Chapter Nine #2
“We interviewed the parents today. They were shocked.” A slight understatement. Mrs. Maddox was keeping her husband on a short leash, as far as I could see. He would have happily kept his mouth shut and said nothing if not for the fact that his temper had him moving swiftly past boiling point.
“Did they give any indication of a violent past?” he quickly asks.
Katie is watching me. I know she can’t hear the colonel, but with the scowl on her face, she may as well. I know he wants this wrapped up as soon as possible, but surely finding the right person is more important than finding the wrong person guilty just to tick a box.
“Not particularly. Nothing that was of any concern to myself or Dr. Murphy.”
“I don’t care about her opinion. The police will have their own agenda. I want to know what you found out that will get this resolved.”
“Sir . . . there is a process that we’re following.
There isn’t going to be one thing that resolves this.
It will take time.” I don’t usually speak back to superiors, and I carefully watch my tone with the colonel.
He has the power to move me anywhere he likes, and I very much like my life in Seattle.
I’m planning on staying here for my whole career.
I’m not going to jeopardize that to get in a quick shot at him.
“Give me information. I want a report of everything you have on my desk by Monday morning.”
“Yes. Si—” He hangs up before I can finish my sentence, and I sigh, tucking my phone back into my pocket, ready to tackle the she-devil and the obvious intrigue the phone call has garnered.
“Your boss has a serious stick up his butt,” she quips, stealing one of my fries.
“Tell me about it,” I mutter, watching her sip her soda again.
“Why is the army involved in this?”
The question dangles in front of us like an overripe fruit on the cusp of falling from a tree. She was bound to ask . . . eventually. Hell, I’ve been thinking the same thing as her. What the hell is the colonel so irate about? Because it can’t just be that the army has had some bad press recently.
I shrug. “It’s his job to keep the military base out of the press, and recently there’s been a string of bad news.”
“Yeah, Seattle seems to be in a bit of a dark period at the moment. I can’t blame him for wanting things to be cleared up, but he seems emotionally invested in this. It makes me wonder why that would be.”
“I didn’t ask.”
She rolls her eyes as if I wasn’t smart enough to think of the question that’s been rattling around her brain.
I’m not dumb. It’s just not how military hierarchy works.
If they want me to know something, they will tell me.
If I don’t have clearance to have a certain piece of information, you’ll bet your ass they’re not gonna tell me shit.
Do I think the colonel is withholding information?
Yes. But I can’t force him to tell me what he knows, and it would be insubordinate to demand it from him.
“Are you gonna tell me about your nightmare?”
Her eyes widen like a deer in headlights. She tucks her hands into the sleeves of her sweater, another trait from our college days when she used to snuggle into herself. But this time, she looks worn out and secretive.
“No.”
“Then I guess the colonel isn’t the only one who’s hiding something,” I snip before catching the attention of the waitress to grab the check.
Katie looks out the window at the parking lot.
Our rental is a small car amongst a sea of trucks, and I almost chuckle at how out of place it looks.
But the sun has set now, and we’ve secured our flights home, so we’ll both be available for Mia’s birthday dinner tomorrow.
If we can get through the night without Katie having a nightmare, we’ll be able to have a relatively easy day tomorrow.
It’s curious that she didn’t have one at Lottie’s house.
She was curled up against me the whole night. I wouldn’t have been able to miss it.
“How long have your nightmares been happening?” I ask, mostly out of curiosity, but also to see if she would tell me.
She sighs heavily, the exhaustion clearly weighing on her. Usually, she has more fight in her, so when she actually answers, my eyebrows damn near hit my hairline. “Nearly a year.”
She pulls the strap of her purse over her shoulder as she shuffles out of the booth, heading toward the exit.
“And you have them every night?”
“Yes,” she huffs.
I wave to the waitress as I hold the door open for Katie; the ding of the bell rings as we step out into the cool evening air.
Heading to the tiny car hidden behind the huge truck, I smile, knowing I’m going to piss her off even more.
“Except the night you slept cuddled up with me?” I raise an eyebrow as the crunch of her boots scrapes along the gravel.
Her brows pinch together, a tight line deepening between them as the realization kicks in. Her mouth opens, but she says nothing.
I wink at her, get in the car, and after twenty seconds of waiting, I honk the horn and watch her nearly fall on her ass from shock.
“You asshole!” she screeches as she gets in, slapping my arm.
“Get all your screams out now, princess. That way we can both have a good night's sleep.” I laugh, pulling out of the parking lot.
◆◆◆
The horn honking may have been a mistake.
The she-devil is quick with her retribution and has proven that karma is an absolute bitch.
She slips out of the bathroom in a fluffy white robe that the front office had provided in lieu of a spare room.
I’m surprised it looks as new as it does, given the state of the rest of the amenities.
She trails a hand over the dresser where my clothes are neatly folded, another habit the army instilled in me.
Her fingers run over the khaki T-shirt I’d worn today under my shirt, and she lifts it to inspect it.
“You don’t mind me wearing this, do you? My pajamas don’t seem appropriate now, and I don’t have a sleep shirt.” Her voice is low and husky, and the vibration of it heads straight to the base of my cock.
Down, boy. This is just another trick, and you’re gonna be deflating in five minutes when you realize.
“Sure. Take what you need.” I swallow.
I adjust myself on the bed, turning the page of some murder mystery I’m reading. My eyes trail up to her as she smirks. Her eyes dipping to the bulge at the top of my crossed legs. Just as I’m about to look away, she tugs down the robe, letting it fall to the floor.
I look away, but not before I catch a glimpse of a matching lace panty and bra set in a deep burgundy.
Fucking hell. The red wine color makes me wanna lick her up.
She’s always got to level it up. I honk a horn one time, and she’s got me drooling over an underwear set that I’ll never get to rip off her.
She lifts her arms above her head, bending to each side as she does some faux stretches. Her tits lift up, her stomach toned and taut, the lace sitting high on her hip, and I can only imagine the way it looks dipping down between her buttocks. Two can play at this game.
I pull my T-shirt off, uncrossing my legs as I spread them enough for her to get a better view of my bulge, which I won’t deny, apparently loves the faux stretching.
Dropping the T-shirt to the floor like a mic drop, she smirks as she trails her gaze down my chest and abs.
I’m clenching every muscle I have. I don’t even know why.
This is purely biological. My body is responding to her body. That’s all, I lie to myself.
My breath catches in my throat as she runs a finger along the bedding, inches from my leg, my side, my arm, and then she dips down, picking up the T-shirt I’d just discarded in a ditch attempt to get a point on the board.
“I think I prefer this one,” she whispers, and before I could stop myself, I’m nodding. Swallowing the lump that has taken up residence in my throat.
Instead of pulling it on over her bra, she turns around, and oh Jesus .
. . her ass. The lace. The perfectly nestled thong that I want to bite off with my fucking teeth.
But it’s like one of those magic shows where you just don’t know where to look, because she twists her arm back and casually flicks the clasp of her bra, her bare back revealed as she sweeps her long red hair over her shoulder.
She pauses for a moment before lifting her arms and pulling my T-shirt over her head.
It’s way too big for her—in fact, it engulfs her.
But now I know exactly what she’s hiding underneath.
Except she hid those perfect tits away from me just to keep one thing back.
Her head peeks over her shoulder, and she graces me with an innocent smile.
“Thanks, Jonesy. You’re the best.”
Fuck my life.