Into the Dark (The Cincinnati Series Book 5) (Cincinnati 5)

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Into the Dark (The Cincinnati Series Book 5) (Cincinnati 5) Page 50

by Karen Rose


  His shoulders relaxed. ‘That’s what Greg said.’

  Her lips twitched. ‘Greg’s pretty smart.’

  ‘He thinks you’re a hero,’ Michael signed shyly.

  Dani’s eyes stung. ‘He said that?’

  ‘Yeah. He said that Joshua and I are lucky to be living with you.’ He looked at his feet, his next signs kind of a mush. ‘I agreed.’

  Dani cupped his face, happy when he leaned into her. This boy was seriously touch-deprived. Just like Diesel. ‘I think we’re all lucky we found each other. Was that the only thing bothering you?’

  He swallowed hard. ‘Mostly. A few other things.’

  ‘Tell me if you want to, but you don’t have to. I’m glad you talked to Meredith, though. That will help you.’

  ‘She’s nice. She brought an interpreter and I didn’t even have to ask.’

  Thankfully the interpreter had agreed to be blindfolded on the drive over, the only way Deacon would approve her admittance to the safe house. ‘Meredith knows the law. I know the law, too. From here on out, you have an advocate in your corner, Michael. I won’t let anyone deprive you of your rights.’

  His lips trembled and he firmed them. ‘Thank you. That other agent – Agent Taylor – he brought us presents. Why?’

  ‘He’s a nice man. My friends are all nice people. You’ll see that.’

  Hope flickered in his eyes. ‘I wrote a thank-you note. With a pen.’

  Dani chuckled. ‘Going old-school?’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Agent Troy said he’d give it to Agent Taylor.’

  ‘Then he will.’ She patted his face sweetly. ‘Go to bed, Michael. We’ll talk more in the morning. I have to get my sleep. It helps keep my levels undetectable.’

  Michael nodded hard, mention of her health spurring him into motion. ‘I will. Thanks, Dani.’ But he stopped, hesitating once more.

  ‘Go ahead and ask,’ she said with a smile. ‘What’s on your mind?’

  ‘Joshua asked if you’d let him call you Mom someday. I didn’t know what to tell him. So I told him I’d ask you.’

  Dani’s breath left her in a whoosh. Oh wow. She hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t dared to.

  ‘It’s okay,’ Michael said, misunderstanding her lack of response. ‘I’ll tell him that he should call you by your name.’

  She held up her hands. ‘No, it’s good. It’s just . . . it makes me really happy to think about that. About him wanting to call me that. Tell him . . . yes. When he’s ready. No rush.’

  Michael’s smile was shy. ‘Thanks. Good night.’

  She watched him go into his room and shut the door, too overwhelmed to move, even when Diesel left Joshua’s room and approached her.

  ‘Hey,’ he said softly, stroking her hair. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’ She smiled up at him. ‘Well, other than the fact that Michael will probably move to the floor next to Joshua’s bed as soon as we go to sleep.’ She sighed. ‘And that Cade Kaiser is still out there, trying to hurt our boys.’

  He wrapped his arms around her, and for that moment she felt so safe. So . . . wanted. Happy, she realized. I’m happy.

  He kissed her forehead. ‘It won’t hurt Michael to sleep on the floor for a while. He’ll return to his bed when he’s ready. And if it goes on too long, we’ll ask Meredith what to do. As for Kaiser, we’ll worry about him in the morning. Come on. Let’s go to bed.’ He nuzzled the side of her neck, making her shiver. ‘I’ve been waiting all day to get you alone.’

  ‘Me, too.’ She turned her head, her lips finding his. It started out sweet, but he took control, growling against her mouth. ‘I love that sound,’ she confessed.

  ‘Come with me, and I’ll make it again.’

  She laughed. ‘I hope to.’ She lifted a brow. ‘To come with you.’

  ‘You’re very bad, Dr Novak. I love it.’ He tugged on her hand, threading their fingers together as he led her to the bedroom. It was sweet. Chaste, even.

  Which was really nice, she thought, but not what she wanted at the moment. She waited until they were in their room before opening her mouth to say exactly that, but all she could do was moan, because Diesel had her back against the bedroom door and his hand down her pants before she could blink.

  He took her mouth in a bruising kiss that was everything she’d wanted, and his fingers . . . ‘Oh my God,’ she moaned, but it was muffled because he wouldn’t stop kissing her. Her hips bucked, trying to get his fingertips where she needed them.

  He lifted his head, breathing hard, his dark eyes nearly black and glittering with undisguised hunger. Dani let her head fall back against the door, closed her eyes, and let herself feel.

  ‘More,’ she whispered. ‘God, Diesel.’ She worked her hands between their bodies and jerked at the snap on her pants, kicking off her shoes as she lowered her zipper. Then her pants and panties were gone, the cool air of the bedroom feeling so good against her heated skin.

  Her sweater was yanked over her head and she had a second of clarity to act before her bra met the same fate as the one she’d been wearing the night before. She brushed his hands away when he grabbed at the front clasp, and released it herself. ‘I don’t have another one with me,’ she murmured on a hushed chuckle, ‘so you can’t rip this one.’

  His laugh was breathless. ‘Fair enough. There’s something else I want.’ Then he dropped to his knees, not giving her even a moment to prepare before his face was between her legs, and his tongue . . .

  She’d thought his fingers were talented, but his tongue . . .

  She covered her mouth with her hand to quiet the whimpers that she couldn’t seem to control. She’d thought she’d be embarrassed, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She couldn’t stop looking at what he was doing to her.

  He looked up, his eyes wicked, his lips shiny and wet. ‘Do you like that?’ he asked hoarsely.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. Just another whimper. That seemed to be good enough for him, because he draped her legs over his shoulders and stabbed his tongue in deeper.

  ‘Diesel,’ she choked out, more loudly than she’d intended. She clamped her lips together, suddenly conscious of the guards standing on both sides of the front door. And Joshua across the hall. Michael wouldn’t hear them, but the others might.

  Diesel pulled back far enough to frown. ‘What?’ he demanded. ‘You went quiet. I want to hear every sound I pull out of you. They’re mine, all the sounds.’

  She shivered again, her hips grinding against his face of their own accord. ‘People. Outside.’

  He looked like he was going to tell her to ignore them, but he gently pushed her legs off his shoulders and stood up, surprising her.

  ‘I didn’t mean for you to stop,’ she hissed.

  He laughed. ‘Just a small break,’ he promised, then picked her up, his hands on her ass. She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist.

  Then she froze. ‘Diesel, wait.’ He’d been licking into her. Unprotected. ‘Dental dam. We need one. I don’t have any with me.’

  He shook his head, carrying her into the bathroom. ‘No.’ Not letting her go, he supported her weight with one hand, turning on the water in the shower with the other. He then gently removed her processor from behind her ear and laid it on the sink, all while he held her so steadily that she could have performed surgery. His strength was hotter than hell, but she wasn’t going to be distracted.

  ‘We can’t do oral without protection.’

  He met her gaze, his piercing. ‘I’ll do condoms, even though those aren’t really necessary either, but no dental dams. I don’t want anything between my mouth and your—’

  ‘Diesel,’ she hissed.

  He merely raised a brow, unbothered. ‘Are you undetectable?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

 
‘Is the CDC a reputable organization?’ he interrupted.

  The Centers for Disease Control? ‘Yes, of course, but—’

  He kissed her quiet, and she tasted herself on his mouth. It was all she could do not to moan. ‘The CDC says “Undetectable Equals Untransmittable”,’ he said. ‘They have it on their website. “U equals U”. There are posters for doctors’ offices. You have one on the wall in your very own clinic.’

  ‘I know, but—’

  He kissed her again. ‘Are you a good doctor?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  Another kiss. ‘Would you post medical advice in your clinic that wasn’t true?’

  ‘No.’

  He grinned. ‘No buts?’

  ‘No. You’ll just kiss me again. Which, y’know, is fine, but—’

  He kissed her again, but he smiled through it. ‘Dani, I’m taking Truvada. You’re taking your antiretroviral meds. You get your levels tested how often?’

  ‘Every month.’

  ‘How often is the recommended frequency?’

  She let out a breath, knowing he already knew the answer. ‘For positive patients with undetectable viral loads who are taking their medications, every three to four months. I go more often because I’m a medical professional.’

  He smiled down at her. ‘So you’re covered. We’re covered. We can use condoms because you don’t want to get pregnant and I’m okay with that, but I do not want to use dental dams. I will if your viral loads become detectable, but if that never happens, why should we?’

  She stared at him desperately. ‘If I made you sick, I’d never forgive myself.’

  ‘If we made me positive, we’d share the responsibility equally. But we’re not going to make me positive. Honey, listen to yourself. You’re boxing with shadows. A lot of energy for no payout. I don’t know about you, but I’d prefer to expend my energy on more . . . pleasurable pursuits.’

  She closed her eyes. He was right. She knew he was right. If she were her own patient, she’d be telling herself the exact same thing. She wasn’t sure why she was fighting so hard. ‘You deserve so many pleasurable pursuits.’ Far more than she could give him.

  He kissed her closed eyelids so gently. ‘Dani? Honey, look at me.’

  She forced herself to open her eyes. And her breath caught in her throat at the sheer adoration she saw there.

  He leaned his forehead against hers, his hands cradling her ass like she didn’t weigh anything. ‘You deserve to have pleasurable sex, too,’ he whispered. ‘And if that voice in your head is telling you otherwise, you should tell it to fuck off.’

  She laughed, but it sounded like a sob. Because he was right. That was why she was fighting herself so hard. She could hear the voice now, and it sounded so much like her uncle. If you’d kept your legs together, you wouldn’t be diseased. You’re trash. A slut. What kind of example are you? What kind of doctor are you?

  A damn good doctor, she answered the voice, and she knew that to be true. I am a damn good doctor.

  Diesel was right, and that voice in her head was wrong.

  ‘I’m so glad you didn’t give up on me,’ she said quietly.

  ‘I couldn’t.’ He kissed her mouth, then trailed his lips along her jaw to whisper in her good ear. ‘I tried, but I couldn’t. Now, I’m planning to get into the shower with you. I’m going to go down on you and I want to hear every little sound, okay? I want to hear you scream my name. And with the water going, nobody else will hear you. Just me. Can I do that?’

  She nodded, a new shiver rippling over her skin. ‘Yes. Except . . .’

  He lifted his head to look at her, his exasperation beginning to show. ‘Except?’

  ‘You’re still wearing all your clothes.’

  He chuckled. ‘Then take them off me.’

  So she did, wiggling out of his hold and unwrapping his body like it was a Christmas present. ‘You are a sight, Mr Kennedy,’ she murmured when she had him naked, raking her gaze over each inch of exposed skin, over every curve of his ink. ‘I could look at you all night long.’

  ‘Maybe another night,’ he said, and took her into the shower. And made her scream his name. And then he took her to bed and did it again.

  When he finally came, his expression was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen in her life.

  And when he fell asleep, holding her tight in his arms, she knew there wasn’t anywhere else on the planet that she’d rather be.

  Cincinnati, Ohio

  Monday, 18 March, 11.55 P.M.

  Grant trudged into the hotel room and sank onto the edge of the bed, lowering his head to his hands. He was so damn tired.

  And empty. And angry. So damn angry.

  Angry with Wesley for taking all of this onto his own shoulders. Angry with him for stealing heroin and selling it for money to finance this . . . cover of his. Angry with him for getting himself killed.

  Angry with Cade Kaiser for being judge, jury, and executioner.

  Angry with the Cincinnati detective who’d covered up Laurel’s disappearance because he’d been on the take. And with her roommate for the same.

  He was just so damn angry.

  He sighed, exhausted by the weight of it all. Before he knew it, he had his cell in his hand and was dialing his wife. ‘Hey,’ he said.

  Cora shuddered out a relieved breath and he realized that he hadn’t spoken with her since she’d called that afternoon to tell him that Dani Novak had made contact. ‘Hey, yourself,’ she said, her voice rough, the way it got when she was crying and didn’t want anyone to know.

  ‘I worried you,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘It’s okay. I’m fine. Are you?’

  Was he fine? ‘No,’ he whispered. ‘I don’t think I am. I’m safe,’ he added before she could freak. ‘But I’m not fine.’

  ‘Where are you?’ she asked gently.

  ‘In a hotel. The cops closed off Wes’s apartment. Looking for evidence.’

  ‘Of?’ Cora asked warily.

  Grant huffed bitterly. ‘Well, Wes is dead. And so is Laurel.’ He told her everything, and when he was finished, he was even more tired than before.

  ‘Oh baby,’ Cora murmured. ‘I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that Wes is dead, but he left you to deal with all of this and that wasn’t fair. When are you coming home?’

  She didn’t ask it in a nagging kind of way, but more like the come-home-and-I’ll-hug-you kind of way that always made him feel warm. He missed her. Missed the kids. Missed the normalcy of it all. He hated Wes’s crazy life.

  ‘Not yet. I’m at the Westin in Cincinnati. I have to make arrangements for . . .’ He exhaled. ‘For Wes’s body. The detectives gave me the name of a local mortuary service.’ A sob was building and he tried to shove it down. ‘The detectives were all nice.’

  Nicer than they should have been considering he’d withheld evidence from them. Hadn’t immediately reported the brick of heroin in Wes’s safe or the piles of cash. ‘I met Dr Novak,’ he said. ‘She was lovely.’

  ‘What did she have that connected to Laurel?’

  Grant shook his head in disbelief. ‘A house. But it isn’t really Laurel’s. Wes won it in a very illegal poker game.’

  ‘Who does the house belong to, then?’

  ‘Legally? I don’t know. Maybe me. But we don’t need a house. We have one.’

  ‘We have a lovely house that’ll just get lovelier when you’re back in it.’

  The tightness in Grant’s chest eased a fraction. ‘The house really belongs to two boys, Michael and Joshua Rowland, sons of a couple who were murdered by the same man who killed Wes. If it is legally mine, I’ll sell it and put the money in trust for them. If it’s not, Dani will figure it out. She’s their foster parent.’

  ‘I think that sounds like a very good plan. Those kids are going to need
all the support they can get.’

  ‘Thank you,’ he whispered.

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For being so honest and generous. Some wives might have wanted to keep the house or the money from its sale. I’m so glad I married you.’

  She sniffled. ‘Come home, honey. We love you and miss you.’

  ‘I will, as soon as I can. Love you, too. Kiss the kids.’

  He ended the call and toed off his shoes.

  The detectives really had been nice. He wondered if they would be tomorrow, once they realized what he hadn’t given them.

  Wearily, he dug into his pocket for Wes’s cell phone and placed it on the nightstand. He wasn’t sure why he’d kept it, other than it was the one thing he had left that was truly his brother’s. Wes had made Laurel’s graduation photo his wallpaper, and the only other photos he’d kept were of Grant’s kids.

  He’d loved them. Wes had truly loved them.

  Dani Novak was right. Wes had wanted to spare them the pain – and possible incarceration – associated with his mission of vengeance.

  Raguel, the angel of vengeance. Wesley had assumed the role knowing he might not survive it, so he’d left the trail of breadcrumbs.

  Numbly, Grant held up the phone. He breathed a small sigh of relief when it recognized his face. He hadn’t been sure if it would work again. Grant had looked in the mirror and thought that he’d aged twenty years since yesterday, so surely the phone would detect it.

  But it hadn’t. He was now staring at Wesley’s wallpaper again, Wesley and Laurel smiling for the camera.

  How had Wesley known that Laurel was dead? How had he known where to start looking? How had he found Richard Fischer and the Lady of the River?

  The answers were somewhere, of that Grant was certain. Wes had left him a trail to follow, every step of the way. And as he blinked away tears, bringing the photo of Wes and Laurel back into focus, he knew where to find the answers.

  He swiped the phone’s screen, bypassing the normal apps. Wes never bothered with Facebook or Twitter or any other social media. He didn’t play games.

  He had, however, kept safes with the information he wanted Grant to find. And there, on the last page of his phone screen, was a vault app, meant to hide important, personal things from prying eyes.

 

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