Truth or Consequences

by Diana Duncan

  He leaned over and spoke so quietly she could barely hear. “Don’t make me get out the handcuffs, Zoe.”

  Her jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t.”

  “Feel free to try me.” He squatted to her level, but she stared fixedly at the seat back. “I’ll only ask once more. Come with me.”

  Leaving him the first time had been excruciating. Having to walk away a second time would be her undoing. “I can’t. I just can’t. I’ll call you when I get to San Francisco, and you can tear a strip off my hide over the phone. I promise, I’ll listen. You deserve the chance to speak your mind.”

  “Stubborn little gypsy. I knew you were trouble the first time I laid eyes on you.” He sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He moved too fast for her to react. Cold steel clamped around her right wrist. Before she could blink, he’d cuffed her wrist to his. He rose. “Let’s go.”

  Dismay rocketed through her. Was she under arrest? She’d seen him like this at the hospital. Furious, but controlled. Because she didn’t have any choice, she stood and moved into the aisle with him.

  He slung her bag over his shoulder, grunting at the weight. “Very important protected witness,” he told the bus at large as he led her out.

  Why did he bother to defend her pride? He shouldn’t care if her fellow passengers thought her a criminal. After all, she was the spawn of one.

  Aidan had the bus driver unload her suitcase, and then towed her toward the helicopter. Halfway there, the dusky clouds began to spit raindrops. Evander popped his head out of the bag and me-owed. Aidan stopped dead in his tracks. “What the—” He looked down at the cat and chuckled. “I doubt you’d like a chopper ride, buddy. I don’t have ear protection to fit you.”

  He reversed direction and sauntered behind the bus to the patrol car. Liam lowered the window and grinned at his brother. “I see you have our witness in protective custody.”

  Confusion muddied her thoughts. Apparently, the police did need her as a witness.

  “I’ve got more than that.” Aidan passed over her bag. “Meet Evander. Evander, Liam. I’ll pick him up tomorrow.”

  “Murphy will be happy to have the company. The nutball loves cats.” Liam scratched Evander behind the ears and arched a brow at Zoe. “Don’t worry, as companions, not canapés.”

  Aidan towed her back into the mini-tornado created by the chopper blades. Grady waved from the pilot’s seat. Aidan boosted her into the back and settled in beside her. He buckled her in and then gently fastened a pair of miked headphones over her ears. “Let’s rock and roll.”

  Grady’s amused, mellow voice floated into her ears. “Geez, bro. Dragging your women in cuffed, nowadays? A tad Neanderthal, even for you.”

  “Stick it on ice, baby brother,” Aidan growled. “And drive.”

  “Yes, sir, Officer O’Rourke, sir.” The helicopter zoomed skyward, making her stomach dip. “Welcome aboard Air O’Rourke,” Grady intoned. “Hopefully, we’ll be flying at an altitude high enough not to freak you into wetting your Depends, unless the A-man here demands that we buzz a bus and land on a freeway.”

  Aidan snorted. “You loved every minute of it.”

  “Yee haw, I live to mow grass with my chopper blades.” Grady chuckled. “Next stop, Riverside PD.”

  The destination confirmed her theory. Though Officer Cain had said she could leave after giving her statement, they must need more information. No wonder Aidan was angry. His superiors had sent him after her—the last person he wanted to see. She’d be angry in his place, too. She would try to make it as easy on him as possible. On her part, she’d tough it out and get through it.

  A sorrow-laden sigh escaped. Easier said than done. Walking away from Aidan again would devastate her. She shifted as far away from him as possible and concentrated on blocking out the aching sensory overload caused by his nearness. The warm strength radiating from him tempted her to rest her weary head on his chest. Dejected, she tipped her head back and closed her eyes. Though physically linked by the handcuffs, they were oceans apart emotionally. He’d only push her away. Not that she’d blame him. He had every right to reject her.

  Twenty minutes later, Grady landed on the helipad atop the police station. She and Aidan exited, and Grady snapped her a jaunty goodbye salute from the pilot’s seat. Instead of leading her inside, Aidan took the elevator to the parking garage.

  He stopped beside a black Jeep and unlocked the cuffs. Puzzled, she hung back as he opened the car door. “Whose car is this and where are we going?”

  “The Jeep is Grady’s. He’ll catch a ride with Liam, later.” He gestured at her to get in. “We’re going to my place.”

  Anxiety scraped over her raw nerve endings. “Why?”

  “We need privacy to discuss everything that’s happened.”

  Crushing apprehension overpowered her, and she reeled. Official statements she could deal with. Alone in Aidan’s apartment, faced with his pain and rage, she might melt into a useless, sobbing puddle. Beg him not to hate her. Put him on the spot. And wouldn’t that be a comfort to him?

  Aidan helped her inside. As they left the parking garage, the raindrops picked up speed and momentum, turning into a downpour. Aidan focused on the unusually heavy traffic, and she spent the taut, silent fifteen minutes shoring up her courage. He needed closure, and she would give it to him. Even if it killed her.

  Aidan toed the door to his apartment shut, and then led her into the living room.

  Standing close to him, she breathed in his scent. He smelled so good. So masculine. So clean. She covertly studied his strong profile. “You shaved.” A safe, innocuous topic.

  “Yeah, I couldn’t stand myself.” She knew how that felt. “I grabbed a fast shower at the command post before I changed into an extra uniform. Didn’t want anyone to mistake me for a perp.” He reached out to touch her face, and she flinched. If he touched her, she would fall apart. He froze, and his brows snapped together in a frown. “Are you afraid of me?”

  Their talk was going to shred her soul, and she wasn’t sure she could handle any more pain today. However, if a discussion would help him, then she would find the strength. Somewhere. “No, of course not. I’m fine.” She stiffened, braced for the blow. “Go ahead. Let me have it.”

  Chapter 17

  Twelve noon

  “Zoe.” Aidan’s voice went low and very gentle. “We’re just going to talk. Nothing bad will happen, and we’ll both feel better afterward.”

  Her stomach rolled. A conversation dredging up her relationship to DiMarco couldn’t be good. Aidan might feel better, but she had no hope for herself. Nothing could change the fact that his father’s legacy was courage and honor, while her father’s legacy was cruelty and death.

  He gestured at the rich brown leather sofa. “Make yourself comfortable. Are you hungry?”

  “No, thank you.”

  “Well, I’m starving.” He hesitated, and the weight of his gaze bore down on her. “Don’t go anywhere. I’ll be right back.”

  There was no running away this time. She was obligated to stay and face the music. No matter how discordant. Aidan hadn’t turned on the lights when they’d entered the room, and the wan atmosphere was as murky as her spirits. She trudged to the rain-streaked window and stared out at the cityscape, washed in gloom. The river reflected steely clouds overhead, its gray water cold and unwelcoming. A solitary barge struggled through choppy waves, making slow headway against the storm.

  The barge had battled its lonely way around the river bend by the time Aidan strode into the room carrying two platters. One brimmed with bite-size summer fruits, the other held assorted cheeses, crackers and miniature rounds of bread.

  He’d also changed clothes. Snug, faded jeans showcased his muscular thighs and long legs to perfection, and a dark-plum cotton shirt hugged his broad shoulders. His shirtsleeves were rolled up on sinewy forearms; his long feet were bare. She hungered for him far more than the food.

  She wrapped her arms around herself
, but the defensive gesture couldn’t ease the pain. He made her yearn for something she could never have. She now understood why he had closed himself off for so many years. Why he’d been afraid to hope. To want. To care.

  Caring hurt way too much.

  “I took a few seconds to change out of uniform.” He set the platters on the glass-topped coffee table and smiled. “Don’t want you to feel like you’re being interrogated.”

  She didn’t know if the smile reached his eyes. She still could not meet his gaze.

  He left again, and returned balancing dark green plates topped with matching napkins, a steaming, fragrant casserole dish of gingered chicken wings and a bowl of deviled crab.

  “I hope you didn’t go to all that trouble for me. I really can’t eat a thing.”

  “Wedding reception leftovers. Found ’em in my fridge with a note from Mom. She figured we’d be tired and hungry after our ordeal, and not up to cooking. There’s wedding cake for dessert.”

  He made one more trip for a bottle of white wine and two stemmed goblets. He arranged dishes, poured wine and then held out his hand. “Come and sit down.”

  Rather than endure the torment of close contact with him on the sofa, she toed off her sandals, confiscated a suede floor pillow and sat in front of the low coffee table. Shivers crept over her as she stared at the icy, unforgiving glass tabletop and waited for him to speak his mind.

  “Here.” He gently draped a sand-colored chenille throw over her shoulders. “It’s turned unseasonably chilly.” He moved to the fireplace and touched a button. A steady red-gold flame instantly sprang to life. “The beauty of a gas fireplace. No wood to chop.” He opened glass bi-fold doors and crackling warmth radiated toward her.

  She clutched the downy throw like a lifeline. “Thank you.”

  “No problem.” He tossed down a second floor pillow and sat beside her.

  So much for evading his overwhelming presence.

  He didn’t waste any time. “Why did you run, Zoe?”

  She stared at the fire as heavy silence thrummed between them. The eternal flames of hell could not hurt any worse than this discussion. She ached for him to hold her. To take away the pain. But the only person in the world who could comfort her was the one person she had no right to seek comfort from.

  Finally, she steeled her nerves and dove in. Better to rip off the bandage in one screaming moment than drag out the agony millimeter by millimeter. “Because I couldn’t do anything else.” A furious gust of wind slammed rain against the window. “Why did you follow me?”

  He took a drink. “Because I couldn’t do anything else.”

  She nodded. She’d suspected as much. “Your superiors didn’t give you a choice. I don’t blame you for being angry.”

  He choked on his wine. “You thought I was mad because headquarters forced me to track you down?” He sounded incredulous. “Look at me, Zoe.”

  “I can’t.”

  Thunder rumbled in the distance, heralding the storm outside. “Why not?” Thunder rumbled in his voice. It was going to storm inside, as well.

  The truth stung, cold and bitter in her mouth. “Because I can’t bear to see the disgust and horror in your eyes again. Because you’ve been betrayed and I can never make that up to you. Because of who I am—” Her chest tightened until she could barely breathe, and her voice broke. “I—I’m the daughter of the man who murdered your father. The child of the filth who caused you and your family so much pain.”

  “Zoe, I need you to look at me.” His plea sounded strangled. “Please.”

  She closed her eyes. This was the one thing she’d dreaded the most. The one thing she didn’t have the courage to face. The one thing that could finally break her beyond her ability to recover. She battled back tears. But he’d asked it of her, and she owed him at least that.

  And so much more she could never, ever make right.

  Her hands fisted, nails cutting into her palms. Mortal fear of what she would see made her eyelids slow to open. She stared at Aidan’s square chin, firmed in stubborn determination. His full, sculpted lips, compacted so tightly they were white. His regal nose, nostrils flared with emotion. Fearing, dreading the moment of impact, she forced her gaze upward.

  Lightning flashes of emotion raged in his eyes.

  Pain. Stark anguish shadowed his irises, and arrowed into her chest.

  Anger. Dark, hot fury smoldered, and made her stomach clench.

  Sorrow. Tears glistened in the deep brown pools, clung to his long, thick eyelashes.

  Her breath jammed, thick, painful cement in her lungs.

  Tears?

  Her tough cop didn’t cry. He had declared tears were useless. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She would rather have died at DiMarco’s hands than cause Aidan pain. Would rather die, right here, right now, than see him cry. “I’m sorry,” she choked out. “So sorry. Reliving your father’s death at DiMarco’s hands had to hurt so badly.”

  “No, baby.” He cupped her face. His hands were shaking. “I’m sorry. The disgust and horror I felt wasn’t about who you are. I lost it because I was trapped in my worst nightmare. I let you down. I let you die.”

  Confusion jumbled her thoughts. “Wh-what? What do you mean?”

  “I had to stand there and let that monster rip out your heart, and I couldn’t do anything. I had to listen to him slice your soul into bloody scraps, and I couldn’t stop him. He hurt you beyond bearing, and I couldn’t protect you.” His voice wavered, and he swallowed hard. The storm crashed overhead, and the tears pooling in his eyes leaked over. “I watched you die, inch by inch. Your optimism. Your spirit. Worst of all, your hope.”

  Stunned, bewildered, her bruised, aching soul in turmoil, she gasped. He was upset because she’d been hurt? He was crying over her pain? Her throat closed up, and her eyes filled with hot tears. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Oh, God, please, don’t.” She gently touched the warm, wet streaks on his face as moisture streamed down her own. “None of it was your fault. My investigation got us kidnapped. My father tried to kill you. I’m contaminated. Dirty.” She hung her head. “The blame is mine. The shame is mine.”

  He hissed through gritted teeth, and thunder boomed in the sky. “DiMarco might have contributed to your existence—the only good thing he ever did in his sorry life—but he was never your father. And never will be.” His entire body was trembling. “As surely as if DiMarco held a gun to your head and pulled the trigger, he murdered you. I had to watch a shell of the woman I’ve grown to respect and admire and care about crumple to the dirt. I couldn’t pick you up and hold you.” His fingers slid into her hair, and tipped up her face. His tormented gaze held her captive. “You wouldn’t look at me. I couldn’t comfort you. I nearly exploded from helplessness and rage. If I’d had a chance then, I’d have strangled DiMarco without a qualm.” His hands moved down, gripped her shoulders, and he shook her gently. “You are not to blame for his actions. The guilt belongs to him. The shame belongs to him.”

  They were both trembling now. Her dazed mind could not process his meaning. She’d expected revulsion and scorn. Instead, he was showering her with care and compassion? “I th-thought you were f-furious with me when you got on the bus. You should despise me.”

  “No.” His jaw tightened. “I was furious with myself for not being able to help you. I despised DiMarco for making you feel you had to run from me. But I was never angry at you, Zoe.”

  “I don’t understand. Why don’t you…” She sucked in a ragged, quivering breath and listened to the rain pummel the building. “…hate me?”

  “Ah, sweetheart.” He drew her tenderly into his embrace. “How could I ever hate you?” He chuckled raggedly. “When I need you more than my next breath? I love you, Zoe.”

  Lightning speared the sky in a bright, hard flash. Aidan had just spoken words she’d waited all her life to hear. And, oh, how they hurt. Her heart stopped beating. She couldn’t draw in enough air. The floodgates collapsed, and sobs
burst out on a tangled surge of bittersweet despair.

  “Zoe?” Aidan’s strong arms tightened around her, and he tugged her into his lap. “That was supposed to make you happy.”

  “It c-can’t happen.” She’d finally found the devotion, the closeness she’d craved all her life, and she couldn’t accept it. She was a starving urchin, locked outside in the dark with her nose pressed to the bright window of a tempting banquet she could never taste. Everything had been torn away from her. She sobbed harder. “I d-don’t belong here. W-with you.”

  “Shh.” He held her tight and rocked her. “You don’t belong anywhere else.”

  “N-no, I can’t.” Didn’t he understand that a relationship was impossible? Grief was as hot and jagged as the lightning splitting apart the sky. Aidan was right about one thing; her hopes had been strangled to slow, painful death in those woods.

  She didn’t cry often, but her unfettered emotions ran rampant. “My entire life has been a lie. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m so scared,” she sobbed into his shirt. “So lost.”

  “Your life stands on its own merit. Your work speaks for itself. And you’re not lost, sweetheart.” He stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head. “I have you.”

  She struggled for control, but hours of repression wouldn’t be denied. The rain outside poured down, echoing her torrent of sorrow. As she sobbed out her pain, Aidan rocked her and hummed, his deep velvet voice low and soothing.

  Eventually, her sobs tapered off, and then stopped. She rested her cheek against his warm, wide chest and listened to his heart, thumping strong and steady beneath the soft cotton. Suddenly, she realized what he was humming. “You Really Got a Hold On Me.” Though her own heart was in shreds, her lips wobbled in a watery smile.

  He gently blotted her tears with a napkin. “There’s my girl.” He held a goblet to her lips. “Drink.”