Love & Hate Series Box Set 2 (Love & Hate #3-4)

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Love & Hate Series Box Set 2 (Love & Hate #3-4) Page 9

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz


  Since Steph, I haven’t tried to be in a relationship. I slept with girls when I was at university, but I have never gone any further than that. Her death burned a hole in my heart. Don’t ask me why I thought this might be different with Kerry. I misjudged her; it was never going to be anything more between us.

  “Kerry, no offence, but I don’t want to play this game any longer. Maybe we should ease off sleeping with each other,” I say, after clearing my throat. Then two things happen at once.

  Kerry growls, “You’re mine and this arrangement works on my rules. You don’t know what you’re saying, you ungrateful son of a bitch!”

  “Here are your starters,” Tahlia says, appearing right at the same time, placing two plates of food in front of us. She heard Kerry; there is no doubt about that. Kerry is ignoring her completely, staring straight at me, whereas Tahlia has that ridiculous smirk on her face.

  “Enjoy,” she adds with her sweet voice and vanishes quickly enough.

  The atmosphere around the table shifts and I feel like I’m sinking back into oblivion, feeling numb and alone.

  “Listen. I thought that we could have a good time tonight.”

  She opens her mouth like she is ready for a full-blown argument, but then just shakes her head. I can feel Tahlia watching us, probably glad that I’m getting a taste of my own medicine.

  “Micah, I took care of you, whispered a good word to Clarke about you, made sure that all your reports were done on time. In return I expect you to show some gratitude. The sex has always been great, but you’re not what I’m looking for in the long run. Besides, are you sure you’re capable of giving me more, baby?” she asks, emphasising the word baby, just as Tahlia shows up again.

  I clench my fists, staring at her, feeling like a fool.

  “Is everything all right with your meal?” Tahlia asks.

  “Fine, now just give us some peace,” I snap. She narrows her eyes at me but doesn’t say anything. I run my hand through my hair, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. Why can’t I maintain any control when she is around?

  “There, I said it. We both know that relationships complicate things, so how about we stick to what we know? Sex.”

  “No, Kerry. I’m done. You kind of put me off that too,” I reply, trying to stay calm. She presses her lips in a hard line and leans forward.

  “Trust me, Micah, you don’t want to have an enemy in me. I can easily ruin you,” Kerry whispers, looking directly at me. All of a sudden I have lost my appetite.

  “Well, I’m afraid that I’m willing to take that chance. It was a mistake—us. We should have never slept together. “

  “It was never a mistake. I was the best thing that happened to you,” she says, shaking her head. “Trust me. If you stick with me I can make sure you will shine, Detective, rise above the others.”

  “No, Kerry, there won’t be us anymore. This case is fucking important to me and I’m done with being fucked around.”

  She drops her fork on the floor and stares at me with her eyes wide. I feel like an idiot, a failure. Why the hell didn’t I realise how wrong this was sooner? Kerry was manipulating me, using me as her toy boy. There was never going to be any more than what we already had.

  “You will regret this. Micah Thomson. You just ruined your career,” she hisses, getting up abruptly. Before I know it she is walking away, leaving me alone at the table. She was the one that humiliated me, not the other way around, so I should be the one walking away. A few customers glance at me, probably wondering what the hell I’ve done to my date. I haven’t touched my food yet and it’s only just after nine. We have been here for an hour.

  “Trouble in paradise?” the alluring voice asks.

  I don’t know what it is, but Tahlia Sanderson does something to me. I instantly forget about Kerry, and my anger fades. I should snap at her, tell her that it’s none of her business, but another argument won’t make this any easier for either of us.

  “Sit down; we need to talk,” I order her. Fuck, where the hell did that tone of voice even come from?

  “As you can see”—she pauses and leans over, and the heat starts tingling my skin—”butthole, I’m at work and I don’t have to talk to you. Do both of us a favour and get the fuck out of here.”

  “Please sit. I’m sure your boss won’t mind. I just need you to listen to me for a minute,” I ask, shifting my tone of voice. I’m turning into a nut case, a big softy.

  She calculates her next move, glancing around. It’s not that busy anymore and everyone is past their main courses. If she has a problem with her boss, then I’ll talk to him.

  She takes Kerry’s seat and looks at me with those sharp grey eyes. “What do you want?”

  “What time do you get off?”

  She looks disturbed by that question. “Why?”

  “Just answer the question,” I say, then add, “please.”

  “In about an hour, but I don’t ge—”

  “Listen, we got off on the wrong foot. How about I buy you a drink after you finish your shift, and pay for that wheel?”

  It takes a lot to say that, but in the end of the day I need to solve the murder—and find out why I can’t stop thinking about this girl. Even now I want to run my hand over her tattoos. These feelings are petrifying me, almost to the point that I’m suffocating.

  “What happened to your date? She couldn’t stand the fact that a pretty face doesn’t always have pretty mouth too?” She smirks, trying to humiliate me.

  “I guess I deserved that one,” I say.

  “You did. I want cash for my bike first if you want to talk,” she adds. “Also, you can’t ask me any questions about Suranne. Deal?”

  I can’t agree to that, but I don’t have any other choice at the moment. I can drag her to the station and keep her locked up for one or two nights, but I know for a fact that she won’t talk. She is a tough cookie and she won’t break. Maybe that’s the main reason that my dick reacts this way.

  “All right, I’ll be waiting at ten. Don’t be fucking late.”

  She winks at me and nods. For some reason I feel like I have just won the lottery and that ain’t fucking normal.

  Chapter Eleven

  My true colours, black and some grey.

  “Is everything okay, sir?” asks the bald guy approaching my table. He is most probably the manager of the restaurant. He didn’t look very happy earlier on, when Tahlia sat down right in front of me, replacing Kerry’s seat.

  “The service was excellent. You should give the waitress a raise,” I tell him.

  He nods, mumbles something under his breath about high taxes, then tells me that he is hoping to see me here again soon. When I’m finally at the door, I glance back in the restaurant and see Tahlia watching me with a puzzled expression on her face. Her gaze is magnetic. I know that I’m not supposed to ask any potential suspect out, but what Clarke doesn’t know won’t hurt him. Besides, I fucking want her for myself, not because she is an important witness.

  Kerry must have taken a taxi home. This evening was a complete disaster. I should have never told her what I wanted; now she can use that weakness against me. Maybe I can’t be fixed, my numbness is all I will ever have. My own demons are hammering me with visions every night, and I don’t want to be anyone’s puppet.

  Within ten minutes I get into my car, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. I don’t start the engine straight away but just sit there, staring at the street ahead. I finished the dinner after Kerry left. She left me with the bill to pay and I don’t like wasting food. I was starving and once she was gone, I ate in peace.

  I lock the car and set my alarm to ring in an hour. There is no point in going home when I have to meet Tahlia in an hour. I close my eyes, hoping to snooze for a bit, forget about the stress and arguments. The excitement finally wears off.

  I begin to drift into dreamland.

  Tahlia

  I nearly walked out when he showed up in the restaurant with some woman that looke
d much older than him. I assumed that he was still single, after what happened to his girlfriend. He pissed me right off when he followed me around campus earlier on, and then he turned up at my place of work. I knew that sooner or later I was going to lose it.

  Micah Thomson still doesn’t remember our entwined past, and I know that I shouldn’t have been surprised. We have never spent much time together, and my face was deformed and very bruised. No one could have recognised me then.

  I was wrong about him. I believed that he wouldn’t just leave me then, when I was so dependent on other people, but he did and I have never forgiven him for breaking me all over again.

  All the fucking cops are always the same—superior with their heads stuck far in their own arses. Micah doesn’t know that I’m aware of his dirty secret—or that I know who killed his girlfriend. He is clueless.

  He failed to help me, and now after so many years he failed to see who I really am. The tattoos and the hair might be misleading, but if he would look beyond that, he would notice the real connection. It hurts that he doesn’t recognise what kind of man he’s become.

  I deal with the pain from the past every day. There is nothing worse than closing my eyes at night, being aware that I will wake up several hours later screaming, petrified that he has found me. Lee assured me that he was dead, that I shouldn’t be worried, but life is never that easy. He visits me in my dreams, and he keeps hurting me. In the night the pain never stops.

  “Sit down; we need to talk.” Micah throws an order at me when I show up at his table. Chris always reminds me to check on the customers.

  That idiot has cheek, ordering me to sit down in my own fucking restaurant. I could ruin his career if I want to; no one likes complaints about sexual harassment.

  “As you can see,” I say, then pause, leaning over to emphasise the next word, “butthole, I’m at work and I don’t have to talk to you. Do both of us a favour and get the fuck out of here.”

  I like making him feel small, but he strips the layers of self-preservation away. I feel vulnerable being around him. For some reason he helped me deal with the demons and with the raw and painful past. Since he came back into my life, I can’t stop thinking about our moments together, the pleasant moments that he doesn’t remember anymore. This way I feel like a human again.

  “Please sit. I’m sure your boss won’t mind. I just need you to listen to me for a minute,” he asks, dropping his usual superior tone of voice.

  I’m a little stunned that he isn’t playing the bad cop anymore. I can’t help myself; that tone of voice does something to me. Heat spreads all over my body, getting into places that I had ignored for years, that I have forgotten about. Despite my soul, my body is healed.

  I start glancing around to make sure that all the customers are all right. It’s not that busy anymore. I handled the main courses twenty minutes ago. Chris will have a problem with this, but he’s too scared of me to say anything.

  I replace his fuck buddy’s seat and look straight at him.

  “What do you want?”

  “What time do you get off?”

  His voice sends a shiver down my spine, and my heart accelerates. Shit, I can’t feel like that. He’s betrayed me once already.

  “Why?”

  “Just answer the question,” he says, then adds, “please.”

  “In about an hour, but I don’t ge–”

  “Listen, we got off on the wrong foot. How about I buy you a drink after you finish your shift, and pay for that wheel?”

  I need some time to think about this. It doesn’t matter how handsome he is. I can’t slip, pretend that I’m okay with this. The sadist is dead, and I shouldn’t be worried at all.

  “What happened to your date? She couldn’t stand the fact that a pretty face doesn’t always have a pretty mouth too?” I smirk, trying to humiliate him a bit. It doesn’t make me feel any better, but hell, this is how I survive.

  “I guess I deserved that one,” he says with a smile. God, it took that long to get a positive response out of him.

  “You did. I want cash for my bike first if you want to talk,” I add. “Also, you can’t ask me any questions about Suranne. Deal?”

  He agrees to that and I’m glad, because deep down Micah isn’t ready for the real truth. I’ve spent so much time living in fear, afraid that he would find me, away from everyone. Only a year ago when I got the news, my new life finally started to make sense. He was rotting in hell, and I was finally free.

  “All right, I’ll be waiting at ten. Don’t be fucking late.”

  I wake up hearing the sound of my alarm. It’s a tune that I hate, but it does the job. I’m in my car and I must have fallen into a much deeper sleep than I anticipated.

  I press my fingers to my eyes, trying to push away the anger. Kerry shot me down and nothing can change that. For some reason I feel relief instead of pain over it. I think it’s because of pinky head. Tahlia is still messing around with my head, and I wonder if I’m becoming obsessed with her.

  The feeling of excitement comes back, and I’m aware of the lust that is stuck to me like glue. The case is important, but Tahlia has slipped under my skin, forcing me to look beyond the facts. She can’t be guilty. Steph’s murderer is still out there somewhere, probably targeting a new victim. I need to find out if Suranne was one.

  It takes around seven minutes to get back to the restaurant. The pinky head is outside waiting for me. She has a grey vintage coat on and she loosened her hair, so it falls freely around her shoulders. My dick reacts yet again, but I pretend that it’s just a friendly meeting with no expectations.

  She still makes me pretty mad with that snarky attitude and her offensive nicknames, but tonight is my chance to hopefully get to know the other her. The girl that is hiding behind her tattoos and piercing.

  “I thought you stood me up, Detective,” she snaps.

  “I’m not that kind of guy, pinky head,” I reply. “You must be hungry, you know, after a long shift like that?”

  She tosses her pink hair behind her. “I’ll survive, but if you really want to show me that you aren’t an arsehole, then we can go to one of the places that serves food until two a.m.”

  “Lead on, then,” I say.

  I have to keep reminding myself that she’s just some girl with a heavy past. My dick cannot dictate what I do. Clarke won’t hesitate to fire my ass if he finds out that I’m getting cozy with a witness.

  The place that she has in mind is a take-out. There is a group of students outside waiting for their orders.

  “I had something else in mind entirely,” I mutter.

  “Too common for a hot shot detective like you?”

  She winds me up, but that only makes me fucking want her more.

  “No, I wanted to sit down and talk.”

  “We can buy some beers from off-licence and sit outside the library. Trust me, Micah, I know how to have a good time.”

  “I bet you do.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks, dropping the smile.

  “Nothing, Pinky. Chill and order your kebab,” I say. I need to watch my tongue sometimes. Tahlia isn’t like Kerry. Everything that she does is thought out and simple, and for some reason I like it.

  She asks me to pay for her food. Then we go to the shop next door and buy cheap booze. We don’t talk, but the tension between us zooms and I begin to wonder if she senses it like I do.

  “What were you doing on your bike in Broomly that day when we crashed?” I ask.

  “You’re breaking our agreement. You’re off the case this evening,” she reminds me and drinks some of the beer.

  “I’m just making conversation. I’m curious.”

  We move through the gate, entering the university grounds. It’s dark and this place is not safe. I wonder if she walks here alone after work.

  “I like riding in the rain. It’s just some of the crazy stuff that I do sometimes to distance myself from reality,” she says and takes a gene
rous bite of her food.

  “Odd, but whatever turns you on.”

  I think back to that moment we both stood in the rain. That day I saw the exact shape of her breasts. Tame it, Micah, you’re getting too attached to her.

  “So what’s your deal, Detective? What turns you on? The posh woman from the restaurant?” she asks, stopping.

  No, you and your mouth. I want to lock myself in a room and just hold you close.

  I drag my hand through my hair, attempting to push away that image of Tahlia in my arms. It’s paralysing. I don’t deserve to feel anything.

  “She’s just someone that passes the time.” I shrug and continue walking.

  “Nice one. So you’re an arsehole who likes sex, but doesn’t want to commit,” she observes.

  “Wrong. She was the one that wanted to use me, but I didn’t see it. We haven’t been a good match anyway.”

  “Here, that’s where I normally finish the food and beer. The best spot in campus,” she says, ignoring my explanation about Kerry. Right in front of us there is a library and a bench. Tahlia flops on the bench and puts the beer on the ground. I have an odd sense of déjà vu, like I have been close to her before. Impossible. I’m probably stressed out.

  “How long have you worked in that restaurant?” I ask.

  “Only a couple of weeks,” she replies and throws the rest of her food to the bin. “I’ve had enough. Let’s drink. Maybe you can chill and stop asking me pointless questions.”

  I laugh and, using my key, I open another beer that I have been carrying in the bag.

  “Pointless. I’m trying to get to know you, Pinky Head. Fire away. I’m sure you have some things you want to ask me.”

  She brushes her arm over mine and I fucking like it. The heat in my groin is back, but I can’t have a boner right now. It’s inappropriate.

  “I know enough, so no, I’m fine,” she says and drinks more beer. I turn my face to look at her. This closeness is dangerous. All I can think of is her body, the heat that spreads down my arms again.

 

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