by L. A. Fiore
“And this Kevin character drops on you that your dad’s accident wasn’t an accident but a murder?”
“Yeah. And knowing Kevin, he’s manipulating me with this bullshit story. That’s why I needed to hear from you that it is bullshit, so I can dismiss it and him.”
He growled something, though I couldn’t make out what he said, but it was the look that accompanied the growl that sent a lick of apprehension through me. He said, “There has been a claim.”
An icy chill swept through me as did dread. Detective Knox moved to my side, resting his hip on the edge of the table and reaching for my hand. “This happens often, a suspect grabs at anything to waste our time. This suspect is from your neighborhood and your dad’s accident wasn’t so long ago. It’s very likely he’s bullshitting us so we spin our wheels which buys him and his lawyer some time. I had no intention of telling you this unless we proved that there was some validity to the statement.”
“Do you think there might be something to it?”
“I don’t, but if there is I promise you we won’t leave a stone unturned until we discover what really happened that night. Please don’t concern yourself about this because it’s more than likely just a ruse.”
“You’ll tell me if there’s more to it, right?”
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Bruce.”
“And Mia, might I suggest you stay away from this Kevin Lowell. He sounds like a real dirt bag.”
I smiled because talk about an understatement. “Already am because he really is.”
I couldn’t focus at work the following day because despite how reassured I felt after talking to Detective Knox, the truth was someone had stepped up and taken credit for killing my dad. Kevin had been telling me the truth. Was it possible something sinister had happened to my dad? Taking that thought to the next logical place, did Cole appear that night when he did because he had a hand in what had befallen Dad? The thought of that twisted in my gut because I didn’t want him to be the villain, but I’d be a fool to not consider it—especially with how strange he had been acting ever since.
It wasn’t until after ten in the evening that I found myself walking through the doors of Tickled Ivories. If anyone could tell me what happened to my dad, I suspected Cole could. Which begged the question, why had he been so close-mouthed about it?
Claire saw me approach and smiled. “Hey. Can I get you a drink?”
“Is Cole here?”
“Ah, I think so. He’s in his office.”
“Thanks.”
I knocked but I didn’t wait for an answer and pushed my way in. Cole’s head snapped up from his place behind his desk, anger in his expression until he saw it was me.
“Mia.”
“Was my dad murdered?”
His blue eyes turned downright frosty. “Where did you hear that?”
“I’ve been to the precinct so I know someone’s taking credit for killing Dad. I know you know more about that night than you’ve said. I don’t know why you’re being so secretive about it but I need to know. Did someone kill my dad? Please just tell me.”
His body tense, his fingers turned white around the pen he held so tightly it was likely going to snap in two. “I think it’s possible.”
I couldn’t draw in a breath; it was like a truck had fallen on my chest. My fingers curled around the doorjamb, my head lowered as I struggled for breath, but I couldn’t pull any air in. Blackness crept into my vision as I went lightheaded. Suddenly my body was pressed against Cole’s, my head on his chest, his arms around me like a protective cage.
“Breathe, Mia.”
Air filled my lungs, which I immediately exhaled on a sob that ripped from my throat. Curling my fingers into his t-shirt, I pressed my face into his chest and gave in to my agony.
He scooped me up into his arms and walked me to the sofa he had in his office. Settling me practically on top of him, he held me until my sobs subsided.
“I want a drink.”
“Cabernet or do you want something more potent?”
I supposed I shouldn’t have been surprised that he knew my favorite drink was Cabernet. “Stronger.”
Reaching into his pocket, he radioed someone out front. “Bring in the Crown Royal and a glass.”
A minute or two later, a perky waitress entered; her eyes going wide at the sight of Cole and me on the sofa—looking probably how I did when I’d walked in on Cole and Roxy—since I was practically sitting on him.
“Just leave it there, Bee.”
She said nothing, just dropped the tray on the desk and walked out, securing the door closed behind her. Cole gently moved me so he could retrieve the bottle and glass and poured me a healthy three fingers of which I downed in a second before holding my glass up for another. He didn’t hesitate to fill it.
“Why would someone want to harm my dad?”
His raspy voice had an edge, and not just anger but frustration, which sounded odd coming from a man who seemed so detached and remote. “I don’t know.”
“But you’ve been looking into it.”
“Yes.”
“And me? Is that why you’ve been watching me?”
“Like I said, your dad asked me to watch over you.”
That hurt, even mostly numb from the alcohol, because I wanted him to say he watched me because he needed to, because the memory of that night in my dorm haunted his dreams as much as it haunted mine, but I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised to learn his efficiency really was no more than loyalty to my dad. I raised my glass for another.
“Do you have ideas about my dad?”
“A few, but I think for now it’s best that you stay away from it.”
“Why?”
“It’s not safe.”
My anger surged at that and it helped that I was drunk so I had no inhibitions. “Right and since you and Dad did a blood brother thing, you’ve got to honor your word to him. I was his daughter but he trusted you more and if that’s not a kick in the gut.”
“It isn’t about trust.”
“Bullshit. He told you what was going on, whatever situation caused him to be in danger. You knew all about it, you were watching out for him, hell you even planned for the possibility of something going wrong when he bought me my apartment that just happened to be across the alley from where you work. Meanwhile the helpless daughter was going about life thinking everything was rainbows and unicorns.”
I didn’t realize I was crying until I felt the tears rolling down my cheeks. “I should hate you because for the last few years of his life you had more of him than I did, but I can’t hate you any more than I could have hated him.”
I stood to leave and my legs nearly crumbled under me. Cole reached for me, pressing me up against his side, before retrieving my purse. At my apartment, he unlocked the door and led me inside. He moved through my place like he knew it and reaching my bedroom, he gently lowered me onto the bed. I thought he left, but he returned a few minutes later with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. Dropping two into his palm, he held them to me before handing me the glass of water.
With the skill of someone well acquainted with the practice, he removed my suit jacket, which was followed by my skirt. Despite the heartache emptying me, I felt the spark of desire when his fingers lightly brushed along my skin. There was nothing seductive in his ministrations and yet my body burned. He settled me in my bed and pulled the covers over my shoulders.
“Why don’t I know anything about you despite having known you since I was seven?”
“You’ve enough to deal with tonight.”
Turning to more fully face him, I gave myself a moment to really look at him. I could see the boy he had been, the one who had played with me, the one who had been my friend. I could see the teenager he became, the one who commanded attention without even needing to say a word. Power radiated from him, had then too, his silence not from shyness but intensity. He was always watching and he’d see everything. What did h
e do at Tickled Ivories? The fact that he had an office meant he must be someone important. Where did he live? What had he done after Dad died and the garage closed? “We need to talk.”
“Sleep, Mia.”
And then the horror of what I had learned came flooding back like a wicked wave determined to pull me under and I couldn’t control the tremble in my voice. “Someone might have murdered my dad. Why would someone murder my dad?”
There was a hard edge to his voice when he spoke again. “Sleep, Mia.”
And as much as I didn’t want to sleep, feared the dreams that were waiting to haunt me as soon as I closed my eyes, the alcohol was working. As I drifted off to sleep, I whispered. “You hurt me, Cole.” I never knew if he had a reaction to that or not since sleep claimed me.
My body felt like it was on fire, seeking to ease the heat, I tried to push the covers from me but my arms felt weighted down. Why couldn’t I move my arms? And then I remembered the massive amount of alcohol I had consumed. I was likely still drunk.
A kiss, whisper-soft like a brush of an eyelash, to my shoulder seared me like a brand. Lifting my hands, they encountered the hard muscles of wide shoulders. Shoulders I knew could carry so much. Tilting my head and offering my neck like some sacrifice to a hungry vampire, I waited in anticipation to feel Cole’s lips on me again. It was his tongue, the tip touching the sensitive spot where my shoulder met my neck. Slow, almost lazily, his tongue moved in a circular pattern. Heat licked down my arms so intense that I felt the individual blood cells scorching through my veins. I had missed this, had dreamt of this for so long. My hips moved, seeking to ease the ache that had started between my legs. His lips joined his tongue, pressing hard as he sucked the overly sensitive skin he had just tasted.
“Oh God, harder Cole.”
His hands moved over my body, a light touch from my hips up along my sides and when his thumb brushed lightly across the underside of my breast, I nearly came. His lips burned a trail from my shoulder, across my collarbone and down the valley between my breasts. The rough pad of his thumb swiped across my nipple and I bit down on my lip to keep from moaning in pleasure. His other hand sought the area between my legs, a brush of his calloused fingers against the spot that ached had pleasure searing me, so intense I jerked upright, my eyes flying open. It took a beat or two for me to realize I was alone even though my body still hummed from the orgasm. The glass and bottle of aspirin were right where Cole had left them and my suit draped over the chair, but there was no Cole. A dream. It had only been a dream, but never in my life had I experienced such a vivid one. My body still ached from where he touched me, I still felt his lips on me and yet all of it had just been my imagination. Settling back into my covers, I willed myself to sleep because morning would be arriving far sooner than I wanted and with it the reality of my dad’s death and how once again my life had changed in the course of just one night.
Janie and I were having dinner at a little bistro down the street from my apartment. She peppered me with questions about Cole and though she knew quite a bit about my relationship with him, I had never told her of our night in my dorm; that was a memory I wanted to stay just between Cole and me. I also hadn’t told her the news that Kevin had shared with me, what Cole had confirmed. I wasn’t sure I wanted to admit that there was a chance my dad had been killed intentionally. It was hard for me to keep that to myself, since Janie and I shared everything, but I was having a hard enough time dealing, didn’t seem fair to force her to deal too.
“So he undressed you, but he didn’t fuck you.”
“You are so crude.”
“I am and you love me for it. So why didn’t Mr. Tall, Dark and Intense bend you over the sofa and fuck your brains out?”
“Our relationship isn’t like that.” Or at least it wouldn’t be again. “I took your advice and grabbed the bull by the balls and nothing.”
“I know how much you like him. That sucks, Mia. The first guy that you really have a thing for and he’s unapproachable. Well, maybe someday we’ll find you the right guy since we’ve done the extremes. Kevin needing to control every aspect of your life and Cole not wanting any part of it.”
“Thanks, Janie. That’s a really nice way to put it.”
She laughed and reached for her glass. “You know what I mean.”
And it was because I did that I didn’t get upset. Janie was not one to put a fine point on her statements. Blunt should be her middle name. Not wanting to think about Cole I asked, “So what’s new with you?”
“There’s a case that came across my desk. Two minors who are allegedly being pimped out by their foster father. It sickens me how vile some people can be and how it seems to fall on the most innocent in our society—the backlash from that depravity. Fucker is going to fry if the reports are true. They should cut his dick off first and feed it to him.”
Janie worked for Department of Child Services, a caseworker who investigated cases of child abuse. Her job was much like those shows on television; she even worked with detectives in the Philadelphia Police Department. In truth, I think it was the knowledge of what she wanted to do, knowing Cole’s past, that unconsciously drew me to her. It was a tough job, but Janie was totally cut out for it. She was fierce when she needed to be. I admired her, admired that she had the calling to work in such a hard line of work.
“At the very least, though I think we can come up with a few more graphic punishments for him before he fries.” Reaching across the table, I squeezed her hand. “They’re lucky they have you in their corner.”
It was one of the rare moments when emotion got the better of Janie; her lower lip actually trembled. “Thanks for saying that.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Manuel, Tony and Shawn are looking for a repeat performance.”
The swift subject change by Janie, I was sure, was due to her emotions being closer to the surface than she'd like.
“Who are Manuel, Tony and Shawn?”
“The boys you walked in on.”
“And how did you meet these boys?”
“I was trying out a new club.”
“A new club and you didn’t take me?”
“Sex club.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, backroom kind of club where what happens in the club stays in the club. Anyway, the boys and I shared a few hours together and found we really enjoyed each other.”
“So you’re up for a repeat performance.”
“Being thoroughly fucked by three hot men, oh yes I am. I won’t be available on Friday night, likely Saturday too since I intend to work those boys over really well.”
I didn’t get the appeal, not even a little. But the thought of getting thoroughly worked over by Cole caused my body to sizzle and burn. Those hands, which were strong and calloused yet gentle, roaming over my body again, yeah I wanted that. We wouldn’t be having a repeat performance though, because that ship had sailed.
“Earth to Mia. What are you thinking about? You have the oddest expression on your face.”
“Just wanting the impossible.”
“Nothing’s impossible if you want it badly enough.”
After dinner, Janie wanted to try a new club she’d heard about and I was definitely apprehensive after learning about her sex club. Silver City turned out to be a really nice place and way swankier than I was used to. I got to people watch and the people were worthy of being watched; most of the women were wearing designer clothes…outfits you only see in magazines.
“How did you hear of this place?” I asked Janie as we were led to a small table just off the dance floor.
“The DA told me about it. He comes frequently with his wife for a night of dancing.”
I wouldn’t mind coming here often for a night of dancing. Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, tables dressed in white cloth covered most of the floor except for the dance floor that sat prominently up front near the stage where a live band performed. The retro, mirrored bar spanned the entire one
side of the club lined with art deco black stools and the shelves of liquor went so high, a library ladder hung from a copper pole to access the higher shelves.
We weren’t seated for very long before two guys made their way over to us. It happened when Janie and I went out since we were so opposite in our appearances. Janie being petite and blond with superstar good looks and a shapely hourglass figure that made men pant and me, I had come a long way from my days as the ugly duckling. I grew into my limbs, reaching 5’ 8”, and I wasn’t painfully skinny anymore—having filled out in the chest and hips, though I didn’t have the curves that Janie had. My brown hair had more red in it and had straightened as I grew older. Coupled with the whiskey-colored eyes, I looked a lot like my dad—the female version—and I was okay with that.
The guys who approached were cute if you were into the classic, preppy look, but for me I found them too pretty, too soft and too tailored. I was bias, but my preference was for a man in faded jeans and a tee who didn’t give me bedroom eyes but who looked at me like he saw inside me. I wanted someone who, despite being remote, would hold me close while I broke down, someone who after I’d cried a river on his shoulder still saw me home, safe and sound. Not going to happen so maybe I should take a page from Janie’s book and engage in mindless sex. Maybe, for just a night, I needed to feel and not think.
“Evening. Do you mind if we join you?” the blond asked.
“Not at all.” Janie flashed him her killer smile and he all but lapped at her like a cat at a bowl of milk.
“I’m Robert and this is Tom.”
“Janie and this is Alexis.” I grinned to myself that Janie used my alias.
Clearly Robert had called dibs on Janie since Tom settled next to me. “Hey.”
“Hi.”
“What are you drinking?” he asked.
“Martini, dirty with three olives.”
He flashed me a smile, as he signaled the waitress, his teeth so perfect he could work toothpaste commercials. I almost wished he had food stuck in them just so he appeared more human. Maybe Kevin wasn’t Stepford; maybe he was just the new generation guy. I hoped not since I didn’t think I could get hot for a guy whose hair was highlighted nicer than mine.