Chapter 8
Cameron
Moonlight filters through the bedroom’s blinds, casting soft shadows across Lacey’s bare shoulder. She’s beside me, her breathing even, her body curled slightly toward mine as if she feels safer that way—even in her sleep. I brush a strand of dark hair off her cheek, careful not to wake her.
I crossed the line with her. I probably shouldn’t have caved, but I don’t regret being with her. Even sleeping all night with her, holding her, is something I’d do again. A lot.
Because something about Lacey drew me in. Her strength. Her vulnerability. The fire in her eyes when she delivered the sketch artist’s renderings to the detective in charge of her friend’s murder investigation.
Now that we’ve crossed the line, she’s more than someone I’m protecting. But I don’t know where that will lead, if anywhere, with me bugging out of here as soon as I get the medical all-clear.
A creak outside the apartment drags me from my thoughts. My instincts kick in. Too loud. Too close. Not normal.
I slip out of bed as quietly as possible, pulling on my jeans and grabbing my sidearm from the nightstand. Every muscle in my body is coiled, ready to spring. I glance back at Lacey, still sleeping, and move toward the door.
A soft scrape, like metal-on-metal sounds. Fuck. Someone’s picking the lock.
I press myself against the wall beside the door, weapon raised. My heart thunders in my ears, but my breathing stays steady. The lock clicks, and the door cracks open an inch.
The perp is quick, but not quick enough. As soon as he steps into the apartment, I move, hooking my arm around his neck in a chokehold while I press the barrel of my Glock against his temple.
“Don’t move,” I say.
He thrashes, slamming us against the wall. His elbow connects with my ribs, but I hold firm. He’s strong, and I can feel the fight in him. But he’s no match for me.
“Who sent you?” I demand, tightening my grip.
He doesn’t answer, stomping on my foot, then wrenches free with a desperate twist, butting me hard enough to unbalance me for a split second.
It’s all he needs.
By the time I recover and bolt after him, he’s already out the door and down the stairs.
I chase him into the night, but the bastard is fast and clearly knows the layout of apartment complex. He’s gone before I can get a clear shot.
I double back to the apartment, adrenaline pumping and frustration burning a hole in my chest. When I reach Lacey’s bedroom, she’s awake, sitting up in bed with the sheet pulled tightly around her, wide-eyed.
Her fear is palpable. “What happened?” she asks, her voice trembling.
“Someone tried to break in. He got away.”
She clutches the sheet tighter, and I can see the whites of her knuckles even in the low light. “Who was it?”
“I don’t know yet, but it’s clear this wasn’t random.” I kneel in front of her, resting a hand on her thigh. “They’re looking for something. Is there anything you might have that’s connected to Adrian?”
She shakes her head, her brows furrowing. “I don’t know. He didn’t tell me much about his work after he got his promotion. And when he moved out of the complex, I only saw him at the shop when he came in to get new clothes.”
I study her face, read the frustration in her deep blue eyes and the tiny line between her brows. “The Atlanta PD have investigated his Chief Financial Officer, Julian Vale. He’s cooperating, but did Adrian ever say anything odd or off about the man before he died?”
“Not really. I mean, Julian did shop at Barringtons too.” Her gaze darts to the floor as she searches her memory. “He’s polished, professional. But Adrian didn’t talk about him much. Do you think he had something to do with the murder? Even though he’s been cooperating with the investigation?”
“It’s worth getting someone from my agency to dig deeper into the guy’s background,” I say, my jaw tightening. “You’re my priority. I’ll ask Beckett to review Adrian’s contacts today, starting with his CFO. Meanwhile, I’m not leaving your side.”
Her lips part, and there’s a moment of hesitation before she speaks. “I just wish I could figure out why they’re after me too.”
I reach up, cupping her face gently, brushing her cheek with my thumb. “Besides the fact that they believe you’re the only person who can positively ID the killer or killers?”
“Yes. Before I go to Barringtons this morning, I’d like to swing by the precinct to speak with Detective Reynolds again. We can report the current break-in attempt and ask if she has more information about Adrian’s work connections that will help me figure out why this happened,” she says.
Determination is etched in her features. I nod, impressed by her resilience and dedication to seeking justice. “Good idea. We need to find out who’s behind this before they make another move.”
She smiles and reaches out to intertwine her hand with mine. “Thanks for being here for me.”
Her palm feels right, like it belongs there, with me, always.
Something wraps around my chest, squeezing my lungs, making it hard to breathe.
The last time I felt this intensity, I was engaged.
“You know I’ll do everything in my power to keep you safe, especially now,” I say, my throat thick with unspoken memories.
I couldn’t stop cancer from taking Melanie, but I sure as hell can stop a killer.
“You don’t have to say that just because we had wild sex last night.”
God. I really like this woman. She’s giving me an out. Not asking for anything more. And I want more. That’s new. And fuck me. I’m caught off guard by the thought rolling through my brain. “I know I don’t,” I say. “But I want to.”
“I don’t have any expectations,” she whispers. “It was one night.”
“It could be more than one night if you want it to be.” Damn. I want to spend more time with her. Get to know her and what drives her. Be with her in more ways than the horizontal kind of ways.
A desire I haven’t had in eons. Years.
“That would be great.” She removes her hand from mine, and cool air replaces the warmth of her touch. “But after this is over and the people responsible for Adrian’s death are brought to justice, you’re returning to your team overseas. And I’ll be alone.”
“True.”
“Cameron, I don’t want to be alone, waiting for you to return to me or fearing the worst. I’ve lived that kind of life before. With my dad. I saw what it did to my mom. She had it hard. So did my sister and I.”
Something clutches my heart and sends a painful jab behind my ribs.
What the fuck? I just wanted to spend more time with her, not put a ring on her finger.
Jeez. “I hear you.” I push away from the floor and stand.
“So, let’s table the future discussion until after the cops and my agency unravel the web of secrets and lies that brought us together. ”
I should have known better than to run with my emotions, my gut. That shit clouds judgement, leads to fatal errors. I can’t let it take over my logic, my reason.
But even as she nods in agreement, I can’t stop wondering if we can have a real shot at getting that something more.