Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
DEAN
M y world comes to a screeching halt. Did he just say what I think he said? Juliette’s jaw is slack. She looks as surprised as I am.
“What do you mean by that?” I ask.
The tone of my voice is harsh, but I can’t help it.
“Arnie Collins, aka Arnold Peso Kwazii, is a serial killer. He targets single moms.”
“Why the fuck is he still on the streets? Why hasn’t he been caught?”
“Because he doesn’t stay in one country. Interpol has been tracking him for a long time.”
“Fuck,” I sigh.
This is worse than I thought. So much worse. Arnie has gone from an annoyance by my side to the top of my kill list. My hands ball into fists. What would’ve happened to Juliette and PJ if I hadn’t come back?
“What happens to the kids?” Juliette asks.
Her voice is so quiet, it’s barely there. She’s sifting through the case files, but I can tell she’s not paying them any mind.
“Same thing,” Keith answers. “We don’t know why Arnie does it, but he’s been doing it for a long time now.”
“How long?”
“A decade, at least. That’s when the first woman was found in Italy. Her son washed up a few weeks later.”
Juliette breaks down at that. She starts to sob, reaching out for me as fresh tears spill down her face. I push away the happiness bubbling up inside me and pull her into my arms. She’s so upset; I can’t enjoy the fact that she reached for me.
Kane clears his throat as if to remind us he’s still here. “So the children are showing up weeks after their mothers?”
“That’s how it’s been so far,” Keith replies.
“Do they show up with signs of abuse?” Kane presses.
The agent shakes his head but doesn’t say anything else, which I understand. It’s not like we’re law enforcement. They don’t have to tell us anything.
“Now, what I find interesting,” Agent O’Donnell continues, “is the fire. In all the other attacks, fire was never used.”
“We don’t think it was Arnie,” I reply. “He was in the hospital with guards.”
“Yes, I know. I’ve been by to see him.”
“You don’t think he’s working alone,” Kane says.
“A killer successfully evading police in this day and age? With all the resources we have? There’s no way he’s doing it alone.” Keith fixes his eyes on Juliette. “Did he ever mention any friends or something like that?”
Juliette tilts her head as if she has to think very seriously about it. “No, I mean, not really. He wanted us to go visit his parents two weeks ago. Uh,” she pauses. “Wait, a few weeks after we started dating, he said something about someone named Kay. When I asked who that was, he seemed surprised that he had said the name at all. Arnie told me he was a work buddy.”
The cop writes the information down in his small notebook, grumbling as his pen scratches along the lined paper. Juliette lifts her head from my shoulder. It’s a punch in the gut to see the slow tears streaking down her beautiful face. I wish I could take her pain from her. I’d shoulder it in a heartbeat if I could. Someone as amazing as her should never know pain like this.
“I’ll get to work on finding this Kay person,” Officer O’Donnell says, clicking his pen. “In the meantime, if Arnie contacts you or you think of something else, just give me a call.”
He slides a card across the table toward Juliette, but she doesn’t reach for it. She’s frozen in her chair. Stunned by everything, it’s almost like she’s not here at all. My arm is still wrapped around her shoulders. I don’t think it’s offering any comfort anymore, but I’m not moving. I’m going to hold her for as long as she lets me.
I reach for the agent’s card and agree to call him if Juliette thinks of something else. Keith takes his cue and leaves with Kane following him out.
“You okay, baby?” I ask.
My voice breaks whatever trance she was in.
“I’m so stupid,” she whispers.
Anger spears through me—not at her, but at her words. Her thoughts. How could she ever think about herself?
“I’ll take that as a no,” I sigh.
As much as I hate to, I release Juliette. Placing my hand on the arm of her chair, I twist it toward me. Juliette’s teary eyes stare at my chest instead of me. She looks so small in this moment. So fucking sad that I can’t stand it. I want to kill Arnie for doing this to her, and one day soon, I will.
I hook a finger beneath her chin and drag her gaze up to mine. When she closes her eyes, I almost bark out a laugh. Six years may have passed and so much has changed, but Juliette will always be my stubborn baby girl.
“Look at me, Bluebird.”
Slowly, she opens them. Her red-rimmed eyes are like windows. Every emotion she’s feeling is crystal clear. She’s sad, but it’s more than that—she feels guilty. I don’t like that.
“What Arnie has done is not your fault,” I grit out. “Get those thoughts out of your head right now.”
Juliette shakes her head. “I’m a mother, and I let that man near my son. So many things could’ve happened. What kind of mother does that, Dean?”
“You didn’t know,” I tell her. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I didn’t even like him,” she confesses. “I stayed with him because PJ thought he hung the moon.”
“I knew it,” I smile. “I fucking knew it. A weasel like Arnie has never been your type. Plus, he smelled like he bathes in peppermint bark. You hate peppermints.”
She squints her eyes at me. “How do you know that?”
“Because I know you.”
Cupping her face, I wipe away her tears with my thumbs. Sparks ignite beneath my rough skin. Juliette’s sweet little gasp goes straight to my cock. But now is not the time for that.
“It doesn’t change anything,” she replies, sniffling. “I let him keep coming around. He’s hurt so many people. Children.”
“Hey, don’t do that. Their blood is on his hands, not yours. Don’t carry his crimes. He doesn’t deserve the favor.”
Tears spill down her cheek. There are so many my thumbs can’t catch them all. She’s spiraling fast. Nothing I’m saying is going to keep her from falling down that dizzy staircase. I need to do something else. Now.
So I do the only thing I can think of. I pull her closer to me and kiss her like my life depends on it. She doesn’t hit me like I expect. Her body stays rigid for three seconds before melting into my kiss. She needs this. Whether she wants it or not remains to be seen.
Juliette whimpers as I slide my tongue into her mouth. I fucking missed that sound. I missed this. I missed her. She’s never getting away from me again. They’ll have to pry her from cold, dead hands.
My dick hardens, pressing against the soft fabric of my sweats. It’s been so long since he’s had anything but my hand. He knows his home is close, fuck, he can probably taste it. And he wants in.
Not the time.
The little voice is right. I need to slow this down. But when Juliette sucks on my tongue a little, I find it impossible to pull away. I can’t hold in my groan either. And that sucks because I’m pretty sure it’s the reason why she’s got her hands on my shoulders, pushing me back.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” she rushes out to say. “I just—I need you right now.”
“Whatever you have to tell yourself,” I reply, ready to kiss her again.
“I didn’t ask you to come with my mom to kiss her.”
PJ’s voice cuts through the lustful cloud surrounding our heads. Juliette turns toward him.
“Buddy, what do you need?”
He keeps his eyes on me while he answers her. “You’ve been gone a long time. I wanted you to be okay.”
“You wanted to make sure I was okay?”
PJ nods. His little frame trembles. I can see so much of myself in him right now. Wasn’t I his age when my mother had my father murdered? I was the one to find him. That’s an image that will never leave my memory.
It’s hard to see my son standing in the same position I was. He’s trying so hard to stand tall, but I can tell he’s terrified. It strikes a chord in me because I know exactly how that feels. It’s how I’ve felt since that day.
Over the years, the trauma shrunk, but at the same time, it’s never truly healed. I always feel like I’m weak, like I’m wearing a mask. The only person who I don’t want to hide from is the one who hid from me. Ironic.
“I’m fine,” Juliette replies. “Dean and I were just on our way back, right?”
She looks at me. Her eyes are a little clearer now. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a healer, but some of the sadness and guilt has ebbed away. I’m grateful for that.
“Yeah,” I croak, my voice thick with want I struggle to swallow down. “We’re on our way.”
PJ doesn’t move from his spot by the doorway. Juliette sighs.
“He won’t move until we do.”
“Oh,” I say, looking down. My sweats cover exactly nothing right now. “I’m going to need a minute.”
Juliette giggles. The sound cracks open the stony organ in my chest. It’s coming out of its cocoon—the more I’m around her, the less I hurt, the less I’m angry.
She pushes her chair back and stands. Just like she predicted, PJ starts to move as she does. Before she moves all the way away from the table, she looks down at me.
“What am I supposed to say to him?”
“I wish I knew, baby girl.”
That’s not a lie. A genie or hell, even a falling star, would be very helpful right about now.
“But you’re a good mom, okay?” I reach for her dangling hand and squeeze it. “You just need to trust yourself.”
She rolls her eyes. They’re beginning to flood with anxiety. “Because that’s been a good decision so far.”
“Then trust me. I know you’re a good mom. If you had known, you would’ve had Arnie murdered a long time ago.”
Juliette shoots me a look. “Don’t say that so loud. PJ will hear you.”
“All I’m saying is that you didn’t do this on purpose. None of it is your fault, okay?”
“I appreciate that, Dean, but it feels a lot like my fault.”
Her hand falls out of my grasp as she walks away from the table. From me. It hurts, but I let her go anyway. One, because this boner is not going anywhere any time soon. Two, because I can tell she needs some space.
I try to force myself to think of other things to make my cock relax, but nothing works. Not a surprise considering my eyes are glued straight to her ass. It looks so damn good in those leggings. As hard as it is to let her walk away, I love to watch her go.