by Shandi Boyes
The last half of my question is muffled from me wrapping him up in a firm, manly hug. I love my dad, and I’m man enough to admit it. It’s been far too long since I’ve seen him—far far too long.
“I was talking to your mother; she gave me an update.” His voice is as thick as I remember. Just as stern as well. “Came down to see if I could be of assistance. This mess runs deep. We don’t like the Bureau being smeared with dirt like this.”
My first thoughts go to Josie. Although she’s adamant she didn’t know Theresa’s game plan, she’s taken responsibility for her part in the kerfuffle. It will serve her well. Integrity is a big part of this agency.
I drop back two paces so I can lock my eyes with a pair as equally blue as mine when my dad slaps a black leather wallet into my chest. Although I don’t need to see what is inside to know who owns it, I flick it open all the same.
My heart hammers my ribs when I spot my badge and agent ID peering back at me. “Where did you get this?”
“Same place we got this.” He hands me my government-issued gun. “She wiped the servers of any evidence of her involvement, but we’ve got several agents seeking alternative proof.”
“She? Theresa attacked me?” I sound shocked. I don’t know why. I’ve always said she has balls of steel.
My dad nods. “Jay was training to join technical support. He’ll never have the muscles to lift a man of your size without help.”
I halfheartedly nod in agreement, but still, Theresa. . .fuck. My hearing is still ringing from how badly she clocked me. Clearly, she wants more from Isaac than just child support.
My dad’s eyes scan the room. Although he’d never say anything, I can tell he is shocked by the conditions we are working in.
“We’re waiting on an update on who’ll take Theresa’s place. Once they’re appointed, they can add their own flair to the place.” I laugh. It’s more a tired laugh than playful. “I’m just hoping they’re not stalling because they’re planning to shut our unit down. We’re here for a reason, Dad. I don’t want Theresa’s fuck up ruining that.”
“It won’t,” he assures, his tone confident. “The higher ups know who raised you. They trust your instincts. It’s why I’m here.”
I stare at him, unmoving and unspeaking. What the hell is he talking about?
Thankfully, he is accustomed to my rare stumped states.
With a laugh, he says, “They want you to lead this team. Bring this case to fruition.”
“I can’t—”
The arch of his brow cuts me off, then his stare tells me everything else I need to know. This is why he came here; he knew I’d turn down the promotion the instant they suggested me as Theresa’s replacement.
“If mom updated you, you know why I can’t accept.”
He steps closer to me, ensuring his words are only for my ears. “Is she innocent?”
My spikes hackle just from him asking. “Of course she is. I wouldn’t be with her if she wasn’t.”
“Then I don’t see the problem.”
My heart rate kicks into gear as fast as my fists clench. “The problem is, you haven’t met Regan. She’s stubborn, fierce.” The fucking love of my life.
My dad’s smile reveals he heard the words I didn’t express. “She sounds just like your mother.”
“Precisely. That’s why I can’t do this. You saw what it did to Mom. You nearly lost her. Don’t make me suffer the same fate.”
“Your mother and I have been together for over thirty years.”
“After she nearly died—twice!” I lower my voice, which lowers the number of inquisitive eyes glancing our way. “I’m not you, Dad. I wouldn’t survive seeing Rae go through that.”
He does a good job hiding it, but I see the pain in his eyes when he says, “You think it was easy for me? Those where the hardest years of my life, but lessons were learned, sacrifices were made. We’ll never make the same mistakes again.”
“No, we won’t. Because I won’t let them happen.” My eyes dance between his, which are now wetter than they were when he arrived. “Tell your colleagues I said thank you and that I appreciate the opportunity, but I’m not accepting the position. I’m doing what you should have done for Mom. I’m putting Regan first.”
He’s stiffer when I hug him this time around, but I don’t hold back. Men in our industry lose their lives every day, so I’ll never say goodbye without ensuring he knows what he means to me.
Just before I pull away, he yanks me back. “I’m proud of you, Son.” The crack of his words nearly have me coming undone.
“Right back at ya.” I squeeze him extra tight before pushing off my feet and charging for the door.
The instant I step onto the cracked concrete outside of my office building, the weight I expected to lift from my chest when Theresa was removed from her position finally shifts. My exchange with my dad felt wrong but right at the same time. Wrong because I feel the promise I made to Dane slipping from my grasp. Right because everything I said to my dad was straight-up honest. Regan needs to come first. She comes before anything and anyone.
Even me.
23
Six hours and not a single shred of evidence. I’ve used every resource at my disposal, and I’ve yet to find a single fucking piece of intel on Alex. I’m not talking evidence to convict him for life; I’m talking anything. There are no driver’s licenses, no electric bills. Not a single thing. His apartment isn’t even registered in his name. It is as if he doesn’t exist.
How can I catch a ghost in the act if he’s invisible? It’s impossible!
I slump into my office chair with a groan. I’m exhausted, both physically and mentally. I’m also slightly hormonal. Most of my lie in the washroom earlier today centered around fleeing Alex’s touch before my stupid ass libido could overrule my astute head, but a very small portion of it was true. I’m not PMSing, though. I’m ovulating. I’m one of those weirdo creeps who can tell when her egg is about to shoot out of her ovary because I get a little cranky, a whole lot horny, and a bit more slimy downstairs.
Sorry, I know, too much information. It was just another example of how stupid I’ve been the past week. Even with having the Depo shot, if I notice even one of the three signs I announced earlier, I don’t let a man within two feet of me. 99.9999% is not 100% accuracy, so you can be damn sure I’ll never risk being in the 00.0001% category of women who get pregnant on contraception.
Did that thought enter my mind this morning when Alex and I smeared the sheets with more than just frosting? Yes, it did. Did I listen to the warning alarm sounding in my head? No, I didn’t.
See? What more proof do you need about how stupid I’ve been?
I stop reprimanding myself when the buzz of a doorbell ricochets through my apartment. It could be anyone, but considering it is nearly 11 PM, and I failed to update Isaac on my return to Ravenshoe today, I’m reasonably sure it is the one man I never want to see again. The one I want to hurt as much as he’s hurting me. The one I’d give anything to wake up tomorrow morning and find out this is all a lie.
I hate what this is doing to me. I’m a confident, fierce woman who is letting a man crumble me into half the woman I am. I’m stronger than this, and I will survive this.
With sheer determination guiding my steps, I exit my office, dash down the hall, then climb the three stairs of my foyer. I don’t look in the mirror like I usually do before greeting guests. I know what will reflect back at me, and I’m not willing to let that woeful wallflower waste another minute of my time wallowing in self-pity.
A manly scent smacks into me when I swing open my apartment door. The virile scent scarcely registers on my libido’s radar. It’s struggling to ignore something much more tempting than the scent of an alpha male on the hunt. It’s fighting to contain the lips wrangling her into a submissive, no backbone loser.
Alex is kissing me. Not a little kiss. Not one I’ll forget within the next week or the next year. He’s kissing kissing me. A kiss tha
t makes me forget all kisses before it. A kiss that ensures I’ll never forget him and the impact he’s had on my life. A kiss that breaks my heart even more.
He nips, and he bites, and he holds me captive without a single part of his body touching mine other than his mouth. It is awe-inspiring and devastating at the same time. Is it possible to love and hate somebody at once? If you had asked me last week, I would have laughed and said you’re questioning the wrong person. I’m incapable of love. Now I wish Alex had never re-found my heart. I wish he had left it buried deep in the hole I shoved it in eight years ago—because living without a heart was better than living with a broken one.
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” Alex murmurs over my lips. “Is that corny for me to admit? Does it make me a soft cock to say I’ve been dreaming about your lips, taste, and smell the past seven hours?”
When he steps back, I drop my eyes to his chest. I’m strong, but I’ll never be strong enough to look him in the eyes without feeling like an idiot. The drop in my gaze reveals more travesty. He’s come bearing gifts. He has ice cream, two tubs of Chinese, and a giant slab of milk chocolate.
“I wasn’t sure if you had already eaten, so I grabbed enough for us both.” He enters my apartment like he owns the joint, his steps confident. “We should probably get the ice cream into the freezer before it melts.” His thick beard doesn’t impede his cheeky grin when he mumbles, “It’s probably nothing but slop after that kiss.”
When he hovers closer to me as if he is planning to kiss me again, I point to the kitchen. “Freezer is that way.”
While he unpacks the Chinese, I head to the freezer to place the ice cream inside. It’s weird how well we play house. I guess it shouldn’t be. I did just say “play.”
A suggestion Alex’s mom made to me in jest yesterday smacks into me when I open the freezer to discover a half-empty bottle of vodka inside. “Slip some vodka into his drink. He’d never know. Might loosen him up a little.”
Loose lips do sink ships.
“Are we celebrating anything in particular? Or do you always go all out on Thursday nights?”
Alex stops spooning fried rice onto a plate to lift his eyes to mine. It hurts, but I maintain his eye contact. “There was a development at my work today. The odds swung in my favor.”
I shouldn’t trust the honesty in his eyes, but I do.
“So you’re happy about the outcome?”
He nods. “It’s best for all involved.”
I stupidly move close enough to him, he can band his arm around my waist and tug me into his chest. My heart twists in despair when he presses his lips to my temple.
“Do you remember that whiny two-faced bitch you mentioned earlier?”
“The one from three whole days ago?” The sarcasm in my voice conceals my anger. He really does think I’m a naïve idiot.
Alex laughs, then nods. “Yeah, her. She was transferred to another department today.”
“Oh.” My heart rages out of control. Boom-boom. Boom-boom. It chops up my words when I ask, “Who’s taking her place?”
His balk reveals more than his words. “Ah. . . we don’t know yet. Hopefully someone good.”
He presses his lips to my temple for the second time before he relinquishes me from his grasp so he can return to serving our dinner. The low hang of his head ensures I’m aware I’m not the only one now having a hard time maintaining eye contact.
Two tubs of Chinese, half a container of ice cream, and five spiked drinks later, Alex is looking a little tired. His tipsy state reveals he’ll be more of a touchy-feely drunk than a talkative one. Although I’ve unearthed more about him the past two hours than I did the prior week, I still need more. More alcohol and more talking will equal more time in anger management for me, but it will be worth it. I fucked up, so it’s my job to fix my mistakes, isn’t it?
“We should go out and celebrate your victory. It’s Thursday night. That’s practically the weekend.” I drag him to a standing position. It takes a mammoth effort. My god, I forgot how much muscle weighs. “Let’s go dancing.”
He gags. “Dancing. No. I’m tired. It’s been a long-ass week.”
His slurred words encourage my pursuit. “And I’m full of beans, so we’re going dancing.”
I lug him to the door, barely missing his whine about there being much better ways to burn off energy than dancing. It’s closely followed by a grumble about stupid womanhood ruining his fun.
“Be a good boy by following my lead, and I’ll show you how a period doesn’t necessarily mean no sexy time.”
My waggling brows freeze halfway. For just a nanosecond, I forgot this is a ruse. We’re not going out because I’m buzzing on excited adrenaline. I’m pissed off, annoyed as fuck. I am not looking for excuses to justify his betrayal. I’m seeking a way to destroy him. . . and hopefully find a magic cure to soothe the nicks my heart incurred during the process.
“Careful.” I lean Alex on the back quarter panel of a taxi before handing the driver some bills from my purse.
His eyes flare from my generous tip before they lift to mine. “Are you sure you’re okay getting him inside? These old relics don’t have elevators.”
I groan. It matches the one Alex makes when his stomach threatens to spill for the third time the past ten minutes. In desperation, I took him from feeling the pleasant buzz of alcohol to being rip-roaring drunk in under two hours.
Guzzling vodka as if it is water will do that to anyone, much less a man who hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol in years.
I should have handed him a real bottle of water the instant his words started slurring beyond recognition, but when my vindictive bitch claws are out, I have a hard time reeling them back in.
I shift my eyes back to the driver. “Three flights of stairs, what’s it gonna cost me?”
“Rae. . .” I stop tiptoeing out of Alex’s room when he murmurs, “Stay with me.”
I shake my head. “I can’t.”
I’m not being mean; I truly can’t. The guilt on my chest feels like an elephant is sitting on me, trapping me as desperately as Alex’s deceit blindsided me. This is the reason revenge never works, because neither party feels good once all is said and done. Luca’s death should have taught me that, not the pained groans of a man I hardly know.
“I’ve got stuff to take care of. I’ll see you in the morning. Okay?”
I don’t know why I lie. Perhaps I hope it will ease my guilt enough I won’t smell the alcohol leeching from his pores. It’s suffocating his manly smell as effectively as the vodka drained the color from his cheeks. He looks truly unwell.
“Please, Rae. I don’t feel good.”
No, I guess you wouldn’t since you drank a fifth of vodka in under an hour.
“I can’t—”
“Please, baby.”
His throwaway nickname should annoy me more than it pleases me. Unfortunately, it doesn’t. It reminds me of good times more than bad, and how for a whole week, I thought I was more than just a pretty face.
My lips shake when I begin to speak. “I can only stay a little while. I do have important things I need to take care of.”
Hearing the uneasiness in my voice, Alex lifts his head from the pillow to glance my way. I’m shocked he has the strength to do that. “I understand. Thank you.”
I smile to hide the wobble of my top lip. “You’re welcome. Now scoot over.”
After a deep breath to expel my nerves, I kick off my heels, then slip between the sheets. Bad move. Everything I am losing is now displayed directly in front of me. It hurts. It hurts so fucking bad.
Alex inhales a sharp breath. “Rae, baby, are you crying?”
I shake my head, sending tears flinging off my cheeks. “I’m not crying. You’re just drunk, that’s all.” My quivering voice ruins my campaign.
Vodka fans my lips when Alex laughs. . . or is he groaning? I can’t tell. “I’m not drunk. I don’t drink. I’m just a little unwell.” His glassy eyes bounce betwe
en mine for several seconds before he murmurs, “Perhaps I’m love drunk?”
“Please don’t,” I beg through clenched teeth, consumed by an equal amount of anger and resentment.
I may not know this man, but I’ve studied him enough the past week to know some of his telltale signs. His eyes are blazing with the same ownership they held in the wee hours of this morning when he told me he loved me, and the thickness bracing against my thigh hasn’t been hindered in the slightest by his intoxicated state. He wants to ravish me—both my pussy and my heart.
“We are not going there again.”
Alex scoots down the bed so we come eye to eye. He takes his time assessing my wide eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and downturned lips as if he’s not viewing them through a kaleidoscope.
“That’s it, isn’t it?” he asks a short time later. “What I said to you this morning scared you? That’s why you’ve been distant?”
The pain in his words cuts through me like a knife, but I do a good job of pretending my heart isn’t being torn in two. “No. Don’t be ridiculous. I get it was a heat of the moment thing.” That you were playing the part.
“Playing the part?” Alex asks, clearly confused.
Oh shit, I said that out loud?
I roll my eyes like it’s no big deal. “You know? The act guys play when they want to get in your panties. They’ll say anything if it gets them laid.”
Some of the haze in Alex’s squinted gaze shifts toward anger. “I was already in your panties, so why would I say it if I didn’t mean it?”
I want to say, because you’re playing me for a fool. Instead, I settle on, “You were caught up in a moment. It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean it.”
His fingers flex on my hip, notifying my body of his touch even more readily than the hardness it’s struggling to ignore. It’s now acting as traitorous as my heart.
“I did mean it.”
I shake my head violently. Now I feel as drunk as Alex is.
“I did, Rae. I meant every fucking word. How can you not believe me? I’ve been acting like a lovesick idiot all week.” The slur of his words doesn’t lessen the impact of them. “I get it’s early. I understand it’s scary. But that doesn’t make it any less real.” Tears burn my eyes when he locks his with mine to declare, “I’ll give up everything I have before I give you up. Okay?” He wipes away my tears with the back of his hand before repeating, “Okay?”
