness. Use it to fortify himself, so he could go on.
And he could only hope he could offer the same to Risa.
Her mouth opened to him, soft and pliant and real. She tasted like honey and felt as soft and comforting as a peaceful night. A night of clear skies and the twinkle of stars overhead. A night uninterrupted by nightmares.
It had been so long since he’d allowed himself to feel anything but anger and regret, the sensation was almost painful in its intensity.
And he wanted more.
Tearing his lips from hers, he grasped her hand and led her up the stairs to the guest room. She followed willingly, eagerly. Her gaze latched on to his as if she too was unable to look away.
He led her across the threshold into a room as soft and feminine as Rees herself. Lace dripped from the bed. Candles lined the nightstand. His shoes sank into the thick rug.
The scent of fresh lilacs washed over him in a wave. His stomach constricted. Memories pressed at the back of his eyes, struggling to come to the surface, but he pushed them back.
Tonight wasn’t for remembering. Not the bad, and not even the good. Tonight, he needed to be in the present. To feel everything. To fill himself.
Trent pulled her to him, and her softness molded to his body. Her warmth washed over his skin. And instead of memories of blood and obscenity gliding in the lilac scent’s wake, its sweetness merely enhanced the fragrance of her hair, her skin.
And still he wanted more.
Pulling away from her for just a moment, he pulled his 9mm from his shoulder holster and set it on the bedside table, close enough to reach. Then he unhooked his shoulder holster and shrugged out of his shirt.
Rees moved close. She ran her fingers along his collarbone, over his chest.
Trent pulled her closer and placed her arm around his neck. Running his hands down her sides and around her back, he encircled her, engulfed her, molded her body to his. Her cotton sweater rubbed his bare chest. Her heat penetrated the fabric and seeped into him like the sun’s rays after a long winter chill.
He gathered the knitted cotton in his fingers, grasped the ribbing and lifted the sweater over her head. Moving his fingers along the silk of her skin, he slid the straps of her bra off her shoulders. He released the clasp and pulled the lace and satin free.
Moonlight reached through the lace curtains and accented the perfect roundness of her bare breasts. He covered them with his hands, kneading her softness, teasing her nipples with his fingertips until they tightened into hard nubs.
A moan sounded deep in her chest. A moan of pleasure. A moan of need. Her fingers found the waistband of his slacks. Tentatively she began unbuttoning, as if she expected him to push her away. Again.
“I’m so sorry, Rees.”
She looked up at him. “Sorry?”
“For pulling away yesterday. I never should have done that to you. Not after…”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay.”
“And now?” A tremor rippled through her voice.
“I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Hesitating.”
“Kinda.”
“I don’t mean to.” He almost apologized again, but before the words left his lips, he realized how worthless another apology would be. This wasn’t the time for words. It was the moment for action.
Trent folded her hands in his, stilling her fingers. And instead of speaking, he kissed her, long and deep, then swept her up in his arms. He set her down on the bed, and when she tried to reach for his fly again, he cupped her head gently in his hands.
“My turn first.” Kissing her again, he inched her back onto the sheets.
He knelt on the bed, straddling her, a knee on either side. He kissed her slowly, savoring every nip of her lips and caress of her tongue. Then he worked his way over her jaw, down her neck, and focused on her breasts. Circling one nipple with his tongue, then the other. Suckling one, then the other. Nipping. Flicking.
“Oh,” Risa said, but he could feel the sound vibrating in her chest more than hear it.
Trent pinched one nipple with his fingers, then sucked it hard into his mouth. He could play with her breasts forever. Watching them. Sucking them. Making her arch her back for more.
But he wanted to give her more than that.
He moved lower, littering kisses over her belly, letting his breath caress her. He wanted her softness around him. Her wetness. Her heat. But he wasn’t going to rush. He wanted to move slowly. To savor. To make the moment last.
A moment they might never have again.
He was hard now. Impossibly hard and heavy. And he could feel the contours of her body brushing underneath him as he moved. Her abdomen, the hinge of her thighs, her long, long legs. Each sensation giving him a little jolt. Making him know what it meant to be alive.
Trent cradled her hips with his hands and swirled his tongue in her navel.
Risa sucked in a breath, her back arching, her breasts rising and falling.
He moved lower, over her abdomen, over her mound. He found the cleft in her thighs and flicked her with the tip of his tongue.
“Oh,” she said on a breath.
Trent moved lower. He looped his arms under her legs, spread her thighs wide, then he settled his body between them. He could smell her excitement. Her need for him. And he smiled. “I’ve missed this.”
“So have I.”
“I’ve missed you.”
“I love you, Trent. I always have.”
He knew that. He knew it, but he hadn’t let himself think of it. Not for a long time. Even now, he couldn’t think. He could only feel. He could only do.
He drew in a deep breath of her and then flicked his tongue.
A low coo rose from her chest.
She tasted just how he remembered. Warm and fresh and so erotic he thought he would lose control.
With a fat tongue, he caressed her, long and slow, one side then the other. He moved lightly at first, a mere feathering of pressure, then as his excitement build, he intensified his stroke.
Longer.
Harder.
Deeper.
Risa groaned, tilting her hips. One side, then the other, trying to capture him. Claim the pleasure. But whatever way she moved, he teased the other side. Flicking then licking. Flicking then licking. He wanted to make her want him more. He wanted to drive her out of her mind.
He wanted to hear her beg.
Trent pulled back from her, just a centimeter, maybe two. Risa was breathtaking from this angle. Her open legs, her erect nipples. He wanted to take his pleasure now. Plunge into her and thrust until he reached his peace. But that wasn’t enough for him. Not nearly enough.
Opening his mouth, he breathed heavily, directing the exhale on the center of her desire.
At first she tilted her hips toward him, straining for his mouth. Then she sat up on her elbows. “Trent?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you okay?”
“Just enjoying the view.”
She laughed, a little self-consciously, then tilted her hips toward him again.
“Well, aren’t you eager.”
“You make me that way.”
“Do you want me to lick you, Risa?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want me to make you come.”
“Um, yes.”
Trent knew he could make her do better than that. He knew he could torment her. Giving and withdrawing. Giving and withdrawing. Making her desperate for him. Making her writhe and beg.
But he’d done enough of that already. Enough pushing her away. Enough denying them both. They could get a call any moment. The sheriff’s department. The FBI. The sound of a window breaking downstairs.
He wasn’t going to mis
s this chance.
Trent licked, teased, then he ground his mouth into her, not just licking her but devouring. Hard. Deep. Putting his whole body into it. Everything he was.
A shudder worked through her body, rippling up her torso, curling through her legs. She spread her legs even wider, meeting his tongue.
Another shudder shook her. Then another.
Risa gripped the back of his head, her fingers digging into his scalp. She held him to her and moved against his mouth, his whole face, riding him. She shuddered again and called out. And when her body finally released, finally relaxed, she grasped his shoulders and pulled him up to her. “I want you, Trent. Please. I want you inside me.”
He moved up her body, his chest pressing against her breasts, his lips claiming her mouth. And when he sank deep into her, he felt as if he was coming home.
Nikki
Nikki hadn’t liked the musty, isolated cabin one bit, but it was better than this place.
It was an old two-story house, set back a little from a quiet, country road. The walls were painted lemon yellow, cheerier than the morning sun outside. The floors all hardwood and soft, patterned rugs. Artwork hung on the walls, homemade, but a step up from paint-by-number. And photographs lined the mantle. Children. Vacations. Weddings where every guest wore a happy face.
Horrible.
“You didn’t have to kill them, Eddie.”
Eddie didn’t even look at her or the dead couple he’d made her help him drag to the steps leading down to the basement. “And what was I supposed to do? Keep them around so grandma could make you cookies and grandpa could teach you to play euchre?”
“What’s euchre?”
He shot her an annoyed look, and she figured he wasn’t going to answer.
“You said something about the FBI. They aren’t coming here, are they?”
“The FBI is far too worried about your sister.”
“Risa? Is she okay?”
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. Of course, I don’t.”
“She doesn’t care about you.”
Nikki knew that. She’d suspected it since her sister had left to live with her father. And the way Risa had reacted to Nikki’s happiness at marrying Eddie had made her certain.
Lethal (Small Town Secrets Book 1) Page 15