by JM Stewart
He remembered her eyes the most. Those big honey-colored orbs were wide and wary, like she’d seen too much in her short life and wasn’t sure who to trust anymore. Even then the overwhelming need to protect her had grabbed him. Only now did he understand why.
“You don’t know your parents didn’t want you.” He stroked a hand down her cheek, reveling in the softness and the way she leaned her head into his palm. A tiny reaction that had him dreaming of “what if.”
“Then why aren’t they here? Why wouldn’t Gran tell me what happened?” Her head snapped up. “It’s a childish thing, to still wonder, to still feel abandoned after so many years. I know it is. But I can’t get past it, and I can’t help feeling as if Gran knew something she wasn’t telling me.”
His heart twisted with the familiar helplessness. They’d discussed this many times. No matter how he’d tried to reassure her, it always came back to her feelings of abandonment. She was so sure the secret her gran kept was that her parents had simply left, that they hadn’t wanted her, and he couldn’t tell her the truth.
The need to protect her, to keep her safe, was an automatic reaction. It hit him swift and strong, rising even above the desire. He hated hearing the pain in her voice. It killed him that he could do nothing to ease it, but he’d give his life to keep her safe. That included protecting her heart.
He stroked his thumb across her cheek, wishing like hell he could forever erase the uncertainty from her face. “There could be any number of reasons. You don’t know they didn’t want you or that they abandoned you. Maybe—”
She squeezed his hand. “I need to find them, Kyle. One way or another, I have to know what happened. It’s the only way I’ll ever be able to put this behind me.”
Her words jolted through him, and he released a heavy breath. He didn’t have to ask to know what she wanted. She’d asked before, many times over the past three years. He’d hoped, prayed, she wouldn’t ask again. “We talked about this when I searched before your grandmother died. I told you then I didn’t find anything.”
“Don’t give me the damn excuses.” Tension and frustration etched her voice, her brow furrowing. “There have to be other ways. People do it all the time. You do it all the time.”
He shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong. Sometimes the answers just aren’t there. Like these damn cases Marsha and I are working on. The pieces aren’t adding up, nobody’s talking, and we can’t find this guy, let alone put the son of a bitch in jail. Despite the best of my abilities, sometimes, they slip through the cracks.”
She was silent for a moment. Finally, her voice drifted through the darkness in a bare whisper, soft and vulnerable. “How can I give my child a future when I don’t even have a past? There’s this emptiness inside, and I don’t know what to do with it.”
He sighed in defeat and decided to try a more honest tactic. “Suppose you don’t like what you find?”
He knew she wouldn’t like what she found. It ate at his insides even now thinking of the pain it would cause her. He hadn’t been able to read the case file on her. For Ceci and her grandmother’s protection, it had been sealed, but he’d seen enough crime scenes to imagine what happened. Ceci’s dreams were essentially memories. She was a strong woman, but he agreed with her grandmother. She’d forgotten for a reason.
Unfortunately for him, her determination never wavered. He’d lost the last argument they’d had over this. She always came back to him with it, almost like clockwork. The last time was about a year ago. She’d put up one hell of a fight, too. He always said she should’ve become a lawyer. The woman loved to argue. It had caused a rift between them. She hadn’t spoken to him for weeks.
“If I don’t find out, then how do I know . . .” She paused and let out a shuddering sigh, then looked down at the bed, her fingers stroking idly over the sheet. “How do I know what kind of mother I’m going to be? Genetics play a big role in who you are.”
Her tiny voice made his heart ache, but a stronger emotion seized him. Memories of his father drifted through his thoughts and with them came the stubborn determination that had fueled his life.
“Uh-uh.” He lifted her chin with two fingers, forcing her focus back to him and not her pain and confusion. “Do you think I’d be where I am today if I believed that? Like my deadbeat father? I might as well make a vow of celibacy now and hide myself away. He was a drunk and a selfish son of a bitch. And he left. No way. You are who you choose to be. Your life isn’t defined by the people who left it. It’s defined by the people in it. You had your grandmother, and she loved and cherished you. Just like I had my mother and Evan, Chase, and Becca. We had each other, and we had you and your grandmother. That’s who I am.”
“Do you really believe that?”
His thumb traced the edge of her stubborn chin. “Yeah, I do. Otherwise I have no hope for my future. I was there the day my father walked out on us. I’ll never forget the look on his face, like he didn’t give a damn. And he never came back. Never called. Nothing. Damned if I’ll become anything like him.”
Despite the darkness, Ceci’s gaze burned into his, in that way that drove him crazy. Reaching. Searching. Completely oblivious of the torment she wrought within him. It reminded him too much of what they’d lost. A year ago she wouldn’t have hesitated. She’d have told him, whether he wanted to hear it or not.
“You say that with such sincerity, like you really believe it.”
“I do.” He hitched a shoulder.
“Why?”
“Hell, Ceci, I don’t know.” Feeling suddenly cornered and wondering where she was going with this, he released her chin. He rolled onto his back and slid his arm behind his head, staring up at the dark shape of the ceiling above him. “It’s what my mother always taught us. She said we could be anything we wanted as long as we were willing to work for it. Evan always told me the same thing. That if Dad didn’t want us, then we didn’t need him and maybe we were better off without him.”
“Smart woman, your mother.” Ceci’s tone was half-teasing but all honest. “It’s a wonder how she survived working two jobs and going to school at the same time. And poor Evan having to be responsible for the three of you.”
He let out a quiet laugh, the memories filling his mind. “It’s a wonder any of us survived Evan. Didn’t surprise me a bit when he went into the air force.”
Growing up, whenever his mother went to work or school, she left his oldest brother, Evan, in charge of the rest of them. To say Evan took being in charge seriously was an understatement. Six years older than Kyle, he seemed to take great pride in being a bossy tyrant, or so Kyle and his siblings all thought back then. He’d made sure they all did their homework and took baths, made sure they cleaned their rooms, and insisted they each take a chore to do every day. Evan had instilled in each of them a sense of obligation and determination. None of which their father had given them.
Ceci let out a quiet laugh that had him smiling along with her. The tension that had been hanging on her since she’d showed up on his doorstep finally left her. For a moment, she lay staring at him, and he couldn’t help himself. He extended his arm, and she scooted toward him, draping herself over his chest. She rested her chin on the back of her hand and stared at him as if lying that way was the most natural thing in the world.
It was such an intimate position, on so many levels. They’d done things like this a million times over the years. Things he now took for granted. A simple touch. A simple exchange. Back when he was so comfortable with her he didn’t hesitate to climb into bed with her if she needed him to hold her. So comfortable he got crap from his coworkers. Marsha didn’t believe he and Ceci were just friends. She’d been saying for years that there was definitely more behind their relationship. Joe, one of the other detectives, said he’d have to be gay not to want to be with her. They were both right to an extent. He wasn’t gay, but he often wondered if he’d lost his mind.
She clearly felt so comfortable with him she hadn’
t hesitated to curl into a position that would’ve fooled darn near anyone into thinking they shared a lot more than friendship. That they were lovers. With her lying this way, he could easily imagine it. Her breasts pressed against him. Her heat radiated through him. Her heartbeat thudded against his chest. Could she feel the rapid pounding of his? He longed to pull her on top of him, stretch her out along his length, so he could feel the slight weight of her there. The full press of her body against his.
“I missed you, Kyle. I missed this.” She whispered the words, her soft breaths fanning his mouth.
Kyle couldn’t think enough to drag in a breath. He was excruciatingly aware of how close she was. All he had to do was lift his head and he could claim her mouth. The intense desire to do exactly that expanded in his chest, and his arms closed around her, holding her there. Even if that was all he could do.
“Yeah, me too.” What he needed was to let her go. Make up some lame excuse about why he preferred to sleep on the sofa. Sleeping beside her, with her in his arms, would be torturous at best. Because right then, he ached to lift his head and kiss her. God, how he ached for one taste. With any other woman, he wouldn’t have hesitated.
But she wasn’t any other woman. She was his best friend, and he kept secrets from her. He could never be with her knowing he’d lied about something so important to her. And he could never tell her.
So, what he needed to do was reset his boundaries, but damned if his arms would release her. Instead, they stroked over the smooth expanse of her back as he reveled in the supple shape of her body.
Ceci lay motionless, her hands braced on his shoulders. It wasn’t his imagination that her breathing suddenly grew harsher and more ragged. Or that her body trembled beneath his palms. She released a long, serrated breath. Her gaze seared into him. Electricity zipped through the air, subtle, more of an awareness that spiked between them, but there all the same. Her fingers curled around his shoulders.
The way she stared at him, the heat of her gaze, had all those fantasies coming to life in his head. His heart hammered like a runaway freight train, a keen sense of awareness humming through him. Was it a trick of the light, or was that desire in her eyes? He ached to lift his head, cover her mouth with his and find out.
When he was sure he’d lose his mind and do everything he shouldn’t, namely finding out how she’d respond if he kissed her, Ceci drew a deep breath. She averted her gaze for a moment, her body stiffening against him. Several moments passed in aching silence as he waited, poised on the edge of doing something really stupid, when she finally looked back up at him. “Please say you’ll help me.”
Whatever he thought he’d seen in her eyes was gone. Now those soft honey-colored eyes pleaded with him, searching his face, and in her soft gaze and her whispered plea, the realization washed over him. He’d gotten so caught up in her he’d allowed himself to believe in the fantasy. That she’d finally—finally!—started to see him as something more than the boy next door, that she’d finally seen him as a man. He’d been with enough women to know a moment when he felt one.
Or so he’d allowed himself to believe. Apparently, she was just drumming up the nerve to approach him again, and he was a hopeless fool.
Kyle closed his eyes and let his arms drop to the bed, the shock of disappointment pressing down on his chest. Yeah, keep dreaming, Morgan. The day Cecelia Anton noticed him as anything more than the boy next door was the day his tomboy sister, Becca, stepped into a pair of high heels.
“I know you don’t want me to get hurt, but I need to do this.” Ceci’s warm hand slid over his chest, a slow, torturous stroke that turned him inside out. He was left caught somewhere between the friend he was supposed to be and all those delicious fantasies.
Kyle expelled a heavy breath in an attempt to release the frustration winding his gut in knots and opened his eyes. She stared at him, her eyes pleading with him, but he couldn’t answer her question. What the hell could he say? This quest of hers was the major reason why he couldn’t ever tell her he was in love with her and partly why he’d spent the last six months trying to put some distance between them. He couldn’t give her the answer she wanted. Helping her was out of the question.
As he watched the longing play through Ceci’s eyes, her grandmother’s words that long-ago day floated into his mind. The memory came as vividly as if it happened only yesterday. It was a memory that would never leave him. It’s what kept him on this side of the line.
He’d gone to see Gran in the hospital, a newspaper article he’d come across in hand and a thousand questions. He’d never forget the way she’d smiled as he came to stand beside her bed. She’d looked a little worse for wear, her eyes sunken and rimmed in shadow. Fatigue and illness had hung on her, but she’d smiled nonetheless, her pale blue eyes watery but bright.
Estelle reached out a shaky hand. “Sweet boy. I’m so glad you came to see me.”
He took her hand gently in his and bent to kiss her cheek. “Mrs. Anton—”
“Gran.” Her brow furrowed, her stern expression one he’d seen before. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Gran?”
“Gran.” He repeated her name and smiled, his heart caught in his throat.
She smiled again, a triumphant gleam in her eyes, and nodded toward the chair beside the bed. “Sit. You have something on your mind. I can see it in your eyes. Sit down and tell me what’s troubling you.”
“I won’t stay long.” Rather than sit, he reached into the front pocket of his jacket with his free hand, pulling out the newspaper article he’d printed off an hour before. A picture of Cecelia lined the top. She was seven at the time, her big eyes wide and round, hair hanging past her shoulders, longer than when he’d met her, but he’d know that face anywhere. His eyes scanned the page, the first line jumping out at him.
Police have launched an investigation after two bodies were found on the east side early Thursday morning . . .
Finally, he sighed and looked back down at Gran. He knew without asking she wouldn’t like the news he was about to share. Ceci had shared too many of their arguments over the years. “Ceci had me searching for information about her parents.”
Gran expelled a heavy breath and closed her eyes. She lay in silence for a moment before finally opening them again.
“I was afraid of that.” She met his gaze with calm resignation. “I’m guessing you found something.”
He didn’t miss the way she’d phrased her words. He sank into the edge of the chair beside the bed. “Why do I get the feeling you knew I would?”
“Because I read the article when it published. It’s why I didn’t want her searching. I knew if she dug too deep, she’d find something.” She pulled her hand back, her fingers visibly trembling as she reached up to cover her thin lips. She dropped her head back against the bed and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, tears glimmered in the corners. She gripped his hand again, her fingers biting into his. “You mustn’t ever tell her, Kyle. Someday, she may remember everything that article outlines, but right now, she doesn’t, and I won’t bring that back for her.”
He shook his head. “You can’t keep this from her. If she finds out, it’ll devastate her.”
“I know!” She spat the words at him, her voice cracking at the end.
When she began to cough and sputter, he rose to his feet, pulling the oxygen mask from where it rested on her chest, and placed it over her nose and mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. We’ll do this another time.”
She shook her head but settled her hand over his, breathing deeply for several moments. When her coughing stopped, she pulled mask off. Her gaze narrowed on his, stern and uncompromising. “No. Now that you know the story, you need to know the whole story. So you know why you can’t ever tell her. . . .”
Gran could tell a hell of a heartfelt story. Twice she stopped and wept silently while squeezing his hand with a strength that had flat-out surprised him. Ceci’s father had been an accoun
tant to the wealthy. He’d witnessed a client—a major drug dealer, unbeknownst to him—shoot and kill someone. He’d literally been at the wrong place at the wrong time. In exchange for his testimony, the police had offered him and his family protection. Unfortunately, as it sometimes happens, things fall through the cracks. The dealer had promised retribution and got it in the end. Ceci had suffered for years.
“She’d wake up screaming, night after night. Too terrified to sleep in her own bed. When she finally forgot, I let her. She found peace. I won’t bring that back for her. I won’t, and I’m begging you not to either.”
“And if she remembers?”
Gran squeezed his hand. “Then we’ll deal with it. For now, she’s happy. Let her stay that way.”
Kyle opened his eyes, looking back to Ceci’s shadow beside him. He’d done some checking first, had spoken to the department psychologist, but in the end, he’d made Gran the promise. Right or wrong. Ceci’s well-being mattered most. If it meant he had to give up their friendship, then it was what he’d do. He wouldn’t be the one to bring that nightmare back for her. If Ceci was going to do this, she’d have to do it without him.
Tension knotted the muscles in his shoulders. He swallowed the curse forming on his tongue and repeated the words he’d told her before. “Sometimes it’s better to leave the past where it is. Dig too deep and you may uncover information you wish you’d never known.”
He rolled over, forcing her to slide off to his side, and turned his back to her. Having to hold it together all the time, to hide from the one person who knew him better than anyone, was taking its toll. He needed some kind of distance between them or he’d lose his mind. “I’m tired. Can’t we talk about this tomorrow?”
“All right. ’Night, Kyle.” She shifted behind him, but it didn’t escape his notice that she didn’t curl against his back.
The distinct lack of her touch left an empty ache settling in his chest. He’d wanted distance between them and had gotten it in spades. For the first time since he’d known her, Ceci became a stranger.
