She dropped back into the cushion as if the fear weighed her down. “Why? This doesn’t make any sense.”
“I want to show you a picture of the victim. I know this is difficult.” She clasped her hands so tightly that her knuckles turned white. He fought the urge to reach over and comfort her, but he couldn’t allow himself to get caught up in his emotions again. He needed to keep steel bars around his heart—keep the protection in place. She needed him to find the attackers, not hold her hand and tell her all would be okay.
“I don’t think I’ll be any help, but I’ll look.”
Taking the picture from his pocket, he laid it on the table. He watched her examine the mug shot closer, seeing no signs of recognition in her expression, which wasn’t shocking. The men had taken great effort in keeping their identity anonymous just in case they screwed up. After several tense seconds, she looked at him and shook her head. “I don’t recognize him.”
He nodded, replaced the picture and scratched his temple in irritation. Not at her, but he was never good at handling cases where he couldn’t find the source. “He doesn’t look familiar in any way? His street name was Fester.”
“No.” She folded her arms over her chest, a quiver to her bottom lip, but there was a strength in the tilt of her chin that told him she was still the spunky woman he knew. Every time he looked at her he was reminded of a better time when he had the right to kiss her any time he wanted. Why couldn’t he just scoop out all those emotions? There had to be a point where his heart caught up to his head and he was out from under the Lauren spell. “You think the killer put the clipping in the victim’s pocket?”
“That’s a theory.”
“A theory? You’ve never worked with theories before.” She sniffed loudly, her gaze meeting his, searching for an answer he couldn’t give.
“The killer called in the tip and planted the clipping for me to find it. Like I said, nothing ever is as it seems.” He was a perfect example of that phrase. He’d been sitting there with her a good twenty minutes and he’d held himself together like a man with iron nerves.
The area between her brows scrunched and she sighed. “This feels like a game of cat and mouse,” she said so softy that her words reached in and grabbed his heart. “Right?”
There was one thing he could always count on with her, she cut straight to the chase. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also smart. And a damn good investigator. Many times when he had hit a roadblock in a case he’d asked for her help. They had made a great team. They never lacked in conversation. They’d spend countless nights staying up and talking about their future, their goals and growing old together.
She reached down, grabbed the hem of her sweatshirt and pulled it over her head. He’d tried not to notice, done his damn best, but his eyes were drawn to the silken line of her throat that he’d enjoyed kissing, to the gentle dip between her collar bones that he knew was very sensitive to his tongue. The tank top cupped her breasts in a way that made him envious.
He blew out a long breath. He needed to keep his dick out of the equation.
“That’s a long hesitation.” She blinked. “You’re not here because you think I’m involved, are you? I was with ranger at the gym all evening.”
“Ranger?” he snapped a little harshly.
“The man who found me, remember? He owns a gym and he’s helped me with self-defense techniques.”
Why did he feel a trigger deep in his gut? Jealousy? Shit! He rubbed the stress lines from his forehead. He needed to get a grip. Otherwise, he was bound to make a fool of himself like he did when he stormed in and broke up her wedding to the rich attorney. “I know you’re not the killer,” he muttered and tore a hand through his hair.
“Is the killer using me to get to you?”
In better control now, he shrugged. “We’re messing with some serious shit here. I’m weighing on the cautious side until we have proof.”
“You knew I wouldn’t be able to identify the man. Did you come here to warn me? Or save me?” Her eyes reached straight into his core and he couldn’t erect his walls fast enough.
“Lauren, I made you a promise long ago that I’d always protect you.” He acknowledged that his voice was thick with emotion. It was difficult for a man to be strong and tough when the woman who owned his heart sat across from him looking like she needed a shoulder to lean on. “When your dad was on his death bed I also made the same promise to him.”
She stood, staring down at him with a beseeching gaze. “I relieved you of that duty years ago. I’m not a case of yours and I’m certainly nothing but a memory.”
He watched her walk across the room, guessing she needed space. He’d give it to her and wouldn’t pressure her, but he couldn’t just walk away from her completely either. He swore he’d let her find happiness, but while he was still alive he’d do all he could to keep protect her. If he couldn’t make her happy then hopefully he could make sure she was safe enough to move on. He stood. “If you want to spend the rest of your life punishing me for the past, I can’t stop you. I won’t stop you because you were right, I was a bad husband. I guess I just wasn’t cut out for matrimony. But hear me when I say, all I want is for you to be happy and safe.”
Swiveling, she nailed him with a heated glare that sunk deep into the center of his bones. “You want me to be happy? Yeah, you proved that when you stormed into the chapel on my wedding day.” Her plump bottom lip trembled and her cheeks flushed.
He didn’t want to argue, couldn’t get into the same old arguments that led their marriage into disaster. He reached in and dug out his business card, dropping it on the table. “My new number’s here. If you need anything or you hear even the slightest noise out of place outside this door, you call me.” He gave her one final glance, absorbed her pale blue eyes charged with an emotion he’d witnessed too many times in the past. “Take care of yourself.” He then walked out, closing the door softly behind him. A dull ache in his groin reminded him of the knee he’d taken to that part of his body.
Once he stepped onto the sidewalk, his phone rang. He dug his phone out seeing Coby’s number on the screen. He answered, “Tell me you have some news.”
“We finally got the camera footage from the store across the street from the alley. I figured you’d want to look.”
“I’ll be there in ten.” He hung up and strolled toward his motorcycle. The lit window in the house drew him like a beacon. He wasn’t sure why he thought he might see her standing there watching. It was time he took the necessary steps to move on. Eventually he’d feel free of the hold she had on him.
Hell, who was he kidding?
What he had for her would never be over. Not in a lifetime.
*
Once Steam left, Lauren bolted the three locks on the door and made sure they were secure. Although she knew she shouldn’t, she stepped over to the window and watched him make his way to the motorcycle. How could he still impact her with such need? Emotion?
Moving away from the window, she made her way into the bathroom, dragged off her yoga pants and top before climbing under a cold spray. Leaning against the tiled wall of the shower, the water poured down her tired, strained body. After working out she always felt a sense of power—as if she was earning her confidence back, but now the tension had returned. Full force. And Steam was the source.
Her head was spinning.
Her ex-husband had been in her house. The only man she’d ever allowed inside—her home and her heart. Looking back, she realized with intense clarity that Harry had been a bandage which only made her feel more guilty. He was a nice guy and deserved better.
The heart wanted what it wanted.
She’d loved Steam. Leaving him had been the hardest decision of her life. She couldn’t count the number of times she’d wanted him to show up the months following their separation, or the times she’d cried herself to sleep missing him, picking up the phone to call him only to end the call before it rang.
A woman
couldn’t love a man like him without becoming consumed. She’d lost herself in him and, honestly, a big part of her was still gone. Would she ever be whole again?
Tears filled her eyes and slipped down her cheeks mingling with the spray of water. Even now having been near him left her wanting more. Missing those strong arms that comforted her. Not even the cool water put out the heat between her inner thighs.
What was wrong with her? Steam had told her that she was connected to a dead man…not just any dead man but a Diamond. She should be making a safety plan but instead she was standing under the spray of water wishing Steam was here with her.
What if she was in danger?
What if her attackers came after her to finish the job?
Those were questions that always lingered in the back of her mind.
She couldn’t remember everything that happened the night of the attack because she was knocked out early on, but her mind had a field day creating scenario after scenario, and each one became worse than the prior. Her therapist warned her that her mind would try to fill in the gaps and that she should expect it. Dr. Hargrave even suggested that Lauren write her thoughts down, turn it into a story of survival, anything that would help her find closure.
Up until the night of the attack she’d felt safe, believed she lived in the safest place in the world, but now she feared the very home where she had felt comfort. Each day she passed the locations she once loved to visit, all blanketed in a dark cloud of trauma and chaos.
There was a time she couldn’t have imagined how people lived in fear, afraid of another human being, watching every shadow as if everyone was an enemy waiting to pounce. At one time she found solace in being alone, there she found her thoughts and would write her stories. Now, being home alone could sometimes feel like a prison created by three strangers who left her for dead. The key to the lock dangled just out of reach and she wasn’t sure how to climb the space when it felt like a mountain. She’d been naïve to think fear belonged to others, weaker people who wanted to allow their circumstances to control their living capacity. She was one of those people now, living life on a narrow path, afraid to trust again.
The scar on her cheek was a constant reminder that she was a victim.
Shutting off the water, she grabbed a towel from the rack and secured it around her body. At the mirror, she swiped her hand through the condensation and stared at herself. She touched the jagged scar on her cheek, following the red line like a road map, but where did it lead? The scar was a memory to that night. Wherever she went, she dragged the past along with her, like a ball and chain.
Leaving the mirror, she dropped the towel, dressed in a soft T-shirt and boxer shorts, then made her way into the living room. The quiet was deafening. Her eyes were drawn to the business card still sitting on the table. It lured her, but she had to be stronger. She couldn’t trust anyone, not even Steam, not with her heart. He’d hurt her and she couldn’t dare let her heart lead the way again.
She’d wanted to tell him about the flash drive, but the words had been stuck on her tongue. No doubt King and his dealings were ruthless and dangerous, and she needed to be very careful not to drag Steam into the web.
Chapter 5
“I’m glad you decided to come out with me tonight. It’s been a while. I was growing tired of pizza and movie night at your house if I wanted to see you.”
Lauren looked up from the menu and smiled at Selma. “You act as if I’m a hermit.”
“You said it, I didn’t. By the way, you should try the Calamari. It’s amazing.”
“I don’t like Calamari. But the salmon looks delicious.” She closed her menu and the waitress stepped over to take their order. When she walked away, Lauren asked, “What was so important that you had to see me tonight?”
Selma took a sip of her wine, resituating her cloth napkin on her lap. Lauren could see there was something serious working through her friend’s mind. “I’m going to say it like it is. I’m getting hell from management, Lauren.”
“What’s new? They like to shift their weight around.”
“What’s new is that our ratings have dropped thirty-two percent since…” Selma looked away as if she’d hit a wall.
“Oh, come on, you can say the words. Since my attack. I told you that I won’t break if you say it.”
“Sorry. The ordeal still makes me sick. I’m pissed at management. They have zero compassion. All they see are numbers.”
Lauren sat back in her chair. “Maybe it’s time we admit defeat.”
“Defeat? I didn’t realize you owned that word in your dictionary.”
Lauren looked over at the next table where a couple shared dessert. She felt a stab to her heart, remembering a time when life was easier, happier. When she had more motivation. “My articles have lost something.”
“I can’t argue. Your style is…well…”
“Bland.”
“No. It’s—”
“Retired. I think I’ve lost my motivation.”
“What are you saying?”
Lauren tapped her fingers on the table in restless energy. “I’m not feeling it these days. It’s time I searched out what will plant curiosity back into my brain.”
“Are you thinking about quitting? Are you serious?”
“I appreciate the opportunity that I’ve been given, but the old Lauren is gone. I don’t think she’s coming back.”
Selma leaned back in her chair, planted her palms on the table and shook her head. “What would you do?”
“Well, I could always try my hand at that book I’ve been threatening to write for some time. Who knows where I’ll land? Sometimes dreams change.” Feeling her editor’s disapproving expression, she sighed. “You’ll find someone to replace me. Someone who is fresh and exciting. A hard hitter.”
“You can never be replaced, honey.”
“And yet you’re not throwing yourself at my mercy begging me not to leave.” Lauren laughed, teasing, but only slightly.
There was a long, awkward silence. Then finally, “Because as much as I love you and your talent, I think you’ve reached a point where you need something to revive you. You used to come to work full of spunk and energy, and now—”
“I’m the victim.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.”
“You’re only the victim if you choose to stay the victim.”
Lauren dragged a tendril of hair behind her ear and scanned the crowded room, absorbing what Selma had said. Couples were coming through the door and she did a double take when she realized she saw someone familiar. Her toes curled, but just as quickly, her lungs deflated. It was Steam but he wasn’t alone. She recognized the cute brunette latched onto his arm as one of the nurses that helped take care of her in the long-term unit at the hospital.
Feeling like her throat was clogged and a cloud had rested over her, Lauren picked up her glass and downed the red wine in one gulp. She waved at the waitress, but she didn’t see Lauren’s frantic urgency. Turning in her seat, she could pretend she didn’t see Steam and his date. Sure. Oblivion was better than jealousy. Jealousy? What the hell?
Incapable of ignoring the magnet that drew her gaze and his name was Steam, she glanced across the room, searching for the couple among the crowd. There they were. The nurse had her hand still draped over his arm and he was smiling…that smile that had once belonged solely to Lauren.
Her heart kicked up in speed.
There were a hundred and one reasons why she fell in love with him and his smile was one of them. He always wore his hair closely cut when they were married, a requirement from his time in the military, but now it was longer, almost touching the collar of his blue striped button-down shirt that brought out the color of his eyes. He was ruggedly good looking and half the women in the restaurant must have thought so too because they turned to look at him as he passed their tables to the dismay of their dates. That was nothing ne
w. He was tall, standing at six foot four and weighing over two hundred pounds without an ounce of fat, he looked like a modern-day Viking. Lauren moved her gaze down his jeans that fit him perfectly, giving a new sexy definition to denim. She looked closer and saw the telltale lump…the big one. He always carried his gun holstered at his side. He never went anywhere without it. Not even on a date.
In all the years they’d been together, she’d never been jealous, but the interesting tightness tugging in her chest seemed a lot like jealousy. They were divorced. She’d made it clear that they were over. She’d even told him to move on. He had every right to be on a date with the cute, perky nurse that looked like she hadn’t a care in the world. It reminded Lauren of what she’d lost. Her perkiness. Her fun character. She’d become a bland hermit.
Shit!
They were coming her direction.
Lauren lifted the menu to hide behind it.
“What’s wrong with you, Lauren?” Selma asked in a lowered voice.
Shifting the menu, she mouthed to her friend, “Don’t look now, but it’s Steam.”
“Daniel? Really?”
Looking over the top of the menu, her gaze met blue cobalt. Shit! Unfortunately, he saw her and was now smiling. He stepped over to the table, grinning so wide that his dimples were showing.
“Wow! Small world,” the nurse gushed.
“Yeah, small world,” Steam said.
“Oh, hello.” Lauren lowered the menu, doing her best to appear casual, uninterested. “What are you two doing here?”
“Eating.” One of his brows lifted.
“Yes, of course.” Lauren refused to meet his gaze that drilled her from across the table. “So are we.” She picked up her glass and sipped but then realized she’d already finished it. Her cheeks warmed in embarrassment.
“You remember Joney, right?” he asked.
“Of course.” Lauren plastered a smile on her face.
“You’re looking great.” The nurse gave a shaky smile.
Secured by the Lawman (Mountain Force Book 2) Page 6