Something Wicked: HarperImpulse Romantic Suspense

by Campbell, Angela

  He scoffed. “Who? Ray?” He shook his head. “If Ray had hit Zach, Zach would have told me.”

  “Maybe Zach was protecting you.”

  He pointed at his chest. “Ray never laid a finger on me.”

  “There are other ways of protecting someone. You were how old? Like twelve, right? And Zach was only sixteen or so? Your big brother. What do most big brothers do?” She bit at her bottom lip. “Dylan, your mother came to me because she knew why Zach left. She’s validated everything Zach told Hannah. She’s told me most of this herself.”

  He shoved away and walked into the office, fists clenched. This was outrageous. His mother had never said anything about this when she’d been alive. She wouldn’t have—

  “Dylan, I won’t pretend to know how screwed-up your family situation really was, but I do know what Rebecca has told me.”

  She knew his mom’s name was Rebecca? Of course. Zach could have told her that.

  “My mother was a good woman. She would have never let Ray hurt me or Zach and just stood by. Never.”

  “But she did. And she spent the rest of her life dealing with that guilt, which is why she’s still hanging around, trying to make things right.” He heard the click-clack of her boots then felt her hand on his shoulder from behind. “She made a mistake. She told me she tried to make things with Ray work because she didn’t think she could take care of you on her own, financially.”

  His mother had hinted as much, especially after she’d filed for divorce and kicked Ray out.

  “Did you know Zach sent her money?”

  He half turned. “What?”

  “He sent her money to keep your house out of foreclosure. That’s why he took the job on TV. Not because he wanted the money for himself, but because he needed it for you. He kept sending her money, to help you go to college, and that’s what eventually gave her the courage to leave your stepdad. She tried to fix things with Zach when she was alive. It just never worked out.”

  “Then she tried. He didn’t.” He turned and faced her. “He could have come home at any time.”

  That’s what Dylan had always believed.

  Maybe he’d been wrong.

  There had been times when Ray had come down hard on Zach for stupid stuff. Zach had always taken it on the cuff and not acted like it was a big deal. And Zach had tried to contact Dylan. He’d been so angry at his brother, he’d never responded to the calls or letters.

  His mind flashed back to a few days before his mother had died. She’d been on morphine for the pain and calling Zach’s name over and over. He’d finally picked up the phone to call and tell Zach to get his ass back home, but he’d gotten a disconnect message. Man, how he’d hated his brother then for not being there.

  Their mother had squeezed Dylan’s hand. “Oh, Zach! I’m so sorry for what I did! So sorry, son. Please forgive me.”

  At the time, he’d assumed she’d been blaming herself again for driving Zach away. But maybe—?

  “Dylan.” Alexandra’s hand moved to his face. “Are you okay?”

  He felt the hot threat of tears behind his eyelids and moved away. “I’m fine. Is that all you wanted to say?” He rested his hands on his hips. Took a deep breath and faced her again.

  “You’re a good detective, Dylan. I just wish you could look at this information objectively, as if it were a case involving someone else. What would your gut tell you then?”

  That everything Alexandra had implied was true. That the stepfather had driven the older son away. That the mother had displayed signs of guilt throughout her life that had been mistaken for other emotions.

  “He waited years to get in touch with me, Alexandra. That part is all on Zach. That’s the part I’ve always had the hardest time forgiving.”

  “I don’t blame you. I’d be pissed too. You should give him hell about it. You deserve better.”

  He turned away and rubbed the back of his neck. His head needed to be in this Grim Reaper case. Not on old family problems or sexy female psychics determined to drive him to the grave.

  “Is my mother…still with you?”

  Silence. He turned again and looked at her. Alexandra was biting her lip. “Um, not at the moment. She’s been coming and going as she pleases.”

  He nodded. He didn’t know what to believe about that.

  “That’s not all I came here to talk about, Dylan.”

  He blew out a breath. She was changing the subject. Thank heavens.

  “Okay.”

  She took a step closer to him. “I wanted to talk about us.”

  Aw, hell. Talk about leaping out of the volcano and into the lava. She really wasn’t going to go there now, was she?

  One look at her face told him all he needed to know.

  She most certainly was.

  ***

  Alexandra took a step back, not at all certain she was ready for this, but crap, who was she kidding? She was here. She’d lose her nerve if she didn’t go ahead and get it out.

  She lifted her chin and met his wary gaze. “You hurt me, but you know what? You don’t really know me, so let me fill you in on some things so you won’t make that mistake again.”

  He didn’t turn away and seemed to be listening. Good.

  Crossing her arms, she moved toward him. “I get that you’re good-looking man who probably sleeps with every pretty little thing that bats her eyelashes at you, but I don’t normally fall into bed with every guy I meet.”

  A flush ran up his neck. His expression darkened. “I don’t sleep with—”

  “Just listen!” She pointed at him, and he shut up. “I’ve certainly never slept with your brother. I mean, gross. Totally not my type, thank you very much.” She shook her head and rotated on her heels. “And another thing, it’s your prerogative not to believe in what I can do, but I would never—ever, ever—pretend I could talk to someone’s dead mother unless I could. That’s just wrong.”

  She rounded on him again. “You know what else? I like dead people. I can talk to them better than I can living people. They’re usually pretty good listeners once they’ve forced you to listen to all of their crap. They don’t give half bad advice either. ”

  “Really?” His lips twitched.

  “Uh huh.” She turned back toward the wall and kept on with her pacing. “I also go to church. Not as much as I should, I’ll give you that, but I am not some freaking devil worshipper and you pissed me off when you implied I was. I even used to sing in the choir until I moved to Atlanta. Still haven’t found a new church there, by the way, but I’m working on it.”

  When she twirled and looked at him this time, at least he had the decency to look sheepish about questioning her faith. His eyes dropped to the floor.

  “Last thing.” She stepped up and poked his chest. “I like you. Maybe more than like you, and I don’t know what the heck to do about that because you keep pissing me off with your stupid assumptions about what kind of person I am. Plus, I’m not planning to stay and that’s a problem. Maybe not for you, since you’re a stud who probably can’t wait to jump into bed with the next —”

  He tugged her forward so fast, her words got lost in a gasp that he quickly swallowed with his mouth. His hot breath brushed her cheek when he pulled his lips away just as quickly.

  “Anyone ever told you that you make a lot of assumptions yourself?”

  Her breath hitched and she stiffened in his hold. He chuckled at her reaction, then thrust his tongue right back inside her pliant mouth. Oh, wow. He was good at that. So good. She curled her fingers into the silk of his hair, pulled him down, deeper, and lost herself in the sensation of his kiss. What had they been talking about? She had no idea.

  Shifting away, he used his lips and teeth to nibble a path down the column of her neck. Grabbing her ass, he lifted her and took them to the nearest wall.

  “I really like this dress.” His voice was raspy as he managed to tug the top half down, exposing her naked breasts. She was suddenly very grateful she’d
taken her bra off before coming here. “I like how you look in it.”

  “Really?” She was practically purring now. The man had barely kissed her and she was already ready for him. “Would have never guessed.”

  He blew a hot breath over one rigid nipple before tasting it. She was so distracted by that sensation she almost didn’t catch him sliding one of his hands between them, struggling to free his erection. She heard the rip of a zipper, felt her hips and legs jostled as he shoved his jeans down. Oh, my. Someone was in a hurry. Maybe she should have left her panties at the hotel too. He lifted her higher, sucked her breast inside the moist cavern of his mouth, and she groaned.

  “Dylan.”

  “Shhh.” His tongue tangled with hers again. She moaned and was practically breathless when he pulled away. “I need to be inside you. Now.”

  “Panting here. Pretty good sign I’m okay with that.” She’d be a hypocrite after calling him promiscuous if she let him go much further without, um, “Protection?”

  He laughed quietly against her neck then licked the shell of her ear. Pulling back for a second, he framed her face with both hands and met her gaze. He brushed the hair away from her cheek.

  “I don’t sleep around, Alexandra. I’m no monk, but I’m careful who I take to bed. Always careful to use something.”

  Why was he telling her this now? Trying to ruin the mood? Couldn’t he see how desperate she was for him at the moment? She tried to pull him closer, but he held back.

  “I don’t have any more condoms.”

  Oh. His gaze never left hers, but she could feel how hard he was against her. There were other ways of taking care of that little, er, big problem, but his husky plea haunted her. I need to be inside you. She needed him inside her, too. Like, soon.

  “One, I’m on the pill.” She pointed at her bag on the floor behind him. “Two, you left an unused condom beside my bed. I stuck it in my purse.”

  His eyes lit up with a happy, naughty gleam right along with his smile. He set her on her feet, swiped her purse from the floor, and watched as she fumbled like a virgin on prom night until she found it for him. Flicking her hair out of her face, she tossed the bag down with a clunk and yanked him forward again by the material of his shirt. She slid the condom into his hand as his mouth hovered over hers. “Only one. Better make it count.”

  A gasp stalled in her throat as he pressed her to the wall again, kissing her hard before pulling back again. He slid the condom on in record time.

  One of his very talented hands found its way up her dress, between them, his fingers teasing the skin at the edges of her underwear before sliding beneath, inside her.

  “Mmm, already wet.”

  No kidding. She wrapped one of her legs around the back of his thigh and pressed him into her. “Don’t stop.”

  “Like this?” He whispered the words against her lips, slipping his fingers under the elastic of her panties, inside her. Her head fell back against the wall as he drove hard against her clit.

  She was almost there when he jerked at the material at her hips, shoving the panties down and out of his way. His fingers bit into the back of her thighs as he lifted her higher. Her arms and legs knew exactly what to do. They held on tight as he positioned his cock at her opening and pushed inside. She bit her lip so hard, feeling him throbbing there, she almost drew blood.

  He shoved into her. She pushed back. On and on, they rocked together.

  “Dylan.” She breathed into his ear. “I’m almost there.”

  He drove harder until she came, and then answered her cry with a moan.

  Panting, he buried his face in her neck, squeezed his arms around her waist. “Man.” He lifted his head and kissed her. “I wasn’t lying. I’m safe.”

  “Better be.”

  His chuckle vibrated against her ear. “Did you really imply I was a man whore?”

  Heat crept into her face. “I was angry. I’m sorry. That was pretty…unforgivable.”

  “I wonder why I can’t ever seem to take things slow with you. For the record,” he lifted his gaze and met her own, “I like you too. More than I should.”

  “Oh.” She swallowed. “What are we gonna do about that?”

  His cell phone sang out the first strands of an annoying rock song. He groaned and pulled away from her, reaching to tug up his jeans. She found her feet but couldn’t seem to leave the support the wall offered her limbs. Completely satiated. That’s how she felt. A good, long nap would be Nutella.

  She straightened her clothes as Dylan snatched up his phone and shot her an apologetic look over his shoulder.

  He went still at whatever the person said. “Which one? Where?”

  Her happy mood began to evaporate. Oh no. Not another murder.

  He ended the call. “It’s Reedus.”

  “Reedus?” She’d seen him a couple of hours ago. He’d been on his way to talk to the medical examiner.

  Dylan moved past her. “He’s in the hospital. I’m sorry, Alexandra. I’ve got to go.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Here. Coffee?” Alexandra nudged Dylan’s shoulder with her elbow and indicated the extra cup she’d gotten for him from the vending machine.

  It was after midnight and it had been a long day. She was sure he needed the caffeine as much as she did to stay vertical at this point.

  Glancing up from the hospital’s waiting room seat, he smiled sheepishly and took the cup. “Thanks.”

  She reclaimed the chair beside him. “Relax. The doctor said he’d let us in to see him after they got him settled in his room.” Reedus had been ambulanced to the hospital after collapsing during his visit with the ME. When Dylan had gotten the call about it, Alexandra had assumed his partner had been the latest victim of the Grim Reaper, but not quite.

  “When he started coughing the other day, I told him to go to the doctor.” Dylan swore softly. “Pneumonia? Does it come on that fast? How did it get into his bloodstream?”

  Alexandra shrugged. She didn’t know. She’d never had the stuff, thankfully.

  She glanced around the waiting room sparsely decorated with people. One man had spread himself across a row of seats in a sort of makeshift bed. Another couple sat closer to the television. Since Reedus’s children lived outside the state, she and Dylan were his only visitors. Alexandra was glad she’d insisted on coming. Not only had she grown fond of the gruff older man, but it was obvious Dylan was uncomfortable being here. His knee bounced to some unheard rhythm, and every two minutes, he would shift in his seat. The only time he hadn’t seemed preoccupied with his thoughts was when his phone rang. It had been blowing up with calls from other officers seeking information throughout the night, so she expected the older detective would have a roomful of cops visiting him tomorrow.

  Alexandra reached out and placed her hand on top of his. He hates hospitals because they bring back bad memories of seeing his mother in one. It was as if someone had whispered the words to her, but she knew only she had heard them. And she knew they were right.

  Dylan turned his hand up and linked his fingers with hers. “I’m glad you came. Sorry you’re not getting any rest.”

  “I’m worried, too.”

  Several more nail-bitingly slow minutes passed before the lanky man in blue scrubs who’d identified himself as the doctor treating Reedus reappeared. “He needs his rest, but he did ask to see you before we turned you away,” the doctor told Dylan. “Try not to get him too excited.”

  The man led them to a two-bed room where Reedus was the only occupant. His complexion was pale and he looked more haggard than he had only a few hours ago. Hanging back in the doorway, Alexandra placed her hand on Dylan’s arm. “Why don’t I give you a few minutes with him? I’ll wait right here where you can see me.”

  His expression was so vulnerable when he met her gaze it almost broke her heart. His eyes looked sad and stressed. His mouth was pulled tight with worry. Oh, Dylan. He obviously cared for his partner a lot. “All right, but stay wh
ere I can see you.”

  She nodded and found a spot against the hallway wall to lean against. She cradled her coffee between her hands and smiled when Dylan made sure the curtain on the glass window looking into the room was pulled all the way back. She waved through the glass and winked at him. Nope. She had no plans to leave this spot.

  It was interesting how much you could learn about a person from their body movements when you were watching them. Dylan had his hands on his hips as he looked down at his partner. His forehead was crinkled. Every now and then he’d nod. In her experience, that pose meant the person was a good listener. That he was open and willing to hear what you had to say.

  “Alexandra King?”

  Alexandra started at the unexpected voice and turned to see a man in blue scrubs pointing and smiling at her.

  “You probably don’t remember me. I’m Dr. Jeffrey Watkins. I’m one of the medical examiners at MUSC. Last time I saw you, you were—”

  “Oh, right. I fainted on your floor.” Heat spread across her cheeks as she laughed self-consciously. Pushing away from the wall, she reached out her hand to formally introduce herself. “Yes, I’m Alexandra.”

  Instead of accepting the gesture, he stepped back and held up his hands. “Sorry. Probably don’t want to do that.” He gestured toward the room. “I was kind of in hurry to come check on Reedus, I can’t remember if I properly washed my hands if you know what I mean. You’re not the only person lately who’s passed out in my presence.”

  “Don’t take it personally. Doctor says he has pneumonia. Me, well, I’m just not good around blood.”

  He nodded and gave her kind of a funny look. “Yeah, I saw you on the news last night. Sorry. I had no idea who you were when you, uh, came to the autopsy room the other day.”

  A sour feeling started churning in Alexandra’s stomach. She didn’t know why exactly, but she knew it wasn’t because of anything she’d eaten. She tried to make herself more open to whatever was causing it, but nothing else was coming through. Was that stupid hex bag keeping her so closed to the other side she couldn’t pick up on anything?