Chapter 17 #2
I traced the names mindlessly, uncertain I could continue with the story.
The conclusion in some ways was much worse than the main body.
“An anonymous tip. Would you believe that? I get them all the time as a prosecutor, but imagine going into work one day, opening your email and discovering very graphic pictures of your father with a woman your own age. I confronted him and threatened to release the photographs if he didn’t give my mother everything in the divorce. ”
“Did he?”
“He did. I guess he understood me well enough to know when I stated I was going to do something, I followed through every single time. Without question.” My words of conviction prompted me to turn toward him. Locking eyes with his, I could clearly tell he was at a loss for words. A first.
There was the same crackle of electricity, the same powerful draw to him that I’d experienced on the sidewalk long before I’d become his guest. But being here in this space with him was being allowed a visit into the most vulnerable side of him.
And I doubted he’d ever gift me something of this magnitude again.
The feeling went way beyond our physical needs, and a desire that had already consumed us into a much deeper, darker chemistry. I’d yet to explain why no matter how often I’d tried. Maybe for him, as he said, in death there was life.
How profound.
How very sad.
He wasn’t the kind of man who awarded second chances and I doubted he’d ever felt a moment of guilt for taking a life, but he was a man. A man with strong requirements, needs that transcended all.
“In my eyes, any man who betrays his family is a true monster.” His words were stark, cold and full of his own hatred.
“You’re right. He is a monster, but they come in all shapes and sizes.”
“If you’re trying to insult me, it’s not working, Catherine.”
“That’s not what I’m trying to do at all. I’m not even talking about you.” I gave him a quick dart of my eyes and he was more than curious, but that’s where the story ended.
“Who was your father?”
“No one. A man who fell in love with my mother. I’d heard he was the fairytale. It’s funny. They never talked much about how they met. As strange as it sounds, I miss not knowing.”
While he didn’t grill me, I had a feeling I hadn’t experienced the end of the questions.
He was under the belief that I’d somehow been involved with his father’s death.
Did I worry that things were adding up? That I’d been lured into working the case for nefarious reasons, yes.
I knew in my heart something was off, as if we’d been shoved into the middle of a vicious game.
Only I feared if I was right, he’d lose what little sense of control he had.
That I wouldn’t be able to control him.
If so, he’d be lost forever.
Including from me.
“Who are you, Catherine?”
The question as always caught me off guard. His gaze was even more pointed, the darkness surrounding him oppressive. I wasn’t certain what he was searching for, but in his eyes, there was no doubt he was questioning everything about me. “You know who I am. I’m an open book.”
But was I? Was I really? Yes, I’d confided in him about my father, something I’d done with no one else. Yet there was so much more to the story, even if I didn’t care to admit it or associate myself with aspects of my father’s life.
“Are you hiding something from me?”
His jaw was clenched more so than normal, a clear indication he didn’t believe certain details of my life were accurate.
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Alexander.
There are no burning secrets in my world, other than now with all my friends and my mother since I’m falling for a man who will likely break my heart. ”
My admittance seemed to surprise him.
The way he moved forward was exactly as a predator would, silent and cunning, taking his time to ensure no one would interrupt us. I felt even more vulnerable than before, uncertain of his actions and the anger he was trying so desperately to harness.
When he was only inches away, I put my hand on his chest. My touch seemed to have a calming effect even though his chest continued to rise and fall.
“I’m not trying to hurt you.” His words were whispered.
“Then don’t.”
With his head slightly tilted, he pressed the rough pads of his fingers against my cheek. The moment was completely silent, warmth sparking desire. As he brushed his thumb across my jaw, I felt my legs start to shake as the rush of electricity sparked like a live wire between us.
“You are so very beautiful, my angel. I would hate for anything to happen to you.”
Only a day before, I would have taken his softly spoken words as a threat.
Not today.
He was already worried what we were sharing wouldn’t last, another admittance. A crack in his steel-plated armor. When I wrapped my hand around his wrist, leaning in, his exhale was one of troubled peace. “It won’t. I’m not fragile.”
“Everyone is fragile, but it’s your vulnerability that shines through your defenses.
” This time as he captured my mouth, I was completely still, enjoying the closeness.
With my eyes closed, I finally fisted his shirt, pulling myself even closer.
The kiss was tender and caring, different than almost every other time.
As he explored my mouth, the tingles continued to create waves of need.
Until I was left breathless, uncertain what he wanted from me, yet somewhere in the back of my mind I knew the answer.
Everything.
I’d been right from the beginning.
He wanted to consume me.
He broke the kiss, cupping the side of my face and pressing his lips to my forehead. “There are far too many people who want me dead and will stop at nothing to make that happen. Something for you to remember.”
Was that a warning for my safety or for his? Even if I asked, I knew he wouldn’t answer.
His aura created an almost imperceptible shift in the air, yet it was his presence that stirred the hunger in the darkest parts of me. There was also a difference in his voice, raw as if my being with him had changed him as well.
“Just remember something, sweet angel, and this is very important. Don’t betray me.
Don’t ever try and betray me.” With him issuing the emotionless words twice—not a statement but a command—I shuddered to my core.
“Those who do learn what it’s like to face the very depths of an abyss they’re never able to crawl from. ”
Right now, his voice reminded me of a storm brewing in the distance.
The uncertainty as he took another step away was confusing. We weren’t finished here. There was one more aspect of his private world that he wanted to share.
I returned my attention to the tablet, bracing myself for whatever he needed to show me.
My eyes trailed other names, realizing they were in alphabetical order. When I came upon one, I thought about the date, slowly coming to a realization someone else in his immediate family had died in his lifetime.
When I turned and looked at him, instead of the anger I’d seen so many times before or the sarcastic man who continued to believe he could break down my defenses, I noticed someone experiencing soul-crushing grief.
What little he’d told me about his business, his world as he’d called it so many times, confirmed what I’d already come to realize.
Alexander was a very lonely man, close to his family yet able to keep them at arm’s length because the love was entirely different. The loneliness he’d suffered had taken a toll.
Once the name caught my eye and my heart, I knew the death had stripped him of his ability to embrace compassion or love for himself.
“Who was Sebastian?” I asked, no longer looking at him for fear the very anger keeping him prisoner would surface.
He was so explosive, so unpredictable, a caustic tale of his experiences. Dangerous not only to those who crossed his path, but to all who knew him.
“My brother.” The deep intensity of his tone, the way he muttered the two words with a snarl on his face presented the same rage I’d seen one too many times. Sebastian’s death had shaped him, the reason for his decisions and every determined aspect of his life.
This was the guilt surrounding him, keeping the demons just out of reach.
And the reason he had no qualms about taking risks.
He believed he should have been the one who’d died.
“He was only…” I glanced at the tablet again, putting the years together in my head, once again studying the lines on Alexander’s face, the way the wind swept through his thick strands of hair and the perfection of his features.
“He was nine years old when he died. Taken from his family. My family. He should be here where I am standing now, leading the family through this crisis.”
That’s the reason he’d brought me here. This wasn’t just some random attempt to pull at my heartstrings. This was a very personal moment shared with someone he’d dared place some trust in, a woman who could do him great harm. The private pain he’d kept beneath his complex layers for thirty years.
With my eyes still locked on him, I thought about the timing once. The two were close.
Not just close.
They’d been inseparable.
Twins.