Rogue

by Izzy Gomez

  He understood her need to give her father the news. But the urge to protect her hammered at him. He pulled her hand away from her face and tilted her chin up. “Are you sure?”

  Her eyes searched his face. If only he knew what she was looking for. In that moment, he would give her anything.

  “No. I’m not sure of anything anymore. But how can I let it come from you and Al? As shitty as this is for me, it’s a thousand times worse for him. He should at least hear it from someone who cares.”

  She was right, of course. He wanted her to go home and pamper herself but she wouldn't. In her place, neither would he.

  He dug in his pocket. “I need to get back.” He twisted his house key off the ring and slid it into her palm.

  “What’s this?”

  “You shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He wrapped his arms around her. Pressed his lips to her hair. She smelled good. Warm and fresh. So very normal. Holding her felt normal.

  What he wouldn’t give for a little normal.

  “After you talk to your dad, go back to my place. Stay there tonight.”

  He expected resistance. Instead her shoulders relaxed. “Thank you."

  “I wish there was more I could do.”

  She sagged against him, fingers twisting into his shirt. “I do too.”

  He closed his eyes and tried to enjoy holding her. Unfortunately, reality wouldn’t let him. “I need to go.”

  She pulled out of his arms and immediately wrapped hers around her waist. “I’ll, um.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll see you later.”

  He should say something else. Something encouraging, or comforting. Something to ease the desolation in her eyes.

  “We’ll get through this.” Once again, not even close to adequate.

  With a tight-lipped nod, she got in her car. He made himself walk away so he wouldn’t watch her drive off.

  Voegler and Roundy were in discussions as Greg approached. Voegler’s narrowed gaze zeroed in on Greg such that his hair stood on end. Greg returned the stare with an expression more ballsy than he felt.

  “It should go without saying, but I’ll say it anyway,” Voegler said.

  Roundy cast an uneasy glance between them.

  Greg just raised his eyebrows.

  “I like you, Cole. You’re a good cop and you seem like a decent person. But hurt her, and you might as well leave town. Because if I find you, I will kill you.”

  Light shone from the kitchen window when Amanda pulled into the driveway. The clock on her dashboard said 8:23. Almost Dad’s bedtime.

  She let herself in, hesitating as she approached the kitchen. Had it only been six days since she’d done this before. She’d jinxed herself that night, thinking it couldn’t get worse than having to tell her dad about Karen. She knew better.

  It could always get worse.

  Standing outside the kitchen door, she drew a deep breath and held it. It did nothing to settle her nerves. She’d rather clean a million litter boxes than have this conversation.

  Here goes nothing. She forced her feet to move. “Dad?”

  She found him at the kitchen table, mug between his hands, eyes unfocused. Rocky sat at his side, chin resting on his knee, but he didn’t seem aware of the dog.

  Rocky looked at her and whined.

  “Hey, Rocky.” She held out her hand but he just gave her a sad look and set his head back on Dad’s leg.

  “Dad?” she said, louder this time.

  Still no response. She pulled out the chair across from him and sat.

  “Dad,” she snapped. “We need to talk.”

  After an endless moment, he turned and focused on her “It’s late. I’m not in the mood.”

  Under the table, her hands squeezed into fists. She forced her fingers open, stretching and wiggling them to dispel the tension.

  Like it could help.

  No sense beating around the bush. “We found Hank.”

  She watched him for a reaction but his expression didn’t so much as flicker. He was going to make her say it.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. He’s dead.”

  This time something did register on his face but it was gone before she could identify it.

  “Dad?” She leaned forward, trying to force herself into his sightline. “Hank was killed."

  He finally met her gaze but his face remained void of emotion.

  Everyone reacted to bad news differently; God knew she’d seen the whole spectrum. But she’d never seen this utter lack of reaction. It was eerie. She had to concentrate to not shiver.

  “Dad. I—“

  “I heard you!”

  Dad shoved back from the table and slammed his fist on the placemat. Coffee sloshed out of his mug. His chair clattered over. Rocky skittered out of the way, yelping.

  “I heard you! What do you want? I put my wife in the ground yesterday and now you tell me my son is dead. The one you arrested for killing her. So what is it you want me to say?”

  She’d never seen Dad like this. Never seen his face this red and twisted. “I’m sorry, Dad. I—“

  He slapped the table, spilling more coffee. Rocky barked.

  “Sorry? You’re sorry? I don’t see you shedding many tears.”

  She jerked back in her chair, reeling from what might as well have been a physical blow. The man in front of her bore a resemblance to her father, but he may as well be a stranger. The man she knew didn’t attack his children. Yes, he’d hurt her over the years with what he hadn’t done and what he’d allowed to happen. Never, though, had he gone on the attack.

  “That’s not fair. How can you even say that?”

  “Oh no? So you’ve been crying yourself to sleep every night like your sister?” His voice dripped venom as he hurled the words at her.

  “Just because I’m not going into mourning doesn’t mean I don’t grieve.” She struggled to keep her head above water as the conversation whirled away from her. How had this become about her?

  “You never liked Karen. Don’t tell me you’re sorry she’s gone. And you’re not too fond of Hank either.”

  Amanda’s heart stung from the lashes of his accusations. Tears burned the back of her throat and in her eyes but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how deep his words cut. "I don't—"

  “She may not have been mother of the year, but at least she was here. That’s a hell of a lot more than you can say for your own mother.”

  As if Amanda was singing Mom’s praises. She’d gotten screwed twice in the Mother Department. “Saying she was better than Mom is hardly a glowing endorsement. And Karen was more than just here. God, I wish all she’d been was here.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “If she’d ignored us it would have been tolerable. Hard, but tolerable.” Why were they rehashing this? She did her best to forget those lonely years. Why was Dad bringing it up now? Why was he doing this to himself?

  “But she went out of her way to make our lives miserable. She—“

  “How dare you say that!” Dad’s face was bright red, approaching purple. His sneer made him almost unrecognizable.

  “How dare I?” Exasperation surged up to join the anger and hurt hurling through her.

  “She was your mother.”

  “Yeah, well, she lacked any maternal feelings toward me or Todd.”

  “She never did anything but provide for and take care of you.”

  “You call how she treated us taking care of us?" Now that he'd started her down this road, Amanda couldn't stop. If he wanted to do this, she would oblige. "She made us miserable. She went out of our way to make sure we knew Emily and Hank were more important. She told us, point blank, we were nothing.”

  Dad leaned across the table, invading her space. She hadn’t realized she’d stood up until Dad was almost nose to nose with her.

  “She never—“

  “She did. Repeatedly.” Amanda closed her eyes and stepped back. “And worse, Dad, you let her. You were our father, and y
ou let her.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  She stared at him. Once upon a time, in a completely different life, she’d looked up to him. Even idolized him a little. The way little girls worshiped their daddies.

  Now? She still loved him, because he was her father. But she could no longer say for certain she liked him. He was weak and small. Mostly, she pitied him.

  Exhaustion swamped her and she dropped into her chair. “Yes. You did.” She pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. Bright spots danced behind her lids. “It was your job to protect us. Instead we had to fend for ourselves. We were just kids.”

  Tense silence stretched out between them. The clock in the living room grew louder with each tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

  Todd told her once he fantasized about taking down that clock and smashing it to pieces with his baseball bat. Karen inherited it from her grandparents and loved the intricate wood carving and old-fashioned gears.

  What else had Todd fantasized about doing to get revenge on Karen? And what had he actually done?

  She couldn’t go there. Soon she would be forced to, but not yet.

  “Dad, we need—“

  “Leave.” Dad still stood, looming over her. The contempt was gone from his voice. The color had drained from his face, leaving him pale and drawn.

  “I’m sorry.” What was she apologizing for? He was the one who attacked her. Still, it seemed like the right thing to say. “I didn’t mean for—“

  “Just go.”

  Fine. She didn’t want to talk either. Pulling her keys from her pocket, she stood and started for the door. “It’s going to get worse before it gets better.” He deserved a warning. She wasn’t ready to think about it, but she knew where the investigation would lead them next.

  “What the hell does that mean?” Some of the color flared back in his face.

  “It’s means… there’s more coming.” How did she say it without voicing what she knew but couldn’t yet prove? Hell, she couldn't even admit it to herself yet. “Call Emily. Have her come over. You shouldn’t be alone tonight.”

  “What about you?

  She paused and looked over her shoulder. His eyes held their first glimmer of compassion, even if it was overshadowed by wariness. “What about me?”

  “You shouldn’t be alone either.”

  She sucked in a long, slow breath. She wouldn’t read anything into his words. “I’ll be fine. I’m good at being alone.”

  Naked, Greg slid under the covers and scooted over to curl around Amanda from behind. His wet clothes lay in a pile in the corner and he was too tired to dig around in the dark for fresh boxer briefs or pajamas. The rain had started an hour ago, drenching everyone working the crime scene. He was cold, wet and tired. Amanda’s warm body felt like nirvana.

  She looked at him over her shoulder. “Hey.” Her voice was thick with sleep.

  He pressed a kiss behind her ear. “Hey. Didn’t think you’d be awake.”

  “Can't sleep.”

  He slid his arm around her and pulled her back against him. “I’m sorry.” His hand found soft skin. Was she naked too? Not good. He was exhausted. It was after 2:00.

  But naked man plus naked woman plus bed equaled…oh man. She’d been so damn sexy earlier, writhing against his mouth. Moaning his name.

  Yep, parts of him were wide awake.

  His hand slid over her hip and stopped. Underpants. Underpants were good. Underpants would keep him from doing something embarrassing, like seducing her, then falling asleep in the middle of sex. He’d actually done that once.

  He settled for holding her tight against his chest but keeping his hips safely angled away. No need to tempt himself. Or let her know he couldn’t keep his mind on more important things.

  “How’d your dad take it?”

  Her body went rigid. “Not well.”

  Silence stretched between them in the dark. He could feel her holding her breath.

  He wouldn’t press her for the full story. Not tonight. She deserved relaxation. They could talk later.

  “I’m sorry.” He turned her face to his and brushed his lips across hers. They tasted faintly salty. Like tears.

  He felt nauseous thinking of her crying alone in his bed. He should have been with her.

  “We should try to get some sleep.” He kissed her again. Softer. Sweeter. Trying to apologize with his lips.

  The whites of her eyes glowed as she searched his face. What did she see? Could she tell how much he ached for her? How much he wanted to make it all go away?

  Slowly her breath eased from her chest and her body softened.

  He tucked her into the curve of his shoulder. She fit perfectly. Was it wrong to enjoy the moment when she must be destroyed inside?

  How was it, with everything going wrong, he could fall asleep feeling so right?

  Amanda turned off the shower and pulled back the curtain. As she secured the towel around her, movement caught her eye. Startled, she stepped back.

  Greg grinned. Wearing only boxer briefs, he rinsed his toothbrush. “Morning.”

  She let her gaze wander over his body. He was so lean and tight, so beautifully male. The tent in his shorts made her mouth water. Too bad they didn’t have time.

  Damn job.

  “Why are you in here?” She reached for the lotion she’d left on the counter and smoothed it over her face and neck.

  “Needed to brush my teeth. And,” he leaned in and kissed her shoulder, “I was hoping to catch you naked.”

  Her pulse surged and heat gathered between her legs.

  Not enough time. Not enough time.

  Hitching her towel tighter, she stepped out of the tub. She tried to ignore him as she arched backward to wring out her hair. Water hit the porcelain with a splat.

  His intense eyes never strayed from her movement.

  “What?” she asked. She felt full, like she might burst from her skin.

  "I like watching you do your little routine." He stepped closer, slid his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. His erection pressed her belly, reminding her of what they’d done last night.

  What they hadn’t done.

  Maybe they could be late for work. Just this once. She was always early, so she was due.

  “I like that you’re comfortable enough here to do your routine.” He tilted her chin up with one finger. “And I really like having you almost naked in my bathroom.”

  He cut off her laugh with a kiss. It started lazy, lips nibbling, tongues teasing. But within seconds, passion exploded. He combed his fingers through her wet hair as she wrapped her arms around his bare chest.

  Their sighs and moans filled the small room as he rocked into her, bending his knees so he touched her where she needed him most.

  Her towel came loose and he yanked it away. Amanda rubbed her nipples against his chest, needing the friction. Needing this. Needing him.

  He moved them a step backward. Another.

  Toward the bedroom. The bed. Where they couldn’t go.

  Everything inside her protesting, she tore away from his kiss. He reached for her, pulling her back to his chest. When she turned her face, he kissed her neck. Pleasure rippled over her skin and for a moment she forgot why she’d ended the kiss.

  “Greg.” The word came out a sigh, not the forceful tone she’d intended.

  “Baby, you taste so good.” He trailed his tongue along her collarbone, nipped at her shoulder.

  She'd dated a guy in college who called her Baby and she'd hated the endearment. It felt condescending. But when Greg called her Baby, she throbbed. He made Baby seduction in one word.

  Making it even harder to say, “We have to go to work.”

  He stilled, face buried in her neck. “Stupid job.” He cupped her butt and yanked her against him.

  Desire blazed through her. Her mind fuzzed, taking common sense with it. “Maybe we have time...for a...” She could barely breathe, let alone talk. “For a quickie.”

&
nbsp; He groaned and pulled back, untangling their bodies. “Not a chance. When I take you to bed, there will be nothing quick about it.” His smoldering eyes made the same promise as he picked up her towel.

  From his bedroom, her cell phone started ringing. Taking the towel, she slipped past, knocking him with her hip. “Duty calls.”

  She dug through the clothes she’d left folded on his dresser and pulled out her phone. She didn’t recognize the number on caller ID. “Schreiber.”

  “This is Detective Rich Williams in Sensitive Crimes.”

  Rapists and child molesters. Super. “What can I do for you?”

  “I’m at Indianapolis General with Gabrielle Fischer and she refuses to speak to us. She insisted we call you.”

  Chapter 20

  “Gabby?” Dizziness swept over her and she dropped to the edge of the bed. “Is she OK?” If she could ask for Amanda, she was alive. That was a good sign.

  “She’s in bad shape. In and out of consciousness. But she's adamant she won’t talk to anyone but you.” He didn't sound happy about it.

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Oh God. Not Gabby. This couldn’t be happening. Amanda couldn’t breathe. First her family was falling apart; now her best friend was in the hospital. If Sensitive Crimes was involved, she'd been raped.

  It was too much.

  Williams gave her a room number and Amanda ended the call.

  She pulled on her clothes from yesterday. No time to go home and change. She had to get to Gabby. Had to see for herself that her best friend would be all right.

  After yanking on her shoes, Amanda dragged her fingers through her damp hair and started for the door. Only then did she notice Greg watching her from the doorway, his expression cautious.

  “What’s up?”

  She opened her mouth but all that came out was a squeak. Her chest was too tight. The words wouldn’t form.

  Before she could think, his arms came around her and her face pressed his bare chest. He murmured nonsense sounds into her hair.

  “Gabby...” she forced out. She clung to his waist and let herself lean on him. Silent, he ran his hand up and down her back.

  "I need to go. Gabby needs me." She leaned away from him but didn't let go. She wasn't ready yet.