Chapter 7
7
ALEC
T he coarse brown napkin scraped across my lips, soaking up the excess pizza grease with my slow swipe across my mouth. Like the other five, I crumpled it into a tight ball and tossed it into the empty pizza box. Groaning at the fullness in my gut, I leaned against the back of the small couch.
Rae had downed another bottle of wine and polished off most of her food by the time she wrapped up her horror story. Guilt rode me hard that I wasn’t there for her, able to support her through everything she’d been through. But I didn’t know. The day I packed up my shit and left for that military academy, I never looked back.
I couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk allowing my heart to pull me back to Sweetcreek, putting her back in danger. The night I realized what I’d become, who I would be exactly like, I left her. I left everything to save her, but hearing what she went through without me made me wonder if I made the right decision all those years ago.
But none of that changed anything. I could never have Rae, never be the man she deserved. Which was why I had to hold back. I needed to stop imagining what she looked like under those soft cotton pants and top. It was a constant battle to keep from touching her. It was the worst and best idea to pull her over to me on the couch earlier. She fit perfectly against me, almost like her on my lap was where she was meant to be—forever.
I wanted everything my sunshine would freely give, but I couldn’t ever act on my desires for her. No, I had to hold tight to my control, keep away and leave when it came time.
I left her once for her own good, and I would do it again. But first I had to make sure she stayed safe and happy again.
A small smile tugged at one corner of her lips as she chewed her pizza. “Good, right?” she said.
I eyed the two empty wine bottles on the table.
“You always a two-bottle-a-night woman, or is me being here a special occasion?”
“Eh, a little here, a lot there.” Her features turned pensive. “Never had a reason not to indulge. The nights get pretty lonely, and wine helps fill the void.”
“I know.” Fucking hell, I did not mean to say that out loud. I coughed into my hand and leaned forward. “One more question for you.”
“Just one?” She laughed. “I tell you how the police have tried to pin several murders on me, that I might be on my way to being a lonely alcoholic, and all you have is one more question?”
“Touché. I have several, but this is about our food. Why are the boxes odd?” I couldn’t put my finger on it, but the cardboard felt different, lighter than the normal pizza box too.
“Because all their boxes and packaging come from recycled products. I only order from places that use this type of box or at the very least to-go containers that are 100 percent recyclable.”
I flicked the cardboard lid. “Rae Chapin became a tree hugger,” I said jokingly.
“Conservationist. Get your labels right, Ranger.” Humor lifted her tone, but she still didn’t show that wide smile I remembered, the one that saw me through many bad days. In fact, I hadn’t seen her really smile once. Maybe a smirk here or there, but no smile. “Now you’re all caught up, know everything I know. What do I do now?”
There was no missing the hesitation or her choice of words. She fully expected to battle this on her own. I couldn’t allow that. Not that she wasn’t capable—obviously she survived this long without me—but fuck, I didn’t want her to have to deal with it on her own. I wanted to be the one she leaned on, the one who held her, the one who caught the bad guy.
I’d never wanted to be anyone’s hero until now.
“You’re not doing this alone, Sunshine.” Her dark eyes widened with a mix of hope, fear, and hesitation. You and me both, Rae. “From what you’re telling me, you’re being targeted. Someone is going to great lengths to position you alone and vulnerable while causing you extreme emotional pain at the same time.” Standing, I grabbed glasses of water for her and myself from the kitchen. “Let me make sure I didn’t miss anything.”
Our fingers brushed when she took the tall pint glass from me. It wasn’t the first time I touched her tonight, but this simple touch sent a spark of heat up my arm and into my chest. Returning to my seat, I relaxed and stretched my arm out along the back of the couch.
“There were your parents. Some evidence, but everything circumstantial. Then the boyfriend found dead in his car. What tied you to that case?”
A red blush sprouted along her fair cheeks. “The car they found him in, they also found some, um—” Rae looked everywhere other than toward me. “—DNA in the back seat.”
“You conveniently left that out earlier,” I grumbled. The muscle along my jaw twitched under the strain as I worked it back and forth.
“He was my first.” That pert little nose crinkled in disgust. “In the back seat of his Impala. It was terrible and?—”
I shot out a hand, stopping her. “I don’t need to know the details. They found him in the car, where they also found your DNA.”
“Right. That pointed them to me. Plus, our relationship was rocky. Add that in with the previous suspicions surrounding me from my parents’ deaths and the police came knocking on my door before dragging me down to the station for questioning. Again, circumstantial evidence, so no charges were filed.”
I nodded as I took mental notes about each of the cases. “Then the next, your best friend, Beth. They found her in her home, dead.”
Sadness hung over Rae like a dark rain cloud. It took all my self-control to not reach over the coffee table and put her back on my lap where she belonged—where I could keep her safe.
“They found drugs in her house?—”
“Drugs?” I exclaimed.
“Beth and I liked to partake in smoking every now and again. She said it helped with my borderline depressive state. They found pot along with, surprise, my fingerprints all over the house. So they dragged me down to the station and asked questions again.”
I shook my head. “Did they ever have any actual suspects?”
Rae shrugged. “Dunno. Me and the Sweetcreek police are not on the best of terms. They seem to think I’m a psychopath, and, well, I know I’m not, so we fail to be on the same page time and time again.”
With both thumbs, I massaged my temples, trying to ease the building headache. “And then the last one, another boyfriend found murdered.”
She gave a slow nod. “I wouldn’t really call him a boyfriend. We went on a few dates, nothing serious. That’s when I realized I had to lock myself away. No one was safe around me anymore. I was afraid a stranger would die just because they smiled at me or I acknowledged them. I’ve been living this”—she waved a hand around the sparse room—“since then. Which worked until last night. I’d barely ever spoken to the guy.”
“Where did they find the body?” I fought against the urge to ask more interrogative type questions. Rae was in trouble, but not with the police. Someone slowly zeroed in on her, and I needed to find out who before she ended up as the next victim.
“That’s the thing. They haven’t. Last night at a restaurant downtown, customers saw us leave together. Which means I was the last person to see him. That led to the interrogation today. They think I did it, think I’m holding him somewhere.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“Greg or Gregory something. I never even knew his name. He flirted for weeks before last night. All shallow one-liners before I told him to go away for his own good.”
“How was last night different?”
“I talked to him,” she whispered. Closing her eyes, she squeezed them shut. “I knew better, damnit, but I was lonely. He followed me out, we talked for a few minutes, and then I left. When I drove off, he stood outside the bar smiling.”
The memory of how I found the living room flashed to the forefront of my mind. “Then why did it look like someone had a party in your living room last night? You sure he didn’t come back here with you?” I hated accusing her of lying, but something wasn’t adding up.
“Yes, I’m sure,” she hissed and threw the pizza crust at my head. I dodged it easily and prepared for another projectile to come flying toward my face. “I had a pity party for one. Well, two if you count Delilah, but I don’t since she never seems to talk back when I ask her questions about love and life.”
Delilah. Delilah. Where have I heard that name before?
“The radio personality?” I barked a laugh at her slow nod, confirming my assumption. “You always had a thing for that sappy love radio shit.”
“Don’t do that, please.” All the fight drained from her, leaving her features full of exhaustion and sadness.
“Don’t do what?”
“Remind me of what we used to be. Bring stuff up that you shouldn’t remember. It makes me think….” She shook her head and stood. “I’ve gotta pee.”
I watched her run away from me, avoiding the conversation neither of us wanted to have. When the door shut, I stretched across the coffee table and snagged a piece of her pizza.
I leaned back, chewing slowly and processing everything revealed tonight. Five murders and Rae the prime suspect. Well, I assumed she was the prime suspect. Now that I knew the entire story from her side, I needed those case files. All of them. But I didn’t trust that detective to give me everything. He would probably only include the evidence that pointed to Rae, which meant I needed help. And since I was shit with computers, I needed help from someone who could hack into the Sweetcreek database and retrieve all the documents surrounding each case.
And I had just the man for the job. Even if he annoyed the shit out of me with his easygoing personality and carefree attitude toward everything.
The bathroom door clicked open. “I need to make a call,” I said to the room as I stood and dug the phone out of my front pocket. “I’ll just step outside?—”
“No,” Rae exclaimed, throwing both hands up as if to stop me. “It’s not safe now that you know me.”
I scoffed. “Rae, if anyone should be scared, it’s the fucker who’s after you. I’ve got enough anger and pent-up hostility to take out anyone who tries anything.”
“Who are you calling?” she asked nervously, running her fingers through her ponytail.
“A friend who can help us.”
“Us?”
“Us. I told you I’m not going anywhere until we sort this out.”
A full smile made her cheeks bunch. I sucked in a breath at the beauty radiating from her. “I always knew deep down you were a good guy. Just a bad boy to everyone else.”
She wasn’t wrong. I got in more fights than I could remember. Most of them revolving around something to do with Rae. The first fight I ever got in was in fourth grade. I punched Teddy in the nose for saying something negative about my sunshine. It only got worse from there.
I took her in, surveying the beautiful woman standing just feet from me. Those curves begged for me to run my hands over them, her soft fair skin meant to be kissed, her long dark hair perfect for wrapping around my fist to arch her neck back, allowing me to slowly fuck those full lips.
I groaned and stormed to the door. I couldn’t think that way. This was business, that was it, and how it had to stay. Even if my hardening dick had other plans.
The door slammed shut behind me. I winced as the entire house shuddered with the force.
Note to self: this house is one hard wind gust away from collapsing to the ground.
After entering the phone number, I pressed the hard glass to my ear and paced the short porch.
“Ranger Bronson,” the cocky-ass voice poured through the earpiece. “What do I owe the pleasure at—” A long pause. “—one in the morning.”
“Hello, Charles.” His hiss on the other end of the line told me he still hated when I used his given first name instead of the cooler nickname he preferred to go by. Special Agent Charlie Bekham was arrogant as fuck but had every right to be. Not only a computer whiz, but also amazing at piecing a puzzle together, making the random outliers make sense to the complete picture. Which was why I needed his help now. “I need your help. Where are you these days?”
“You need my help? Interesting.” I could practically hear his smile growing.
“This was a terrible idea,” I grumbled.
“Actually, the best idea you’ve had all year, I’d guess.” A shuffle of sheets sounded through the phone, followed by a soft female voice. “Not now, sweetheart. Daddy has a work call.”
My brows rose up my forehead in surprise. “You never told me you had a kid.”
His sensual chuckle raked against my thin patience. “I don’t. Get to the point, Alec. I have other matters to attend to.”
“You’re a prick, you know that?”
“You knew that when you called.”
I took a calming breath to keep from launching my phone across the yard. “How soon can you get to Texas? There’s a case, and I could use your expertise.”
“You mean my amazing hacking and investigative skills.”
“Yes,” I gritted out. My hold tightened on the phone. “She was?—”
“Ah, there it is,” he cut in.
“What?”
“The reason you set aside your obvious annoyance with me to ask for my help. She must be something special. Can’t wait to meet her.”
“Charlie, I swear?—”
“Calm down, Hulk. Don’t go ripping your pretty pearl snap shirt. I won’t hit on her, Scout’s honor.” That meant absolutely nothing since I knew for a fact neither of us were ever Scouts. “I can be there in the morning. It’s not a long flight from Nashville. But for me to drop everything I have going on here, I’ll need something from you.”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll call your boss and request your help.”
“Not that. Well, that, and something else.”
I groaned and tilted my face to the night sky. “I don’t even want to know.”
“I’ve heard through the water cooler gossip that you have a friend in the BSU. I want an interview.”
Pain radiated along my jaw from my clenched teeth. “I can’t guarantee you an interview.”
“Sure you can, if you want my help to save your girlfriend.”
Bastard. “Fine. I’ll get it arranged after we solve the case.”
“Perfect. See you in the morning,” he said, his voice full of victory.
“Wait,” I snapped before Charlie could end the call. “You don’t know where we are.”
An exasperated sigh poured through the phone. “Bronson. It’s me. I’ll pinpoint your location via your cell after I’m done with this naughty little devil beside me. It’ll take me less than five minutes to locate exactly where you’re standing at that moment. Tomorrow.” The line went dead.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket before I crushed it within my white-knuckled grip. He was right about one thing: Rae was something special if I broke down and called him for help. He wasn’t a bad guy, just cocky as hell and would hit on any available female in a one-mile radius.
As I walked down the path toward my truck to retrieve my bag, a nagging thought pestered at the back of my mind. Her reaction to something I said seemed off, like she was avoiding or hiding something, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember when or what we were talking about.
Whether it pertained to this case or something else, I wasn’t sure.
But I sure as hell would find out.