A Man Like Him

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A Man Like Him Page 17

by Rachel Brimble


  Angela’s brow furrowed and her eyes turned from panicked to sad. “I don’t want you or the situation. You’re making everything worse. You’re making this harder for me than it already is.”

  “How can you say that? You can’t deal with a guy like Masters on your own.”

  She shook her head. “I have to. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t say that. You have nothing to be sorry for.” He stared at her, planted his hands on his hips. “You’re not the one in the wrong here. Masters is. He’s the bastard throwing his weight—”

  Cat stepped between them and curled her fingers around his upper arm. “Chris? A word?” She glared, her green eyes dark with fury.

  She tugged on his arm and Chris stiffened. He continued to glare at Angela over the top of his sister’s head. He was out of order but was unable to stem the angry heat running through his blood. He couldn’t leave her knowing Masters was in the Cove. Why didn’t Angela or Cat understand that?

  “Anything you want to say to me, you might as well say in front of Angela. She seems to know what’s best right now and to hell with what I want.”

  “You’re not helping.” Cat yanked on his arm.

  Angela stared straight back at him. Their eyes locked in silent battle. Her cheeks were pink and her gorgeous dark eyes glistened beneath the overhead light.

  After a few seconds, she looked to a spot over his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  “Why do you keep saying sorry? What have you got to be sorry about? You’ve done nothing to me or anyone else. Don’t give that son of a bitch this much power. Can’t you see what he’s doing?”

  “Okay, that’s enough.” Cat splayed her hands on his chest and pushed him backward. “We’re having a chat. Now.”

  With a final glance at Angela, Chris cursed and strode into her kitchen. He turned his back to the living room and Cat and faced the wall. He gripped the counter. “What do you want me to say? Do you want me to say I’ll go back to Reading? Forget this is happening? Forget her?”

  “Chris, look at me.” His sister’s voice was quiet.

  He squeezed his eyes shut and slowly counted to five before opening them and turning around.

  Cat stood in front of him, her butt against the opposite counter in the narrow kitchen. “What’s going on with you?”

  “With me?”

  “Yes. You’re in real danger of losing your head and I want to know why.”

  Chris scowled as the fear of failure skittered up his spine. “Nothing.”

  “Crap. I’ve never seen you like this. Is it Melinda?”

  “What?”

  Cat crossed her arms. “Is it Melinda? Has she contacted you?”

  “No.”

  “Does that bother you? Is that why you’re trying to start something so intense with Angela?”

  The possibility of what she suggested whirled around inside him. Was that what this was about? Was this need to be around Angela, to have her need him, all about him and nothing to do with her? “I care about her.”

  Cat huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, and I kind of like my husband. Don’t talk crap, Chris. This is way past like. You’re into something you don’t even seem to understand. God, I’d be over the moon for you if I thought this thing you have for her had a future, but it doesn’t. The woman is fighting for her life. She doesn’t need you on her case, as well. You have to walk away.”

  Chris stared and drew his lips tightly closed as his heart beat painfully against his chest.

  Cat sighed and flashed him a soft smile. “She’s lovely. I don’t blame you for wanting her.” She grimaced. “But the timing stinks. She’s thigh-high in trouble, and you being with her is making that trouble more potent. I love that you want to do something for her. I love that you’re becoming that guy, but now is not the right time.”

  Frustration pulsed in his temple. “I’m not going home.”

  “Then don’t. I can’t make you, but I can make you stay away from her.”

  He flashed a wry smile. “What are you going to do? Arrest me?”

  She straightened. “Don’t tempt me.”

  “Nice try. Even I know it has to be on Angela’s orders that I stay away from her, not yours.”

  He looked toward the living room. Angela sat on the sofa, her face turned toward the French doors at the far end of the room. God, what he wouldn’t give to know what was going through her mind right then. Maybe Cat was right. Maybe Angela truly didn’t want him there.

  He faced his sister. “I’ll leave her alone....”

  Cat blew out a relieved breath. “Good.”

  “When I hear it from her.” He pushed away from the counter and strode back into the living room, ignoring Cat’s vulgar expletive.

  He sat next to Angela on the couch and took her limp hand. She stiffened but didn’t pull away. She faced him and regret shone in her eyes rather than the anger he expected.

  He tightened his fingers around hers. “Just say the word and I’ll stay here and look after you.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t need looking after. Find someone else, Chris. I have to do this on my own. I want to do this on my own.” Her voice was firm, steady. She looked past him to where he knew Cat waited. “I’d like to take the option of a female officer staying with me.”

  Cat coughed. “No problem. I’ll get straight on to it.”

  Angela faced him once more. No matter the strength of her voice, fear still showed in the dark depths of her eyes. “You need to leave.”

  Chris shook his head and resisted the urge to brush a kiss across her lips. “I’m not going to fight you on this. I’m not going to pressure you when you’ve already put up with enough of that from your ex-husband to last a lifetime. I like you. Hell, I think we might have something special here, but I won’t be where I’m not wanted.”

  She looked at their joined hands. “We’re too different. You’re a good man who wants to help me. I’m a tainted woman who wants to help herself.” She met his eyes. “It would never work.”

  “A tainted woman? Why would you say that? You are no more tainted than the rest of us.”

  “You don’t know everything. I don’t want you to know everything.” She pushed to her feet, her face pale and her eyes blank and devoid of emotion. “Please, go.”

  “Is this about what he did to you?”

  “Chris, please.”

  He lifted his finger and gently traced the scar on her cheek. “Is it about this?”

  She closed her eyes. “Yes. And more. I can’t...” She opened her eyes. “I just can’t. He lies. He cheats. He says one thing and does another. You have no idea what it is to live with someone like that. Worse, you have no idea what it’s like when you’re their only focus.”

  “Then I’ll learn. I want to be with you.”

  She cupped a hand to his jaw for a moment and then whipped her hand back into her lap. “No. I want you to go.”

  Anger burned like an inferno behind his rib cage. Chris stared at her, the words he wanted to say, the questions he wanted to ask whirling inside his mind. Did pestering her make him any better than Masters? Did wanting what he couldn’t have make him a better man? No. It damn well didn’t.

  He pushed to his feet. “Angela—”

  “What Robert did to me changed me forever.” She stared up at him. “I’ll never be a woman who needs a man in her life. I’ll never be a woman looking for someone to look after me. I like being alone. I like looking after myself and I like having the freedom to do what I want, when I want.”

  The need to touch her hurtled through his blood and without thinking, Chris leaned down and put his hands on her knees. He stared straight into those beautiful eyes, his heart pounding. “I would never take your freedom. Why would you even think—”

  “Maybe
not at first, but eventually you won’t want me to go somewhere because you’ll want me to do something with you instead. Or you wouldn’t like the dress I wore or the food I wanted to try in a restaurant—”

  “I’m not him, Angela. Please, look at me and see me. Only me.”

  Her eyes filled with tears and Chris’s heart ached. She shook her head. “I don’t want you. I never will. Find a woman who isn’t like me...for your own sake.”

  “I don’t want a woman who isn’t like you. I like you just the way you are.”

  “Then you’re a fool.” Her body turned rigid.

  Sadness mixed with helplessness and Chris raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. I’ll go.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and straightened. “When you need me, come find me, because I won’t come by again unless you ask. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  The skin at her throat shifted. “Yes.”

  He hesitated, his heart yearning for more than this beautiful, strong and scared woman was prepared to give him. Her pain came through when he touched her, her sadness hit him when he smelled her. Masters would pay for what he’d done. Truly, truly pay.

  Turning, Chris strode past Cat, who stood by the door talking into her cell. She reached out and gripped his wrist. “Chris?” She pressed the phone to her chest. “What happened?”

  He stared into her eyes. “I’m leaving. She told me to go. I’m out, Cat. You got your way and Angela got hers.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To get drunk. It was good enough for Mum, it’s good enough for me.”

  She stepped back, her eyes wide as though he’d slapped her. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  “Why not? It’s what everyone expects of me, isn’t it? To mess up. To run away. To not give a shit. Well, guess what? You’re right. I’m going to do all of the above.”

  Chris marched through the door and out into the night, every inch of his body humming with despair.

  * * *

  CHRIS RAISED HIS hand to the bartender for another beer. The alcohol wasn’t hitting his bloodstream with the speed he’d like, but the frustration burning inside him was far too dangerous to risk a whiskey chaser. If there was one thing Chris knew, it was to lay off the hard stuff when he was this damn angry. It would do him no good, and there’d be hell to pay for someone else.

  The bartender put the bottle of beer on the bar and Chris took a pull, his gaze immediately settling on the TV above the bartender’s head.

  Images of Masters leaving the courthouse a few years before filled the screen. The newsreader was reading from the notes in front of her while a banner ran across the bottom of the screen flashing “breaking news” about some politician caught with his pants down. Who gave a rat’s ass about that when someone’s freaking life was in jeopardy? Parasites, the lot of them.

  Chris tightened his jaw. He had to give Cat credit. She’d delivered on her promise to make sure the whole damn town knew that same night Masters was a wanted man. He turned to the bartender.

  “Hey, can you turn that up?”

  “Sure.” The bartender swiped a remote control from a shelf behind him and pointed it at the TV. He frowned. “You got an interest in this guy?” He nodded toward the screen.

  Chris took another drink and smiled, his gaze fixed on Masters. Images showed him in a suit, then another in jogging shorts and a T-shirt replaced it. “Now there’s a question.”

  He sensed the bartender watching him but didn’t turn around. He frowned and strained to hear what the newscaster was telling the world about the man who beat the spirit from Angela Taylor. Who made her scared for her life. Who now prevented her taking steps toward a new one.

  “Robert Masters was released from prison last year after serving three years for the rape and attempted murder of his wife. Now divorced, the police have told us once again Masters is a wanted man. He is believed to be in Templeton Cove, Devon. After recent pictures of his ex-wife were made public in the local press, the police are fearful of Masters’s intentions. It was made clear that a condition of his release would be absolutely no contact with her.”

  A small photograph of Angela smiling at Masters appeared behind the newscaster’s shoulder. Chris squeezed his eyes shut.

  “If any sighting is made of Masters, the public is to immediately call the number running along the bottom of the screen. Please note, Robert Masters is considered dangerous and should not be approached. Moving on...”

  Chris stared blindly at the screen, his mind scrambling with images, words and possibilities.

  “Do you know something? I think I’ve seen that guy.”

  Chris snapped his head up, his focus trained succinctly on the bartender like a dog waiting for a kill. “Which guy?”

  He tilted his head toward the TV. “That Masters guy. It was a while ago now, though.”

  Chris’s stomach knotted with tension. “A while ago?”

  “Yeah, a few days ago. He came in and sat right where you are now. Ordered a burger and fries with a beer. Watched the TV, ate his food and left. Haven’t seen him since.” He shrugged and glanced toward the TV once more. “Weird he’s wanted by the police. I didn’t have a clue the guy was dangerous. If this guy was him, he seemed pretty damn cool to me.”

  “Cool?” Chris tightened his grip around his beer bottle.

  “Yeah, you know. Cool. His clothes were decent. His shirt all ironed and together. His jeans were top brand. Moneyed. That’s what I summed him up to be.”

  Struggling to keep his temper in check, Chris nodded. “You’re sure it was him?”

  He glanced toward the TV. “Sort of. Not a hundred percent, but you know.”

  “A few days ago? After the flood?”

  “Yeah. Couple of days after, I reckon.”

  Chris frowned. Cat had sent people to Masters’s house the day, or evening, after the flood. Masters had been where he was supposed to be. They’d watched the house for another forty-eight hours after, and Masters didn’t leave his hometown. The guy the bartender thought was Masters couldn’t have been him.

  “You should tell the police.” Chris lifted his beer to his lips and watched the bartender. If he balked, he was bullshitting.

  He met Chris’s gaze directly. “You think?”

  “If you’re sure it was him, they need to know.” Chris shrugged. “From what they’re saying on TV, the guy needs to be caught. Doesn’t seem the cops have a clue he’s been here that long. They sounded as though they’re following up a sighting today. If he’s after his ex-wife...”

  “You’re right. I’m not having that on my conscience.” The bartender pulled his cell from his back pocket and called across to another guy at the other end of the bar. “Mike, watch the bar. I’ll be five minutes.”

  The bartender nodded at Chris and walked out through a door at the back. As soon as he was gone, Chris grabbed his own cell and called Cat. “It’s me.”

  “Where are you? I can’t believe you took off like that.”

  “He’s been here since just after the flood.”

  “What?”

  “Masters. It’s possible he came down here the day he saw Angela and me in the papers.”

  “That’s impossible. I had cops outside his place...in his place the same day.”

  “I just had a bartender say he’s pretty certain he served Masters a couple of days ago.”

  “What?”

  “He said he sat at the bar. Cool as can be.”

  “That’s exactly what Masters is. Plus, he’s a handsome son of a bitch, too. He’s the type people would notice.”

  Chris closed his eyes and images of Masters’s smiling face danced behind his closed lids. There was no denying the man’s looks or his charm. A man like that could do anything. Chris pressed his fingers against his forehead.
>
  “What if Masters is playing with you, Cat? What if he’s playing with you and he’s playing with Angela?”

  Silence.

  “Cat?”

  “I’m thinking.”

  “And?”

  “And the only time he would’ve had freedom to get to the Cove and back to his place was Sunday. Two days after the picture of you and Angela was released.”

  “So it’s possible he’s been here already. He could be coming back and forth to Angela’s house and watching her routine. Knows where she is at any given moment. He could be gone again and tucked up in bed leaving you guys none the wiser.” He blew out a breath. “For God’s sake, you guys are doing a shit job of looking after her.”

  “Hey, not helping. Pissing me off is not what you want to do.”

  “But it’s true, isn’t it.” He snapped his eyes open. “There’s every possibility Masters wants Angela to know he can come and go as he pleases. You called the cops away from his house three or four days ago, right?”

  “My hands were tied with that. I cannot order people to sit out there all day, every day when he hasn’t done anything. Things are different now.”

  “The cops are back at his house?”

  “24/7.”

  “Since when?”

  “Since an hour or so ago.”

  “And he’s there?”

  “No.”

  “What?”

  “He’s gone, Chris. I’ve had cops search the house. His car’s still sitting in the driveway, but Masters is gone. We’re doing all we can in Standbridge, and here, to find him. Someone, somewhere, would have seen him.”

  Chris closed his eyes. “I don’t believe this.”

  She sighed. “What if it wasn’t him Angela saw in the restaurant? What if it wasn’t him in the bar?”

  “What? You don’t believe her?”

 

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