by Gerri Hill
“Oh, come on. I saw that hug last night.” He leaned closer. “I saw the kiss too.”
She felt her face blush and she turned away from him. Yeah…there’d been a hug. And a kiss. That had been when she and Dee were being hauled away in an ambulance. Rylee had to stay behind. Because Rylee had shot a man.
“Has she been by yet?”
“Yeah. She came by last night. Or early this morning, I guess.”
Rylee had come to her room, closed the door and—without a word—had crawled into bed with her. And cried. And cried some more. Finn had held her tightly, letting Rylee cry on her shoulder. She was obviously exhausted, both mentally and physically. It was two in the morning and when her tears finally dried up, she’d fallen into a deep sleep. Finn had simply held her, letting her mind go blank, pushing out all thoughts as her eyes closed, letting Rylee’s even breathing lull her to sleep as well.
When a nurse woke her at six, though, Rylee was gone.
“Is she going to pick you up?”
Was she? Finn hadn’t called her. For that matter, she didn’t even know where she was. Did she go to her apartment? Or did she go by the house to check on Smokey?
“I don’t know,” she answered honestly. “I want to check on Dee. I’ll worry about a ride later.”
He nodded, then handed her a card. “That’s my cell. Call me if you need a ride. Better yet, call me anyway. We’ll grab a beer sometime, catch up.”
“Yeah…we kinda lost touch, huh.” She smiled at him. “Have I thanked you for…well, for everything? Last night was all kind of a blur.”
“Just doing my job, Finn. We didn’t exactly save the day, though.”
“We were late to the party, yeah. At least it wasn’t your guys who killed those hostages.”
“It makes no sense. Why kill them?”
“It’ll all come out, I suppose.”
“You know, don’t you?”
“Yes. I imagine Dee and I will be meeting with the FBI soon. It’s a damn mess, I’ll tell you that.”
“It’s maybe better I don’t know.” He touched her shoulder. “You call me.”
“I will. Thanks, Sparks.”
She watched him walk away, then took a deep breath before pocketing his card. Yeah, she’d probably call him, catch up, like he said.
She walked on, finding Dee’s room. She knocked lightly, then pushed the door open. Dee was awake and she turned her head, smiling as she motioned for her to enter.
“About damn time you came by,” she said, her voice raspy. Then she saw the bandage across her nose. “Yeah…looks good, Finn. He got a good punch in.”
“That bastard,” she murmured. “I just got sprung. How long you in for?”
Dee closed her eyes and smiled. “I hope a really long time. You should see my nurse.”
Finn laughed. “Got a cutie, huh? I wasn’t so lucky.”
“Not only cute, but she’s flirting with me. A lot.”
“Yeah, right. You look a hot mess.”
Dee groaned. “God…don’t say that.” She leaned her head back against the pillow. “My hair’s all over the place, right? I suppose surgery will do that.”
She pulled a chair closer and sat down. “How do you feel? Sparks said your arm was tore up pretty good.”
“Yeah, but the doc said it looked worse than it was. He said I should recover, but at my age,” she said, pausing to roll her eyes, “I’ll lose some strength. Good news, the bone was only nicked. No bone graft, no additional surgeries.”
“Good.” Then Finn grinned. “And the other injury?”
“What about it? I got shot in the ass. It hurts worse than my arm.”
Finn’s smile faded. “Mabanks?”
Dee met her gaze. “It was pretty awful. I…I felt like…well, like when you hear about terrorists kidnapping someone, then holding them to be executed.” She looked away, staring at the wall instead. “They shot Stevens. He was trying to negotiate with them. Then Barbara— Mabanks’ wife—kinda went hysterical. They shot her. Then…well, the captain…” She looked back at her. “I had resolved…well, I knew what the end would be for all of us. I was…numb, I think.” She swallowed. “How did you know where we were?”
“Something I heard Drake say when we were on the boat.”
“Oh, that’s right. You took a swim in the bay. How was it?”
“Cold.”
“Rylee?”
Finn shrugged. “She’s okay, I guess.”
“You guess? She killed a man. She’s probably going through all sorts of hell.”
“Yeah…I’m about to call her.”
Dee leaned back against the pillow and let out a weary breath. “She’ll be good for you, Finn. Don’t run her off.”
“Not going to run her off.” She paused. “We…we kinda have a history. I didn’t tell you, but…well, early summer, we kinda…”
“You kinda what?”
“We met at a bar.”
Dee smiled. “You slept with her? You old dog. I thought there was something too familiar between the two of you.”
“I think…I think it could be special.” She met Dee’s gaze. “I’ve never had that before, you know. And she’s young. But…”
“She’s thirty, you’re forty…that’s nothing. And from what I remember, it’s really nice to have someone, Finn.” She flipped her hand over, and Finn took it, feeling Dee squeeze her fingers. “Thanks for coming by. Now get the hell out of here and go find her. It’s time for me to buzz my cute nurse.”
Finn smiled at her. “Tell her your ass hurts. Maybe you’ll get a massage or something.”
“Good idea. I’ll try it.”
Finn squeezed her hand before standing. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Dee. As you know…me and friends…”
“Yeah. Soon as I get sprung from here, we’ll do dinner. I’m not going to disappear, Finn. And I won’t let you disappear either.”
Finn nodded. “Thanks.”
“Now go find Rylee.”
Chapter Seventy
Finn’s house didn’t look much different in the light of day than it had last night. Rylee drove past three police cars, then pulled into the driveway, the gate wide open as they’d left it last night. What was different this morning was the crime scene tape that was up. The officers’ bodies had obviously been taken, but their car was still there, doors open, several cops still milling around.
She stood inside Finn’s living room, feeling the breeze hitting her as it blew in through the opening where the bay window once was. The morning was still cloudy, but the fog had disappeared.
“Ma’am…I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be in here. We’re still processing.”
She nodded at the officer. “Just picking up a few things. And a cat,” she added, wondering how Smokey had fared. “Be out of here in a second.”
She’d already gone by her apartment and showered and changed into clean clothes. Actually, she’d gone to her apartment and had a good cry. Another one.
She’d killed a man. A monster of a man, but nonetheless, she’d pulled the trigger. During the interviews last night, she’d been calm, collected. When the police had learned that Drake was the one who killed their two officers, they’d gone out of their way to make her as comfortable as possible. In fact, by the time it was all over with, she’d been treated more like a celebrity than anything else.
But then it hit her. She killed a man.
She’d gone to Finn…who else was she going to go to? But she didn’t want to talk. Thankfully, Finn never questioned her. She opened her arms, and Rylee had buried herself there and cried.
She wasn’t sure why she’d left this morning…left before Finn woke up. As she’d stood at the door, watching Finn, she had a recollection of that morning at the motel. It was much the same, wasn’t it? Whatever she got from Finn that night, it wasn’t just sex. She knew it then as she knew it now.
It was almost as if they were connected somehow, on another level. As if they’d
known each other all their lives. Or as if they’d known each other in a previous life.
That thought made her smile and she finally moved down the hallway toward Finn’s bedroom. A previous life? No, she wasn’t one of those crazy people who believed things like that. No.
But…there was something between them that couldn’t be explained. One hot summer night in June couldn’t have bonded them like they were. And working together a month now, that surely wasn’t enough time.
A month? She pulled her phone from her pocket, her brows drawn together. December 22. Already? Christmas was upon them and she hadn’t even noticed. Christmas…and her birthday.
Yes, she supposed she had noticed. A few Christmas lights here and there, decorations in yards. It was different in Corpus, though. It was warm and tropical some days, cool and damp others. Not the Christmas weather she was used to.
Maybe that was it. Or maybe it had just snuck upon her. It wasn’t like they’d had idle time the last few weeks.
She pushed open Finn’s door, finding Smokey curled up against the pillows on the bed. She raised her head, startled.
“Hey, girl…just me.” She sat down on the bed, rubbing Smokey’s head, listening to the comforting purr. “How about we go back to the office, huh?”
She didn’t know where else to go. They couldn’t stay here. And her small apartment? No. They’d all be more comfortable at the office. It felt a little awkward to be rummaging through Finn’s drawers and closet, but she knew Finn would need clean clothes. Two pairs of jeans, some T-shirts, two sweatshirts, a sweater. She found her drawers to be as neat as everything else in the house and hesitated only a second before grabbing undies and a couple of bras.
She had Finn’s car. She supposed after she had Smokey settled at the office, she’d head back to the hospital. Surely they wouldn’t keep Finn. She’d been surprised that they’d kept her last night, but it was probably more of a precaution than anything else.
She should have stayed. She should have asked Finn last night how she was. She shouldn’t have run again.
She didn’t really run, though. She just wasn’t ready to talk.
Because she killed a man.
It hit her again like a ton of bricks…her chest tight, her heart aching. She sunk down onto Finn’s bed, burying her head in her hands as her tears came again.
She killed someone.
Chapter Seventy-One
“I’m…I’m fine. I’m all cried out, I think.”
Finn shoved her hands in her pockets, watching as Rylee unloaded the two grocery sacks, putting things into the fridge. Her hands moved in a nervous motion, but Finn didn’t say anything.
“And I thought I’d cook. Something simple, but still…not takeout.” She paused in her task. “Okay…I’m not fine. I…I can’t shake it. I can’t…” Rylee looked at her, wiping at a tear that escaped. “I feel…I feel…heavy,” she said, touching her heart.
“I wish I had some words of wisdom for you, but I don’t.”
“You ever…you ever kill anyone?”
Finn shook her head. “I did shoot a suspect once. Third year on the force. He was eighteen, just a kid. I stayed at the hospital that whole first day, so afraid he’d die.”
“What did he do?” Rylee asked in a whisper.
“Robbed a convenience store…had a gun.” Finn moved to her and pulled her into a tight hug. “You did nothing wrong, Rylee. You did everything right.” She closed her eyes, feeling Rylee cling to her, hearing her quiet tears. “I should have been the one to shoot him, not you. I lost my gun in the shuffle and I…damn, it happened so fast.”
“He was going to kill me,” Rylee murmured. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No. You did everything right.”
They stood there in Sammy’s old kitchen, holding each other tightly. Finn let her mind go blank, keeping her eyes closed as Rylee moved deeper into her arms. Seconds passed…maybe minutes. Then Rylee loosened her grip on her, finally pulling out of her arms. “Thank you. That was nice.” She wiped at her eyes. “Okay. I think I’m cried out now.”
“Yes. That was really nice.” Finn smiled. “So…you’re going to cook, huh?”
“I am.” Rylee touched her face. “You look…lovely.”
“I have bruises under both eyes and my nose feels like it’s twice as big as it should be. Not lovely.”
Rylee tilted her head. “Do you think it’s going to hurt when we kiss?”
“Are we going to kiss?”
Rylee leaned forward, touching her lips lightly with her own. “I want to kiss. I want to make love, Finn. I want to be with you. I need to be with you.”
Finn met her gaze. “Okay…it won’t hurt a bit.”
* * *
It was different…yet it was almost the same. Different…it was noon, not midnight in some dark hotel room. The same, though, as she pulled Finn close, their skin touching…the act seeming more familiar than it should.
It had been six months. It could have been yesterday.
“I’ve thought about this so often,” she whispered against Finn’s lips. “So often.”
And she had. At night, alone, when she closed her eyes…the woman from the bar—the woman who had taken her breath away—would haunt her dreams. Who would have thought that fate would throw them together again?
Finn rested her weight on top of her, nudging her legs apart as she settled between them. Rylee opened willingly, pulling Finn as close as possible. She closed her eyes, feeling Finn’s tongue shyly meet her own.
Shy? No. There was no place for shy between them. Rylee let her tongue dance with Finn’s and she heard the quiet moan that mingled with her own. This wasn’t the time to be shy and it wasn’t the time for words. The throbbing between her thighs begged for attention and she arched against Finn.
But Finn wouldn’t be hurried. She left her mouth, her kisses trailing across her breasts, lips nibbling softly before capturing her nipple. Rylee moaned with pleasure, lying back, letting Finn take her time in loving her. But still…wishing she’d hurry.
Finn surprised her by leaving her breast, coming back to her mouth, kissing her almost tenderly.
“I feel like I’m dreaming.”
“You’re not dreaming.” She smiled against Finn’s lips. “Although I admit, this has been a dream of mine since June.”
“I wish you hadn’t left that morning.”
“God…me too.” She pulled Finn back to her mouth. “Stop talking.”
It was Finn’s turn to smile against her lips, but she said nothing else. Instead, her hand moved between them, sliding slowly across her skin. Rylee’s hips rose, seeking that hand, those fingers.
Her head rolled back as Finn entered her, her eyes slammed shut. Yes, she could be dreaming, she thought. She’d pictured this moment so often—Finn inside her, her wetness spilling out. But no, she wasn’t dreaming. She opened wider, hips arching, bringing Finn even deeper inside her.
She was panting now, her breath coming in short bursts, her hips rocking, her hands clutching Finn to her. Finn’s mouth was nibbling at her neck, finally moving to her ear, her tongue delving inside. She moaned loudly, her body on fire as Finn pounded into her. She lay back, her mouth opened wide, her eyes closed, her body nearly convulsing when her orgasm hit. She squeezed her legs tight, holding Finn inside, her scream muffled as she buried her head against Finn’s shoulder. Little by little, she relaxed…her legs opening, her arms loosening their grip, her hands falling away…
Was she dreaming?
Soft, light kisses on her skin, murmured words she couldn’t decipher, eyes that refused to open.
Was she dreaming?
No. Her heart felt full…felt about to burst open. She tried to smile through the tears, but she couldn’t. She tried to stop the tears…but she couldn’t do that either.
It was simply too much.
Chapter Seventy-Two
The crime scene tape had been removed, and from the outside, her house loo
ked perfectly normal. The inside, however, was a different story.
“I didn’t notice the bullet holes in the wall yesterday,” Rylee said as she walked in ahead of her.
Finn had already called someone to repair the bay window. They would be there at one, they’d said. Now she supposed she’d have to hire someone to patch and paint the walls. Maybe now would be a good time to change colors. Maybe Rylee would like to have some input.
Her gaze went to the bar and she felt her heart clench, her breath nearly leaving her. Her father’s glass lay on the top, shattered. She walked over to it, staring in disbelief. She didn’t realize she had tears running down her face until Rylee touched her arm.
“The…the glass,” she said stupidly.
Rylee rubbed her back soothingly. “I’m sorry, Finn. I know how much it meant to you.”
Finn nodded and picked up a piece, her tears dripping on it.
Rylee said nothing, just kept a hand on her back as she cried. Finn tried to make the tears stop. She hadn’t cried in forever. Not until Sammy died. And now? It was ridiculous to cry over a damn broken scotch glass.
“You never cried when he died, did you?” Rylee guessed.
No. She wasn’t really crying over the broken glass, was she?
“I was too angry to cry. Angry at her. Angry at him.” She dropped the glass back on the bar and wiped at her tears. “He was never around. I didn’t get to be with him much. This was going to be our chance. To work together…to be together…finally.” She rubbed the corners of her eyes, then shook her head. “God…sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.”
“Damn near twenty years ago. Too late for tears now.” She cleared her throat. “I’m fine.”
Rylee turned to face her. “Tears make us human, Finn. Tears can be cleansing, healing.”
Finn met her gaze, remembering the tears in Rylee’s eyes when they’d made love, remembering the nearly desperate hold she’d had on her. She hadn’t questioned the tears then, hadn’t even acknowledged them.
“And your tears last night?” she asked gently.
“Do you really want to know?”