by Lane Hart
"Even if I wanted an actual relationship, it's not something I can ever have. So yeah, I make do with…causal relationships, and end things when they want more. I warn them upfront and never lead them on," I say defensively.
"Why can't you have an actual relationship?" she asks.
"I'll cancel my other, um dates, while you're here," I assure her, ignoring her question.
"No, it's your apartment, and you're allowed to…date whoever, whenever. Please don’t let my being here interfere." Her tone sounds mostly genuine, but there's a stiffness to her words, a hint of something underneath. Jealousy? That's just ridiculous. She has a man. An alcoholic, abusive man, but he's still hers. The possible jealousy combined with the look she gave me last night, and the way I can't stop thinking about her naked mean I really need to keep my distance. There's no way we could go there in a million fucking years. She's a victim of one of my cases, I remind myself for the hundredth time. And I…hell, I'm not even human.
"If you're sure it's okay, then I won't cancel," I tell her with a shrug, pulling the biscuits from the oven.
"Good," she replies curtly with an exhale, like it's anything but good.
"So are you hungry?" I ask to change the subject.
"I could eat a little something. Thanks," she says as she heads for the kitchen. As soon as she's standing in the confined space with me, my body instantly reacts. The air seems to grow thicker, making breathing more difficult in the sudden warmth, and all my blood flow heads south toward fully erect.
The woman needs to burn every sweater in her fucking closet. God her body is amazing, not too thin, so she's soft in all the places where a woman should be, instead of bony. Her more than mere handfuls of breasts are overflowing from her thin purple tank top, and I can't help but stare at the two points where her nipples pucker through. The only thing that distracts my gaze is the bruises up her arms, around her throat, and surrounding her left eye. She's thankfully pulled her wet hair back, away from her face instead of hiding behind it, and I finally realize her emerald eyes are on mine. She has to know I'm staring at her in a very inappropriate way, but I'm not sure if saying something will make it better or worse. I decide to go with the truth.
"You should never, ever wear sweaters. Even in the dead of winter."
"Yeah well, Mitch doesn't like when men look at me. Says it's all my fault for dressing slutty and showing too much skin," she responds, lowering her eyes.
"He's just worried that someday another man is going to come along and treat you the way you should be treated. Then you'll forget all about his sorry ass."
She smiles and shakes her head. "He doesn’t have to worry about that."
"Why not?" I ask in surprise and, if I'm honest with myself, disappointment.
"Because even if another man was to come along, I wouldn't risk it. I'm not worth the consequences."
"That's him talking. He may have told you you're not worth it, but you are."
When a tear rolls down her check I reach up and wipe it gently away with the pad of my thumb.
"I'm never going to get away from him," she says softly, covering her face with both hands. She's probably right. He'll never stop looking for her, and she'll never be safe anywhere around here. She probably hasn't gone back to North Carolina because she doesn't want to take the chance the crazy bastard will follow her and hurt her family.
I reach for her, cradling her head to my chest and rubbing her back while she cries. The apple smell of her damp hair is incredible, and just being able to touch her feels so damn good. I don't want to let her go, and I sure as hell don't want her to be upset, worrying about that asshole. Any man that hurts such an amazing woman doesn't deserve to live. Which gives me a ridiculous idea.
"What if I told you I could get rid of him, permanently?" I ask her after a few minutes.
"He'll get out of jail eventually," she replies, her voice muffled against my chest.
"I'm not talking temporarily as in jail. I mean it when I say permanently." God, I hope she won't freak out on me now.
Cyn steps away from my arms, and I instantly feel her loss, making me want to reach and pull her back, along with my words.
She looks up at me for several seconds, forehead creased in confusion. "You can't mean…"
"Yes."
"No! How could you even think of doing something like that? Not only is it wrong but someone would find out and then you'd go to prison. Forever! You don't even know me, and I'm sure as hell not worth a life sentence. I don't want to go to prison either!" she exclaims in a panic.
"It wouldn't ever come back on me or you. It'd look to everyone, including the medical examiner, like a heart attack."
"How?"
"There's this…poison…that doesn't have to be ingested. Direct contact with skin is enough, and it doesn't leave any traces." It's technically a spell using my warlock blood, but same thing.
"You could really do that? Just kill him like it's nothing?" she asks.
"Why not? He could do it to you, and he might someday if you don't get away from the bastard. Look, I’ve seen his rap sheet. You and the world would be better off without him. Even if you manage to get away from him, you know he'll do the same thing to the next woman that comes along after you."
"You've done this to someone before?" she inquires, eyes narrowing as she wraps her arms around herself like she's cold.
I turn my back to her and pile some sausage on a few biscuits, then sit down on one of the stools at the kitchen bar. After taking a bite I look up, and Cyn's still standing in the same spot staring at me. "What? You know I'm not going to answer that."
"You have done it before. On my God! How many people have you killed? Why did you kill them?" she asks in a rush.
"No comment," I say before swallowing the rest of the first biscuit.
"Now I'm not so sure I should be staying with you. You're…you've murdered people, and talk about doing it again like it's no big deal! I thought the badge meant you were a good guy."
I hang my head at her disapproval. I've never felt as bad about what I've done as I do in this moment, because of the look on her face. I start explaining so she won't think I'm a homicidal monster.
"If I were to have...hypothetically murdered someone in the past, it would have only hypothetically been the man that ran my mother off the road then fled the scene without calling for help, leaving her to die horribly and all alone, and then hypothetically the man who at the time was threatening to end my sister's life with a gun. Both hypothetically when I was much younger, and before I became a police officer."
Cyn looks at me and then to my apartment door. I'm sure she's considering leaving, just making a run for it. I'll do anything to keep her here, not just for her safety, but because I want her to stay with me and understand. With what she’s been through, though, I can’t blame her, and know I won’t stop her.
"I don't regret what I did, although I do feel guilty for taking their lives. But one of them carelessly took the most important person in my life from me, and I couldn't let the other man hurt my sister. You know I'm not going to hurt you, Cyn. I just want to help you have a life. Wouldn't you like to move back to be with your family, but can't because of him?"
"Yes, but I can't do that to him. Even if I never want to see him again, I loved him and he-"
I can't contain my bark of laughter. "Oh darlin', he has done a helluva job brainwashing you if you think for one second that you loved him or that he loves you."
"How would you-" she starts, putting her hands on her hips to argue.
"A man that loves you wouldn't hurt you, and if you loved him then you wouldn't be standing in my kitchen right now. You'd be at his apartment, waiting for him to get out of jail and show you some more of that love you think he has for you."
"What does a man who fucks three different woman a weekend know about love?" she asks, the curse sounding odd coming from someone looking so sweet and innocent. And damn if it isn't arousing to hear her sa
y the word 'fuck'.
"Just because I've never experienced it doesn't mean I don't know what it's supposed to be like. A man is supposed to protect the woman he loves, even if that means he has to sacrifice everything for her. He sure as hell doesn't yell at her, beat her, or treat her like shit."
"And why don't you want to have that? Because you like screwing several women at a time?"
"It's not that I don't want it, it's that I can't have it."
"Why not?"
"Because…I have secrets that put anyone close to me in danger."
"What-"
"Not going to happen," I say, holding up a hand to stop her. "And I shouldn't have said so much. It's just, damn it…I've had to deal with this shit on my own for so fucking long…"
"And you don't have any family left?"
"No."
"Your sister's baby didn't make it?" she asks softly, coming to stand against the counter across from me.
"Yeah, she made it," I respond, then try to quickly push aside the image of Liz's lifeless body surrounded by black blood. The one that's haunted me for almost twenty years.
"So what happened to your niece?"
"I don't know if Kate's still alive." Damn if it doesn't still piss me off that she'll never know her own mother. Liz had loved her and wanted her so fucking much. Goddamn it was unfair for fate to take Liz, the saintliest person I've ever known, away from the one thing she'd wanted more than anything.
"Why wouldn't she be alive?"
"Kate would be all grown up now. I haven't been in touch with her or her father since she was a baby."
"Your sister's husband?"
"No, they never married. The bastard was already married when he got Liz pregnant."
"Oh wow."
"Yeah. And if he hadn't been the one called into town to investigate after my mom's accident, he wouldn't have met my sister and knocked her up…"
"You think she'd still be alive?"
"She would be!" I yell, barely restraining myself from throwing the closest item in reach, my porcelain plate, across the room.
"But you wouldn't have a niece."
"So?" I respond.
"So you think your sister's life was more important than your niece's?"
"No. Yes. I don't know. I wanted to have both. I just...I hated losing her so suddenly. I never got a chance to tell her goodbye. Tom didn't fucking call me when she went into labor, and by the time he did...she was already gone. Then there was nothing I could do to even try and save her."
"Maybe you should find your niece. She's a part of your family, a part of your sister. She probably even looks like her. Holy shit!" Cyn suddenly yells covering her mouth. Her eyes go over to the photos of Liz and my mom on the mantle.
"What?" I ask.
"I thought your sister looked familiar…and then you said her name is Kate and she may not be alive. Her name and picture were on TV for months!"
"Oh fuck." I realize my mistake. I've said too damn much. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"And her father, Tom, or Thomas Adams, he's wanted by the government too."
And it's too late.
Cyn starts toward the living room to grab her phone, and I'm certain she's about to do some research.
"Cyn, don't. Please," I beg, following her to the couch. I reach and take the phone from her hand, causing her to look up at me with a stunned expression. "I'm begging you to forget the whole fucking conversation we just had," I plead with her, holding the phone above my head, out of her reach.
"Will you tell me the truth?"
"No."
"Then give me my phone back," she says, jumping up to try and make a grab for it.
"No."
She pulls on my arm with both of hers, but I won't budge, and I'm a foot taller than her. I suddenly realize how close she is, her body almost flush against mine as she struggles to reach her phone. God, I want to feel her against me again.
Cyn finally pauses a second in her struggling, and when her green eyes look up and meet mine, they widen, noticing that only mere inches separate us. Both of us lean forward, just enough that our lips lightly brush against each other. It's a hesitant kiss, an unspoken question of, "Do you want me too?"
Fuck yes, I want her.
I toss her phone over to the couch so I can wrap both of my arms around her waist, pulling her body tightly against mine. When her soft breasts flatten against my chest, I feel Cyn's sharp intake of breath before her hands desperately grasp the back of my neck. My tongue delves tentatively into her open, minty fresh mouth and she reciprocates with a moan, eagerly stroking and caressing her tongue against mine. Unbelievable, urgent need consumes my body at her touch, and it's so fucking amazing that there aren't any words to describe it. I need more, have to have more of this beautiful woman.
Moving my hands lower I grab hold of her incredible ass to grind her lower body against my hard cock, showing her how much I want her. Instead of retreating, she holds me even tighter. And hell, I know it's wrong for so many reasons, but at the moment I don't fucking care. At least not until she lets me go to pull her shirt over her head. Reality comes crashing down on me like a bucket of ice cold water.
"Cyn wait," my hand reaches out without permission to cup her tempting breasts, and I have to reel it back against my body. "As much as I want you, and I know you felt how much I want you, we can't do this." I take a step back so she's out of my shaking hand's reach, and then cringe at the hurt expression on her face.
"I'm not pretty enough or good enough to be one of your 'casual relationships'?" she asks angrily as she grabs her top from the floor and yanks it back over her head.
"You're too beautiful and too good for that. For me. And that's all I have to offer," I assure her.
"What if that's all I want?"
"You don't," I tell her with a shake of my head. She deserve a husband and family. A future. Things I'll never have. "And you're trying to get out of an abusive relationship. Jesus, you're the victim of one of my cases. I can't take advantage of you like that. Hell, I promised you I wouldn't touch you while you're here!"
"So I'm not capable of deciding what I want for myself?"
"Honestly?" I ask. "No. If you made good choices for yourself you wouldn't have ended up with such an asshole, treating you the way he does, then going back to him over and over again."
She covered her blood red face with both hands. "I don't go back to him. He finds me and drags me back. God, I'm not an idiot! I know it's volatile. I'm just trying to do the best I can with the situation I'm stuck in."
"Then I go back to my original argument. A meaningless, random hookup is all you get with me. You deserve so much more than that, and I really wish I could offer you more…but I can't. Just because you've heard the story on the news, trust me, you have no idea how much other fucked up shit there is in my past, and none of it will be going away-"
"Baaaaabbbbyyyy, I'm hot just like an ovennnnn. I need some lovinnnnn," blasts from the kitchen counter, and both our heads turn in that direction. My cell phone is ringing.
"Seriously?" Cyn scoffs at my song choice. "Aren't you a little young for Marvin Gaye?"
"I'm older than I look," I tell her, silently thanking Marvin for the distraction as he keeps right on singing "Sexual Healing." I jog over to make him stop.
"And baaaaabbbbyyyy. I can't hold it much longer, it's getting stronger and stronger. And when I get that feeling I want -"
"Hey Mandi," I answer after seeing her name on the screen. I'm still out of breath as I head for the bedroom.
"Hi Jason. So are you off work tonight?" she asks, sounding hopeful.
I consider canceling, but I want to make sure Cyn understands that nothing can ever happen between us. Relationships are a waste of time for me and any woman I get involved with. I know serious dating only leads to marriage, which usually leads to children. I can't marry someone and not tell them what I am, and hell, what woman would ever stick around once she found out? My father s
ure as hell hadn't. Even after almost a goddamn decade with my mom he still didn't love us enough to stick around after the day we were born and he found out what we are. If there was such a mythical, understanding woman in the world, I'm not selfish enough to ask her to put herself in danger of execution if my secret were to slip out. But most of all, I could not and would not ever bring a child with black blood into this world. Condemning an innocent child to a life that consists only of hiding and worrying about a death sentence if they bleed in front of the wrong person is just plain wrong.
"As of right now I'm off, and hopefully I won't get called in," I respond.
"Awesome! How about we meet for dinner around seven?"
Eh. Dinner out is risky since there's always a chance one of the other women I'm fucking will see us together. Oh well, it's time to cut Melissa loose after her freak out last night anyway, and Courtney has started blowing up my phone during the week.
"Sure. Matchbox?" I ask, remembering it's one of her favorites. I occasionally listen to what women say outside of orgasms.
"Yeah, that'll be great."
"Okay, see ya' then."
Hanging up the phone I try to figure out what I'm going to do for the next eight hours to avoid touching Cyn.
After I have a cold shower to try and ease my arousal, I head back into the living room, unable to stay away from her any longer. I sit down on the other end of the couch with Max between the two of us. He's a pretty good barrier, and he sure as hell likes the double attention of both of us rubbing his fat ass.
"Whatcha watching?" I ask.
"Batman Begins, but it's your TV so you can put it on whatever you want," she tells me, handing the remote out for me to take it without actually looking at me. She still seems a little pissed about earlier.
"No, this is fine. Is it a marathon? Because I've got hours to kill."
"Sure is. All three movies, back to back."
"Hell, dim the lights and I'll pop some popcorn so we can get this party started," I tell her, jumping up to head for the kitchen.
I notice right away that Cyn washed up the dirty dishes from breakfast and put everything away while I was hiding out in my room. It's such a small thing, but one that makes me instantly think of my mom and sister. How they both always cooked and cleaned up after me, taking care of my sorry ass for twenty-one years. I'd taken them both for granted until they were suddenly gone.
