The Past Between Us

by Kimberly Van Meter

  And he meant it. She suppressed a shiver but she put on a show of bravery. “Don’t be so melodramatic, Tommy. Where am I going to go? In case you haven’t noticed, it’s snowing outside and I used public transit to get here.”

  “That brings us to a puzzling question…why here? Newark? Did you just pick a place on the map for kicks?”

  “Of course not. But to answer that I’d have to assume that you truly care about the truth and what I’m after.”

  “And if I do?”

  “Then you’d have to believe that I’m innocent.”

  “Are you?”

  “Yes.” Mostly. But no sense in confusing the issue. She was innocent of the most serious crimes and that’s what mattered at the moment. “Are you ready to hear my side?”

  “I’m sitting here, aren’t I?”

  She made a face. “So grouchy.”

  “Pardon me. I tend to get a little less happy when I’m forced to chase a suspect all over creation. You have no idea the ass-reaming I’m going to get over this…not to mention the paperwork.”

  “Sorry to complicate your life,” she said, not quite able to keep the sarcasm from her voice. “Try being on the run for the past two years. Imagine the inconvenience of not knowing where you’re going to lay your head at night.”

  Silence sat between them and she wished she’d kept that last comment to herself. It made her sound pathetic and vulnerable.

  “Cassi…you could’ve called me before it got to this stage,” he said quietly, though the admission seemed to take effort, as if it were pulled out of him.

  She looked away, unable to bear the look in his eyes. “No, I couldn’t,” she answered, leaving it at that. She’d tried to find him but they’d lost contact with one another and she’d been too ashamed to call Mama Jo. She’d assumed Tommy had told his foster mother some of the things she’d said when they’d parted ways. Her cheeks burned just to remember the foul things that had come out of her mouth when she’d been too hopped up on coke to care who she hurt. “I didn’t know who I could trust. You, included. I couldn’t take the chance. Looks like I wasn’t wrong. Here you are…ready to bundle me up and deliver me like a Christmas turkey.”

  “So you’re the victim here?” he countered, the edge returning to his voice.

  “I didn’t say that…exactly. But I’m not the criminal you think I am.”

  He shook his head, the small movement saying I’m tired and don’t want to get involved but I will anyway and she caught a glimmer of opportunity. Buried deep under layers of time was the affection he’d once felt for her. She sensed it, even if he was trying to smother it under the weight of duty. If she could coax that piece of him to the surface…she might find a way out of this.

  “Prove it,” he challenged, his gaze searching hers, as if looking for something to hold on to even if he didn’t want to find it.

  She couldn’t trust him, but God, yes, there was a part of her that wanted to lay everything at his feet, to unburden herself of the load she’d been carrying…but she couldn’t. Tommy was an FBI agent, not her friend. However, she could pretend to trust him to get him to loosen up. She offered him a tentative smile. “Just do me one small favor…” He awaited her request, his gaze narrowing as if he were bracing himself. She looked away, allowing her embarrassment to show through as she said, “And there’s no need to point out that you’ve got the upper hand and I’m in no shape to be calling in favors.” He grunted something in agreement and she drew a short breath for strength, for her newest plan was the worst she’d ever put together. She was fairly certain if she managed to pull it off, she was going to hell because it would destroy the one thing she’d always held sacred in her heart. Her eyes met his and held. “Promise me we’ll stay here for the night and you’ll hear me out.”

  Tommy stared, as if trying to guess her game. “I’m sure the roads are clear. You talk, I’ll drive.”

  “I know I don’t deserve it but I need you to hear me out. If, after you’ve heard everything and you still believe taking me to the authorities is the best course of action, I will go without a fight. I promise. Please, Tommy.” She implored him as much with her eyes as with her tone as she cautiously approached him. When all he did was stiffen but didn’t reach for his gun, she gathered more courage and knelt between his legs, her hands sliding up his thigh, testing. His muscles tensed under her palms as she looked up at him, uttering the words she never thought she’d say to her best friend under these circumstances. She hoped it worked. “Stay with me tonight.”

  THOMAS JERKED AT THE implication in her eyes and the heat radiating from her hands. Anyone else and they’d never have even gotten this far. But oddly, he’d been dry-mouth curious about where she was going with this. He’d thought he could take whatever she was trying to serve him but now, with her so close he could smell her skin, her lips parting in invitation, he was fighting a part of himself that should’ve been quiet and docile.

  Instead, it had roared to life. He swallowed but held his ground. Perhaps he’d see how far she was willing to take things. He glanced down at her hand, inching closer to the heated apex of his thighs. “Careful,” he murmured, his voice close to a growl. “You could get yourself into a lot of trouble.”

  “I’m already in trouble,” she said, inching her hand farther. “What’s a little more?”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  TOMMY REACHED AROUND HER, one arm sliding behind her waist to pull her close. She inhaled sharply and her eyes flared wide but she didn’t retreat. Her tongue snaked out to tease her bottom lip and he was too caught up in the moment to remember that he was trying to call her bluff. And that moment was scorching. All the years he’d told himself his childhood crush was over, that Cassi was nothing more than a placeholder in his memory for the real deal that would come later, he knew he’d been fooling himself. Cassi was here, warm and alive, pressed against him and he was struggling to recall who was supposed to be in control.

  The seventeen-year-old Thomas Bristol who should’ve been long gone, awoke from a deep sleep and took over.

  “This is too easy,” he murmured, his skin tingling where her hands rested against his chest. “You can’t think that I don’t see what you’re doing, and it’s beneath you, Cassi.”

  She jerked, her gaze narrowing but he held her tight. “Let me go then,” she demanded, losing the softness he saw only moments prior. Her muscles rigid, she pushed against him but he had the advantage. It wasn’t right for him to continue to hold her like this but he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t get an illicit enjoyment from it. “You’ve made your point. Now get your hands off me before I start screaming my head off.”

  “Go ahead,” he taunted her. “You’re in my custody and I’ve already shown the clerk my badge. As far as he’s concerned, you’re not his problem.”

  Her mouth pinched but her cheeks flared with high heat. She was fighting mad and it only made her sexier. Damn, and he wasn’t immune to the effect she had on him. His jeans started to tighten and he realized he may have lost his edge in this fight but he couldn’t let her know that.

  She must’ve sensed something for her expression turned cunning and she angled her head to regard him with that turbulent gaze of hers. Instead of struggling against him, she turned the tables and slid her hands around his neck.

  “Oh, Tommy,” she murmured, her sweet voice sliding like something naughty across his nerve endings. “You’re not so tough, you know. I know all your secrets. Your weak spots. I know you want me…always have. And here I am. All yours. Don’t you want a taste?”

  He swallowed what felt like his Adam’s apple and he tried to set her away from him, but she clung to him like a spider monkey, pressing herself against him in all the right spots. “Okay, knock it off,” he demanded, but his voice betrayed a subtle tremble. His hands ached to explore the curves of her plump ass as his tongue plunged into her mouth and other places. He was holding on to his resolve by the thinnest of threads. “Damn it, Cassi, you�
��re messing with fire. You don’t want to do this.”

  She laughed, low and throaty, and rubbed herself against him, her breath hitching in her throat before whispering against the shell of his ear, “You’re always trying to tell me what to do. I see some things haven’t changed.”

  Like hell they hadn’t. At that, he managed to set her away from him, his breathing labored, his heart banging hard against his chest as if he’d run a marathon. He narrowed his stare at her as she watched him with a knowing smirk. “Is this all a game to you?” he asked, pissed at himself and at her for trying something so stupid. “I’m an FBI agent here to arrest you. Don’t you realize what kind of trouble you’re in? I could drag your ass in right now and be done with it but you’ve got me asking questions I shouldn’t give a shit about and here you’re still playing me like I’m some ordinary jerk who doesn’t know you from Eve. You’re right—you know some of my secrets but, honey, you’ve forgotten…I know all of yours.”

  The smirk dissolved from her expression and he saw something flit across her features, chased by a brief moment of vulnerability and aching loneliness, and he almost felt bad for her. But, damn it, she brought this on herself.

  Her eyes glittered but she held back the tears and for that, he was grateful. Cassi crying was more than he could handle at the moment. “Fine,” she conceded, moving to the chair, her expression turning mutinous. “You’ve made your point. Abundantly. So now what?”

  It would’ve been a simple thing to close the short distance between his lips and hers but he couldn’t do it. As shamefully as he wanted to taste her on his tongue, he wouldn’t. Not like this. He was in a position of authority and he’d never abuse that power.

  He sighed, feeling quite distinctly that he’d just cut her pride cleanly in half, but knew he’d made the right choice—even if his libido was screaming something different. He resigned himself to a difficult evening. “Now, you tell me your side of things. And please, just stick to the facts. No embellishing or deleting in your favor. I need to know it all, even if it’s not pretty. Can you do that?”

  THE BACK OF CASSI’S THROAT ached as tears threatened to demolish the rest of her battered ego but a part of her was sagging with relief. If Tommy had…if he’d allowed her to seduce him, her respect for him would’ve died a messy death, and above all else, what made Tommy special was his backbone. He never caved under peer pressure, never felt compelled to do as the others were doing if it didn’t jibe with his internal gauge and she’d respected the hell out of that. So, yay! for intestinal fortitude but ouch for her self-esteem. She tucked her knees into the cradle of her arms and wondered how much to share, how much to edit. She drew a deep breath. “Where should I start?” she asked.

  “Start from the point when you went on the run. I pretty much know the story before that.”

  He was referencing her party days. He knew because that’s when she’d kicked him out of her life. She was tempted to offer an apology for her appalling behavior back then, but she didn’t see the purpose except easing her own guilt so she kept it to herself.

  “Ah, well, let’s see…my dad died about five years after we graduated high school,” she started, surprised by the sudden sting of tears even after all this time.

  “I’m sorry about your dad,” he offered gruffly, and she accepted the sentiment with a nod. “Mama Jo told me but…”

  “I know…we weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Don’t worry about it. I won’t hold that against you.” She had plenty to hold against him aside from that painful moment in her past, starting with his decision to treat her like a criminal. Refocusing, she continued, “My mom met Lionel Vissher about three years after that. He seemed nice enough…I mean, my mom and I weren’t really getting along all because of the crowd I was running with. I got into some trouble. Nothing major,” she clarified a bit defensively. “Mostly misdemeanors.”

  “Mostly?”

  She looked away. “Yeah. Mostly.”

  “I’d call a felony DUI pretty major,” he said, and she turned to stare at him. Of course he’d read her file and that particular episode was on her permanent record.

  “Yes, it is. And I never did it again. Please don’t lecture me.”

  He held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “No lecture. Just statement of fact. But I do find it interesting that you tend to gloss over the parts where you’re in the wrong.”

  She stiffened. “I’m not glossing over anything. I know I screwed up. I paid my dues. And I learned my lesson,” she said. “May I continue?”

  “Please do. I’m still waiting for the part where you prove that you’re the innocent one. So far…I’m not convinced.”

  She didn’t snap at the bait but she did communicate her feelings with a healthy glare sent his way. So self-righteous. Like Tommy Bristol never made a mistake? She choked back the hot words bubbling to the surface. Lord, her temper would be the death of her. She drew a deep breath before continuing. “Like I said, at first Lionel seemed an all right guy. I mean, he wasn’t my dad, that’s for sure, but there wasn’t anyone who would’ve measured up. I tried not to let that influence me, though, but maybe it did. But whatever…my mom was really taken with him and he made her happy. It wasn’t until later when I realized he was siphoning money from various accounts that I started to get suspicious.”

  “How’d you find out he was doing that?”

  “Complete accident. I went into my mom’s office to find something on her computer and he’d left a browser open on the computer. It was a bank account in his name only at a bank I’d never heard of. My family has banked at the same bank for decades and I know my mom would never switch. She liked the preferential treatment they always gave her when she went into the local branch. I felt like I’d peeked into something that was none of my business and I felt bad so I almost closed the window but curiosity got the better of me—” she shrugged, not really sorry at all “—and I realized he’d been stockpiling money.”

  “Did you confront him about it?”

  “Not at first. I was hoping I was wrong. I mean, I didn’t want to make a wild accusation without some kind of proof and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the truth, either. My mom was really happy for once and I thought, maybe it’s not a big deal in the overall scheme of things. But, in the end, I couldn’t keep it going. Especially when he was spending my family’s fortune on extravagant purchases, like yachts and parties—none of which my mom authorized.”

  “How do you know?”

  “First, my mom hated the water. Boats scared her. That’s why my dad never bought a yacht. He respected her fear and didn’t want to make it worse. Second, my mom always seemed to find out about the parties after they were over. As in, he always seemed to forget to invite his own wife.”

  “I’ll give you that he seems like an inconsiderate jerk but…”

  “I’m not finished. That was just the beginning. I started asking around. I heard a rumor that he was messing around behind my mom’s back. A maid heard Lionel in the bedroom with another woman while my mom was out shopping. I told my mom what I’d been told. At first she didn’t want to believe me but I know I planted a seed of doubt because they started fighting. This went on for a while. I could tell my mom was under a huge strain but she tried to hide it. She even went so far as to give him lavish gifts but it felt desperate to me. Of course, she denied it. But…then she started getting sick.”

  “Sick?”

  “Yeah.” Her voice hitched with remembered pain. “At first, it was stomachaches. Real bad ones. But she’d get better and it was forgotten. Then they’d start again. She went to doctor after doctor and had gobs of tests done but everything always came up clean. The doctor said it was stress and suggested she start taking yoga or gardening.”

  “I remember your mom being a little high-strung….”

  “She was, which didn’t help matters. And neither did Lionel. I started asking questions and that’s when he’d whisk her away for some kind of rejuvenati
ng vacation, and funny enough, she always got better. Except when she came home, then it would start all over.”

  “No one thought that was odd?” he asked.

  “Oh, yes. Lionel himself brought in all these specialists to test for toxic mold, and of course, the house came up clean but he put on a good show of really worrying about my mom’s health.”

  “So what made you think he was the cause of her decline?”

  She drew a deep breath, hating that she had so little to prove her theory, yet she knew in her heart that he had killed her mother. She shrugged. “Nothing really. Just a feeling.”

  “What did the autopsy say?”

  “Because the police didn’t suspect foul play, an autopsy wasn’t done, and Lionel didn’t ask for one.”

  “You could’ve pressed for it as a family member, particularly since you had concerns.”

  “By that point, Lionel had convinced the police that I was simply a disgruntled, spoiled brat who was just trying to create a distraction from my own problems.”

  “Was it true?” he asked carefully, and her head shot up. He lifted his hands. “I have to ask. The last time we spoke you were running with a party crowd that was into some serious shit.”

  The temptation to lie was great. She hated admitting what a mess she’d been. Tommy awaited an answer, but she couldn’t mislead him, even to soften the rough edges of the truth. “I was messed up,” she admitted. “But by the time my mom died I’d cleaned up. I’d stopped hanging around the party scene and I was trying to protect my mom. But she was fighting me as much as Lionel was trying to cover everything up. She couldn’t believe that she was in danger. She thought the same thing Lionel was telling everyone else…that I was a spoiled brat trying to ruin my mom’s life by making wild accusations. My record didn’t help. I didn’t have anyone to turn to for help.” She was horrified to find her eyes welling and she turned away so Tommy didn’t catch it.