by Katie Reus
He tweaked her clit harder, not surprised as she started climaxing around him. His restraint snapped. Pulling back, he began thrusting inside her, his movements harsher and more unsteady with each pump inside her tight heat. The base of his spine tingled as the need for release grew more intense.
When she reached behind herself and grasped on to his hip with a tight hold, he let go. His thrusts were wild as his climax slammed through him. It felt as if it went on forever, the pleasure careening through him too much and yet not enough.
He buried his face in her neck as he came down from the shot of adrenaline. He wanted to stay like this, inside her, and feel her come around him again. Hearing his name on her lips made him crazy.
He kept his face against her neck, inhaled her sweet, exotic scent. And suddenly the words he’d been holding back burst free. “Why’d you end things, Amelia? What happened between us?” He needed to know and he wasn’t waiting any longer to ask her. It clawed at him relentlessly, made him wonder if he’d done something wrong. Or if she’d . . . met someone else and hadn’t wanted to tell him.
She stiffened under him, but he held her close, his naked body plastered to hers. He wasn’t letting her walk away until she answered. Right now they were both exposed.
“You want to talk about this now?” Her inner walls clenched around his half-hard cock.
No, damn it, he didn’t. But they needed to. He could never fucking move on or move forward with her if they didn’t talk. Slowly he pulled out of her heat and disposed of the condom. Before he’d shut the cabinet door for the trash can, she’d already tugged on her jeans and was yanking her T-shirt over her head, her hands trembling. Her bra and panties were still on the kitchen floor, but she clearly needed a barrier between them.
His gut tightened in warning. It pissed him off that she was pulling away from him. He grabbed his own pants, watching her intently as she sat on one of the swivel chairs. He lifted an eyebrow. He wasn’t going to ask again. Either she told him the truth or she didn’t. He couldn’t move forward with her until he knew what the hell had gone wrong.
“I got pregnant,” she blurted, her cheeks flushing red. Shame flashed in her gaze as she stared at him. It was soon replaced by wariness as she raked an unsteady hand through her hair.
He went rigid, tried to conceal his shock. “By me?” The question simply escaped because of her seeming embarrassment, but he immediately wanted to rein it back in. Deep down he didn’t think she’d ever been unfaithful. She wasn’t built that way. Neither was he.
“Yes, you! I never cheated on you!” Her eyes sparked with pure rage until he held up his palms in defense.
“I know. I’m sorry. Shit, it just popped out.” Even though he was wired, he sat in the chair across from her. A baby? She’d been pregnant with his baby? He wanted to take her hands, but she’d crossed her arms over her chest, her body language clear. “You were pregnant?” He felt as if his whole world had just tilted on its axis. Why hadn’t she told him?
She nodded. “Yes. And let me just get all this out before you start asking questions, okay?” When he nodded, she continued. “I had no idea until I was about four months along. I guess some women just carry small and I’m small anyway. And I’m rambling.” She scrubbed a nervous hand over her face, looking away from him for a second.
When she turned back her expression was shuttered. “When I found out I was pregnant, I was horrified. I . . . I didn’t want a baby and I knew you didn’t either.”
He automatically started to protest, but she shook her head. It wasn’t that he’d wanted a kid that young, but they could have made anything work. They’d been committed to each other and in love. Or so he’d thought.
“Let me finish, please. As soon as I suspected I was pregnant, I went to the free clinic and they confirmed it. Barely a week later, I ended up having a miscarriage. It was bad. There was a lot of blood and . . .” She shuddered and it took all his restraint not to pull her into his arms.
He didn’t know much about miscarriages, but he knew enough. And she would have dealt with it alone, because God knew her mother wouldn’t have been there for her. His stomach twisted at the thought of her dealing with everything by herself. Why hadn’t she told him? He’d have been there for her in a heartbeat.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he rasped out, unable to understand. And why had she broken up with him?
“I thought it was my fault,” she whispered.
“What?”
“I didn’t want a baby, didn’t want to saddle either of us with one. We were so young and you were getting ready to leave. I had a lot of dreams, none of which involved becoming a mom that young. I . . . I just wanted it gone. I wished for it.” She looked away from him, tears spilling down her cheeks.
He wanted to be angry at what she said, but hell, they’d been young with big dreams. He wasn’t sure that he’d have wanted a kid that young either. “You’re not God! You didn’t make it happen!” Why was he shouting? Shit, the last thing she probably needed was his anger, but hell, she’d gone through all that alone and hadn’t come to him? Hadn’t trusted him enough? That was why she’d walked away? A logical voice in his head told him that it wasn’t about him, but damn it.
Her head snapped back around. “I know that now, but I didn’t then. I could barely handle the guilt of everything. I shut down, didn’t want to talk to anyone, especially you. It took years for me to come to terms with realizing I didn’t actually do anything to make it happen. Some days I still struggle with that reality, that it wasn’t really my fault. And I was depressed, something I also didn’t realize at the time. I was seventeen, had no real family support system, and you were leaving for the Corps. The one woman I would have turned to for advice was your abuela, and I couldn’t stand the thought of her being disappointed in me, so that was out.”
“You could have come to me.” How did she not know that? He slid off the chair, needing to put distance between them.
Her expression was tormented. “I know that now. But it took a long time to get to that point. I hated myself, hating looking in the freaking mirror for a long damn time after that. If I couldn’t stand myself, I didn’t think you’d want me either. I thought you’d hate me when you knew the truth.” By the glint in her gaze, he wondered if she still expected that. For him to hate her.
“It was easier to just walk away. By the time I even thought about telling you, it was almost four years later and I had no idea how to get in contact with you. Benita was gone and your parents would have had no clue who I was. They weren’t even living here anyway. Hell, even if I could have found you, I had no idea if you’d want to hear from me anyway. For all I knew you were married with a family—something I didn’t want to know anyway. I . . . I’m not trying to make excuses, just tell you how I reacted to everything back then. I was seventeen and blamed myself. Being around you after that was too hard and I had no freaking coping skills. I’m sorry I hurt you by walking away. So damn sorry. If I could go back and change things, I would. I’d change everything.” Her voice cracked on the last word.
Nathan struggled to find his voice. All these years. All these years she’d kept this from him. “I thought it was something I did! It was all I could think about for years.” He wanted to pull back his anger, but it came spilling out. Knowing the truth, he couldn’t actually blame her. She’d been seventeen and, from the sound of it, very depressed. That didn’t mean he wasn’t allowed to feel anything. “Damn it, Amelia!” They could have worked it out if she’d told him. He would have done anything to be with her. A dull ache spread against the base of his skull.
She didn’t say anything, just sat there watching him with sad, teary eyes. He didn’t know what to say, how to feel or act. There were too many emotions. Anger, resentment, betrayal, and . . . grief. Grief at knowing they’d lost twelve years together over something he gladly would have stood by her side through.
All he knew was that he needed distance before he said something he wo
uld regret. The pain and guilt in her eyes were too much. He wanted to shout at her even as that voice in his head told him to pull his head out of his ass, that with her background her reaction to what she’d gone through was completely in the realm of normal and understandable.
But knowing all that didn’t change the emotions clawing at him. He’d been screwed up over her for years, wondering what he’d done wrong. The truth was, she hadn’t trusted him. Not really. That was what cut the deepest. She’d thought he would abandon her when she needed him most. He felt sick.
“I need to get out of here,” he finally rasped out.
Because being in her presence simply wasn’t an option anymore. If he’d expected her to argue, he would have been disappointed. Part of him was when she slid off her chair and just nodded. Accepting that he was leaving.
Feeling as if he were on autopilot, he headed for the front door with Amelia walking silently next to him. She turned off the alarm before wrapping her arms protectively around herself once again.
That need to protect and comfort her flared to life, but he ruthlessly shoved it back down. “Set the alarm after I leave.” The words came out like an order, but that was pretty much all he could manage right now.
Without waiting for a response, he left. For just a moment, he waited on the front step and listened. When he heard the door lock and then the faint sound of the alarm beeps, he left, running down her street to burn off the anger inside him.
The muscles in his legs strained as he pushed himself to the limit, but as fast as he ran, he’d never be able to outrun the past.
Chapter 13
OSINT—open-source intelligence: information derived from publicly available sources.
Hands on her hips, Amelia frowned at the week’s schedule she’d posted on her office door. Tessa had been slated to come in this morning and it was half an hour past when she should have been here. It wasn’t uncommon for her front-of-the-house staff to arrive right on time or a few minutes late—that was just the nature of the restaurant business—but Amelia didn’t like this whole situation.
Tessa hadn’t been on the work calendar yesterday because of school and Amelia felt bad, but she hadn’t thought much about Tessa not coming in for her last shift. She’d had a lot going on at work, then with . . . Nathan. Not going to think about him right now, she ordered herself. Tessa missing her Sunday night shift and now being late for her normal Tuesday morning shift didn’t sit right with Amelia.
“You worried about Tess?” Manuel asked, drying his hands on his white apron as he joined her by her door.
If this had happened a few weeks ago and she hadn’t been aware of so many young women going missing—some who’d worked here—she might have chalked it up to teenage irresponsibility. Now . . . “Yeah. I’m gonna make a few calls, see if I can get the cops to check out her house. Sylvia told me she was dating Jonas?”
Manuel nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t think dating is what the young people are calling it. I heard him tell one of the servers they were ‘talking’ and ‘hanging out.’ The boy was off yesterday, so I don’t know if he’s seen her.”
“Okay, thanks. I’m going to shut the door while I make the calls.” Amelia pulled out her cell and stepped into her office. She’d come in at the crack of dawn because she hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead she’d replayed the conversation with Nathan in her mind over and over, obsessing over it and making herself sick. She wanted him to call and wasn’t sure if she should make the first move. He’d left last night, clearly wanting space from her. She wanted to give it to him, but still, she needed to hear his voice.
No one else had been here, so she’d done all the scheduling for the next two weeks and caught up on a day’s worth of paperwork. She worked fairly normal hours, so what she’d finished this morning would have taken all day because of the numerous interruptions she would have had. Normally she craved the chaotic atmosphere of her restaurants. There was always a mini-crisis to be dealt with. Right now she just wanted to go home, curl up on the couch with ice cream, and forget about the outside world for a while.
Of course she wouldn’t be able to block out anything, not when her thoughts were consumed with Nathan and the pain and hurt that had radiated off him as he’d left last night. She laid herself bare and now he either forgave her or didn’t. It had taken her a long damn time to forgive herself—and on bad days she still struggled with guilt—so maybe she shouldn’t expect him to let go so easily. But that stupidly hopeful part of her had thought there was a chance he would. Hoped he would.
Sitting at her desk, she shook those thoughts off and scrolled through her phone to Joel Sinclair.
The detective answered on the third ring, his voice strained. “Hey, you know a girl named Tessa Hall?”
“Uh . . .” She paused, completely taken off guard. Alarm punched through her that a detective was asking about Tessa. “I was actually just calling you about her. What’s going on?”
“I’m at her house now. Got a call from a neighbor who was worried about her, so she used the key Tessa had given her. When she didn’t find anyone home, she called us.”
She could hear the sound of papers rustling in the background.
“I found a pay stub from Plátanos Maduros and a uniform shirt from there. Tell me what . . .” He trailed off before he let out an annoyed curse. “Let me call you back.” He disconnected before she could respond.
Screw that. Amelia scribbled down Tessa’s address on a sticky note and stood. She’d plug it into her GPS and head over there herself. She knew Sinclair would need to officially talk to her anyway, so she’d save him a trip.
The location of Tessa’s place was only about five miles away, but with traffic the drive took close to twenty minutes. By the time Amelia was pulling down Tessa’s street, Sinclair had called her back. “Hey, I’m almost to Tessa’s,” she said by way of greeting.
“Amelia—”
“I’m literally pulling down her street.”
He sighed. “Park at the curb across from her house. I’ll meet you there.”
As she steered down the street, she spotted Sinclair’s Explorer in the driveway. A marked police car was behind it. On the curb in front of Tessa’s house was a faded blue, older-model pickup truck. Some of the neighbors had come out of their houses and were standing on lawns. She noticed that almost everyone was in their fifties or older. She knew Tessa’s parents had died and she still lived in her childhood home while going to school.
Leaving her purse in her Jeep, Amelia shoved her keys and phone in her pants pocket and started across the street. As she rounded the old truck, she spotted a uniformed police officer talking to Jonas. Though she was surprised to see Jonas here, she didn’t have time to talk to him before Sinclair stepped out of the front door, his expression grim.
He strode across the front lawn, his long legs eating up the distance in seconds. “I’ve got another officer on the way here who’ll take your statement, and a forensics team to sweep the place.”
“You think she’s been kidnapped?” Amelia’s stomach twisted. Could it be by the same person or persons who’d taken so many other women?
He glanced around and kept his voice low when he spoke. “I don’t know much of anything at this point, and what I am about to tell you is all just between us. There are subtle signs of a break-in. Her back door looks as if it’s been picked, her bedroom is slightly disturbed, and we found heavy boot-print indents in her backyard. Could be nothing but a repair guy, but we’re going to look into everything. A lot of women have gone missing, and if she’s one of them we might have a jump on this case if we find physical evidence.”
She nodded. They’d only discovered that the other women were missing after a lot of time had passed. There’d been no way to really search for any physical evidence or anything that might help the police discover who had taken them. Amelia was afraid for Tessa. “Why’d her neighbor call?”
“Guess she hadn’t taken her garbage cans out
to the curb yesterday even though her car’s parked in the carport. And she wasn’t answering her phone. She says that’s not like Tessa, that she’s very predictable, a friendly, sweet girl.”
Yeah, that definitely sounded like Tessa. Real fear clawed at Amelia. “She didn’t show up for work Sunday evening or this morning.” Guilt threaded through her. She should have called Sinclair yesterday. One phone call could have had him looking into this sooner.
Sinclair pulled out a pad and started writing. “That’s good info. It’ll help establish a timeline of her movements. You know him well?” Sinclair jerked a chin in the direction of Jonas but kept scribbling.
She automatically glanced at her employee. Tall, a little lanky, he was a nice kid. “He works for me. He’s a good kid as far as I know. Attends the University of Miami, works part-time, has never been late. You probably already know this, but I just heard from some staff that he and Tessa are semi-dating.”
Sinclair nodded. “Yeah, already got that. Kid showed up looking for her because she hadn’t returned his texts and freaked when he saw police cars here. Demanded to know what was going on, tried to rush into the house. She had any problems with anyone at work that you know of?”
“No . . . yes.” Oh God. Why hadn’t Amelia thought about that? “About a month ago I fired one of my chefs for harassing some of the girls. Tessa was one of them.”
“Name?”
“Neal Gray. I gave you his info the other night.”
Sinclair nodded, his expression grim. “I had him and the other one, Turner, pulled in for questioning about possibly hitting your Jeep.”
She blinked, surprised by that. “And?”
“And nothing so far. Neither of their vehicles showed signs of damage either. Do you have his info on your phone by chance?”
“I can pull it up.”
“I’ve got it on file, but give it to me now. I want to get someone over to his place asap.”
