Criminal Promises

by Nikki Duncan

  She should have known better. She would have if she’d actually thought. Instead, she’d grabbed the chance for a mental escape, gone off less than half-cocked without regard to the consequences, followed her gut and given her trust to a man she hardly knew. All for a fleeting glimpse of euphoria.

  He offered the illusion of safety, reeled her in until she’d gotten lost in him and it had cost more of her heart.

  Mike had literally been the boy next door. They’d gone from friends, to dates of convenience, to married. The realities of sex she knew she learned from him, yet the gaps in her knowledge had burst forth in bed with Burke. She’d never been so free with her body, so quick to embrace abandon.

  She’d even started calling him BD…Burke.

  “Mags.” His voice—one she would hear often in dreams—deep with sexual suggestions drew her gaze to the doorway.

  H-O-L-Y H-E-L-L. Burke…BD…Harte. Harte—she had to think of him that way for there to be any hope of coping with the coming loss of bliss he’d stimulated—stood with water droplets dripping down his broad, naked chest. He’d only put on jeans and shoes.

  There would be no blocking the memory. Now that she knew what lurked beneath the surface of the often solemn detective, his nakedness was harder to face.

  “It’s almost time. What are you doing?”

  “Cleaning. I need to stay busy.” Not that it was settling her mind.

  As though nothing had happened, as though he hadn’t shown her pleasures which made fantasies look tame, he walked around like he owned the place. He’d snapped back into himself—fully in cop mode with no hint that she’d been anything more than a release of energy.

  “Last chance. We can find another way.”

  “There is no other way.” She stood and kicked a ball of dirty clothes toward Jared’s hamper. “If Adalia has to be stalled until you get into position it’s going to have to be done by someone who knows Mike, what he learned from those scrolls and where they are.”

  “You’re asking me for too much.” BD closed the distance between them and took her loose hair in his hand. “I can’t risk you getting hurt if I’m delayed.”

  His voice cracked on what she knew to be an uncomfortable admission. Her heart cracked a little.

  “I trust you.” Brushing his cheek with her fingers she sought to reassure him. “This is something I have to do.”

  He turned to the dresser and picked up a picture of Mike and Jared grinning like loons. Unsteady breaths moved his back up and down. Up and down. “Did I tell you I sat with Mike while he died?”

  She sniffed, but wouldn’t cry. “Yes.”

  “I didn’t tell you… In those moments he struck me as an upstanding guy whose only concern was the wife and son he’d never see again.” BD traced the edge of the frame, speaking reverently about her husband. Maybe a sliver of regret mingled with reverence. “You consumed his last thoughts, Mags. He loved you. He knew the treasure of what he had in this home.”

  Tears fell down her heated face. “You don’t fight fair.”

  “I need you to know how much you have to fight for.” He still didn’t look at her. Didn’t look away from the picture he continued rubbing. “I lost my family. Don’t do something that’s going to cost you yours.”

  “I’m not going to.” She went to him and rested her cheek on his bare back. “I know what I have to lose. I wonder if you do.”

  “Maggie.” He rolled his shoulders and stepped away with a distinct you’re dismissed vibe.

  “Nevermind. I get it.” Fine. If that’s how he wants it, fine. “You played your games. You got your jollies. Time’s up.”

  “You know damn well it wasn’t like that. Not for one second.”

  “Really? Prove it. Give me one reason to believe anything we did meant something to you.” She angled her chin. “Because your lackluster tone holds no conviction and every time I let myself get close or reach out, you pull away. Or shove me away.”

  “You’re wrong.”

  “Then why do you kiss me?”

  “I kiss you because… Damn it.” His voice finally held passion. Fire. “I kiss you because I like it.” His mouth devoured hers in a brief, punishing kiss before he thrust her away. “I gave you orgasms because you asked for them.”

  “Burke.”

  “No! You got what you wanted from me and walked away. You’re the one who couldn’t get out of my bed fast enough. If anyone was a meaningless lay it was me to you.”

  “That’s not true!” How could he be the one hurt? How could he not know what he’d done to her? How could he have been so aware of her every desire and not know how much it had meant to her?

  “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” His attempt at another dismissal fizzled. It did matter if the hurt in his tone was an indicator. “Think what you want.”

  “I happen to think you’re an ass.”

  “Damn it, Mags.” Shaking his hands in front of her in an almost comical, claw-like fashion he growled. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

  “Why do you have to be so overbearing?”

  “I’m trying to protect you!”

  “By demanding where I sleep? Or by screwing me blind? Or by trying to browbeat me into doing everything your way, when and where you want?”

  “It’s not like that! It hasn’t been like that!”

  “It’s exactly like that!” Realizing she was screaming, she froze. Her heart slammed within her ribcage, banging and clanging. She rubbed at the pain and tried to calm herself. She’d never screamed at anyone. Ever.

  Losing control simply wasn’t an option, and she’d done it multiple times. What was it about Harte took her over the cliff of rational behavior?

  Stare-to-stare, toe-to-toe, they stood. Combative. Breathing deep. Not blinking. Like they were waiting to see who would speak first and forfeit the fight.

  If he caught half of what she’d said, and guessed at everything she hadn’t, he would realize how much power he held over her. And she worried he knew her thoughts and desires better than she did herself. No man could be as in tune to a woman unless he understood the secrets she harbored deep inside.

  “I’m sorry.” She stepped back and shook her head. “I shouldn’t have said all that.”

  “Yeah well, I’m pretty sure I dealt it as well as you. You make me lose control.” He regarded her with those blue eyes of his. Her resolve to argue faded. “I had no control over how I lost Sam. I won’t be able to live with myself if something happens to you. You’re too important to risk.”

  BD jumped into the car, ready for the night to be over. It had barely begun. Using Maggie as bait shredded his heart with agonizingly slow slices.

  He should have found a safer way to trap Adalia. Should have kissed Maggie one last time or explained more clearly why he didn’t like her in Adalia’s path. Should have told her exactly how important she was to him and why.

  Should haves sucked stinky balls.

  But by the time he’d stopped being a jerk, Craig had rushed to the door telling him they had a tip on Adalia. BD couldn’t change what he’d done. All he could do was keep his promise to protect her.

  “How’s she holding up?”

  “She’s strong.” Terrified, but trying to hide it. He leaned back against the headrest while Craig drove out of the neighborhood in a hurry for the sake of watchful eyes.

  “Not what I asked.”

  “Your point, Oprah?”

  “You care for her.”

  Yeah, but what difference does it make? “That isn’t safe.”

  “She’s not Sam, BD. This situation is…different.”

  He kept remarks to himself. What he felt for Maggie… She unearthed emotions he’d long buried. Emotions beyond passion or caring inspired by respect. Emotions he wouldn’t name. “I told her.”

  Craig glanced his way with wide eyes. “About Sam or the baby?”

  “Both.” How had she gotten under his skin so quickly?

  “I know what S
am meant to you better than anyone. I also see how you look at Maggie.” Craig sighed with the weight of shared grief. He’d felt responsible for her death too. “You’re not objective. You want to shelter her.”

  “Doing my job.”

  “Stopping Adalia is your job. Loving Maggie isn’t.”

  “Didn’t say I loved her.” Did I?

  “Didn’t have to. Just…be careful.”

  “I know the boundaries.” No friendship. No future. No nothing beyond returning to the four walls of his drab apartment.

  Nope.

  He would walk away, and though it would hurt, she’d be alive and never have to worry about the dangers of his job. He would never have to worry about her or her kids being caught in the crossfire.

  “This is going to work.” Whether trying to convince himself or Craig, BD didn’t appreciate his plaintive tone. “Adalia’s going to get to her one way or another. At least this way we have some control over the when and where.”

  Craig headed a few streets over as they’d planned. “Cap thinks it’s a solid plan, and considering his military record, that’s high praise.”

  “You think he’s the one helping her?” They’d entertained the possibility briefly. Cap had the freedom to be involved, but they found no motivation.

  “Cap? I hope not.” Craig slipped the car into Park. “We’ll know soon enough though.”

  Exiting the car, they checked their guns and turned toward Maggie’s. A Ford pickup swerved down the road and sped straight for the side of Craig’s car. Craig rolled onto the hood. BD dove as far away from the car as possible doing a ducking roll across the grass. The truck slammed into where Craig had been standing.

  The wreck was too convenient, too perfectly timed, and too much like Mike’s had been to be coincidence.

  BD yanked out his phone and dialed 9-1-1. Craig rushed to the driver’s door where a young boy, may be fourteen, rambled in Spanish.

  React faster.

  Maggie was alone. Unprotected. “Craig, this is a trap.”

  Craig leaned into the open window of the truck. “Are you hurt? Lastimar¿” he translated.

  BD looked from Craig to the driver to Maggie’s direction, half listening while giving instructions and information to the emergency operator. His phone beeped with an incoming message.

  A in kitchen.

  Adalia had shown.

  React faster.

  BD directed to operator to dispatch Mac to Maggie’s and hung up. “Hang tight, Mags. I’m coming.”

  “Lastimar¿” Craig repeated.

  “No.” The boy rubbed his forehead, shook his head. “No…hurt. Estrellarse…dinero.”

  Craig opened the door and pulled the kid out. “Estrallarse¿”

  “Auto.” The boy pointed at Craig’s car and slammed his hands together. “Boom. Estrallarse.”

  “Craig.” McClain was heading in, but he was too far away. Alarms rang in BD’s head. His guts twisted. “Craig.”

  “I know.” He waved a hand at BD.

  “Dinero, si¿”

  “No. Prison. Slammer.” Craig pulled out his cuffs, secured one link around the boy’s wrist and the other to a bar on the truck’s side view mirror and ordered the kid to stay put before joining BD. “You tell dispatch where we’d be?”

  “Yeah.” Shoving the phone back in his pocket, he and Craig took off toward Maggie’s.

  His cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Running through the houses, he pulled it from his pocket to read another text from Maggie.

  Someone’s going to die. Depressing. Sad. Unavoidable. The certainty of the thought nagged.

  Fiddling with her wedding ring, her fingers shaking more with every turn Maggie paced Jared’s bedroom floor. She knew the plan. She’d fought for this, for the right to face Adalia and would see it through to the end. She’d never been more scared.

  Scared of Adalia. Scared of death. Scared of losing the chance to tell Burke how she felt, how he made her tingle, how she didn’t want to be without him. Ever. She wanted a relationship with him. To get past the fear of his job.

  This whole warped week of dealing with Adalia’s torments had driven home just how fleeting life was. No way could she allow the man who’d revealed her real self and shown her the purity of passion go without knowing her feelings.

  He’d given her the strength to believe in Mike and had accepted and understood her need to be involved. Only Burke could put his need for control aside and only because he cared. But how much did he care? Enough to not bolt if she laid herself bare at his fee?

  Her belly flipped at the idea.

  Checking her watch, she saw he and Craig had been gone for five minutes and should be in position across the street in the neighbor’s bushes. She pulled the cell from her pocket, made sure it was on silent and slipped it back. Going through the house, she flipped off lights and made a show of getting ready for bed with the darkness acting as cover to hide her moves from anyone watching.

  Sometimes, being obsessive compulsive was advantageous. She knew the layout of her home, right down to the directional placement of the smallest knick-knack, in complete darkness. Shifting a few things around the house, warning signals of a sort, she prepared herself for Adalia. The activity calmed her shaking hands.

  Standing in the hall by her room, satisfied with her efforts, she decided to kill time by cleaning Jared’s tub. With odd luck she’d find an unidentifiable sticky substance that would require major scrubbing. The last one had resembled chocolate pudding, with the sticking power of Liquid Nails.

  A soft thump, a scraping chair on the tile floor, and a curse from the kitchen signaled it was show time. A muffled crash from a few streets over ripped through the night silence. Adalia laughed.

  Maggie’s stomach jangled as if she’d downed a couple of energy drinks and a few caffeine pills with no food.

  Breathing deep and counting to ten, she forced her heart rate to slow as she turned away from Jared’s room, pulled out her phone and sent a text message to BD.

  A in kitchen.

  He would hurry, but she had no intention of being an easy mark. Pressing her back to the hall wall across from her room, she listened for hints as to which way Adalia headed. The living room toward her or the dining room toward BD’s room?

  The squeaky wheel of the antique tea cart in the dining room, the annoyance she couldn’t get to stop squeaking, gave her Adalia’s direction. She’d chosen to search the far side of the house first. Timing her moves with the sounds of Adalia feeling her way in the dark, Maggie stepped over the jangly metal belt she’d placed on the floor, rounded the corner into the living room, and pressed herself into the corner by the entertainment center.

  The motion sensor nightlight she’d placed in BD’s bathroom shined dully around the back corner of the wall blocking the view of his room from the living room. So far her little traps were working, keeping her aware of Adalia’s moves. With luck, she would avoid confrontation until BD and Craig returned.

  Keeping her back to the wall, Maggie slid into a squat just as Adalia stepped onto the tiled floor of the entryway. She grinned when each step the woman took made a slight sucking sound. Pouring the Sprite out and spreading it around wouldn’t have done much if she hadn’t worn rubber-soled shoes, but tennis were best for sneaking around.

  Luck was on her side so far.

  Swallowing the lump of fear in her throat, wishing her cell would vibrate with a message from BD, Maggie duck-walked across the room until she was crouching behind the love seat.

  Adalia’s steps became muffled by the carpet in the office. Maggie shifted around the end table she’d pulled into the walkway and hustled into the hall by BD’s room. Reaching inside the doorway of his bathroom, she pulled the nightlight from the plug so as to not signal Adalia where she was, or BD when he made it back, and then she hurried through the bathroom into the bedroom.

  Inhaling deeply, drawing in the spicy scent of BD and embracing the reminder of what their lovemakin
g had been like she wondered how much longer he would call this room his. Her home his.

  Swallowing a chunk of fear, she grabbed the baby monitor off his bedside table, sank into the corner on the opposite side of the bed to listen to Adalia on the far side of the house, and pulled her phone out, hoping for a message from BD.

  Where was he? Why hadn’t he texted back? He had made a promise, but she appeared to be on her own with a killer in her home.

  Sitting in BD’s room by the open window, with the bed between her and the door, listening to the occasional bump on the baby monitor, she tracked Adalia’s location. She cursed as she stepped on a toy truck. Just outside of Jared’s room. The open doors on the bathroom connecting the kids’ rooms made hearing her on the monitor easier.

  Come on, BD.

  Again she considered popping the window screen off and climbing out. Again she reminded herself of the plan and BD’s warning. Adalia wouldn’t come alone.

  She needed to stay where BD expected her. At least for a little bit. And she’d promised not to call 9-1-1. As they’d discussed, they didn’t know what Adalia would do if she heard sirens and they wanted to catch her partner.

  “Nice painting, Sullivan.” Adalia’s voice, layered with menace, as she stood in Jared’s room chilled Maggie more than the phone call had.

  Punching buttons, Maggie sent another text, copying Craig, telling them of the traps she’d set and where she and Adalia were in the house. If they didn’t show up pretty quick, she was crawling out the window and calling 9-1-1. No one had intended for her to face Adalia alone.

  Where are you?

  “Come out, come out wherever you are.” Adalia called out from the living room. “You can’t hide forever.”

  She’s headed this way. Maggie flipped off the baby monitor and slid along the wall. Putting distance between her and the window could be a bad move, but so could keeping herself cornered. At least if she moved closer to the adjoining bathroom she had a chance of getting away. After a bracing breath she slid up the wall, slipped her phone in her pocket and promised herself she could handle this.