Chapter 11
11
CAS
I couldn’t stop.
I needed to pull back. To stop tasting her delicious skin. Stop fantasizing about the way she tasted elsewhere. Stop my roaming hands.
But I couldn’t.
Call me selfish. Call me disturbed and an asshole, but I wouldn’t stop. She was too much, yet at the same time I couldn’t get enough. The sense of belonging enveloped me each time our skin touched, a type of belonging I’d never known, even in the marines.
This was home. She was home.
We were meant to be together. Somehow in this crazy world, we led different paths to be here—two royally fucked-up paths—but we made it to each other.
With each flick of my tongue against her soft, fair skin, each suck of my lips, I dove deeper into her pull.
Mine.
The word pulsed in my brain over and over like a flickering neon light.
This delicate, beautiful, damaged soul would be mine—this innocent woman wrapped in a strawberry-blonde, freckle-faced package.
Strands of her hair tangled between my fingers as I tugged it out of the tight bun that held it back, urging her face closer.
Alta’s hot, erratic breaths brushed against my cheek, and mine caught in my chest. She felt it too. Every hot pulse between us wasn’t just me. No, she wanted this too.
I grazed my lips down her cheekbone toward her plump, pink lips, and our breaths mingled. Heart hammering against my chest, I shifted along the couch to pull her lips to mine just as a loud engine roared up the gravel drive. Lips hovering over hers, I peeled my eyes open to stare down at the most innocent face I’d ever been that close to.
Innocent.
Perfect.
Deserving.
Everything I wasn’t.
“We have company,” I whispered against her lips.
“Hmm” was the only acknowledgment I got in return.
Pulling back, I sat against the couch and lifted her from the floor. With Alta still lost in a lusty daze, I retrieved the iPad from where it had slid to the floor, set it on her lap, and flicked the screen alive just as a loud thud boomed through the living room and the front door shook.
I barked a laugh. She did it again. Locked the damn door.
My leg muscles protested as I stood to open the door. An angry Peters stormed through the second I unlocked it, that dipshit John guy hot on his heels.
“Where in the hell did you two run off to?” Peters bit out, even though a fraction of his temper eased the second he saw us both safe. Maybe there was more to this case if Peters was scared that something had happened to us, or perhaps just her. He knew I could handle my own, plus the deranged fucker we were chasing wasn’t after someone with my anatomy.
Before I could respond, John stomped to Alta and dropped to a crouch before her as she stared at the iPad.
“You okay there, Birdie?” When he didn’t get an immediate answer, his gaze shot to her disheveled hair before turning. “What the fuck did he do to you?”
His accusing tone must’ve sunk into the deep spell she was under—which I had to admit was fucking amazing, since I put her there with only a hint of a kiss. She mentioned it’d been a while for her; surely she didn’t mean… no, no way a man hadn't intimately touched her since she left Texas. That was ten years ago.
“I’m fine. Sorry, just lost in thought.” Alta looked everywhere other than where I stood as she rose from the couch. “Give me a second, but I want to show you something, Chandler. I think I found something.” At that she turned, walked to the small bathroom off the hall and softly clicked the door closed behind her.
Behind the furious John, Peters smiled, probably knowing full well he and John cock-blocked me.
“Calm the fuck down,” I grumbled to the man who was still glaring. “She wanted to come back here to look at something on that thing.” I hitched my chin to the iPad on the couch. “She fucking took off, ran here.”
“You could’ve left the keys, bastard. I had to bum a damn ride.” That mischievous smile of his grew. “Then what happened?” Peters prodded. “Once you two got here, that is.”
I shot him a glare and ran a calloused palm down my face. Peters was officially a bastard. “Fuck off,” I growled just as the bathroom lock clicked and the door swung open.
Calm and collected once again, Alta snagged the iPad and shifted to show Peters the screen. “When I saw the husbands today, something clicked. They’re both huge.”
Peters frowned. “Huge is a slight overstatement. I mean, they’re big?—”
“To me they’re huge, just like you and Cas.” She gave him a patronizing pat on his shoulder. “There, does that make you feel better about your size?”
“Yes,” he said, seemingly satisfied.
Her hazel eyes rolled to the ceiling, but a small smirk twitched at the corners of her lips. “Whatever. Anyway, it got me thinking about the pictures I flipped through the other day when I was here.”
“You were here? Alone? With them?” John cut in, sounding wounded.
Alta didn’t flinch. “Yes. Can I talk without being interrupted?”
The two men hung their heads and nodded, completely chastised. I couldn’t help the small smile of pride that crept up my lips.
“I remembered having the same thoughts about a few of the husbands from the Smokies cases,” she continued. “That’s what I wanted to see before I brought it to your attention, Chandler. And after looking at all the pictures again, I think I have something.”
“What, that all the husbands are big? That’s not much of a profile for the type of women the unsub goes after.”
“Maybe it is,” she said, straightening. “What if he targets the women because of the husbands?”
Peters fell onto the couch beside me as he flipped through the pictures. “But none of the women have the same build, the same hair color, background, nothing. I don’t see how?—”
“They’re all married to the same type of guy,” Alta continued. “Large, arrogant, dominant, huge egos. And that is a type. What if it’s not about the women at all? What if it’s about torturing the husbands, because this guy takes the one thing they feel the most possessive about? What if he’s taking them not to do whatever cruel things other serial killers do to their victims, but to watch the aftermath, the husband’s downfall? Because as big as they are, they couldn’t save the one person who mattered most.”
Silence took over the room as we all processed her theory. It was crazy, but it made sense, especially if the guy wasn’t like the husbands.
“The guy could be weak, comparatively speaking,” I mused as I scratched at my days-old scruff. “Maybe he was the small guy his whole life and resents men who’re stronger than them.” Knowing I was about to set off an explosion, I caught John’s attention and asked, “Is that how you felt?”
“Fuck you,” he seethed and took a step closer. “Just because I don’t ’roid out like you doesn’t mean I’m weak.”
“So you’re just small,” I retorted with an arrogant smile. It was too easy, and way too fun.
Arms folded across his puffed chest, he looked to Alta, who ignored us by flipping through her phone. “I’m big in all the right places.”
I caught Alta’s eyes widening a fraction. So she was listening.
“Keep telling yourself that, boss?—”
A small but strangely strong hand smacked against my chest, knocking the breath from my lungs.
Hell. The woman could pack a punch. She wasn’t exaggerating about the black belt.
“Enough, you two. Focus on the task at hand. You can schedule a time to meet on the playground after the work’s done to finish this juvenile fight.” Turning to Peters, she asked, “What do you think of the guy targeting the women based on their husbands, not the women themselves?”
Peters leaned back, sinking deeper into the couch after tossing the iPad in my direction. “You could be on to something, but it doesn’t give us any details to how he’s finding them.”
“What’s something all of them would have in common?” I asked, looking to Alta as she paced in front of the fireplace, hands resting on her lean hips.
“Haircuts, protein shakes, favorite coffee, places they ran while they were here. It could be anything,” Peters said with a groan. “It’s a lot of work to go back to all those husbands and track their every move while they were in the parks and outside of it, but it’s worth a shot. It’s more than we’ve had to go off of besides the notes.”
“Notes?” Alta skidded to a halt, almost tumbling forward over her own two feet. “What notes?”
“I was planning to tell you in the interviews today, but you ran away.” Peters leaned forward, clasping his hands between his bent knees. “I couldn’t tell you before because it’s the one piece of the investigation no one knows about. Not the press, not even the husbands. Each of the wives received a card, a love card of sorts, sometime during their stay. All found on their windshields one morning. Every single one of them brushed it off as a mix-up because of the message inside.”
Her chest stopped moving like she couldn’t breathe. “What did it say?”
“‘See you soon. We’ll have so much fun.’ Or something along those lines. Since they trashed the cards assuming it wasn’t meant for them, we can only go off what the husband remembered, which was very little. Some said it was in print, a few others said cursive like a woman’s handwriting, and a few others said it was chicken scratch.”
Scared, accusing eyes shot to me. “Did you know about this?”
I nodded, feeling a little guilty, though not sure why.
John stepped toward her. “I just found out or I would’ve told you. I’m sure this brings up a lot of old memories because of?—”
The ‘shut the fuck up’ glare Alta shot him could be felt by everyone in the room.
John cleared his throat and looked to his watch. “Listen, I need to get back. I’ve got a ton of shit to wrap up before tonight. Birdie, want me to drive you home?”
She shook her head, resuming her back-and-forth pace. “No thanks. I’ll walk Benny home before heading out for my shift.”
“I’ll take that ride,” Peters chimed in. “I need to get the Suburban.”
John headed for the door as Peters shoved off the couch, turning to me with an extended hand. “Keys, you asshole. And don’t lock the fucking door again.”
A small hand rose from the other side of the room. “My bad. Force of habit. Can’t say I’ll be able to stop, but I’ll try.”
The back of the soft, worn couch molded around my back as I dug into my shorts’ pockets for the keys. One-handed, Peters snatched them before they could soar over his head.
“Be back in a few,” he said with a smile. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“I know I’m onto something,” Alta muttered after the door had clicked closed behind Peters. “It can’t be a coincidence. I’ve seen the general public in this park, and those guys are not the average man around here.”
Instead of turning on her heels to make another fast-paced loop, Alta stayed straight, rounded behind the couch and stopped in front of the door. Her right fingers twitched on her thigh like there was an internal battle urging her to reach up and flip the lock.
“I have to lock it,” she whispered, then turned with an apologetic glance. “I know it sounds silly to you, but it’s one more defense I put up to not be taken by surprise.”
The cushions groaned under the fists I plunged into them to help me stand. Not looking away from her hazel eyes, I paused just out of reach. “I’m here.”
“I know, and I do trust you. I do know you’ll keep me safe, but it’s been a part of me for so long. I’ve kept myself safe for almost ten years by keeping doors locked, windows secure, a deadly dog by my side. I hide water bottles under the sink so no one can find them and slip something inside. I only drink from things I can break the seal myself or pour myself. There’s a gun by my door, Taser under the couch, a knife under my pillow and mace hanging in my shower.”
Her back hits against the door with a soft thump and rattling of the hinge. Each breath looked to be a struggle, but her watery gaze never left mine.
“I don’t know how to be normal, and I might never figure out how, but this is how I cope. This is how I survive.” Using the pad of my thumb, I swiped a single rogue tear trailing down her freckled cheek as she whispered, “I’ve avoided physical contact for so long.” Flush crept up her neck before turning her whole face a bright pink. “It’s been years since I’ve kissed anyone.” She broke our stare to look down at the floor.
Emotional shit had never been a strength, so when she paused, still not able to look back up, I wasn’t quite sure what to do. Instead of saying the wrong thing or giving in to what my dick wanted to do—shove her against the door and break the dry spell she’d sentenced herself to—I stood silently, waiting for her to continue.
“Right. Okay, nothing else to say, then, huh? I’m quirky and not worth the trouble? I get it, don’t worry. I need to get Benny home.”
Her soft voice cracked my hard, cold heart. The door creaked open an inch before I slammed my palm against it, shoving it closed.
My chest pressed against her back, forcing her against the door to support my heavy weight. A shudder shook my fingers as I yanked her hips back, sealing us together.
“Normal isn’t something I understand or want, Lady. It’s fucking overrated.” Jerking her collar low with a single hooked finger, I slid my lips up and down the length of her neck. A jolt shook her shoulders, and a happy, mischievous smile curled the corners of my lips. Every cell in my damn body twitched to take her against the door, sink in deep, and show her just how much I didn’t fucking care about her quirks.
But I wouldn’t, even though her firm, round ass kept shifting against my hard dick, making it near impossible to resist fucking her right then and there. To silence my groan, I bit her soft flesh, savoring the way my teeth sank deep, which would no doubt leave the lasting mark I hoped for.
“More,” she begged between rapid pants, eyes sealed shut, her forehead resting against the hard wood of the door. ”More. More. More.”
“No,” I growled at my tipping point.
Releasing her hips, I smacked both palms beside her head to keep them from ripping off her pants. “I’m going to do right by you, Lady. You’re not ready for all the things I want from you.” A faint whimper escaped her parted lips, making my dick pulse against the soft fabric of my shorts. “And right now, I wouldn’t be slow, wouldn’t be fucking gentle like you need. Right now,” I gritted out into her ear while grinding my hard cock against her ass, “I want to fucking claim you, make you scream my name so that fucker boss of yours can hear it and know you're mine.”