Then maybe she could ignore the way his cock had felt in her hand. Ignore how she'd practically come from one touch of his hand.
Connor reappeared in her doorway, holding the Vicodin bottle and a glass of water. "Here you go."
She shook her head. "Not taking that stuff today. I have to go to school."
He narrowed his gaze at her. "School? Are you kidding me? You were in the emergency room last night. You should be spending the day on your couch, watching cheesy daytime television and giving me orders."
"Can't do that." Although the idea of giving Connor orders was ...appealing. Maybe they'd try that when she wasn't 'indisposed'. She tossed back the sheet and blanket and slid out of bed. "I have to go to school."
He frowned. "Doesn't your head hurt? And your shoulder?" She couldn't read his expression. He looked distant. Detached, somehow.
"Yeah, they do." She touched the side of her face. It felt puffy and hurt like hell. When she rotated her shoulder, it was stiff and sore. "But I'll take some ibuprofen and it'll be fine."
Connor set the pill bottle on her dresser. "You should stay home."
She opened her mouth to make a snarky comment, then closed it. He'd stayed with her in the emergency room. Gotten her dinner, watched television with her, taken care of her. Tried to sleep on that horridly uncomfortable chair in her bedroom. "I appreciate your concern. But I have to go to school today. I need to talk to Bella."
His expression softened. "Her father is still in Cook County Jail. I called last night to check. They're going to ask for a high bond, and they'll get it. He won't be going home to hurt Bella's mother."
"Or Bella," she said.
His face darkened. "He was beating her, too?"
"She had bruises on her throat. He choked her." At the memory of the marks on Bella's neck, Raine's anger flared again.
He reached for her hand. "That's what you were going to tell Jennings at the meet."
"Yes. She begged me not to tell, but I had no choice."
"No. You didn't. Not if you suspected abuse."
"I didn't suspect. I knew."
His expression hardened, and he opened his mouth. Closed it again. "Okay. I get you need to talk to Bella. Couldn't you just catch her after school?"
"No. I'm going in for the day."
He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, touched the bruise softly. "You're gonna scare your students."
She laughed. "Clearly, you haven't spent enough time around middle-school kids. They'll be impressed. Think it's really cool. For a couple of days, I'll be the sickest teacher in the building."
"Fine. Go in and be the cool teacher today. Talk to Bella. At least let me drive you in and pick you up. And you can call me if you need to come home. I won't gloat. I promise."
"You would so gloat."
His mouth curled up for a moment. "Yeah, I would." The smile disappeared. "We need to talk before you go to school."
"That's the second time you said that. What do we need to talk about?"
"Have a seat."
Her heart quivered in her chest. "If it's about what happened this morning, I apolog..."
"It's not about that. But we can talk about that, too. For the record, though, I don't want an apology."
He stared at her, his expression hungry. She was afraid her expression mirrored his. "I don't have time to talk now. I have to take a shower and get to school."
A muscle twitched in his jaw as he stared at her for a long moment. Finally he said. "Fine. I'll fix some breakfast while you shower. We'll talk while you eat."
She frowned as she watched him. His shoulders were tense. His eyes too...determined. Not smiling. "I'm not hungry."
Without stopping or looking back at her, he said, "You need food or those pain pills will eat a hole in your stomach."
She watched him pull a carton of eggs out of her refrigerator, as well as a loaf of bread and some shredded cheese. What did he want to talk about?
"Give me a hint," she said.
"Omelets. Toast."
"No. What did you want to talk about?"
He cracked an egg on the rim of the bowl, and the shell shattered into six pieces. The egg landed on the counter with a soft plop. He wiped it all into the sink and cracked another one. "Go take your shower," he said without looking at her.
She hesitated for a moment, unease stirring in her belly. But Connor kept his back turned as he yanked on the faucet and filled the coffee maker with water. The carafe clattered against the plastic as he shoved it into place. "Shower," he called.
Once in the bathroom, she fumbled with the ibuprofen bottle and swallowed three tablets. A dull pain pounded at her head and her shoulder ached when she lifted her arm. But she got into the shower and scrubbed away the dirt from yesterday, then washed her hair as best she could without getting the bandage on her head wet. As she was finishing up, the scent of coffee drifted into the partially open bathroom door.
Connor was a good guy. And she wanted him. Badly.
She wasn't going to kid herself or play coy. They were headed to bed. Soon. The other night at Peter's house, and this morning in her bedroom, made that inevitable.
Under different circumstances, it might have been more than hot sex and good times. Her heart sped up whenever she looked at Connor. From the way his gaze softened when he caught her eye, she'd bet his heart sped up, too.
If they'd met before Genie died, she and Connor might have built something lasting together.
Now, though, sex and fun was all it could be.
She'd promised to find justice for her sister, and that had to be her focus. She couldn't allow the distraction of messy attachments and complicated relationships. She'd enjoy Connor, and he'd enjoy her. And when it ended, they'd say goodbye and go on with their lives.
Besides, she wasn't the only one holding back. She didn't know why, but Connor was wary and slow to trust. Slow to open up. Clearly, fun and simple was what he wanted, too.
Who knew fun and simple would be so unsatisfying.
Chapter 14
The bathroom door opened and the sharp, edgy scent of oranges drifted into the kitchen on a wave of moist, post-shower air. That scent was burned into his brain. From now on, eating an orange would conjure memories of Raine.
Behind Connor, she padded across the floor to her bedroom. He dropped two slices of bread into the toaster. Slammed the lever down to start them browning.
Behind the closed bedroom door, drawers opened and shut. Something fell against the door. Raine? He dropped the spatula and took two steps toward the bedroom before he stopped himself.
Raine had said repeatedly that she could take care of herself. That she didn't need help. So he'd stay in the kitchen.
Part of him, the part that wanted to protect her, to save her from herself, urged him to check on her.
The other part, the part that was angry about what she'd done, kept his feet in front of the stove. He couldn't think like the guy who wanted to take Raine to bed.
He needed some distance between them before he confronted her.
The door opened and her shoes echoed on the hardwood floor as she headed toward the kitchen. The citrus-sweet scent of oranges intensified. A kitchen chair squeaked as the toast popped up.
"Perfect timing." He buttered the toast, then slid the omelet onto the plate and put it in front of her.
The bruise covering the side of her face was shocking against the stark white of her skin. Purple circles beneath her eyes made it look as if she hadn't slept a wink. Her gaze held his, and he nodded toward her plate.
"Eat while I talk."
Her fork clattered against her plate. "What are we talking about?"
He pointed the spatula at her. “Eat”.
She held his gaze for a beat too long. Her eyes dropped and she took a bite of the omelet. Her face softened. "This is good."
"Learned it from my mom. Cook when you’re pissed off. Softens the edges.” He leaned against the stove, still warm from cooki
ng the omelet, and crossed his arms.
“What are you pissed off about?”
She took another bite of the omelet, as if she had no idea, and he struggled to rein in his temper. She was eating breakfast, getting ready to go to school. Like it was a normal day. If he hadn't gotten to Abrietto in time, she might be in the hospital. Or worse.
"What the hell were you thinking yesterday?"
She held his gaze, her eyes cool. "I was thinking I had to protect Bella. I didn't plan what happened with her father." She touched the bruise on her face, tickled her fingers over the suture line. "I never intended to let him hit me."
"The hell you didn't." He straightened, furious with the lie. "I watched the replay with Jennings. You positioned yourself near the security camera. You were careful to get everything on tape. That was pre-meditated. You wanted him to hit you."
Those images would play in his nightmares for a long time. They'd infuriated him. Made him hate both Abrietto and Raine. Made him sick.
The way Raine's head had snapped back when the first blow struck her. Her grimace of pain when Abrietto drove his fist into her shoulder.
Abrietto trying to kick Raine, who had curled into a ball on the floor.
"I didn't call him to the school." Raine's voice was cool, but her hand shook and the fork clattered against the plate. "He showed up on his own."
"But you planned the way you ended up in the hall, away from everyone. You thought you could take him. Didn't you?"
She stared at him without answering, but he saw the truth in her eyes.
"Damn it, Raine! Answer me." He flattened his palms on the table and loomed over her. “Or are you going to try and tell me it was all an accident? That you didn't mean any of it?"
“Of course I thought I could take him. I have a black belt in tae kwon do, for God’s sake. He’s just a bullying thug.” The cool confidence had leached out of her eyes, replaced by irritation. As if being beaten bloody was a minor blip, a momentary aberration.
He kicked her trash can and it tumbled across the linoleum. "Are you out of your fucking mind?"
She scowled at him, but her throat rippled as she swallowed twice. “I knew what I was doing. I had it all planned out. I told him to wait for me in the hall. I needed to get him away from the girls before Bella came out of the locker room."
She took a deep breath. Squared her shoulders. As if she knew she was defending a weak position. "He was angry before he walked into that gym. While we talked, he clenched and unclenched his fists. I knew that if he took Bella home, he'd hurt her. So, yeah. I was going to let him tag me. Enough to charge him with assault. Not enough to hurt me."
Fury boiled up and spilled out of him. “And how did that work out for you, Raine? You were in control the whole time, right? You meant to end up looking like that.” He gestured at her face.
She flinched. "I got distracted. For one moment. That's when he punched me."
"Exactly." He slapped the kitchen table, and the plate jumped. "You got distracted. And he beat you bloody. What did you expect? You took on an angry guy who's twice your weight, and surprise, surprise. He flattened you."
"Don't gloat, Connor," she muttered. "I learned my lesson. I won’t be distracted again."
"The hell you learned your lesson." His head was going to explode. “You’re not big enough or strong enough to go up against a guy twice your size. And what happened with Abrietto is going to happen every time you get into a street fight. You think Northrup is going to play by the rules? You think he’s going to give you a fair fight?”
"Peter has nothing to do with this."
"He has everything to do with this. Because this is exactly what you've been doing with Northrup. Trying to goad him into attacking you, just like you did with Bella's father.” Connor took a deep breath. Another. Never before had he been this angry with a woman.
“How long have you been making plans for Northrup?” The shock in her eyes gave him a jolt of vicious satisfaction. “What? You think I’m stupid? You thought I wouldn’t figure it out?
She stared at him, silent. Her face had whitened even more, until she was completely colorless.
“Did it start when your sister died? Or did it begin long before that?” He bent until his face was inches from hers. “When did you start doing tae kwon do?"
She shook her head. "What does that have to do with anything?"
He was close enough to feel the catch in her breath. “When did you find out that Northrup was hitting your sister?"
Understanding flashed in her eyes. "About a year after I started."
"You sure you didn't take up martial arts after you found out what was going on? You sure you haven't been planning this for years?"
"Yes." Her voice was flat. "I had my own reasons for taking it up. Reasons that had nothing to do with Peter."
He saw no deception in her eyes. But she was a good liar. And he was too enraged to be a good judge right now. If he’d ever been. His hand curled into a fist, and he forced his palm flat on the table. Captain Anderson had been lying for years and Connor never realized it. "Then why did you start?"
"That's personal. And none of your business." She shoved the mostly uneaten omelet and toast away.
Oh, God. "Were you attacked?"
She held his gaze. "No."
Truth? Lie? He wasn't sure. "Okay. Fine. You made your plans and the tae kwon do was just a bonus. But you're still trying to goad him into attacking you. Aren't you?"
Her mouth tightened and a muscle in her jaw twitched. "Genie’s dead. He murdered her and he's gotten away with it." She lifted her chin. "He has to pay for what he did to her."
"That's not your job, Raine!" His voice rose. "Leave it to the police." He was too close to her, and he straightened abruptly, struggling for control.
"I tried to, damn it! I called them for weeks afterward. Begged them to listen to me. Both of the detectives working the case ignored me. They patted me on the head and told me to be a good girl and let them do their job. Their definition of doing their jobs? That was calling Genie's death a random mugging and labeling it unsolved." Her stormy green eyes flashed at him. "They left me no choice."
He knew the detectives who'd handled Genie Northrup's murder. They were a couple of mopes mailing it in until they got their twenty-five. "You should have gone to their captain. Continued up the chain of command until someone listened to you."
"You think I should have wasted my time dealing with the bureaucracy? Trying to get someone to listen to me when Genie was in the ground and Peter was going on with his life like nothing had happened?"
"Yes. You should have kept pushing until someone listened."
"That's easy for you to say," Raine said bitterly. She lifted her chin. "What would you do if your sister had been killed and her murder was written off as a mugging?" Her eyes flashed and a muscle in her jaw twitched. "And you knew it was more than that?"
He would have done whatever it took to catch her killer. He would have been relentless. Just like Raine. His voice softened. "You can't take the law into your own hands, Raine."
"So you're telling me I need to let this go? To walk away?" She shoved the chair back and stood up, quivering with anger. "Not going to happen. I'm patient. I can wait. But I will get justice for my sister."
"Jesus, Raine." He shoved his hand through his hair and stepped closer Crowded her. She didn't back down.
"Northrup already hurt you." He grabbed her hand and shoved her sleeve up to her elbow, revealing a circle of bruises above her wrist. "Do you have bruises on your back, too? Where he shoved you against a car?" He spun her around and yanked the tail of her blouse out of her pants. An ugly purple and yellow mark colored the skin next to the bumps of her spine and followed them into her waistband.
He turned her again to face him. "Did you take him out when he did that to you, Raine? Did you use your fancy moves to put him on the ground?"
She wrenched out of his grasp, but her face tightened. So she hadn
't. "How did you find out about that?"
"Someone saw him manhandling you and called the police." Connor flexed his fingers. "He's almost twice your size. Muscular. Fit."
He gripped her shoulders and tugged her toward him, until their faces were inches apart. "You won't be able to manipulate him. You think he'd fall for your set-up the way Abrietto did?" She didn't answer. "No. He's too smart for that."
He pushed her against the refrigerator. Held her wrists in his hands and crowded close. When she tried to slide away from him, he pressed closer. "I'm Northrup. What are you going to do to me?"
She was going to drive her knee into his balls. He saw the intent in her eyes and pressed his body against hers, thighs to chest. Trapping her. Containing her. "Go ahead, Raine. Take me down."
She stared at him, her green eyes sharp as glass, the gold flecks in them hard as knives. Her breasts flattened against his chest, and her nipples were hard points against him. Desire slammed into him, and his cock sprang to life. He didn't move. If he did, he'd have her on the floor. He'd be inside her. And then he would be moving.
A delicate flush stippled her chest, dipped into the vee of her blouse. He stared at the evidence of her arousal for a long moment, then raised his eyes to hers. "The police went to Northrup's house. You know what he told them?" He pressed her more tightly against the metal door of the refrigerator, and his cock got even harder. "He said you were visiting. That he was walking you to your car and you were both laughing. You lost your balance and fell against the car. All fun and games."
Her eyes were huge, her pupils dilated. An overwhelming, urgent wave of desire tightened every muscle in his body. Christ! He might be pissed off, but his body recognized hers. Wanted what they'd had in front of Northrup's house. And because wanting her pissed him off even more, he ground into her.
She moaned, a tiny noise from the back of her throat that shot straight to his cock. Her hips jerked in response, and he choked back an answering groan. She was as turned on as he was. Her mouth was slightly open, and her short, hot puffs of breath burned his neck. He wanted to rip off her clothes and fuck her until she screamed. Until they were locked together and he was coming inside her.
Trust Me (The Donovan Family Book 4) Page 12
