See No Evil

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See No Evil Page 11

by Kendra Mei Chailyn


  At one point a car backfired and he pushed his body before hers. That took her breath away. He was a man that wanted to protect her with his life and Priety had never had that before.

  That night as they showered together, he was so tender. She sobbed and pressed her face to his wet chest. He took her hair in his hands and washed it with care. Luke kissed her senseless, turned her gently to face the wall and entered her slowly from behind. Priety was in heaven. She arched backward into Luke’s hard body.

  She cried out to him and he answered by kissing her ear, nipping at her neck and raking his fingers softly over her back. By the time they were both over the moon, the colored powder from the day’s festivities was gone and the two stumbled, still wet from their shower, onto the bed.

  * * * *

  Luke spent the whole night, after Priety went to sleep, thinking of ways to catch his first ever serial killer but nothing came to mind. Most of the night was spent thinking of Priety in a way that caused his heart to race and his pajamas to tighten, and then guilt washed over him like the plague.

  He used the night to decide where to go the next day. He needed some perspective on things, to sum up everything that happened up until that moment in time. He had fallen for someone involved in one of his cases. He always prized himself on being objective, cold and no-nonsense when it came to the women that were involved in any way with his work. Priety had something that intoxicated him.

  Priety moaned and snuggled into his chest and Luke couldn't help himself. He bowed his head and kissed her head and then her ear lobe before resting back against the bed wondering how many ways he had just complicated things by not being able to resist her. It wasn't that she forced herself on him and he was weak; it was that he wanted to so much but was afraid. After they made love he thought about leaving her before she could hurt him but something was inside of him telling him not to. Something, inside, told him she was different from all the others and Luke wanted to stay around and see what that something was.

  Luke glanced at the bedside clock and frowned; it was way past midnight and it began to dawn on him that he was not going to get any sleep. He started thinking about the last time he had a good night's sleep and no date could come to mind.

  With a sigh he moved away from Priety and stuck his feet out of the bed. “Luke?” Priety's sleepy voice called and he turned to see her sitting up. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, sweetie, go back to bed.”

  He watched as she pulled the sheet up to her chest and arched a brow at him. “I may be all groggy from what you did to me last night and still a bit sleepy but I'm not an idiot. Talk to me.”

  Luke sighed and walked over to the window to glare out at the darkness with contempt. “I am all out of fight, Priety,” he whispered.

  He turned his head to see her pushing her feet out of bed, wrapping her naked body with the black satin sheets. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled her body close to his. “You can't give up, Luke. I need you.”

  “What does that mean? Does it mean you want me to save you? Does it mean you want me to love you and care for you?”

  The silence between them seemed to last forever before she spoke. “All of the above.”

  “I don't want to hurt you, Priety... the last woman...”

  He heard her intake of breath as she pulled away from him and stepped around to face him. She leaned against the window looking up into his dark eyes. Reaching up she touched his cheek and he couldn’t help but give in to the urge to turn his lips to press a kiss into her palm.

  “I am not like the last woman you've been with, Luke. I am me and I can only give you so much. I have no money, no power, no stature and I barely graduated high school. It is too soon to be talking about forever. Don't you think?”

  “So you don't want me that way?”

  Luke didn’t want her to feel as though he was trying to force her but the questions he was asking were necessary. They were painful for her, he could tell for her eyes glazed over with raw emotions. But in order for him to heal, he had to get them out.

  “I want you in every way imaginable,” she told him. “But your eyes tell me that you want to run.”

  Luke gripped her shoulders and pulled her into his chest. The sheets fell to the ground to puddle at her feet. Her arms were now wrapped tightly around his neck. “I promise to try and be a good man to you,” he whispered against the side of her head. “I promise to at least try not letting my work or the fears of getting hurt again take control.” His fingers sank into her long, flowing hair and he moaned, “ So help me I want you.”

  The kiss was hungry and Luke felt like he couldn’t breathe without her. He only meant to kiss her but there was no such thing. Picking her up, he kept his lips fused to hers, his tongue moved against hers. Her legs wrapped around him tightly and he moved them to the bed, placing her down on her back. Luke ate from her neck, the swells of her breasts and against her shoulders. He growled as her nails dragged down his back.

  He made a trail down her body, stopping to lick against her ribcage, her belly button. He could smell her arousal and his mouth watered. He gripped her knees and pulled her legs apart.

  “Luke,” she panted.

  He had to taste her. Her body arched, her hands found the back of his head pressing him deeper into her. He didn’t complain. He feasted from her, taking great pleasure in her taste, her scent, her. She was delicious. “Priety,” he growled.

  Her legs tightened.

  Licking his lips, he rose over her body and looked down at her face. She smiled at him through half closed lashes. But he wasn’t finished yet. He found her entrance and sank within her.

  * * * *

  Priety’s eyes shot open. No matter how many times she made love with Luke Stanton, he still managed to completely satisfy her. He made her body boil, her eyes roll into her head and sent her senses flying. She used her body to beg him for more and he responded. She licked her lips, dug her nails into his back and arched into his body. She felt her body shattering around him once more and she welcomed it. She heard him growl. His face was now pressed against her neck, his tongue lashing her heated flesh. Her mouth fell against his unhurt shoulder and let her teeth sink into it.

  He yelled in pleasure and she felt him explode. She slumped into the bed, panting for air and he slipped on top of her, breathing in her scent and pressing her sweetly into the bed.

  * * * *

  The ringing telephone woke Priety and instantly she had a smile on her face. Luke was with her holding her against his chest. “Luke?” she whispered before pressing a kiss to his pulse.

  She giggled when he moaned. “Luke, your cell phone is ringing.”

  She watched as his hand snaked out and grabbed the silver phone from the bedside table. “Stanton,” he groaned with his eyes still closed.

  Suddenly his body tensed against her and his eyes flew open, “Uh-huh...I'll be there...”

  “What?” Priety questioned sitting up.

  “I have to go to a meeting.” Luke moved from the bed as though she had the plague and she pulled the sheets up to her chest as she sat up.

  “Okay, let me get dressed.”

  “You're not going,” Luke let out on a breath. “Keep the doors and windows locked. Don't answer the door for anyone.” He pressed the cell phone into her hands and she curled her fingers around it. “Only answer this phone.”

  “Luke, you can't just leave me here!” Priety exclaimed and wrapping the sheets around her body she rushed for the door where he stood. Luke turned and gripped her shoulders. Automatically Priety lifted her lips to him. When he kissed her, she felt her heart soar again.

  “I'll be back as soon as I can,” he promised. “My number at the precinct is programmed under speed-dial seven on my cell and if you have to use the house phone, hit speed dial seven on that as well.”

  Priety clung to him long after he had let her go. “Priety, sweetie? You have to let me go...”

  Sighing, she s
tole another kiss and locked the door behind him before pressing her back to it. Never in a million years did she think she would be in danger, running from a deranged killer and at the same time fall hard for the one man who was set to protect her. Then again she always thought she would marry an Indian husband and do all the things that were dictated to her by her culture. Luke was the opposite of that. Luke was the tall piece of chocolate that stormed her life and left her defenseless against his kisses, his touch, even a look from him.

  The way he looked at her just caused her to lose all control and melt to his wishes. His brown eyes turned from brown to hot liquid. They resembled the sky during a thunderstorm. When his eyes got like that she could tell exactly what he was thinking.

  He reminded her of a sexy lover from the romance novels she stopped reading years ago. Walking back into the bed room, she stripped the sheets from her body, placed fresh sheets on the bed, and scooped the used ones up. Without even getting dressed, she dumped them into the laundry and started the washer before heading back and getting dressed in a pair of jeans that once belonged to Luke—when he was a lanky kid—and an over-sized dress shirt that he now wore. She giggled as the sleeves fell down over her fingers. She lifted her arm to sniff at the shirt for his scent.

  A faint scent of Arctic Breeze aftershave caught her senses sending them into a frenzy.

  Chapter Twelve

  Unease flooded his body as he drove through the streets and every time he came to a stop light he felt like screaming. That same nagging feeling he felt, before the serial killer started on his rounds, came back and he bit down on his tongue to try and feel something. There was a little sting and he opened his mouth before closing it again. His fingers gripped the steering wheel tightly as he tried to navigate through the morning traffic.

  He didn't like the idea of leaving Priety alone but what else could he do? He couldn't keep bringing her along with him everywhere he went. It wasn’t fair to her and what if they never caught the killer? The thought caused Luke to tighten his jaw resulting in a sharp grinding sound as his teeth pressed together. The thought of never catching that monster made him sick to his stomach and angry as hell.

  He shoved his hand down over the horn as someone cut him off and then slowed down almost causing him to slam into their back. The man flipped him the bird and hurry or not, Luke stuck his siren on his dash and pulled the man over. He generated a ticket from the small computer in his dash board then slowly walked over to the man's window. “Here you go, courtesy of the Edison PD,” Luke told the man bitterly while handing him a ticket. He hardly ever had to do that anymore but the jerk got on his nerves. “Have a marvelous day, Punk.” He knew his voice was dripping with sarcasm but Luke couldn't care less.

  He hurried back to his vehicle and sped off again but this time he left the siren on.

  Rushing into the station house, he signed in and took off for Chen's office. It struck him as odd that Chen wasn't there yelling into his phone but he only dwelled on that for a second. He was frowning as he saw the man sitting in Chen's chair. That was the last person he ever wanted to see again.

  “And they said this day couldn't possibly get any worse,” he muttered before pushing open the door.

  Walking into the office he let his tired body fall into a chair across from his chief's desk. “This better be important,” he growled.

  “Detective Stanton,” the man spoke to Luke.

  “Where's the Chief?” Luke wanted to know instead of answering the man's greetings.

  “Miss me?”

  “Like hemorrhoids.”

  “What? No, oh it's you...no, up yours Larson?” Christopher Larson, Internal Affairs and giant jerk extraordinaire teased, but Luke was beyond jokes, he was in a hurry.

  “See? Normally I would have been in the mood to play your little games, but today isn't one of those days. What do you want?”

  Christopher Larson had been a giant pain in Luke's side since the first day Luke made detective. It was as though Larson was waiting on that very day to start flexing his proverbial muscles. He probably took Luke for a sucker who didn't know much about the force but Luke had friends—and family—in high places and all the little tricks Larson thought Luke didn't know, Luke mastered by age seventeen.

  Luke hated show-offs, teacher's pets and know-it-alls. Nothing grated on his nerves more than a man who talked too much and not say anything at all.

  “Well, your chief couldn't be here. He said something about leave of absence as he gunned the engine of his Lancer out the parking lot; so he asked me to stand in for him and IA is looking into some allegations of a leak here so they sent me. I'm filling in until Chen gets back.”

  “And I care because...”

  “We know the leak didn't come from you. There is no risk in telling you because you seem to know how to keep your mouth shut.”

  Luke stood up and turned for the door when Larson's voice stopped him cold, “I have some information for you.”

  “Well?”

  Larson handed the folder to Luke. “They've managed to recover the data that got fried on Jacob's computer.”

  Luke hurriedly flipped it open and scanned the contents.

  “Did you see this?”

  Larson shook his head.

  Luke returned his attention to the contents of the folder. He read the information before him and tilted his head. Picking up the first picture he arched a brow. It was a sketch artist rendering of something that resembled a shark jumping through a ring of fire. Frowning he turned the picture to Larson. “What's this?”

  “A tattoo,” Larson spoke. “We spoke to a witness over on Lombardi that said a man with that tattoo bought a hunting knife from him a few months ago. Real high end too.”

  “So the bastard's got style,” Luke spat. “Thanks for this.” Luke dropped the picture back into the folder and hurried from the room while tossing a half-hearted wave over his shoulder.

  Pushing into the office for Trace, he dropped the file down on the desk. “Find out who this belongs to. Fax me a copy at my place.”

  “But...” Mitch Clemons started to object.

  “As of now, this is your only project. Got that?”

  “Got it...ah before you go, I had some stuff faxed over to me by some guy named Larson just now. He said you might be interested in it.”

  Briefly Luke wondered how Larson knew he would be heading to Trace but shook his head and leaned his tired body against a large filing cabinet. “What is it?”

  “He sent me the autopsy reports on the victims from your Ojo Killer.”

  “And?” Luke asked in a voice sounding like a bear that had been poked one too many times.

  “And each of the victims had black sand in the wounds,” Mitch explained as his fingers typed away at his keyboards. “Before you say and again. There's only one place in Edison or surrounding counties that you can find black sand.”

  “Brair Beach!” Luke stared at the computer over Mitch's shoulder.

  “Give the man a cookie!”

  “But that's in the ghettos. These women were middle and upper class they wouldn’t be caught dead in the ghettos—forgive the pun.”

  “Uh-huh,” Mitch nodded. “But it still remains that you're looking for someone from there or someone who would have a reason to be there for an extended amount of time.” “It could be anyone living there and that place is huge!” Luke ran a hand over his head. He didn’t have time to shave and his head showed some growth of hair. “Let's think about this.”

  Luke stewed over this new set of information for a while and paced the limited space permitted in the lab. “The sand was found in the gunshot wounds?”

  Mitch nodded again.

  “Ballistics report?” Luke questioned.

  Mitch rolled across the small space, narrowly missing Luke's toes, to a beeping printer and grabbed the printout, “A Taurus Twenty Four Seven,” he read. “The striations match a Taurus but it didn't match anything in our database.”

>   Taking the paper from his hand, Luke read the report. Particles of sand were found on the bullets, the gun had small traces of rust. “Surprise, surprise the gun isn't registered. Thanks, Mitch.”

  “Oh wait!” Mitch yelled as one of his many screens in the room beeped. Luke turned around to see Mitch picking up a piece of paper.

  “Ah, we didn't find out who the tattoo belonged to, but we found out who did it.”

  “Even better,” Luke grinned and walked over.

  “Death Star Designs over on Lombardi.”

  Thanking the young lab tech, Luke left the labs and once again sat in his office rummaging through his desk.

  “Where are you?” he muttered. Something on the file had caught his attention. He was sure he had seen that tattoo before.

  Chapter Thirteen

  The pictures in her head came out of nowhere. Everything from her parents' death to the crime she witnessed and then nightmares she had all her life, all mangled into one. To soothe her were memories of Luke and how loving he was to her after they made love. Images of the storm that captured his eyes and completely whispered to her soul made her moan.

  Priety moaned and remembered she had to finish folding the laundry and then finish dinner. “Dinner! Oh no! The stove is on!” She moved her feet to run to the kitchen but something stopped her. She tried to bend forward to see what was around her ankles but her arms were restrained. Panicking she yanked but nothing happened. The cuffs just started digging into her wrists.

  “What the...” she started but then it dawned on her.

  “You have caused me so much trouble,” the voice spoke out of the darkness to her left and she gasped. The voice was cold and heartless but it sounded different than the one from the tape. The one on the tape was obviously altered to hide the man's voice and identity; she was hearing the real voice.

  “You have interrupted something that was supposed to be fun for me and so help me I'm going to make all of you pay!”

 

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