Into the Dark (The Cincinnati Series Book 5) (Cincinnati 5)

by Karen Rose

  The shame was all he could see now, and it hurt his heart. ‘Dani, honey.’ He knew he shouldn’t touch her, but he couldn’t stop himself. He covered her hand with one of his and with the other he cupped her cheek. ‘Brandi would have been using whether or not you brought the dealer to your house. Granted, that was not a wise thing to do, but you were sixteen. We all did foolish things at that age.’

  He himself had been busy starting fights and vandalizing the belongings of innocent people when he’d been sixteen. There had been . . . extenuating circumstances, true, but he’d done it, all the while knowing he was doing wrong.

  ‘I know that,’ she hissed, but she didn’t pull away. ‘But I let Deacon carry the blame for that for all these years. That is not nice. That is not what nice people do, Diesel. And it’s not the only bad thing I’ve done.’

  Ah. This was merely exhibit one in her campaign to make him believe that she wasn’t worthy of him. He was a little afraid to hear exhibit two. And if there was an exhibit three, he was going to need a drink.

  ‘Did you try to tell Deacon?’ he asked.

  She frowned. ‘Yes, of course, but . . .’

  His brows lifted. ‘But?’

  ‘He was busy blaming himself,’ Dani admitted. ‘So I let him.’

  ‘Do you really think he would have blamed himself less if you’d told him?’

  She dropped her gaze to his hand. Then leaned into the hand that cupped her face. ‘No. Probably not.’

  ‘And maybe you should have tried harder.’ He stroked her cheek with his thumb, catching a tear that fell. ‘But you were grieving, too. And then you were busy taking care of Greg and going to school. And you were stuck with Jim, while Deacon got away. I think you more than paid your debt to the family in general.’

  More tears fell. He wiped them away tenderly and that made her cry harder.

  ‘You shouldn’t be nice to me, dammit. Why are you so damn nice?’

  He sighed. ‘Because I like you too much to be mean. Trust me, I can be a real SOB when I want to.’

  ‘When?’ she demanded. ‘When you’re volunteering all over town? When you’re coaching children in Pee Wee so that they can have a good male role model? When you’re putting yourself in legal jeopardy hacking into assholes’ computers so that you can keep them from hurting their families by ruining them on the front page of the Ledger? When are you an SOB, Diesel? When?’

  He exhaled. ‘Well, I curse at telemarketers. Especially the ones who tell me that they work for Microsoft and that my computer needs fixing.’

  She stared at him for a long moment. Then snorted. ‘No fair making me laugh.’

  He grinned. ‘It worked, didn’t it?’

  Her smile disappeared, and she pulled free. ‘No. It just delayed the inevitable.’

  Diesel sighed. ‘All right. Hit me with exhibit two.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘I’m being serious.’

  He met her eyes soberly. ‘So am I. Tell me, Dani. Tell me why I shouldn’t care about you. Tell me why I shouldn’t fall in love with you.’

  She sucked in a startled breath. ‘Diesel.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m tired of pining away like a lovesick teenager. I’m putting it on the table.’

  ‘You can’t love me.’

  ‘Not right now, because – as you’ve so succinctly established – I don’t know you. But I believe I could.’ He gestured with his hand. ‘Bring it on, Dr Novak.’

  She huffed angrily. ‘You are a frustrating man.’

  ‘I know,’ he said dryly. But she was still here, so he hadn’t fucked it up yet.

  She cocked her jaw. ‘Adrian.’

  He swallowed. ‘Your lover. Who died.’ He managed a calm nod even though everything inside of him wanted to lash out at the man she still . . . what? Loved?

  ‘He was my fiancé.’

  Diesel blinked. That was unexpected. ‘So, more than a lover.’

  ‘Yes. Another thing I never told Deacon.’

  He tilted his head at that. ‘Why didn’t you?’

  ‘Because he wouldn’t have approved, and then Adrian was dead.’ She pursed her lips. ‘And I was HIV positive, so telling him that my fiancé had given it to me made me look even stupider than if I’d gotten it doing drugs or making a mistake with a casual boyfriend, which is what I did tell them. Deacon, Greg, and Adam, I mean.’

  Diesel shook his head. ‘Wait. I missed something. Maybe several things.’ He ran his palm over his head, felt the stubble scratch his skin. ‘First, saying you were stupid is victim-shaming. Would you do that to a patient?’

  ‘No, but—’

  He held up his hand. ‘No buts. You were not stupid. Especially since contracting HIV from someone you should have been able to trust wasn’t stupidity. It was a betrayal.’

  A muscle in her jaw twitched. ‘You don’t know the details.’

  He’d hit a nerve, he could see. ‘Maybe not, but you were engaged, right?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her chin lifted. ‘I told you that already.’

  ‘Just establishing the logic. If you were engaged, you trusted him, yes?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  He pressed his finger to her lips. ‘Stop. Yes, you trusted him. Did you ask him his status? Yes or no, Dani.’

  She nodded silently.

  ‘Okay, good. Did he tell you he was negative?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said against his finger, then pulled his hand away. ‘But I never asked to see proof.’

  ‘Why should you have?’ he asked, exasperated. ‘You trusted him. You loved him enough to agree to marry him.’ And for that alone, he hated the bastard. ‘You shouldn’t have needed proof. What’s really wrong, Dani? Because none of this makes sense. You’re too smart to blame yourself for contracting HIV.’

  Her eyes narrowed again. ‘I’m not smart enough to have avoided contracting it to begin with.’

  ‘That sounds like your uncle talking,’ he snapped. He’d guessed, but he knew he was right when she flinched. ‘He said that to you, didn’t he?’

  She visibly sagged. ‘Yeah, he did. Many, many times.’

  ‘And we’ve already established that he is a fucking SOB.’ Who I want to tear limb from limb. But he didn’t say it, because she thought he was nice. On second thought . . . ‘I want to kill your uncle with my bare hands. Does that make me nice?’

  ‘It makes you protective,’ she said calmly. ‘So, yes. Nice.’

  He threw up his hands. ‘For God’s sake, Dani. What is really bothering you, because so far you’re just blowing smoke up my ass.’

  Anger flared in her eyes. ‘It’s my fault Adrian died, okay?’

  Seventeen

  Cincinnati, Ohio

  Monday, 18 March, 1.05 A.M.

  Michael jerked awake, knowing instantly that something wasn’t right. He’d felt the floor move – just a small movement, but enough to wake him. This was why he’d slept next to Joshua’s bed. If someone came after his little brother in the night, he’d know.

  He didn’t really expect anyone to come after Joshua. At least, he hadn’t last night when Coach had been downstairs, asleep on the sofa. He trusted the big man whose skin was covered with tattoos. But tonight there were others in the house, and Michael didn’t know them. He didn’t completely trust them.

  Although he knew Coach did. So he didn’t leap from where he lay on the floor. But he did open his eyes a slit. And stiffened. A man stood in the doorway, his face and body in shadow.

  It wasn’t Greg. Michael had been aware that Greg had checked on them earlier in the evening. So had Dr Dani. He’d smelled the chocolate of her shampoo. But the man standing there was taller than Greg, and a lot more muscular.

  The man didn’t move for the longest time. Just stood there, looking at them.

  Michael grew tenser with each second that
passed. Carefully, he slid his hand along the floor, reaching for the knife he’d hidden under Joshua’s bed. It was a simple steak knife from the silverware drawer in Dani’s kitchen, but it was sharp enough to do some damage. Especially if the man wasn’t expecting it.

  After a few more seconds that felt like years, the man sat on the floor just outside Joshua’s room, leaning his back against the door jamb. His face was visible for a split second as he moved. It was Marcus, the guy who owned the newspaper. The guy who’d gotten Michael a lawyer with a fancy suit who worked for free. The guy who was Coach’s best friend.

  According to Greg, Coach and Marcus had served in the war together. The two were shot at by the enemy and Coach took the bullet intended for Marcus.

  Michael hoped it was true. He wanted to believe that Coach was a legit hero. He wanted to believe that the two men were best friends – and that they were both good. He let out the breath he’d been holding, hoping that Marcus couldn’t hear the frantic beating of his heart.

  He watched as Marcus sat patiently, quietly. And then Scarlett came to sit beside him. Marcus put his arm around her shoulders and together they . . .

  They guarded them. That was what they were doing. They’re watching over us. Because the man who’d killed Brewer was still out there.

  Michael didn’t think anyone was getting by Marcus. Or especially not by his wife, Scarlett. She was a cop. A homicide detective, even. A real badass, again according to Greg, who was a fountain of information.

  Slowly, Michael’s heart resumed a normal rhythm. Sliding the knife into its hiding place, he let himself go back to sleep.

  Bridgetown, Ohio

  Monday, 18 March, 1.20 A.M.

  Diesel drew in a slow breath. Slowly, he flattened his hands on the table. ‘How was Adrian’s death your fault?’

  Pain mixed with the anger in Dani’s gut. ‘He was a big guy. Covered in tats.’

  Diesel was quiet for a beat. ‘Like me.’

  She nodded, her lips twisting into a smile that was both rueful and bitter at once. ‘Apparently I have a type. Big, bad bald guys with tats. I wanted you from the first moment you walked into my clinic.’ When he’d stared at her face, then panicked at her white coat and stumbled backward through the door to the street.

  ‘I looked like a crazy man.’

  ‘No.’ She smiled sadly. ‘You’d bent down to talk to a little boy with such gentleness. I knew you were nice.’

  ‘Too nice for you?’ Maybe he was finally getting it.

  ‘Yeah. But you have the whole bad boy thing going on.’ She waved her hand, indicating his body. And tats. And bald head.

  He attempted a smile. ‘I can grow my hair back.’

  She huffed a chuckle, shaking her head. ‘Diesel.’

  ‘Dani,’ he replied, levity gone. ‘Tell me about him so we can put it behind us.’

  Her eyes shot to his. ‘Put it behind us? I told you that it’s my fault that he’s dead and you say that we’ll put it behind us?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said firmly. ‘Talk. Where did you meet him?’

  She glared at him. ‘In the ER. I was a resident. He’d ripped up his knee when he fell off his Harley. He was accompanied by a cop.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘He was under arrest,’ she snapped. ‘For forging a prescription.’

  He didn’t react at all. ‘Why?’

  She blinked at him. ‘Why what?’

  ‘You wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone who was hurting people. Why did Adrian forge a prescription?’

  Her shoulders slumped. ‘You’re not going to see me as anything other than nice, are you?’

  ‘Probably not. Tell me, Dani. If this has kept us apart for eighteen months when we’ve both wanted each other, then I deserve to know.’

  ‘You’re right.’ He was. So she’d make herself tell this story that she’d never told another soul. ‘He was a recovering addict. Like Stone. Only he didn’t have a lot of money like the O’Bannions. He’d gotten help from a church-run rehab program in St Louis. He volunteered there for years afterward. Up until he died.’

  ‘So he was a nice guy, too?’ Diesel asked wryly.

  She shot him a pointed stare. ‘Yes. He was. He was always helping at the church, building things. He made blocks for the kids to play with, because the church didn’t have the money for toys. One of the kids in the shelter run by the church got sick. Really sick. She needed medicine, but her mom didn’t have insurance or the money to pay for the drugs. The pharmacist had turned her away. Adrian did have insurance. So he forged a prescription for the medicine, with his name as the patient. It wasn’t a narcotic, which let him plead down to a misdemeanor. He took the deal and served six months.’

  Diesel studied her face. ‘You took the kid her medicine, didn’t you?’

  Stunned, she nodded. ‘I did. How did you know?’

  ‘Because I’ve watched you for months. I know you better than you think I do. You could have lost your residency had you been caught,’ he observed.

  ‘It was worth it.’

  He smiled. ‘See? Nice.’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘Adrian came by after he got out of jail. The nuns had told him what I did and he came to thank me. One thing led to another and . . .’ She shrugged. ‘I was a goner.’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell your family about him?’

  She scoffed. ‘After Brandi, I was bringing home an addict? With a record? No way. I knew what Jim would do. I wasn’t going to let that happen. Not to Adrian.’

  ‘So how was it your fault, Dani? Because I don’t believe it was.’

  She huffed. ‘We’d been together for two years when he had another motorcycle accident. Put him in the hospital this time, not just a trip to the ER. He had a concussion and a broken arm. They tested him for HIV because he needed surgery for the arm.’

  ‘And he came back positive.’

  ‘Not just positive. He had AIDS.’

  His eyes widened. ‘He’d had it for a while then.’

  She nodded. ‘And because we were engaged, and I was on the pill, we’d stopped using protection. The doctor told me to get tested.’

  ‘And you were positive, too.’

  She nodded wearily. ‘I was . . . shocked. I mean, Adrian had told me he was negative, and he believed that. But I asked if he’d been tested, and he said he had.’

  Diesel frowned. ‘Didn’t they test him when he came to the ER?’

  ‘No. I wondered the same thing once I found out our status, so I went back into the system and checked his records. He’d refused to consent to the test.’

  Diesel clenched his teeth. ‘He lied to you.’

  She looked up at him. ‘Yes. I was really angry. I wanted to hurt him. I felt so powerless. I should have waited until I’d calmed down to see him. I had no business visiting him when I was so angry, but I did. And I said some horrible, hurtful things. Called him terrible names. Accused him of infecting me on purpose. Then I slapped his face and called him a killer. All while he lay in a hospital bed, recovering from surgery. I slapped an AIDS patient.’

  ‘You slapped the man who lied to you. I think your anger was justified.’

  ‘Ugh.’ She wanted to throttle him. ‘Of course my anger was justified, but not what I did when I was under its influence.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I was like Jim.’

  Diesel made a strangled sound. ‘You are nothing like him. Were you sorry?’

  ‘Afterward, yes. Of course I was. I tried to apologize, but Adrian wouldn’t see me. I’d hurt him too much.’

  Understanding finally dawned in his eyes. Finally. ‘And you think you’ll lash out and hurt me like you hurt him.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said, relieved. ‘You get it now?’

  ‘I get that you were upset and said things you didn’t mean. I get that you tried to apologi
ze and he sulked.’

  Dani clenched her hands into fists. ‘Goddammit, Diesel.’

  He shrugged. ‘How did you kill him?’

  ‘I never said I killed him. I said it was my fault that he was dead.’ She drew a breath, the memory of that day playing in her mind. ‘He committed suicide.’

  ‘How did he do it?’ he asked calmly. ‘Gun to his head so that you’d be the one to find him?’

  It was close enough to the truth to stun her into speechlessness. ‘No,’ she finally whispered. ‘He drove his motorcycle off a cliff in California. Into the ocean.’

  Diesel’s face maintained an outward calm but his dark eyes were snapping with fury. ‘Did he make a video and send it you?’

  She shook her head slowly, stunned even more that he’d guessed almost exactly right. ‘No video. He bought me a plane ticket and asked me to come out to be with him. Said he’d always wanted to see the Pacific coast, so he was driving the length of it before he died. He said that he wanted to share it with me. Said he forgave me.’

  Diesel tilted his head back so that he stared at the ceiling. ‘He forgave you.’

  It sounded wrong when he said it that way. ‘Yes. So I went. We talked it over. Rode up the coast and marveled at the views. I rode with him and it was like old times. Just the two of us. And then he pulled off to a scenic overlook, we got off the bike, and he kissed me. It was the first time he’d touched me like that since I’d arrived. I’d hugged him around the waist while we’d been on the bike, but that was all. He gave me a letter and told me not to open it until “after”. I asked him what he meant, but he didn’t answer. He got back on his bike and drove away. I thought he’d abandoned me at first. I opened the letter, but it was only one sentence: Tell the search and recovery team to wear gloves. Then he came thundering back. He’d picked up a lot of speed.’

  A muscle twitched in Diesel’s jaw. ‘He drove off the cliff in front of you.’

  Dani nodded numbly, remembering it all in vivid, technicolor detail. ‘He never even tried to stop. The drop was eighty-five feet.’

  Diesel drew in a breath. ‘This is what you call your fault?’

  He’s angry. Good. ‘He left another letter at the hotel where I’d left my luggage. He said that he might have tried to fight for us if I hadn’t betrayed him when he was in the hospital. That I’d killed him as sure as if I’d shot him with a gun.’