“Maybe I’d be in Jonas’s arms having this same discussion about you!” she interrupted. “Did you ever think of that? Maybe I’d be trying to convince him that I couldn’t hurt you, Nash, that I couldn’t betray you.”
“I wouldn’t give him the opportunity!”
She shook her head. “There’s no use trying to think about what-ifs. What’s done is done, and I’m with Jonas now. I love him. This can’t happen again.”
He let go of her and stepped back, running his hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. “You say you love him.”
“I do.”
“But you love me, too.”
“No.”
“Yes. I get under your skin, don’t I? You dream about me at night.”
“Lust. And I lament my temptation to it.”
“No, sweetheart, it’s not just lust. Because it’s not just lust I feel for you.”
“I don’t care what you feel!”
“I never thought you were a coward, Charlotte.”
She turned her back to rehook her bra and button her shirt. When she was done, she turned back to look at him, noticing he’d magically found his own shirt. “Of course I’m a coward. I walked away from my own murder, didn’t I? Why wouldn’t I walk away from you?”
“Because I won’t let you.”
He reached around her to open her car door, and she slid in gratefully, but nothing could quiet the excitement she felt at his nearness, and she was half-afraid his determination would wear down her walls. She suddenly knew how Jericho felt and hoped she wouldn’t go tumbling down.
* * * *
As soon as they reached the hotel, Charlotte all but jumped from the car, anxious to leave Nash and his disturbing words behind. She didn’t even slow down as she hurried through the lobby and into the staircase, not wanting to wait for the elevator. She ran up to the second floor and pulled her keycard out to enter her and Jonas’s room.
He sat at the small table near the window, her tablet in his hands. As their eyes met, he laid the tablet down and rose. She met him halfway, rising on her tiptoes and burying her hands in his dark hair to pull his head down. She kissed him with all the pent-up anger and desire Nash had left her with.
Her hands moved to his shirt, unbuttoning it quickly. She yanked it from his pants and half down his arms, and as she began unbuckling his pants he managed to grab her arms.
“Wait! Charlotte, hold on.”
She shook her head. “No, I want you to put a condom on right now. I want you to take me, hard, until I explode.”
He broke away from her and straightened his shirt. She stared at him, breathing heavy.
“What happened with Nash?” he asked.
“We don’t need to talk about him.”
He gestured to his disheveled state. “I think we do.”
“Why? It has no bearing on what I feel about you.”
“I’m not blind, Charlotte! Every time you’re near him I can see you fighting the attraction. And tonight…I can smell sex on you.”
“He still doesn’t know me like that!”
“Good to know, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”
She blew out her breath angrily. “Believe me, you don’t want to hear this, Jonas.”
“Tell me, Charlotte,” he demanded.
Her hands fisted by her sides. “My dear, sweet sister decided to set us up. And when I met Nash McKnight, I thought I had found The One. I fell hard, and I thought I could trust him. But after our first date he completely changed, did a one-eighty into someone I didn’t know. He was a complete ass, and two weeks later he left Santa Fe.”
Jonas stared at her, his chocolate-dark eyes orbs of sympathy. “He broke your heart.”
“Yes.”
“Do you know why?”
She was silent for a moment. She so didn’t want to go into this conversation.
“Charlotte, do you know why he left you?”
“He told me tonight. His ex-girlfriend…did something harsh. If you want to know specifics you’ll have to talk to him.”
“And you forgive him?”
Slowly she nodded.
“Do you want to be with him?”
Tears welled in her eyes. “I’m with you, Jonas.”
He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “You didn’t answer my question. But maybe that is my answer.”
He bent and kissed her on the top of her head before grabbing his wallet and phone. He walked to the door and, without looking back at her, opened it and left. Tears slid down her cheek.
* * * *
Jonas gave one forceful knock on Nash’s door, the anger churning inside him like a category five tornado. He was so angry that he couldn’t even feel the throb of his shoulder, which had just started to ease up considerably. He heard the other man, knew Nash would be checking the peephole, and he tried to blankly smooth out his expression. But he didn’t waste any time once Nash opened the door. He brought his left fist back and let it fly.
Jonas felt the satisfying smash of lip against teeth.
Nash flew back, landing hard on his ass. Jonas stormed into the room, ready to deliver another bone-jarring hit when Nash’s hand flew out to stave him off.
“How dare you?” Jonas fumed. “How fucking dare you?” He took another step forward. “Get up.”
“Not on your life,” Nash muttered as he wiped the blood from his mouth.
“I asked you to take care of her, not to fucking seduce her, you shit!”
“Oh, like you wouldn’t have done the same.”
“I wouldn’t!”
“Bullshit. I know you, Daire. You’re just like me. You love her. You want her. If our roles were reversed, you wouldn’t let a little thing like I’m her boyfriend interfere with your desires.”
“Of course I would. I fucking respected you!”
Nash sighed and held both hands up. “I’m going to stand now. No hitting.”
“Be grateful I’m not beating you to a bloody pulp.”
But he backed up, allowing Nash to stand. His mouth had stopped bleeding, but the lip had puffed out twice its normal size. “I need ice.”
“You need to get the hell away from her.”
Nash shook his head. “No can do, and if you were in my shoes, you’d be saying the same thing.”
“This isn’t about who came first, McKnight. You had your chance.” He gave Nash a little shove. “Charlotte belongs with me.”
Nash glared at him. “Oh ya? Then explain to me why she went up like fire in my arms tonight. Why did she kiss me back? Why did she gasp and moan my name—”
Jonas grabbed his collar with his left hand.
“Don’t, Jonas. I don’t want to bust up your other arm.”
“Like you give a fuck,” Jonas all but snarled, and he shoved Nash backward. The two went down in a heap. Fists went flying, knees met stomachs, and the sound of grunts filled the air. Nash might have had more brawn on Jonas, but even he couldn’t contain the raw fury making Jonas see red.
Nash sent a fist into Jonas’s cheek. Jonas retaliated with an uppercut.
“I don’t want to fight you, Jonas,” Nash huffed. “Leave it alone.”
“Too fucking bad!”
Nash ducked another swing and swung his fist into Jonas’s side.
“Uf!” Jonas managed as he fell back, hitting the television and knocking it off the dresser. It fell to the floor with a terrible crash. “I asked you to watch over her!”
“I did,” Nash answered. He wasn’t quick enough as Jonas charged, head-butting him in his midsection. All his breath left in a whoosh. He brought his elbow up and slammed it down between Jonas’s shoulder blades.
“This is over, Jonas!” Nash yelled, and he turned his back, opening the door to leave the room. Jonas pushed himself up and charged. Nash fell onto his stomach at first, but he rolled just as Jonas landed on top of him, straddling him and bringing his fist back for another punch. A gasp had him pausing, and he looked up, locking ey
es with Melody who stared at him with a rounded, startled gaze.
“I don’t think you should hit him,” she said then added as an afterthought, “Anymore, that is.”
In an instant, Jonas deflated. His anger fled. He lowered his left arm, and Nash pushed him off. They lay side by side, staring up at the popcorn-textured ceiling, both huffing from their battle and wincing as the bruises suddenly flared to life.
“You wanna get a drink?” Nash managed to ask in between gulps of air.
“Sure,” Jonas replied, equally winded. “Ow.”
* * * *
“I’ve messed things up, Holly,” she whispered, her throat threatening to close.
“What do you mean? I thought you found the bodies of three murdered girls.”
“No, not that.”
“Then what? Are you okay, Lottie? You sound really odd.”
“Nash told me why he was a jerk.”
She heard Holly suck in a sharp breath. “And?”
“It’s personal but…sad.”
“So you forgive him?”
“I, ah, I suppose. I understand him, or at least I think I understand him. He’s complicated, Holly.”
“All men are complicated, honey.”
“Even Al?”
“Especially Alastair. I never told you, but he had a fiancée before we got together.”
“What? I never knew that.”
“She died. And for a long time he refused to let anyone close to him.”
“Until you.”
“Well, he certainly didn’t trust me in the beginning. But I grew on him.”
“Yeah. Like a fungus.”
Silence. In fact, Charlotte could hear Holly’s teeth grinding together through the connection.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly to Holly’s continued silence. “I’m just hiding behind sarcasm right now because I have nothing left.”
“That bad?”
“I…I’ve grown fond of…both of them. Jonas and Nash.”
“Oh,” Holly said, and there was a hint of surprise and yet a wealth of understanding in that one word.
Charlotte felt the need to clarify. “Jonas is caring, steadfast, sexy as sin. Nash is strong, direct, sexy as sin. Both make me feel…cherished…but in completely different ways. Holly, how can I hurt either of them?”
“How could you hurt them?”
“Come on, Holly. Two men? I can’t choose one over the other. It’s like choosing which leg to cut off.”
“Only you would equate love with limb dismemberment.”
Charlotte sighed, not even able to raise her spirit enough to quip back. A knock sounded loudly through the room, and Charlotte jumped.
“Someone’s at the door,” she said to Holly. “Maybe it’s Jonas. Or Nash. Or both. Oh, god!”
“Call me tomorrow?”
“Sure. Later, gator.”
“After while, crocodile.”
Charlotte clicked the call off and headed for the door. Without looking through the peephole, she unbolted the door and threw it open. The sheriff’s deputy stood in her doorway, his polished star twinkling in the overhead light.
“You’re not Jonas or Nash,” she said lamely.
“Sheriff Ratcliff would like to have a word,” the deputy reported, his stance and face about as impassive as a statue.
She looked him over. “Do I have a choice?”
He shook his head.
Chapter Fourteen
The big, stoic deputy led her through the small precinct. She thought his name was Bruce and wondered if that was his first or last name. He hadn’t said one word to her the entire ride over, just kept glancing at her in the rearview mirror, as if she was going to somehow disappear from the backseat. It annoyed the crap out of her. Of course, just going to meet Sheriff Ratface after the night she’d had so far really set the whole mood.
Then again, calling the small building that housed the entire Rock Ridge police force a precinct was stretching things a bit. The whole place looked like one of those permanent trailer houses that were popular back in the seventies, with brown paneling everywhere and Formica tabletops. The air-conditioning had a high-pitched squeal that rattled the air vent over the door.
Why there an air vent over the door made no sense, but so far Rock Ridge had kept her on her toes, especially since she felt a pull as soon as she stepped over the threshold. It hadn’t been there during her first visit.
“There,” the deputy said with a gesture to the Sheriff’s office.
“Yeah, I remember.” She left tall, dark, and monosyllabic behind as she opened the door without knocking. Even as she moved forward into the room, the pull punched her in the gut, and ice chilled her bones. She immediately focused on the desk. She desperately wanted to tear through it and find the item wanting to be found, but her efforts were currently blocked by the glaring sheriff sitting behind it.
“Thanks for knocking, Miss Perth,” he said, sarcasm heavy in his tone.
She shrugged. “Once I thought it might be nice to give a jackass a bath, and then I figured eh, why bother?”
His mouth thinned. “Have a seat.”
She didn’t want to comply, but sitting brought her closer to the desk, closer to the object that tugged at her like a little child looking for a treat. So she sat and tried not to fidget like mad as the pull grew even more strongly.
“What do you think you were doing tonight?”
“You’ll have to be a little more specific. I had a fight with my boyfriend, and then I got dragged down here when I should be getting some beauty rest, and on top of that I think I’m PMSing.”
In a sudden flash of furious movement, he jumped to his feet as his hand shot out and slammed down on his desk. Charlotte jumped.
“Don’t play your fucking head games with me, you got that? Or I’ll lock you up for impeding an investigation and pissing me off. I can hold you for twenty-four hours, missy, and don’t think I won’t.”
“Have you brought me here in the middle of the night to accuse me of being the murderer…again?”
“How did you do it?” he yelled.
“I channeled their energy!” she yelled back. “The girls led me to their graves!”
“Not them,” he huffed. “The club tonight. How did you get it shut down?”
That surprised her. She sat back and cocked her head. “That’s what this is about? How do you know about the club? Are you a patron?”
The sheriff gave a bitter snort. “Not hardly. I know Cecelia Duwhite, and let’s say she’s not the type of woman who’ll let sleeping dogs lie.”
“What does that mean?”
He sighed, and to her ears it sounded very tired. “I’ve know about that sick den for some time, but trying to shut down the mayor’s favorite entertainment was like trying to pull teeth. And then you go prancing in for god knows what reason, and suddenly the Feds are all over it like flies on shit.”
Charlotte’s head started to spin, and she held up her hands. “Wait a minute. You’re saying that you knew about...I see. You bastard. From the beginning you knew those girls didn’t run away.”
“When Candace came in here ranting about Janie disappearing in Cecelia’s club, I knew everything was escalating.”
“Escalating?”
He nodded. “When the bodies were found, all my worst fears came alive.”
“Because?”
“Because my nephew works there.”
“Your nephew? Wait, you think your nephew had something to do the girls’ death?”
“Yes, Miss Perth, I do.”
Charlotte began to get a bad feeling, worse than the pull that was still tugging impatiently for attention. Her focus shifted, and suddenly she really wished she hadn’t pissed him off. Who the hell knew she’d come here?
No one, except Bruce. Crap.
“So what did you do to shut Cecelia down? More of your magic tricks?”
“I think I want to go back to the hotel now,” she whispered.
Her heart jumped into her throat as she tried to figure out what to do. How fast would he be if she pulled out her phone and called for help?
“At least not without police protection,” he finished.
She was so jacked up on adrenaline that it took a moment for the words to settle into her brain.
“Excuse me?”
“Cecelia is the type of woman who’ll want revenge,” he stated. “It’s my duty as sheriff to make sure you’re well protected.”
Charlotte blinked. “Do you not remember my boyfriend? The homicide detective?”
“The one who was shot? Yes, I remember the sling very well.”
“And my sister hired an HS agent to watch out for me,” she reminded him. “Believe me, I’m well protected.”
He stared at her, and she stared back, waiting. His excuse for bringing her seemed lame. Except if he wanted to test her.
She decided to call him out.
“There’s a little black book that has everything written down. So if it turns out your nephew is involved, what are you going to about it?”
“I was elected to protect and serve the citizens of Rock Ridge,” he stated quietly.
“That doesn’t really answer my question, now does it? Listen, just hand over whatever you have in your desk that belongs to those girls and then let me go.”
“How do you know I have anything?”
“Because I’m clairvoyant! I can feel the pull, Sheriff, so just hand it over, and then good ole Bruce can take me back, safely, to the hotel.”
He narrowed his eyes, studying her, and she felt a like a bug under a microscope. Then, slowly, he opened a side drawer and removed a pouch. He laid it in front of her. Charlotte had to restrain herself from snatching it up and calling it My Precious.
Sheriff Ratcliff gestured to his deputy. When the large man appeared in the doorway, he nodded to Charlotte. “Please take Miss Perth back to her hotel.”
Charlotte felt Bruce’s eyeballs practically bore through her, so she picked up the pouch and dropped it into her purse before walking out the door.
Hereafter [McKnight, Perth & Daire 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 11
