He limped into the room and sat next to her, taking her hand. “You have nothing to fear. You’ve changed, and maybe some of your choices haven’t been the ones I thought you should make, but you’re the most loyal, dedicated, passionate woman I’ve ever met. He’ll recognize that. He’ll recognize you.”
Tears spilled over at his words, which rang with a subtext she had to ignore. She set the phone on the bed and swiped at her face. The last thing she should do tonight was seek comfort—and far more—in Griff’s arms. So she turned the conversation to less emotionally fraught and more practical matters.
She drew a deep breath. “I might kill him. With the electricity thing—it’s still so erratic. Mostly I can control it, but it can still go haywire. What if it fries the stimulator in his brain? How could I live with that?”
He shrugged, his arm rubbing hers and generating an odd quiver inside her.
“You just need to gain complete control.”
She bit out a laugh. “Overnight.”
“What else are you going to do? Sleep?”
This time her laugh was genuine. “Good point.” She inhaled another deep breath, trying to keep her voice from quavering. “I wish there was someone out there who knew how already. It’s taken me a year to come this far, but stir up the emotional juices and I’m still frying things left and right.”
“How many times were your juices stirred as much as they are now?”
“Never.” She could say that without hesitation.
“So let’s go to work.” When she didn’t respond, he nudged her. “Come on. Off your ass. Go turn on the power in your empty room. We’ll practice.”
She frowned, remembering something he’d said back at the bakery, which seemed a lifetime ago. “Wait, don’t you have to be in court tomorrow?”
He gave a grunt she took as a yes.
“No way.” She stood. “You need sleep. I’ll practice on my own.”
“What I need is to be there with you during the surgery.” He caught her hand and looked at her, expression hidden in the shadowy room, but she could still somehow feel the impact of the emotions in his eyes. “There’s no way I can be, so please let me do this for you.”
I love you. The words crowded into her head, borne of gratitude and friendship but heralding the growth of so much more. They burned with frightening intensity and she shoved them down, as deep as she could, and squeezed out a thank-you instead.
“So let’s go.” He heaved himself off the bed and leaned to unplug her bedside lamp. “Go flip the breaker. I’ll meet you in there.”
She did as he instructed, her insides settling as she joined Griff in her safe room. He’d set the unplugged lamp in the center of the hardwood floor and settled near it.
She joined him, keeping a few feet between them. “Okay. Now what?”
“We know you can collect, channel, and direct the flow of electricity. We know you can force it from you in a blast, and you can cause damage with it. Right?”
“Right.”
“You know enough about how those abilities feel so that you can control them under certain circumstances. So let’s try something new. Light the lamp.”
“Like this?” She tilted her head and studied it. Every piece of equipment she’d damaged had been plugged in. Everything she drew electricity from had always been connected to a power source—or it was the power source. She’d never tried to bridge like this before.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, reaching for the electricity. The fine hairs on her body rose.
“Slow and easy,” he crooned. “You’re in charge. Take only what you need, but don’t close the channel.”
Her body buzzed. She opened her eyes and focused on the lamp. Where should she put it, and how? Through the cord? Directly into the socket? She tried the shortest route and pointed at the bulb, pretending the stream was like air being slowly released from a balloon. Tightly channeled, just as when she’d put out the cameras in the Alpine house. The bulb started to glow.
Then it shattered.
Griff must have realized it was going to happen a second before it did. Despite his injured knee, he flung himself across the floor, knocking her flat and out of the way of the flying glass. He landed sprawled on top of her, chest to chest, one leg between hers. They could hardly touch more completely.
She stared up at him, breathless. His mouth was inches from hers, his body hot and hard. Without thinking, she bent her leg to cradle him more fully. He went still for a second, then ran his fingers through her hair. Shards tinkled as they hit the floor.
“Are you okay?” He leaned back to check her face and stroke his hand down her neck. When he gently touched her ear, she shivered.
“Yes,” she managed with a rasp. “You?” She knew his chest had to be fine, because it hadn’t been facing the exploding lightbulb, but she couldn’t move her hands away from the solid curve of his pecs.
And damn, he still smelled good. Hunger growled up into her throat, almost audible. His head dipped closer and his eyelids drifted down. The hand that had been checking for injuries slipped under the nape of her neck, his fingers tightening. Her chin came up, the action arching her body the tiniest bit. Even that slight pressure was delicious. She braced, internally begging for the kiss that had to be coming.
But he sighed and rolled to the side. “False start,” he said. “Ten-yard penalty.”
She laughed and shoved at him, pretending she didn’t want to wrap her arms around his shoulders and pull him back down over her.
They slid away from each other, vociferously avoiding eye contact though she couldn’t be more aware of every move he made.
He finished dusting himself off and cleared his throat. “Now we know that’s not the best way. What do you want to try next?”
“Cleaning up my mess. Talk to me while I sweep. No, stay,” she ordered when he moved to get up. She needed a few seconds out of his sight while she got a new bulb and a broom and dustpan from the hall closet.
More collected, she returned and said, “Tell me about tomorrow’s case.”
He talked, his voice a soothing rumble while he gingerly replaced the bulb and she swept up the shattered glass. Tension eased until they interacted comfortably again.
“Have you ever tried direct contact?” he asked. “Following the current’s normal path?”
“Sometimes. Only to short things out, though.” Such as the security systems she’d blown.
“Try now, with the lamp.”
She reached for the plug, then went through the whole collection/streaming process again. This time, it all went smoothly as she drew the electricity and immediately channeled it into the cord. The bulb flashed on and glowed at a continuous rate.
“Hey!” She grinned, losing concentration, and the bulb dimmed. She pushed a bit more into the cord and it lit steadily. “It’s working!”
He grinned at her. “See? You just need to learn everything you can about your abilities and limitations. That’s how you gain control. Let’s run some other tests.”
They worked for hours. Powering different items and appliances off and on, alone and together, helped her strengthen her ability to focus. After a while, she could turn things on and off at will, maintaining multiple channels at the same time. Even tired, worried about the surgery, and flustered over Griff’s tackle, she didn’t misfire once, and when she wanted to, she shut it all off, leaving herself empty and normal.
That was bliss. She reveled in it, stretched out on the floor in an oasis of nothingness, though she was still aware of the excess energy in the room. It slowly dissipated, as if, unable to enter her body, it retreated to its source. She sighed, content in a way she hadn’t been in a long time.
She turned her head and smiled at Griff where he sat against the wall on the far side of the room, eyes closed.
“Griff?”
“Hmm?” He blinked sleepy eyes at her. The late hour, the quiet solitude, and the desire she’d tried to bank for days
almost overwhelmed her. She wished she could crawl across the floor into his lap, and show him everything she was feeling right now.
But she managed to keep it to a simple, “Thank you.”
His mouth curved, eyes drifting closed again. “Anything. I mean, anytime.”
She rolled to her feet and went over to help him up. “Come on. You can still get a couple of hours of sleep before you have to leave for court.” She gripped his wrist and heaved until he was upright, albeit swaying.
She bit her lip. “I’m worried about you driving.”
His gaze flicked to her mouth, then away. He gently gripped her upper arms and set her back before hobbling to the doorway. “I’ll take an energy shot and be fine. I can crash tomorrow night.” He cracked a yawn with a “night” buried in the middle of it, waved at her, and disappeared down the hall.
But she couldn’t even think about going to bed. Her mind raced with everything she had to deal with. Sarah would have to open the bakery again. The woman’s obvious glee when Reese had checked on her yesterday told her she wouldn’t mind, but there was no way to call her now. She sent her a text message and hoped she got it in time.
But the bakery had become the least of her worries. Brian’s surgery meant she couldn’t go to Chelsea immediately, but with the raid, she knew she couldn’t wait too long. Her only leads—Skav and the boat—would disappear.
Griff wouldn’t want her to go, and she hoped desperately that he didn’t get a chance to say so. She didn’t want to have that fight. Not now.
Everything had changed in the past few days in ways that terrified her. He was the only friend she had, the only person in the world she could trust. Losing that would devastate her.
Being independent, of taking care of Brian, being in charge of her own life—it was all a façade. Inside, she was one big coward. Maybe she wasn’t after Big K for justice or closure or to protect herself from being blamed for the plane crash. Maybe she was after him because creating this quest also created or maintained human connections. Gave her a reason to hold on to Brian, despite his transgressions, and to keep Griffin close to her, as more than just a paid investigator.
She had to douse the ever-growing desire he’d ignited, make sure she kept things purely professional from now on. As much as she hated that he had to leave, the trial was well timed.
Sighing, she padded out to the kitchen for a glass of water. She was still wide awake despite the non-stop activity, and she carried her glass to the living room window to watch the sky that had gained a hint of pink just above the treetops. She watched it darken to a redder shade, then the sky above as it grew lighter and lighter blue. The yard and street were still dark, and suddenly it wasn’t enough to watch from inside, through the glass. She wanted to experience the sunrise.
After draining the water and leaving the glass on the end table, she grabbed a throw off the back of the couch and wrapped it around her shoulders, stepped onto the porch, and sank onto the top step. The air was perfectly still, the whole world waiting. The edge where land met sky blazed gold-red, a long line of shimmering light. A breeze blew through the yard, and it was like a signal to the world. Birds began to chirp and cry and sing. Down the street a car started, the engine fading a moment later as it drove in the opposite direction.
And in the burst of dawn that landed on her peaceful moment, Reese spotted Andrew’s squad car parked at the curb across the street.
Her heart slammed to a halt when she saw it, then resumed with a mariachi beat. Andrew had obviously been watching her, because as soon as she spotted him his door creaked open, he slowly climbed out, and the thunk of it closing echoed in the quiet morning. He strode across the street and up her walk.
“Morning, Chief,” she said when he didn’t speak. He just stood at the bottom of the steps, one hand resting on his gun, the other thumb tucked into his belt. The khaki uniform hat shadowed his face, so she couldn’t see his expression at all.
“You’re up early,” he finally observed. “But not at the bakery.”
“No.” She didn’t elaborate.
“You weren’t there yesterday, either.”
She had no idea why he cared, but held her tongue. This clearly wasn’t a social call. His tone was too flat, too controlled, and his emotions too strong underneath it.
“There was a raid last night.”
Shit. “A raid?” she asked, because he seemed to expect her to.
“In The Charms.”
She pretended she had no idea what he was talking about so she could sound like she had no idea what he was talking about. “What kind of raid?”
“FBI.” That wasn’t what she meant, but didn’t say so. He continued, “Prostitution ring. Apparently some girls are missing. Kidnapping and murder charges are part of it.”
She didn’t need to pretend her dismay. It was even worse than she’d thought. “Why are you telling me this?”
“You run up in The Charms a lot.”
“But I never saw anything like that!” She sounded normal. She thought. “If they raided, didn’t they get them? They don’t need witnesses or something, do they?”
Andrew didn’t answer the questions. “Where were you last night?”
She swallowed hard. “Why? You think I’m a prostitute?” She tried to inject a note of affronted incredulity, and it worked.
His shoulders dropped a fraction, and his hand left his gun. He set one foot up two steps and leaned forward onto his knee, bracing his forearms across it. The move brought him closer to her, and the entire mood of the conversation shifted.
“I think you have secrets,” he admitted, but not in a way that demanded she reveal them. She’d never felt less like confiding.
“Everyone has secrets. But it doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”
He tilted his face up so light from inside the house made his features more clear. The sun was up, now, but peering mostly through trees, so he wasn’t in complete silhouette.
“It always matters, Reese. To a cop.”
She swallowed, afraid fighting not to fidget was making her too still. She’d meant secrets of the type people shared slowly as a relationship grew, but his words told her he didn’t think hers were that kind of secret.
“That man you were with at the hospital. Electric burns, right?”
She didn’t ask how he knew that. Privacy laws meant the hospital staff couldn’t tell him anything about their patients, but maybe he’d overheard the nurse’s questions. Or someone had mentioned the odd case to him and he’d put it together logically.
She didn’t answer him.
“If you’re in trouble, tell me. I can help.”
Her laugh came out bitter. “I’m not in trouble. I have troubles. But they’re not the legal kind. You can’t help me.” That would probably spark his curiosity, so she added, “Brian’s having experimental brain surgery in the morning”
“I see.” Andrew’s posture relaxed. “I hope it goes well.”
“Thank you.” The blanket slipped off her shoulders, and she opened her arms to pull it back up. Andrew’s gaze fell to her chest, and he leaned forward again, reaching out with two fingers to lift the necklace from her chest.
“I know this piece. What it means.” For an instant, disappointment and jealousy flashed in his eyes. He morphed back into the chief of police so quickly she might have imagined the moment he was just a man.
“You do?” She wrapped her hand around the chain, which tugged the charms off his fingers.
“The artist is a friend of my mother’s.”
“I love it,” she whispered, more to herself than to him. “It reminds me of who I want to be.”
They stared at each other for several heartbeats before Andrew finally pulled his foot down from the step and stood straight and relaxed, but not easy, on the walkway. He didn’t speak again, but he left her with one echoing thought.
Who she wanted to be was a far cry from who anyone thought she was.
…
> Reese stayed outside for a while after Andrew left. Fatigue was now bearing down on her, and she let it come, sinking into her bones, until she thought maybe she could sleep for an hour or two before she had to be at the hospital. But going into the house traded one kind of tension for another. Griff was stretched out on the couch, waiting for her. His duffel sat on the cushion next to him.
“Intimate chat you were having,” he observed. “I thought you cut him loose.”
She folded the blanket, avoiding his eyes. She couldn’t detect his feelings in his tone, and wasn’t sure she wanted to see them instead. “He wasn’t here for that. I think he knows I was there last night. At the house.”
Griff stood so fast she looked down at his knee, expecting it to appear completely normal, but his jeans hid it from her view. “He came to arrest you?”
“No!” She rolled her eyes. “He just asked some questions. He doesn’t have any evidence, just suspicions.” She hoped.
“Good.” He tapped his hand against his thigh. “You get any sleep?”
“Not yet.” She could tell he was distracted by whatever he really wanted to say, because instead of scolding her, he just nodded. “You?” she asked.
“Enough.” He glanced down at his duffel. “I was hoping court would be delayed so I can go with you this morning, but for once, they’re on schedule.”
“No problem. Good luck with it. And thank you for everything.” She moved as if to walk him to the door, but he remained planted in the middle of the living room.
“Don’t go to Chelsea.” He held up a hand when she automatically began to protest. “I’m asking, not telling. I’d rather you wait until I can be here to back you up.”
She shook her head. “You know I can’t wait. Aside from the fact that the raid might make him hide so deep I’ll never find him, I can’t let you do that. You’ve been involved too much already, risked too much. I can take it from here.”
Worry lines deepened around his mouth. “You’re not equipped for that. You have no idea what these people are capable of.”
A Kiss of Revenge (Entangled Ignite) Page 14
