by Dawn Altieri
Jake shook his head. “No.” But what if he could? Adam was with her, but that was the only countermeasure in place.
“Okay. We keep her at your place for now,” O’Shea said thoughtfully, “and then we get her someplace where he can get to her.”
Jake shot his gaze back to O’Shea at the outrageous suggestion. “Are you out of your mind?”
“No. This could work.” O’Shea stood up, the wheels of a plan obviously in motion in his head. “Jake, you’re coming to the gala.”
“But—”
“That’s an order. And you’re bringing Emma with you.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
“That’s it,” Lauren declared as Emma stepped into view at the top of the spiral staircase. “That is your dress.”
“Holy shit, Em,” Matt said from his spot on the sofa. “Seriously, just, holy shit.”
Emma’s gaze darted between them. “You’re sure?”
“Positive,” Lauren answered, glancing around Jake’s living room. “He doesn’t have a full-length mirror in this place, does he?”
Emma lifted the bottom of the dress, shuffled down the steps, and headed to the small bathroom off the kitchen to check her reflection in the mirror on the back of the door.
“Wow,” she whispered.
The sweetheart neckline of the sapphire blue gown added the illusion of at least one extra cup size to her bust line, and the lower portion of the dress was perfectly fitted, flaring out slightly just above her knee. Being the same size as her best friend definitely had its advantages. The dress belonged on a red carpet, not on the rack of the Fifth Avenue boutique where Lauren had found it.
Her friend rose from the sofa and stood next to Emma, spinning her so she could get a look at the back. “See what I mean? It looks a hundred times better on you than it did on me.”
From every angle, the dress looked amazing. “It’s perfect.”
Emma wasn’t certain why Jake had invited her to the department’s annual dinner—as reluctant as the invitation had sounded. No doubt it was simply his way of keeping an eye on her on an evening he and Adam couldn’t stay at the apartment. But she was excited to go, despite his warning they’d have to be discreet about their relationship amid his colleagues and superiors.
At least she’d be safe, with a good portion of the city’s police force in attendance.
“If that man hasn’t jumped you already,” Lauren said, “he will when he sees you in this.”
Emma remained silent, busying herself with smoothing the fabric across her stomach.
Lauren grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to turn around. “He has jumped you already, hasn’t he?”
Emma fought the sly smile she felt creeping onto her face.
“I knew it! I could tell just by looking at you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emma pulled away to study her reflection again.
“Oh, Em, even with all this bullshit going on, you’re absolutely glowing. How was it?”
Matt cleared his throat with a scowl on the other side of the room. “Hello? Still here.”
“Please, Matt. Your virgin ears?” Lauren playfully nudged Emma’s shoulder. “So?”
She shrugged shyly. “I’m glowing, aren’t I?”
Matt rose to his feet and crossed over to her. “Just be careful, okay? Remember what we talked about at the beginning of all this.”
She nodded and gazed up at him, thankful he’d agreed to come over today. She hadn’t seen him in weeks and she’d missed him. Matt was one of the few people she’d always been able to trust and rely on. When he’d urged her to be cautious about getting involved with Jake, somehow the sentiment had seemed so much more sincere than Ben’s had. He didn’t have ulterior motives like Ben. Matt and Lauren both just wanted to see her happy.
“Thanks, guys,” Emma said. “For picking up the dress, for coming by and bringing back a little normalcy to my life.”
“Hey, you didn’t say anything about normal when you called,” Matt joked. “You might have the wrong people here.”
Emma laughed, something that hadn’t come all that easily to her lately. “Okay, let me get out of this before I rip it or something.” She hurried over to the spiral steps and made her way up.
She returned, back in her jeans and T-shirt, just as the door to the apartment opened. Jake walked in along with Adam, who’d stationed himself out in the hallway earlier to give her some privacy with her friends.
“Hey,” Jake said and tossed his keys on the kitchen island. His face took on the same expression he’d had at the beach house when she’d enlisted Adam’s help with the garden. Confusion—and maybe a touch of annoyance—that her friends were there in his apartment. “What’s going on?”
“Lauren picked up a dress for me, for the gala. Remember, you wouldn’t let me go shopping?”
The tension in his forehead eased, but only slightly.
“We’re almost exactly the same size, so I was able to find something that would fit,” Lauren said.
“And Matt came along for some company,” Emma added before he had a chance to ask. She lowered her gaze and her voice, as though what she was about to say was a secret, or something to be ashamed of. “I just wanted to see my friends.”
The annoyance melted from Jake’s features. He nodded and touched his fingers to her elbow. “It’s okay.” He turned to Matt. “Actually, I’m glad you’re here. I’ve talked to just about everyone else Emma knows, hoping for some help with the investigation. Do you have a few minutes?”
Matt glanced at his watch with a frown. “Right now, I don’t.” He lifted his gaze to Emma. “I’m meeting with a couple of the guys from Liberty. They’re planning on having a decision about the job offer by the end of the week.”
“Oh, that’s great,” she said. He’d been trying to land this job for so long.
“No problem,” Jake said, reaching into his jacket for a business card. “Can you give me a call as soon as you get a chance? It’s really important.”
“Yeah, sure.” Matt took the card and glanced down at it. “Whatever I can do to help.”
They said their goodbyes and Jake led Matt and Lauren to the door. Once they were gone, he faced Emma again. “So you’ve got a dress?”
She could barely contain her excitement. “Yes, I do.”
“That was fast. I hope you didn’t spend too much money on something new.”
“Well, believe it or not, I haven’t been to a black-tie affair in a long time, so I wanted to get something special.” The few formal dresses she did own, she’d already worn with Justin, and it didn’t feel right to recycle one of them for an evening with Jake, no matter how platonic they were pretending to be. Besides, those dresses were all back at her apartment, possibly torn to shreds. She shook off the thought, struggling to focus on the positive. “Lauren was all over the chance to dress me up. Besides, I’m going to be meeting a lot of your colleagues. I want to look nice for you.”
“You always look nice. More than nice.” He kissed her cheek, hovering a little to whisper close to her ear, “One of these days I’m going to buy you a burlap sack, just to see if I can get a hard-on looking at you in that, too.”
Her cheeks flared with the warmth of a blush. “Do you want to see it?”
She stepped away from him to go up to the bedroom to fetch it, but he grasped her arm and pulled her back to him. “Emma, wait. There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
His playful expression had been replaced with a look so serious it made her heart drop into her stomach. “What happened?”
He wrapped his hands around hers, rubbing his thumbs across her knuckles. “I found an envelope on the Tahoe outside the precinct.”
She gasped and tried to pull her hands away, but he held on. “What was in it?”
“More l
ilacs.”
She tugged harder until he released her, and she turned to face the windows. She’d almost put it out of her mind while they’d indulged in their beach getaway—the reason she was holed up in his apartment. How could she have forgotten?
“He also sent a note. He knew we’d left the city.”
She spun to face Jake. “He followed us?”
“I don’t know, but he knew we were gone. The note didn’t say if he knew where we’d been, but he warned me not to take you away from him again.”
She nodded, struggling to process it all. Tears burned her eyelids, but she didn’t want to cry, not in front of Jake. He’d seen her do enough of that already. “Okay. I-I think I’ll take a shower.”
Jake’s features twisted in concern. “Yeah, okay.”
She gave him a quick kiss and headed toward the staircase.
“Do you need anything?” he called after her. “I could make you something to eat.”
“That would be awesome. I’ll be quick.”
She hurried up the stairs into the bedroom and paused for a moment to get her bearings. Most of her clothes were still on the floor of the walk-in closet, in the bags they’d thrown together after the break-in at her apartment. She grabbed a pair of yoga pants and a T-shirt, something comfortable to throw on after her shower, and went into the bathroom.
With the faucet on full force, she stepped under the water…and finally gave in to a steady stream of tears.
The magnitude of it all hit her again—the photos she’d seen over and over on the news, pictures so vivid in her mind she could envision what those women had been like alive. They’d all died because they’d reminded some madman of her. A madman who could be hunting down another woman at this very moment…
How was she supposed to live with that? The guilt was overwhelming, crushing her chest as she held her face in her hands. Hot water pounded her back. She reached for the shampoo bottle but grasped the shelf instead. She slid to the floor, curled into a fetal position, and wept, her body wracked by sobs.
Jake’s knock on the bathroom door startled her back to the present. “Emma? You okay? You’ve been in there for a while.”
She couldn’t answer him; she could barely breathe. What little air she had was coming in short, quick bursts as she gasped between sobs.
“Emma?” he called again, then cracked open the bathroom door. “Oh God, Emma!” He threw open the shower door and fell to his knees, fully dressed, under the steady stream of water. He pulled her into his lap. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
She still couldn’t get enough air to manage an answer.
“Please, Emma.” He rocked her back and forth, stroking the back of her head. “Say something.”
She collapsed against his shoulder, his strong arms protecting and comforting her. “I’m so sorry,” she choked out.
“What? No.” He shook his head as he pushed her wet hair away from her face. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
She looked up at him, still nearly panting. “You’re wrong. This is all my fault. All the deaths…everything.”
“No, it isn’t.” He squeezed her against him and resumed rocking her. “You can’t blame yourself. It’s going to be okay.”
“No, it won’t,” she said, shaking her head. “Not until you catch him and put him away.”
Jake rested his cheek against her temple. “We will, baby. I promise you, we will.”
Air began to reach her lungs as she curled closer in his lap, weeping into his soaked T-shirt. “Your clothes. You’re getting all wet.”
“It’s just water.” He took off his shoes and tossed them out of the stall, then leaned back against the tiled wall. Water cascaded over them both as he hugged her against his chest. “Did you fall or something? Are you hurt?”
Yes. She was hurt. With tremendous pain…which he had no power to ease. The guilt, the sadness, the fear—there was nothing he could do to make all that go away.
She shook her head. “I’m just a mess.”
“No, you’re not. You’re handling this far better than anyone could possibly expect.” He held her quietly for a long time, until the fingers stroking her shoulder had become wrinkled from the water. “Do you want to get out and dry off?”
She glanced up at him through swollen eyes. “I haven’t washed my hair yet.”
“Okay.” He gently slid her off his lap, and when she attempted to stand, he stopped her. “No, stay there.”
She stared up at him as he unzipped his jeans. “What are you doing?”
“Give me a minute. Wet denim is a bitch.”
She remained on the floor of the shower, hugging her knees to her chest while he stripped down to his boxer briefs. Then he took the bottle of shampoo off the shelf and sat down behind her. With a gentle touch, he swept her hair behind her shoulders, poured shampoo into the palm of his hand, and massaged it onto her head.
She’d forgotten how comforting this could be—having someone wash her hair. Other than the shampoo girl at the salon, no one had done it in a very long time. Not even her mother when she was little. She finally began to relax.
He took the hand-held nozzle off its hook and used it to rinse the lather away, then picked up the bottle of conditioner. “This, too?”
She nodded, and he repeated the process. When he finished, he pulled her back to rest against his shoulder, and she exhaled deeply, wishing all her anxiety could simply wash right down the drain like the shampoo.
“Better?” he asked.
“Much.”
He reached over to the shelf again and picked up her razor, wiggling it in front of her until she chuckled through a hiccup. He sure had a knack for lightening a mood.
“You’re going to shave my legs?”
“Not if you don’t want me to.”
He tipped his head so he could see her face, and she nodded with a wobbly grin. “Knock yourself out,” she said with a combination of a sniffle and a laugh.
“You’re laughing. I’ll take that as a good sign.” He took the pink can of shaving cream and shook it before spraying some of the foam onto her knee.
“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” she asked skeptically.
He gripped her ankle, stretched her leg out, and tilted his head. “I’ve been shaving for well over a decade. I think I can handle it.”
“A leg is a little different than a face.”
“You can do me next,” he said as he spread the foam down her shin.
He ran the razor carefully along her skin, and her heart swelled. No one had ever taken care of her like this, so gently, so intimately.
And he thought he didn’t know how to do relationships.
When he finished one leg, she gladly extended the other, after which he used the sprayer to rinse away the remaining foam. He grabbed his own razor from the shelf, offering it to her along with the can of shaving cream. “Your turn.”
“You’re serious?” she asked, and he nodded. “I’ve never done this before.”
He placed the razor into her hand. “I trust you. And God knows I need a shave.”
“Hmm…” She gingerly touched the overgrown scruff on his cheek. She was pretty sure he hadn’t shaved all weekend while they were at the beach house. “You do.”
“Not a fan of the mountain man look, are you?”
“Not usually. But it’s kind of sexy on you.”
Everything about him was sexy, from his looks to his courage, to the way he took care of her. In just minutes, he’d managed to bring her back from the edge of a breakdown, and now he actually had her acting silly.
She took his chin in her hand and turned his face from side to side. “Maybe we could try a goatee.”
He grimaced. “No, thanks. Just take it all off.”
She pulled back in surprise. “I think you�
�d look good with a goatee.”
“Nah. Too much maintenance. I can’t be bothered with that.”
“Suit yourself.” She sprayed some of the foam into her hand but stopped short of putting it on his face. “I honestly don’t know how to do this.”
He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and guided her hand to his cheek, helping her spread the foam around. “Just relax. You’ll be fine. I trust you.”
He tipped his head back so she could stroke the razor along his chin and over his jaw and neck. It was easier than she’d expected. After a few swipes, she rinsed the razor and did a few more, and soon the task was complete.
He ran his hand over his face, wiping away the remnants of the foam. “See that? You did great. Thank you.” He pulled her back onto his lap, kissed her tenderly, and held her again.
She rested her head on his shoulder once more and drew in several deep, renewing breaths. “Can I ask you something?”
“I told you, you can always ask me anything.”
“Why did you leave your boxers on?”
He snorted a laugh. “Look at you, all naked and wet. I needed something to prevent myself from completely ravishing you. That’s the last thing you need right now.”
She lifted her face to his. “Maybe that’s exactly what I need right now.”
He brushed a wet strand of hair away and ran his palm down her cheek, then got serious. “I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”
“It’s not your fault.”
He shook his head stubbornly. “I should’ve caught this prick by now. If I can’t keep you safe—”
“I’m safe with you.”
His jaw clenched, and the sadness in his eyes broke her heart. She regretted ever doubting him, ever questioning him as a detective. Even though he’d done everything he could to protect her, he still couldn’t stop blaming himself. What more could he have done in such an impossible situation?
He pulled her to him. His chest rose and fell beneath her cheek for several long moments. “You asked me something the other day, about my mom.”