I woke this morning still wanting her.
My head was full of her. Shit, I couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face when I pushed my fingers in her pussy, the way she went wild, how beautiful she looked when she came for me, coating my fingers, giving me everything.
I wanted her still. I didn’t think I’d ever stop wanting her.
Which meant my theory of getting her off but not fucking her had been monumentally flawed. It sure as hell didn’t feel less complicated to me.
She turned to me. “So how long can they keep Ferida in custody?”
“They have footage of him wearing the murdered pizza worker’s clothes and of him walking into your shop, how long he was in there, running down the street afterwards. He’s not going anywhere. The hair the police collected at the scene will match this fucker’s DNA and prove he attacked you and murdered that guy as well. I promise you, London, he can’t get to you.”
She didn’t say anything else until we pulled up outside her store. I had to double park. Still, I went to climb out, to walk her in, but she reached over and curled her fingers around my forearm, stopping me. She shook her head. “I’m good from here.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, but she needed to know how fucking special she was. “London…”
She smiled so wide and beautiful, whatever I was going to say died in my throat.
“Thank you, Van.”
I shook my head. I wished she’d stop thanking me.
“You’ve been there for me when I had no one else.” She blushed, but for once she didn’t look down or hide her beautiful blue eyes. “And last night…it was the best night of my life. I’m so glad I got to share that with you. You’re the best man I’ve ever known, Van King.”
She leaned in and pressed her lips to mine. I sat there, stunned silent for a moment. When I finally leaned in to kiss her back, because I couldn’t not, she was pulling away. I wanted to tug her back so bad I almost did.
“Goodbye,” she said and climbed out of the car, walking away without looking back.
I sat there for a hell of a lot longer than I should, fighting the urge to go in after her.
But in the end, I did what needed to, for London.
I drove away.
* * *
London
My apartment seemed so quiet. Deafening in its silence.
I hadn’t been there for a week. It felt like a year. Everything felt different. I felt different.
“You want my fingers inside you, baby? You want to ride them?”
Zaps like little electric shocks zipped through my lower belly, like they did whenever I thought of what we’d done.
Stop it.
No good would come from overanalyzing it, every word, every touch. Somehow I needed to put it aside. Think of it as the goodbye it had been.
I forced myself to go through the motions, showered, and changed into tights and an old T-shirt. It was pink and had big faded roses across the chest. Then I occupied myself by changing the sheets on my bed and making a light dinner, even though I wasn’t actually hungry, and forcing myself to eat it.
I ended up pacing around my apartment. There was this restlessness inside me I didn’t know what to do with.
For so long, I hadn’t been living, I’d been existing. When I walked out of the hospital and back into my life, I hadn’t known it but I’d stopped trying. I’d given up on real happiness.
Then fate had seen fit to throw even more at me, and I was starting to think maybe it was for a reason. If not that, it was certainly one hell of a wake-up call.
What happened to me this last week, the fear, the helplessness I’d felt living through it, weirdly felt like a second chance. Like the universe had given me a shake and screamed at me, “You survived. Someone tried to take it all away again, but you survived. Start living.”
I wanted to. I just had no idea where to begin.
Someone knocked on the door and my heart kicked behind my ribs, stuttered, tripping over itself. I knew who I wanted it to be. I also knew there was no way it was him.
I checked through the peephole, disengaged the new alarm system that I’d discovered when Van brought me here to drop off my stuff earlier, and unlocked and opened the door.
I smiled. “Detective.”
“Connor, remember,” he said, his warm gaze meeting mine.
I didn’t duck my head despite the urge to. “Connor,” I said.
His gaze drifted down then slid back up. Not in a sleazy way—he didn’t linger or make me feel uncomfortable—but there was definitely interest in his eyes when they met mine again.
“You have a minute?”
A sick feeling curled in my belly. “Has something happened?”
“No. We’re still waiting on DNA results. I just…I wanted to see how you were doing.”
I liked Detective Daniels. He was a nice guy and, I realized, very good looking—not that I hadn’t noticed that before. I also trusted him. “Do you want to come in?”
His brown eyes softened. “Sure.”
I opened the door wider and he followed me in. “Drink?”
He seemed to mull this over for a lot longer than was necessary but finally shook his head. “I’m just gonna spit this out, no point skipping around it. I think I might have already missed my shot here, but I’m gonna say it anyway. I’m attracted to you, London, have been for a while actually, and I wondered if you’d like to go out sometime.”
That was not what I’d been expecting, not at all. “Ah…” I shut my mouth, trying to think of an answer. Did I? Want to go out with Detective…Connor sometime?
I’d spent two years fantasizing about what I wanted, stalled out, coasted, waited for something I couldn’t have. I’d waited for Van. I’d wasted two years living in some fantasy, letting my imagination fill the emptiness inside me. Van made it clear that he couldn’t give me more, that it wasn’t what he wanted. It hurt, it did, and it would for a long time, but I wasn’t going to waste another two years wishing things were different, that my life was different. That Van wanted me the way I wanted him.
I wanted to be happy now.
“Yes, I’d like that,” I said, and going by the look on his face, surprising us both.
He grinned. “Yeah?”
I nodded.
“You free for lunch Wednesday?”
I smiled back and it was genuine. “I am.”
He dipped his chin. “I’ll swing by the store and pick you up.”
“Sounds good.”
He couldn’t stay, and when he left I was still trying to work out how I felt about our lunch date. I wasn’t sure if happy was the word. More determined.
* * *
“That’s perfect, London,” Ruby said, her arm going around my throat. “This is called a rear headlock. Now you need to get out of it.”
Ruby and I had been texting and she’d offered to give me a few self-defense lessons. We were at the agency, but it was after hours so no one was really there. Neco was working in his office, and I’d heard someone leave a little while ago, so we basically had the place to ourselves, which I appreciated. I wasn’t ready to see Van again just yet.
“You need to protect your airway, so start by turning your head toward the side your attacker is choking you. Grab my arm with both hands, fingers on the inside near your chin.”
I did what she said. Ruby was small, but she was extremely strong and there was no way I was getting out of her hold.
She explained how to create a space by tucking my chin down so I could get my fingers between her arm and my chin.
“Now sink down into my hold by bending your knees,” she said and tapped one of my legs. “Step back and lock your foot around my leg, calf to calf. Back curved forward. Now bend your knees and turn toward this foot.” She tapped my leg again. “Your hands should still be on my arm. That’ll get you out. Next, I’ll show you how to throw them to the ground. Let’s run through this a couple more times.”
We did an
d when I next looked at the time, we’d been at it for an hour.
Neco poked his head around the door. “How’s it going?”
Ruby beamed at me. “She kicked ass.”
Neco grinned. “Don’t doubt it.”
“London’s just got to get changed and we’ll be ready to head home.”
Ruby’s fiancé dipped his chin and left.
“And if all else fails and you can’t get free, head butt the prick. He sure as hell won’t be expecting it.”
I chuckled. “Thanks for this. I really appreciate it.”
“I know what it’s like to have your power taken from you,” Ruby said. “Learning to really defend myself, it helped me get my confidence back. We’ll make this a regular thing if you like?”
I didn’t know her full story, but I knew she’d been through some things that were pretty bad. From what Van had said, I got the feeling Ruby wasn’t the only one of the women I’d met through the agency who’d had a tough time. “I’d really like that.”
“Awesome,” she said. “You’re on. I’ll just wait out at reception. Come out when you’re done.”
Ruby had met me here in her workout clothes and didn’t have to change. She and Neco had also offered to give me a ride home.
She headed out and I hustled to the women’s locker room to change. I heard music start a few minutes later out in the gym. It was loud, heavy, bassy. Maybe Neco had decided to work out first?
I quickly changed, grabbed my bag, swung it over my shoulder, and walked out.
Nope. Not Neco.
Van.
He was shirtless, hands wrapped and curled into fists. His expression was fierce, and he was punching the bag hanging to one side of the room with a force so hard I jolted every time his fist made contact with the black leather. He must have come in right after I walked out to change, because there was already a sheen of sweat coating his upper body.
He growled and smashed the bag again, harder than before, and I jumped.
His head twisted toward me sharply and he froze. “London?” He dropped his hands, and grabbed his phone, turned down the music then started toward me. “What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
I managed a nod, at least I think I did. How was I supposed to function when I was faced with a sweaty, intense, shirtless, drop-dead sexy Van King?
“London?” he said again, more urgently. “Are you okay?”
I shook myself out of my lust-induced stupor and nodded. “Yes.” I was talking too loud again. “Ruby offered some self-defense lessons and I took her up on it.”
He rubbed a hand over his hair, causing his biceps to bunch really nicely. “Yeah?”
“Yep.”
“How did it go?”
He’d moved closer. “I loved it. She’s an excellent teacher.”
His stare had grown darker. “I’m glad. It’s a good idea.”
“I thought so.”
“You doing okay?”
It had only been a day since I’d last seen him. “Yep. Doing great!” Now I sounded like an excited Chihuahua.
He grinned and tucked my hair behind my ear.
I stilled and so did he.
I wanted to reach up and kiss him, but that would be a terrible idea because nothing would change. Van still wouldn’t want more than what we’d shared on his couch. I couldn’t do that to myself.
I dropped my gaze to his chin. “It was good to see you,” I said, again too brightly.
“London—”
“I better go. Ruby’s waiting.”
I spun away and rushed out.
* * *
We ate at a little café around the corner from my store. It was nice. Connor was nice. Attentive, attractive, funny. I liked him. A lot.
When we walked out, he took my hand and we headed back to the store. It felt strange, but I let him. Finding your happy, remember! He smiled down at me and I smiled back.
We hadn’t talked much about my case, only that he should have the DNA results later that day, and after that he avoided the subject completely, which I appreciated. I tried my best to stay upbeat, to ask questions, make eye contact—all things I’d learned to help make my difficulties in social situations easier. I thought it was working, but it was hard to stay focused. Despite Terrence Ferida being behind bars, I hadn’t been sleeping.
But thinking about him and what could have happened wasn’t the only thing keeping me awake…
“I had a nice time,” he said, pulling me to a stop outside my store. “Look, I shouldn’t be doing this, I’m still working your case, but I’d like to see you again.”
I could see Erin inside serving a customer.
When I looked back at him, he was staring down at me, waiting for my answer. He really was a great guy. I wanted to want this so bad. But forcing it wouldn’t be fair on either of us. “I’m not sure…”
He leaned in and brushed his lips over mine, soft and sweet. Nice. But there were no sparks, no chemistry. I didn’t feel like I might explode if I didn’t get closer to him, like I did when Van kissed me.
“Connor…”
He cupped the side of my face, thumb sliding across my jaw, and cursed softly. “Yeah, I waited too long,” he muttered.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
He smiled down at me gently. “Not your fault, London. I only have myself to blame.” He tucked my hair behind my ear, like Van had done the day before, and suddenly I wanted to cry. “Thanks for lunch, honey,” he said when he lifted his head. “No matter what, I’m here if you need me, okay? No strings.” He straightened and walked away.
I watched him go then pushed the door open. What the hell was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I want what was good for me? Connor would be so easy. Everything with him would be easy. Safe.
Erin grinned at me. “Good lunch?”
“It was nice.” There was that word again.
“It’s been pretty quiet here,” Erin said. “I sent off this morning’s orders and printed off a couple more that came in. Oh, and a package arrived for you. I put it in the back.”
I left her with a customer and went into the office. There was a large box wrapped in brown paper sitting on the floor, with the shop’s address scrawled on the top.
I grabbed my scissors and cut through the tape. There was a lot of it. It wasn’t a box but a Styrofoam cooler, the kind we had delicate or rare flowers like orchids and lilies delivered in. There was tape all around the seal, so I ran the blade of the scissors around it and pulled off the lid.
The smell hit me first, so bad I fell back. Something was wrapped in a blanket. Blue with tiny white bones. Heathcliff’s blanket. The one I’d buried him in.
I screamed and scrambled from the room on my hands and knees. Erin looked down at me, startled.
“Call the police,” I said, sobs my clogging throat. Climbing to my knees, I pushed the back-room door shut. The customer with Erin ran out instantly. Somehow I got to my feet, and on shaky legs I followed and locked the door after them.
Then I broke down, covered my face with my hands, and cried.
The next thing I knew, Erin was unlocking the door and I was being pulled into Connor’s arms as Erin told the uniformed officers with him where to find the box.
He took my shoulders, looking down at me. “Breathe, London. Come on, honey.”
My entire body was trembling. I needed something to ground me. I thought it was over. This was too much. Just too damned much.
A car pulled up across the street, a familiar one. The door opened and Van climbed out, eyes somehow instantly finding me through the store window. He strode over, putting up a hand to stop a car—literally stopping traffic, ignoring everything around him.
He strode in, dark eyes looking nowhere else, only at me. “Come here,” he said.
And I did. Everything in me needed him, needed to feel his arms around me. He pulled me in tight. “Daniels,” I heard him say over my head.
Connor muttered something in reply
then headed to the back of the shop, joining the other officers.
“What’s back there, baby?” Van said against the top of my head.
I squeezed my eyes closed. “Someone…dug up Heathcliff.” A sob broke free. “Oh God, someone dug him up. They sent him to me.”
He cursed, and it was raw and filled with so much anger I flinched.
Van didn’t say much after that, but he didn’t let me go, simply kept me tight against his side while we waited for the police to finish what they were doing. When Connor came back a short time later, his eyes shifted between Van and I and his jaw clenched.
“It was sent yesterday,” he said.
I felt Van still, going on full alert. “What the fuck is going on?”
Connor shook his head. “This doesn’t make sense.”
“Is Ferida talking?”
Connor’s gaze darted to me then back to Van. “No. He’s not said one damn thing.”
Terrence Ferida couldn’t have sent it, not from prison, which meant they had the wrong man or Ferida wasn’t working alone.
“I don’t want you home alone, understand, London? At no time should you be on your own, not until we know what the hell is going on here,” Connor said to me, then to Van he added, “You’ll make sure of that, I take it?”
There was something in his voice, something I’d never heard before but was hard to miss. Van didn’t either. “London won’t leave my side, day or night,” he said, voice deeper, the implication clear.
Connor held Van’s hard stare for several long seconds, then he dipped his chin, gaze coming to me. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I know more.” He walked away.
Erin agreed to stay and lock up, and Van ushered me out the door.
“How?” I whispered when I climbed into his car. “Who the hell is doing this to me?”
Van turned to me, expression harder than I’d ever seen. His fury burned from his eyes, a wild inferno. “I will find out, London.”
Merciless King: A Lawless Kings Novel Page 9