Hidden Hearts
Page 12
“Are probably dead already. And that isn’t on you, either.”
His declaration took what was left of her breath away. She could no longer try to deny there was little to no hope in her heart that Julia Fredrickson was alive. She’d lost that hope the moment he’d walked into the conference room and shown her a picture of Penelope Nelson.
Julia was dead. Wherever she was. Wherever that man had taken her. She was gone now. Holly was convinced, and the guilt and shame she felt for not saving her was enough to make her knees go weak.
Sagging against Jack, she exhaled slowly. She didn’t have any fight left in her after his reminder of what she already knew. She wanted to be comforted by his assurances that she wasn’t to blame, but his words couldn’t seem to breach the years of culpability she’d carried.
He stroked her hair. Kissed her head. Then whispered, “What happened to your mom, Holly?”
She slumped against him and closed her eyes, trying to stop the images that were coming at her like flaming arrows from the past. “She…she was murdered when I was eight. My dad was working third shift. We were watching TV before I went to bed, and someone kicked the back door in. Mom hid me behind the couch and told me not to come out. So I didn’t. I could hear her screaming and him telling her to be quiet. Then I could see their feet in the space between the bottom of the couch and the floor as she tried to get away from him. He picked her up and threw her down and…climbed on top of her.” She bit her lips, choking down the sob filling her. “I didn’t understand what I’d witnessed until I got older.”
“Jesus, Holly,” he whispered.
The knot in the throat nearly choked her, but she managed to get the words out anyway, even though they sounded strained. “She kept screaming ‘Help me! Please help me!’ The entire time. When he was done, he stabbed her fourteen times. She stopped screaming after the third one.” Clenching her jaw tight, she forced herself to swallow. “I didn’t come out until my dad got home after he got off work. He found her and started yelling for me. When he pulled me from behind the couch, he tried to shield my eyes, but I saw her lying there covered in blood. She was staring at the ceiling, but…her eyes were empty. Dad had blood all over him, too, from trying to help her. It ended up on my nightgown and in my hair. I remember it was so sticky. I don’t know how many hours went by, but…her blood was sticky. And the smell— The smell of blood still makes me sick.”
“Holly.”
She jolted when he touched her, pulling her from the image in her mind. “I was there, Jack. She was murdered right in front of me, and I didn’t help her.”
“You were a kid.”
“Even so, I could have run. I could have opened the window and screamed.”
“And he would have killed you, too.”
She drew a breath. “I didn’t even try. And when he left, I didn’t go to her. I didn’t get help.”
“You were in shock.”
“I failed her.”
“No,” he breathed. “You were just a kid.”
Pulling from his hold on her, she turned and looked at the whiteboard but didn’t see the notes she’d made there. “My dad blamed me. He never said so, but I could tell. He started drinking. Stopped talking to me. By the time I was thirteen, I was basically on my own. I took care of him the best I could, but I could feel his resentment. I still do.”
“No, Holly—”
“Yes, Jack. I was young, but I was never stupid. I know what I saw in his eyes. That’s why I left. Why I joined the Army. I didn’t have any other way out, and I couldn’t stay. The first time we came under attack in Fallujah, a boy—not much older than I was when my mother died—was kicking a ball down the street. I noticed him because the scene was so normal. Seeing him reminded me of home. The next thing I knew, all hell broke loose. I ran after the kid. How could I not try to save him? Before I could reach him, he was flat on his back with his chest full of shrapnel. He was gasping for air, but blood was coming from his mouth. And you know what he said? ‘Help me. Please help me.’ And I didn’t.”
“You couldn’t. There is a difference.”
She faced him. “No. There isn’t.”
“Your mom was murdered. Your dad chose to drink rather than deal with reality. That boy lived in a warzone. Julia Fredrickson disappeared weeks before her husband asked for your help. Weeks, Holly.”
“Her husband came to me. He stood in this room, right here, and he said, ‘Help me.’ And I promised him—I promised him I would.”
Cupping her face, Jack looked in her eyes. “You have tried. We have tried. And we aren’t giving up. We are going to find them—dead or alive, we’ll find them. But you aren’t to blame. Do you understand me?”
“Jack—”
“You didn’t kill your mother or that kid, and you didn’t kidnap Julia.”
She closed her eyes and lowered her face. She heard his words. Understood them. Even acknowledged their logic. But she didn’t believe them. Something in her couldn’t. “I didn’t save them, either.”
He put his finger under her chin and lifted until she looked at him. “You can blame yourself all you want. I can’t stop you. But at some point, Holly, you have to accept that you can’t save everyone.” Brushing his hand over her hair, he started to lean in and then stopped. “Are you going to hurt me if I kiss you?”
Despite the dark cloud hanging over her soul, her lip twitched with the urge to grin. “That’s a risk you’re going to have to take.”
“It’s worth it.” He put his mouth to hers, but unlike the day before, he kissed her sweetly, letting the tenderness linger. He kissed the corners of her mouth and then her forehead before hugging her to him.
She hugged him back. “Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“Hmm. I’ll try harder next time.” Laughing softly, she leaned back. “Just kidding. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this intimacy thing.”
“Don’t be sorry. Just remember that I get to pin you down next time.” He smiled. “Let’s get out of here so we can stop butting our heads against this particular wall. Just for a bit.”
She couldn’t do anything else to help Julia until she talked to the businesses that could lead to whoever had taken her. Nodding, she pulled away from him and then stopped at the conference room door and looked up at him. “I don’t talk about my parents often. It hurts too much. Thank you for listening.”
Dipping his head, he gently kissed her. “You can talk to me anytime. About anything.” He hugged her to him for a few moments before guiding her out of the office.
“Bringing me to your apartment with takeout isn’t even subtle,” Holly said as Jack unlocked his front door.
He grinned and lifted his brows as he pushed the door open and gestured for her to enter. She’d been quiet when they left her office, but the tension had started to ease out of her muscles as they sat at the pizza joint waiting for their order. He’d followed her there, but she had followed him to his apartment.
With the pizza in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other, she stepped inside and blatantly looked around. “Nice place.”
“I’d love to take credit, but my mom did everything. She even comes over to clean once a week. I won’t deny that.”
Holly smiled as she slid their dinner onto the table. “That’s actually really sweet.”
“You don’t think it makes me a mama’s boy.”
“It definitely makes you a mama’s boy, but coming from someone with no family, that’s not a bad thing.” Shrugging out of her black blazer, she turned and faced him as she draped the material over a chair. “You’re close with her, then?”
He did the same and then put his badge and gun on the table. “I am. And I’ve told her to stop cleaning my house and cooking for me, but she feels it is her responsibility until I’m married.”
“And then it’s your wife’s responsibility?” she asked with that defiant tilt to her brow as she cracked open a beer.
“As modern as my mothe
r is, she still grew up in Egypt. There are different expectations of women in our culture. I don’t share them,” he said before kissing her. “First, I don’t cling to religious tradition, much to my mother’s dismay. Second, I like my women a little butch, remember?”
She laughed. “How does your mother feel about that?”
“I adore my mother, but it’s not her decision who I get involved with.”
She swallowed another gulp of beer. “Glad to know there’s a line in that mother–son relationship. There’s being a mama’s boy, and then there’s being a mama’s boy. The first is sweet. The second is a giant red flag being waved as flares explode.”
Laughing, he carried the pizza to the couch and dropped it on the coffee table before plopping onto the plush cushions. As she sat next to him, setting a bottle of beer in front of him, he flipped the top off the box and grabbed a slice. “I’m assuming you don’t need a plate?”
“Real women eat with their hands.”
He nodded his agreement before stuffing his mouth full. “Just one more thing I respect about you.”
“You know all about me now,” she said, sounding a bit uncertain as she skimmed over the pizza before reaching for the slice with the most pepperoni. “Tell me more about your mom.”
“You remind me of her. In good ways,” he quickly clarified. He took a long pull of his beer before continuing. “She’s the strongest woman I know. Well, one of them anyway.” He winked at Holly.
She shook her head before saying around her food, “You give me too much credit.”
“I don’t.”
Swallowing hard, she grabbed her beer. “You do. But we’re talking about your mother. What makes her so strong?”
“My father didn’t stick around after she got pregnant, and her family was ashamed of her for not being able to keep him happy.”
“She was shunned.”
“You know how some religious traditions can be. I don’t just mean Islam—any religion can show antiquated thoughts—but in a place like Egypt, those views can run deep. She didn’t have anyone to defend her. She came here to live with her cousin. I’m sure her family thought it was a great punishment, but America was much more accepting of single mothers.” He stuffed what was left of his crust into his mouth.
“She is a strong woman.”
He picked up a second slice. “Yeah, but her cousin was great. She got Mom a job at a bakery. She’s been there all these years. She works long hours, but her boss respects her and treats her well. She’s been his business manager for a long time.”
Holly smiled. “That is nice.” She wiped her hands on a napkin. “So how’d you grow up to be a cop?”
He frowned as he dropped his pizza back into the box. “I got in trouble when I was a teenager. Some asshole at school started talking shit about Muslims and saying some pretty terrible things about my mom and her cousin after they came to a basketball game wearing hijabs. I beat the living shit outta that kid. Then it happened again. And a third time.” He laughed, but the sound held tones of regret. “I was on the verge of being expelled, but this counselor stood up for me. Said it was wrong that I got in a fight but it was more wrong that the school wasn’t punishing the kids who were discriminating against my family. He taught me there were other ways to deal with people like that. One was to defend people. In the right way. I thought about college, but the financial burden that would put on my mom was too much. So I went to the police academy instead.”
“Well, it worked out right. You’re a good cop.”
“You would have been a good cop, too, you know.”
She shook her head. “I’m in the right place. It’s tough sometimes, but this is where I should be. HEARTS fits me. Even if I do hate the damn name.”
Laughing as he sat back, he pulled her with him. She rested her head on his chest, and he kissed her head. An unexpected sense of warmth spread through him. Not just lust—he could grasp his lust; this was something else altogether. That same damn nagging that he’d started feeling the first time he’d seen her. Like he’d been waiting his entire life for her to come into it. Running his hand over her hair, he pressed his lips to her head again. “I don’t understand this,” he whispered.
“What?”
“I feel like this is where we’re meant to be. The moment I first looked into your eyes—”
“You mean after I released you and lifted you off the floor?” she asked lightly, clearly trying to lessen the intensity his words had draped over them, but he wasn’t going to allow that. Not right now, not when he needed to say what he’d been thinking.
Brushing his fingers over hers, he pressed on. “Yeah. That’s what I mean. HEARTS fits you, but you fit me. In a way I can’t explain.” He swallowed at the silence that followed his declaration.
Finally she leaned back and met his gaze. “You don’t have to sweet-talk me, Jack. I’m here. I’m interested in…whatever is going on here. But I’m not interested in lies or hollow promises. You don’t have to lie your way between my legs. Okay. Just know that.”
He probably should have been offended by the underlying accusation in her words, but he wouldn’t have expected any less from her. She wanted him to know where she stood. Ready and willing for the sex they both knew was inevitable. But despite her leaving the door open, he wasn’t in this for a quick lay. He wouldn’t turn one down, but he actually thought they deserved to give each other more than that.
“Those weren’t pretty words to get you into bed,” he said honestly. “That was me telling you something that I’ve been wrestling with all week. The fact that I feel it so intensely after just a week is terrifying, but at the same time, being with you feels right. Like this is where I should have been all along.”
She lowered her face and inhaled slowly, clearly debating how to respond. Finally she met his gaze. “I don’t get it, either. But I do feel it.” She spoke quietly, as if saying the words aloud would somehow negate what she was feeling. “I’m connected to you in some way that I don’t understand. It took me months to tell Alexa about my mom. The rest of my teammates don’t even know what I witnessed. But I wanted to tell you the day we met. I wanted you to understand why I’m so hardened. I don’t usually care what people think of me. Actually, I prefer they don’t like me so they keep their distance, but… I wanted you to understand. I need you to understand.”
She gave him what was probably the most flirtatious smile she could muster, and it lit him on fire. The half smile, the hazy look in her eyes, the slight blush on her cheeks—everything about her in that moment made him want her even more, which he hadn’t thought possible.
He tucked her hair behind her ear and lightly traced his finger around the rim before sliding his hand to cup her face. “I do understand, Holly. And I still want you,” he whispered.
Her smile widened. “Good. Because I’m going to take you.”
He laughed quietly. Even in professing their desire for the other, she was pushing her dominance. And he was more than okay with that. Something about her approach didn’t make him feel like he was being subordinate to her—not that he had a problem with being the weaker half. Knowing she was letting him in when she seemed to keep everyone else out was an honor he intended to cherish.
He grabbed her arm and tugged. “Come here,” he whispered.
She moved, straddling his hips and looking down into his eyes as he leaned back on the couch. His heart did a funny little thump as she touched his cheek, brushing her fingers over his whiskers while she searched his eyes. If she was looking for hesitation, she wasn’t going to find it. He wanted her more than he could remember ever wanting anyone else.
He tightened his hold on her hips but didn’t push. She wasn’t one to be pushed. Finally, she dipped her head down and kissed him softly. He wanted so much more than just a light brushing of her mouth on his. He wanted to pull her in, devour her, but he knew her well enough to know he needed to let her set the pace. Even if her pace was driving him insane.
In true Holly fashion, she grasped his hair to stop him from leaning up to catch her mouth again. She smirked as she sat just out of his reach. “I think I let you have enough control last night, don’t you?”
He wanted to protest when she stood, but then she tugged her shirttails from her slacks. Starting at the bottom—likely because she knew the seduction was absolute torture—she released the buttons along her shirt one at a time but stopped short of revealing her body to him.
“Are you trying to make me lose my mind?” he asked when she stood staring at him with a smart-assed grin tugging at her lips.
“Maybe.”
She finally parted the front of her blouse, and heat rushed through his body. Damn, she looked good. He’d known from the way she’d assaulted him that she was in shape, but without her shirt, he could actually see the muscle definition. Her abs weren’t cut into a six-pack, but she was toned and her stomach was taut, and he had a damned hard time remembering how to breathe as he took her in.
The material slipped from her body, and Jack sat forward to reach for her. In response, she lifted her low-heel-covered foot and rested her shoe precariously close to his erection. She cocked her brow in the way that made him crazy—a silent warning that he wasn’t to even think about touching her until she was damn good and ready for him to.
He exhaled a mixture of disappointment and excitement. No woman had ever tried to control sex this way. He wouldn’t have guessed being bossed around was such a turn-on. Sinking back, he swallowed, waiting for her next move.
“Unzip my boot,” she instructed.
He did. Then she switched feet, putting her other foot dangerously close to his groin, and he eased that zipper down. She stepped out of her boots and then released the button on her gray slacks. She pushed her pants over her hips, where they joined her blouse, socks, and boots. And then she was standing before him in a lacy nude-colored bra-and-panty set with her breasts pushed high in the cups.