by Lori Foster
“Doesn’t matter now,” Logan said. “It’s all out in the open.”
Reese looked at West. “Unless you have any confessions you’d like to make?”
“Not me, no.” West let his arms drop. “Not about that, anyway. Other stuff but...” He shook his head. “But Margo and I already cleared the air on that. At least, I hope we did.” He watched her, waiting for confirmation.
Margo wouldn’t let him off the hook that easily. “There will be another investigation, and your name will come up.”
Dead serious, he told her, “It’s not a problem.”
Meaning he truly wasn’t involved? God, she hoped that was true.
West waited. “Now, about us?”
She believed him, and relief flooded her system, making her so damned tired. “We’ll work on it.”
That seemed to be the permission he needed and he strode forward, lifting her chin and examining her face. “Are you all right?”
Suspect as it might be, his concern still felt nice. “I’m fine.” Sirens sounded out front.
West put his arm around her. “You ready for this, sis? It’s going to be far uglier than the first investigation.”
“Regrets already?”
“No.” He gave her a one-arm hug. “I just want you to know that this time you won’t be alone. I’m here and I’ll support you any way I can.”
His show of affection got interrupted with a ringing phone. Logan pulled out his cell and, with Dan and her father both cuffed, leaned against the counter to answer. Margo watched him, saw the way he tightened, and blew out an impatient breath.
What now?
As soon as he ended the call Logan strode over to her, took her arm and moved her away from West. “That was Karen Ford.”
“Dan’s ex-wife?”
He nodded. “When Dan denied using his parents’ house, I asked Karen about it. I know they’re divorced, but they still share a social circle. Karen was more than happy to turn him out. She said he’s had multiple parties there, almost every weekend since he got the place. Their friends have talked about it, a few with praise, others saying he’s off the deep end.”
Smiling, Margo looked over at Dan. He sat on the floor, his face bloodied, his shirt torn. A defeated man.
Reese joined them, but only to hand over his phone. “The mayor’s on the line.” He leaned closer. “I told him all of it, and he wants to talk to you now, before you talk to anyone else.”
Please, she thought, not another attempt at a cover-up.
But as she walked into the other room to speak privately, she discovered that the mayor’s idea of damage control wasn’t to hide anything. Nope, he wanted it all handled by the book, resolved once and for all, and for that he wanted her counsel. She almost wanted to crawl through the phone and kiss him for his honor.
Given her personal involvement, Margo knew she couldn’t be in charge of the investigation. Logan was out, too. Thanks to her relationship with Dash, who had also been threatened, Logan would be too close. It was an easy decision to hand the duty off to Reese. But she didn’t delude herself; she and Logan would both be in the thick of it. At least this way they had some checks and balances in place.
To complicate her life more, the mayor assigned her as temporary commander until further notice.
Since reconnecting with Dash, her life had been upside down, sideways and confusing as hell. And things had just gotten worse. Whether or not Dash actually loved her, she supposed she’d find out later. It was going to take her at least a few days to get things settled.
For now, she’d have to put him—and her entire personal life—on the back burner.
Duty called.
* * *
A LONG BATH hadn’t relaxed her, not enough. Dressed in jeans and one of Dash’s T-shirts that he’d left behind, she took her Coke and settled on the couch with Oliver.
So many decisions to make.
As she was thinking it, first her cell phone rang, and then her landline. Margo huddled deeper into her couch, her face hidden in a throw pillow. Seven days had gone by—an entire week—and she still hadn’t seen Dash. With each day that passed, any relationship with him seemed more improbable.
They’d talked that first day, and he’d again said he loved her. But she’d just found out that maybe, just maybe, her father, in his own way, loved her, too.
Knowing it left her...strangely empty. Maybe because, after everything, she couldn’t trust in his caring.
Now West...for the first time he was totally backing her, even going so far as to give information from the first investigation. He’d even joined Dan’s ex in verifying Dan had, in fact, been to his parents’ house multiple times. West swore he never saw any drugs or pornos, but his visits had been during the day, not for parties.
They’d talked to other visitors who verified that. Most who admitted to seeing the porn swore they thought it was just that: cheap entertainment, not abduction and rape.
She was so relieved that West wasn’t mired in any of the mess. But could they actually repair their relationship? She didn’t really trust in that possibility, either.
For certain her mother was thoroughly disgusted with all of it. No reason to even wonder about that. But then, her mother had been cold and unfeeling for years. Margo suspected that had more to do with an unhappy marriage than any real animus toward her children.
Margo dropped the pillow and groaned. Oliver, being sympathetic, pressed against her and purred. She stroked him while trying to order her thoughts. Sooner or later she had to see Dash. She had to learn whether or not he really did love her, or if he’d just been caught up in the moment. She wanted to believe him. God, how she wanted to.
But what did she know of love?
Nada. Zip.
She was so confused. And maybe even a little needy. And that was uncomfortable enough to completely throw her off her game.
Disgusted, she put her head back and squeezed her eyes shut.
For most of her life her parents hadn’t understood her, her brother had been annoyed by her, her officers resented her.
Her commander wanted her dead.
Dan Ford—the man who had initiated the corruption at the station, the official who had first drawn in the ex-hookers, forcing them to play or face possible trumped-up prosecution.
A man who had actually enjoyed watching women be victimized by a trio of psychos.
She was a strong person, she knew that.
But she was now officially overwhelmed.
If she met with Dash, what then? Even if he still wanted her, even if he wanted to continue their relationship, she couldn’t help thinking...what if he didn’t love her?
Lacking any real time off to help it heal, her elbow ached, especially when she tried to sleep. But it was nothing compared to the dark of night turmoil that plagued her head, or the hollowness that invaded her heart when she should have been resting.
With Toby dead and Curtis separated from Saul, Saul fell apart like a frightened child. He gave them everything they needed to fully prosecute Curtis: addresses, names, location of evidence. Saul’s testimony wouldn’t save him, but it could spare him a possible death sentence. For a cowardly little worm like Saul, a life sentence would be worse than death anyway.
Earlier that day she’d met with Tipton and Yvette again. Because of the memories, the resurgent fears, Yvette wasn’t sleeping well. Margo had wanted to talk with her about the upcoming trials, to help her understand what would be happening. But the girl seemed doubly shamed when around her, so she’d reluctantly handed off that duty to Logan.
She wanted Dash. She needed him. And that was such an untenable sensation that she automatically balked, fighting it, and in the process made herself more despondent—which was also a terrible feeling.
“What am I going to do?” she asked Oliver.
When the knock sounded on her door, she nearly jumped a foot. It was well after work hours, already dark outside.
Could it be Dash?
Her heart launched into her throat, then dropped to her feet. If Dash demanded that she let him in, he could take the decision for a confrontation away from her. She bit her lip.
Did she want that?
Rowdy’s voice came through the closed door. “Open up, Margo. I know you’re in there.”
Extreme disappointment had her squeezing her eyes shut. It took several deep breaths before she got herself together, then she called, “Coming.”
Working up to her everything-is-fine face, Margo sat the cat aside, straightened her clothes, smoothed her hair and went to the door. She opened with an absurd show of welcome. “Hey, Rowdy. Shouldn’t you be working?”
“Cannon is covering for me.” With a smile of sympathy, Rowdy pushed his way in, checking her out from head to toes. He tweaked a curl. “Lookin’ a little worse for wear, aren’t you?”
She should have known she couldn’t fool him. Turning away, she dropped back into her seat on the couch. “I’m exhausted.”
“Yeah, so?” Standing right in front of her, he folded his muscular arms over his chest. “You’ve been exhausted before.”
Physically, sure. But never so emotionally beat. “What do you want?”
For the longest time he continued to stand there, dissecting her, until finally he dropped down beside her—so close that their thighs touched. “I want to talk about you being single.”
Her stomach sort of bottomed out. Before Rowdy had married Avery, she’d have been flattered. Before Dash, she might have even been tempted. But now...
Summoning up her most stern and direct stare, she looked into his eyes and said, “This isn’t happening.”
“Yeah.” He put his arm around her shoulders and gave her a hug. “It is.” And then with a grin he said, “But get your mind out of the gutter because it’s not what you’re thinking.”
“No?” Her eyebrow went up. “Then what is it?”
“A long overdue lecture.”
Oh, hell no. “Thanks, but no th—” She got her ass two inches off the couch before he pulled her right back, almost into his lap!
“A lecture that’s coming from me for several reasons.” Anchoring her to his side, his muscled arm keeping her immobile, glued to his scrumptious body, he said, “First, Avery insisted I come over. She literally shoved me out the door.”
Margo snorted.
“The woman thinks I walk on water. I don’t understand it, but—”
“Rowdy.”
He smiled. “Secondly, I had a shit childhood. You maybe know that. Maybe not. I’m not going into detail, but understand that it was pretty bad.”
She rolled in her lips and dared a look at him. So close that she could count the eyelashes on his beautiful eyes, she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, me, too. Thing is, I think you know something about that. For you it wasn’t the same. You had a house and clothes and...parents. But it wasn’t fun for you, either. It wasn’t the way it should have been.”
She definitely couldn’t compare herself to Rowdy’s background. “I don’t see how—”
“When I couldn’t smother away the bad memories, I tried to fuck them away.”
Well...there was a confession. More attentive, she listened.
“For the most part, I was successful. Screwing was the best way I knew to block a bad memory. I could so easily lose myself in a woman.”
Just as she lost herself in Dash. “Rowdy...”
He pressed a finger to her lips and continued. “A nice lady or a bitch. A beauty or just some gal who was willing. Didn’t matter if I liked her or not because all I wanted was a lay.”
She removed his hand. “A quick lay?”
His smile went cocky. “Can’t really block heavy-duty nightmares with a quickie, now can I? But the point is that I used women.”
She wasn’t exactly surprised. Rowdy’s sexuality was a blatant part of him, pretty much up front and in your face. “I doubt the ladies complained over that.”
Grin widening, he shrugged. “Mostly they just complained when it ended. But my point—because I do have one—is that you and I are kindred spirits.”
Fearing he might be right, she tried to joke her way around his understanding. “Actually, I’m not into women.”
“No, I have a feeling you’re into something altogether different. Not entirely about sex, but maybe more about losing the responsibility for a while.”
Her blood surged and her eyes narrowed. “Did Dash talk to you?”
Pitying her, Rowdy shook his head. “You know better—and it’d piss Dash off to know you even suggested such a thing.”
Blowing out a breath, Margo dropped her head back onto his thick biceps. It felt kind of nice—comforting, warm, safe—to be held by Rowdy Yates. She could see why his sister, Reese’s wife and Rowdy’s wife had all so easily fallen under his protective umbrella.
But she was different. For her entire life she hadn’t needed anyone. No way was she ready to give up that persona. Not yet.
Not with Rowdy.
She turned her head. “So what are you saying?”
“My life changed so much for the better when I met Avery. I would never do anything to hurt her. I love her. More than life. More than I even knew was possible.”
“You still have nightmares?”
“Sometimes. The shit I remember...it’s a part of me, so I doubt it’ll ever go away. But to deal with it, all I need is Avery, not some string of nameless women.”
Knowing where he was going with this, she shook her head. “And you think all I need is Dash?”
His expression gentled and he tightened his hold. “I think for a badass cop who wallows in taking control with an iron fist, at heart you’re a coward.”
That awful accusation hit her like a slap. Stunned, and then infuriated, she said, “I’m not—”
“And,” Rowdy emphasized, cutting her off, “if you’re not a coward, if I’m somehow wrong—or if I’m right and you want to correct things—then you’ll go and talk to Dash.”
She prepared to lambaste him. God knew he had it coming. She even had her mouth open to do just that.
But Rowdy watched her, his brows pinched with the seriousness of his claim, waiting to see if she’d own up, or deny it...like a coward.
“Damn.”
The stern expression eased. He even smiled. She saw it in his eyes, how he expected her to man up and accept it. And she did.
“There you go,” he said gently. “There’s that backbone of steel.”
Stupid, lame, crybaby tears blurred her vision.
Rowdy pulled her closer against his hard chest, his hand on the back of her head, his fingers in her hair, massaging her scalp. He didn’t tell her not to cry. He didn’t tell her everything would be okay.
Rowdy was more honest than that.
“Much as you’re suffering, I can promise you that it’s worse for Dash. He’s fought every instinct known to man to be there for you in whatever way you needed, and still you cut him out.”
Unable to squeeze a single word out for fear it’d be a squeaky, choking sob, she shook her head.
“No?”
She shook her head again. She hadn’t cut him out. Never that. She didn’t even think such a thing was possible. Not talking to him pained her. Not seeing him was worse.
Even during her job, while dealing with the seriousness of a major investigation, he’d been on her mind.
But she had given in to the fear. She’d hidden away.
A coward. A miserable, lowly coward.
I
t took several deep breaths before she felt confident she could talk without disgracing herself. “What if he doesn’t love me?”
“Know what you should do?” He kissed her forehead. “Go to him. Right now. Ask him outright.”
“Put myself out of my misery?”
His gravelly laugh was a sound more of compassion than humor. “Yeah, something like that.” Then he tipped up her chin.
Margo knew what he saw. She was a terrible crier. Nothing pretty about it.
His smile went crooked. “Aw, hon.” Using his thumb, he brushed away the tears. “I know how you feel, not wanting to put too much stock in love. But I can vouch for the awesomeness of it. All you have to do is trust Dash.”
“I wouldn’t know what to say.”
“You’re a female. You don’t have to say anything. Just go to him, strip off your clothes and lead him to bed. Men are not as complicated as women. Trust me, he’ll get the message.”
She laughed around her uncertainty. “You are so sexist.”
He shrugged. “After you’ve both let off steam and your brains are temporarily blank of the external problems, then you can talk.”
Yes. Yes, that’s what she wanted to do. She put her arms around Rowdy and hugged him tight. “Thank you.”
Unfortunately, that’s precisely when Dash opened her door and stepped in.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
WHAT THE FUCK.
Dash looked from Rowdy’s smirking face to Margo’s wide-eyed shock, and he lifted both brows.
He’d figured Margo was lying low, that she was probably second-guessing him and even herself. She wouldn’t answer her phone, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t home, or even that she was busy. He’d checked with Logan first and found out that she’d finished her day an hour ago. They were overloaded, yes. Logan confirmed it. But she wasn’t working literally around the clock. She could have called him if she’d wanted to.
With everything she’d gone through, she had good reason for wanting to take a time-out. But it had been a week and his patience was gone. And so he’d come to find her.
But he had not expected to find her... Well, like that. Wrapped around another man, all cozy and intimate.
