Alexis’s eyes widened. Rachel’s story sounded eerily similar to Alexis’s. It was hard to believe that the dynamic, confident woman sitting across from her had rebelled against her parents.
“I dated a guy who wasn’t nice to me and isolated me from my family and friends. Not that I objected—as far as I was concerned, nobody cared what happened to me anyway. He was abusive, and I got in over my head. I have Sawyer and my brothers to thank for helping me to see that I was headed down a bad path.”
Damn. Alexis had had a rough life but thankfully never hooked up with an abuser. “And now you’re marrying Sawyer.”
Rachel smiled and rested her hand over her heart. “It may have taken us a long time to get here, but I can’t wait.”
Alexis didn’t know what to say. Rachel’s brothers sounded as protective of her as Justin was… and her sisters. Maybe that wasn’t an exclusive Harper family trait. … And that Sawyer jumped in and helped save her from a bad situation? He sounded a lot like Chris. Could Chris be that person for her?
Rachel tilted her head, studying Alexis. “What are you thinking about? You know I won’t repeat anything you say to me. Sometimes it helps to talk to someone who isn’t so close to the situation.”
Rachel sounded like Alexis’s counselor. But she had a point—there were things she couldn’t share with her family. Maybe not couldn’t… but wouldn’t. “For the past few years, I’ve wondered if I was becoming my father. I drank a lot. I tried to ignore my family, but they wouldn’t let me. Recently I met a guy. Well, it wasn’t that I met him as much as he stopped me from making a big mistake. And we’ve, uh, we’ve been seeing each other.”
Rachel’s eyes brightened and she propped her chin on her hands. “Ooh, interesting. Tell me about him.”
What should she say about Chris? “He’s really considerate of my feelings. The night we met, he walked Bandit for me after he brought me home because I passed out. He listens to me when I talk. And would you believe it, he’s a twin, too. He works for the newspaper, so we have writing in common. And he, just, I don’t know what else to say, he’s great.”
“He sounds pretty wonderful. Has your family met him?”
“I took him to Justin’s cookout last weekend.”
Rachel’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow… talk about throwing him to the wolves. He passed the test?”
“With flying colors.”
Rachel pressed her lips together. “But something’s wrong? Something has you concerned.”
How did Rachel read her so easily? The only other person who understood Alexis so well was Serena and, well, they shared a womb. And Chris was rapidly joining the club. “He was over the other day and…” Heat crept up her cheeks. “… it was really intense. He was emotional about an accident scene he covered. His parents died when he was eighteen, and just last year, his sister was killed. After we, uh, you know, it was as if he withdrew. He left after telling me he needed to be alone, and he has barely texted me since. Before that, I felt as though we were talking as much over text as we were in person, so this is a big change. I’m afraid I said or did something wrong.”
If Rachel was fazed by Alexis talking about sex with Chris, she didn’t let on. “When Sawyer has a tough case at work, he needs time to himself. A lot of men don’t know how to open up about how they feel, and they need time to process it. Can I give you some advice?”
Alexis appreciated Rachel asking before plowing full steam ahead. “Absolutely. I want to know what you think.”
“Let Chris know that you’re there for him. It’s hard to be patient while they work through things themselves, but knowing that you’re there is usually all they need. He’ll open up when he’s ready.”
That sounded like a plan. She and Chris had gotten serious quickly, at least as far as she was concerned, and she could only hope he didn’t regret opening up to her. For so long, she thought she was happy with her life the way it was—living alone, working in a solitary career, and going out with her friends. But since she’d met Chris, she’d glimpsed another path. A life like her brother and sisters had. Like Rachel had found with Sawyer.
For the first time, Alexis wanted to reach out and grab the brass ring. Did Chris feel the same?
Regardless, talking to Rachel had made her feel better. Not just about her relationship with Chris, but about Rachel and her role in their family. Alexis hopped up from her chair and threw her arms around Rachel. “Thank you so much. I hate the way it happened, but I’m really glad that you’re my sister.”
Rachel laughed and hugged her tight. “Me, too.”
Chapter 20
Chris bounced his knee to the point that the plastic chair squeaked against the linoleum floor in the lobby of the Sheriff’s department. When he’d received Detective Balkin’s message that he had news, Chris hadn’t bothered to call him back. Whatever the detective had to say about Robin’s case, Chris wanted to hear in person. It was the least he could do for his sister—to ensure her killer paid for his crime.
But he’d been sitting in this incredibly uncomfortable chair for almost thirty minutes, and the detective still hadn’t made an appearance.
He hopped up and paced across the floor, stopping at the dispatcher’s desk. “Does Detective Balkin know I’m here?”
“He’s just wrapping up a few things, Mr. Kennedy. I’m sure he’ll be out soon.”
He’d been told the same thing the last three times he’d asked. It didn’t make the waiting any easier.
Finally, the sound of shoes squeaked down the hall, and the detective rounded the corner. He extended his hand. “Chris, I’m sorry to keep you waiting. Come on back.”
Chris walked down the same hall he’d traversed each and every time he’d been here to discuss Robin’s case with the detective, starting with the very first time after he officially identified Robin’s body. Hopefully this one would have a more positive outcome. When they entered the detective’s office, Detective Balkin motioned to the visitor’s chair. “Have a seat.”
“I think I’ll stand, if that’s okay.”
The detective snatched an overflowing file folder from his desk, slipping a paper off the top. It contained a photo of a man about Chris’s age with buzz-cut hair and a telltale orange jump suit. Mug shot.
He looked… normal. Like someone Chris would hang out with. Except for the jump suit. “Is this him?”
“We apprehended him last night after tracking down an anonymous tip called in last week. He hasn’t confessed yet, but we have physical and DNA evidence linking him to the crime scene and a witness who finally came forward and admitted that he saw him with your sister that night at FitzGerald’s. I’m comfortable saying that we’ve got our guy.”
Chris sank into the chair the detective had initially offered him. The image of the bastard that killed his sister blurred beneath his watery eyes. Had Robin met him before and thought he was a nice guy or had she been suspicious from the beginning? What if one of those witnesses had stepped in and protected his sister? Would she still be here today?
He swiped the tears off his cheeks. It did him no good to play the “what if” game. He’d run every possible scenario through his mind in the past year, and it would never bring Robin back. But it did make him even more grateful that he’d seen Alexis with that jerk and stopped him from taking her home that night. Not that this was the same guy, but Alexis still could have ended up like Robin.
“What’s next?” From his years working for the paper, he had a general idea, but he’d never had to consider the process personally.
“We’re not done interviewing him, and I’m hoping we can get him to confess and accept a plea deal. If not, he’ll be arraigned, which simply means he’ll be formally charged. And then a grand jury will indict him, and we’ll proceed to trial. The commonwealth’s attorney will receive the complete file in two or three days.”
“Doesn’t a deal mean he does less time?” Chris wanted this bastard to rot in jail for the rest of his life for w
hat he’d done to Robin. To ensure he could never do it to another woman again.
“It does, but it also means he’s off the streets.”
Black spots floated in front of Chris’s eyes and his ears buzzed. This was too much information for him to process right now. His chest tightened and he couldn’t catch his breath—it felt as if he was breathing through a straw. He leapt up, the photo hitting the floor. “Thank you for sticking with this case. For getting justice for Robin. Please keep me updated, but right now, uh, I need to go. I need to think about all this.”
He didn’t wait for the detective’s response before he beat a path down the hall and out the front door into the bright sunlight. He sagged against the brick front of the building, sucking in a few breaths of clean, fresh air.
“Oh, Robin. I miss you so much,” he whispered to himself. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. But I promise you, he’ll pay for what he did to you.” Chris sank to the ground, his knees bent. A couple with a small child walked by, the girl swinging their arms between them. A woman passed him with her dog on a leash. People were going about their day without a care while his world had just been shattered. Again.
His phone buzzed on his belt. No way was he able to talk to anyone right now. Instead he rested his head on the wall and closed his eyes until the pain in his chest started to subside. He thought he’d stuffed his grief so far down that it could no longer paralyze him, but seeing the photo of the man who killed his sister brought it all back as raw as the day she was killed.
His hip vibrated again, this time twice, indicating text instead of a call. Dammit, he wanted to ignore it, but what if it was a problem at the paper? He ripped the device off his hip, but it wasn’t either of them.
“Thinking about you. Hope you’re doing okay. I’m here if you need to talk… or if you don’t.”
Alexis. He stared at her words for a long time. He was being a jerk to her, pulling back without being honest. He could never love her the way she deserved to be loved because he wasn’t whole. And that wasn’t fair to her.
Yet she seemed to have known exactly the right time to text him and the right thing to say. Without a doubt, she was too good for him.
He at least owed it to her to update her about what was going on. To let her down easy. “Can I come over tonight?” His thumb hovered over the keyboard, debating whether to add anything else. Before he could stop himself, his fingers flew over the keyboard. “I’ve missed you.”
That wasn’t fair to her. Not if they didn’t have a future together. He deleted the last phrase and simply left it at the question and then pressed send.
The “Delivered” changed to “Read” and then three dots flashed on his screen. “Sounds great. I’ll make dinner. How about 7?”
He acknowledged her text and then rose to his feet and shoved his phone in his pocket. Enough with the wallowing. It did no one any good, and Robin would be laughing her ass off if she could see him now.
Chapter 21
Alexis dipped the wooden spoon into the pan and brought the red sauce to her lips. After a few breaths to cool the liquid, she snaked her tongue out and tasted. Perfect. She lifted the lid on the stockpot and dropped the pasta into the boiling water.
She glanced at her phone. Five minutes to seven. Chris would be here any minute.
Bandit yipped at her heels, and Alexis scratched between his ears. “I know you’re excited, buddy. He’ll be here in a few minutes. How about you go potty so I don’t have to worry about you later?” Like when she wanted to be alone with Chris. Bandit did his business in the back yard and made a beeline for his bed the minute he scampered in the door.
While she waited for the pasta to finish, she recalled her conversation with Rachel. Talking to her had helped Alexis more than expected. Her sister—and she was still processing calling her that—had insight that no one else had been able to give her. To know that Rachel too had recovered from some rough life choices inspired Alexis.
She was heeding Rachel’s advice. She would be here for Chris. If he wanted to talk, she’d listen. If he didn’t want to talk about whatever was bothering him, it would be hard for her, but she’d sit and be silent with him.
If he wanted to make love… well, that was a different story all together. She’d picked out her bra and panty set just for him.
She squeezed her thighs together as she remembered the last time they’d made love. It was almost as if a different Chris had come over that day—a hardened and angry version of the Chris she knew. Surprisingly, she appreciated intense, upset Chris as much as tender, loving Chris.
She grabbed the salad tongs out of the bowl and flipped the lettuce. She’d tossed it already, but tossing the salad gave her something to do with her hands while she ignored the timer as it counted down the final few minutes.
Just as she poured sauce onto the pasta, the doorbell rang. Bandit leapt out of his bed and scurried toward the front door. Alexis grabbed a towel and wiped her hands as she crossed the house at a more sedate pace.
On the other side of the door, Chris was hunched over as though he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, his back to her as he faced the street. When he heard the door, he spun around and forced a smile. Nothing like the beaming ones he typically turned her way.
She stood back and welcomed him in. As soon as the door closed, he gathered her in his arms. She drew in a deep breath, soaking in the moment of being with him like this, feeling safe and… loved. It had only been a few days since she’d seen him, but those few days felt like forever.
He held onto her for a long time, neither of them speaking, and then he pulled back. “Thanks. I needed that.”
She smiled up at him. Something definitely troubled him. It hurt her to see him hurting so much. “Come on in. I just finished dinner.”
He linked his fingers with hers and she squeezed his hand. When they reached the kitchen, they worked together to get dinner on the small table in her breakfast nook. She could get used to this—spending time with Chris at the end of each day, sharing a meal and talking about their work and music and current events. And then crawling into bed and making love.
For the first few minutes, they ate in silence, only the whispering swish of the ceiling fan as background noise. That was okay. She could be patient.
Finally, Chris swallowed a gulp of iced tea and lowered his glass to the table. “I had a meeting at the Police department today.”
They hadn’t talked about his sister since he’d revealed the horror behind her death. She covered his hand with hers. “What happened?”
He stared at her hand for a moment and then flipped his over and threaded their fingers. “They’ve caught the man who killed Robin. At least the one they think killed her.”
Oh, my God. Based on his previous description of the case, it had been doubtful they’d ever find her killer. But to identify a suspect and arrest him? “That’s great. I know it has been frustrating for you that it’s taken this long.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. “I guess. Yeah, it’s good.”
“What do you mean? Is there a problem with the case?”
“Not exactly. It’s just that the bastard hasn’t confessed.” He hopped up and paced across the room. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel anymore. Am I supposed to be happy because he was caught or pissed off that he won’t own up to what he’s done? Do I want him to plead guilty for a lesser sentence or go to trial and risk acquittal? It’s all jumbled in my mind.”
She couldn’t bear to see him so upset, so rattled, so unlike the confident Chris who had pulled her out of what could have been a similar situation just a few weeks ago. She crossed the room and wrapped her arms around him. “I can’t imagine what you are going through. Just take your time. You don’t have to know how to feel or how to react. Maybe you can think about Robin and remember the good times you had together. Think about what she would want you do to.”
He chuckled and leaned back so he coul
d look her in the eye. “I did that earlier today. She’d kick my ass for being such a wuss about all this.”
“If you need help with that, I’m sure my brother would oblige.” She released him and led him back to the table. Her attempt to lighten the conversation did the trick. Not that she wouldn’t listen if he wanted to talk, but she sensed that he needed to get out of his own head more than he needed to ruminate the horrors.
Chris took another bite of pasta. “This is really good. Thank you for making dinner. It really hit the spot.”
“Thanks. It’s a family recipe that my father got from his mother. I think it goes back to somewhere in Italy. I’m not a very good cook … except for Dad’s pasta.”
“This is definitely the best pasta I’ve ever had.” He took another bite and chased it with his tea. “I’m sorry I’ve been out of touch recently. It’s been, well, it’s just been a shitty few days.”
“I’m sure with the accident… and now this.”
“It’s more than that. I’m just sorting a lot out in my head.”
She sensed he was holding back from her. That there was more he wanted to say, but he stopped short. She didn’t want to borrow trouble, so she let it go.
“How’s your book going?”
She smiled. Since she’d met Chris, her muse had pulled up a chair and made herself at home. “Really great. My story turned the corner and I’m headed down the home stretch. I’ve reached a point where I can see the end. I’ve been writing for a long time, and I have a bunch of stories that will never see the light of day, but this book is feeling like it’s gonna be really good.”
“I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. I have a phone call with my editor in a couple of days, and I can’t wait to share it with him. What about you? Any exciting articles crossing your desk?” She wished she could suck the words back into her mouth the minute she said them. The last time he was here, he was upset over the road rage incident.
Chasing Strength: A Harper Family Romance Page 19