Cold Spite, page 25
part #1 of Cold Justice® - Most Wanted Series
They reached the truck that Killion had lent them. Forgiveness didn’t feel like the gift he’d hoped it would be. She opened the door, but he hesitated to get in. At the same time, no way would he leave her unprotected.
He climbed in. Handed her the blonde wig that lay across his seat. She stuffed it beside the gear stick.
“I’m not ready to go back to the condo yet, but I can drop you off.” Tears glittered in her eyes.
He shook his head. He wasn’t leaving her alone. “Are you okay to drive?”
She sniffed and wiped her nose with a tissue she had tucked into her sleeve. “I guess we’ll find out.”
She put the vehicle in drive. It was dark out. The moon and stars obliterated by heavy clouds that rolled overhead. The campus lights shone in the distance along with the lab and HRT and the Thunderdome. They headed off base, and she drove aimlessly down rural road after rural road, heading deeper into the boonies, turning onto land belonging to the Department of Natural Resources.
Cas wished he could think of something to say that might make her feel better. “It was never you.”
She guffawed, but he leaned forward and tried to show her the truth in his eyes.
“It was always me.” He had nothing left to lose by telling her the truth. Or most of it. The worst of it. “You know I grew up in the foster care system, but it’s hard to explain how deeply that affects your psyche.”
She was quiet now, and he could sense her listening to every word. He never talked about this. Not even to his friends. Not even to Seth Hopper, who’d also grown up an orphan and understood better than most. But Seth had been adopted into a loving family, and Cas never had. It made it worse somehow. To be the one not chosen. Like everyone was better than he was. Like he was defective.
He looked out into the dark void of the surrounding forest. Couldn’t look at her as he spoke his truth. “I believed from a young age that there was something wrong with me and that was why my parents abandoned me. I believed that I didn’t deserve to be loved. I wasn’t good enough to be loved.”
Her eyes shot to his, and he wasn’t sure this was the best place to have this conversation when she was driving down a gravel road. But what the hell? He was ready to grab the wheel if he had to. The last thing he wanted was for her to be hurt.
“But I was smart and had really good grades, and I realized from a young age I got noticed when I did well in class. Noticed and praised and that was the closest feeling to love I’d ever experienced. That was the only time I received positive attention from adults, who expected a kid like me to be a dumbass useless piece of shit. You better believe I was the best goddamned student in Texas after that.”
Anguish twisted her mouth, but that wasn’t the sad part of his story.
“Eventually, I was placed with a foster family that believed in education and had gifted kids. I was finally able to stretch and grow.”
He rubbed his hands together, the scrapes from yesterday now forming brown scabs that had begun to itch.
“When I was eight, my foster family had a relative come to live with them. The father’s sister. She was probably mid-forties. She seemed nice at first, and she gave the family I lived with a break. They had three kids of their own and fostered me and another little girl called Fern. I was probably the happiest I’d ever been in my young life at this point.”
He could see the dawning of what might have happened to a little boy who had had no one to look out for him. No one to protect him.
“Turns out she was a sexual predator. Of course, I didn’t understand any of that back then. I was just a kid who lived to please the adults around him and who was too terrified to tell his foster parents what was being done to him when they weren’t around. I started to withdraw into myself, and my grades began to slip.”
He could see the sheen of cartilage beneath the skin of Delilah’s knuckles as she gripped the wheel.
“One day Fern caught the woman on the bed with me and saw everything. She started screaming which woke the other kids. The woman”—he refused to say her name though it was etched like black rot on his soul—“she slapped Fern and called her a liar. Said that she’d misinterpreted her giving me an innocent kiss goodnight. But she was already packing her bags and walking out the door by the time the parents arrived home. They were horrified. Devastated even. They reported it. They had to. Cops turned up. Social services. They questioned me, but I refused to talk. Fern and I were both removed from the home, but charges were never laid.” Trees whizzed past but he wasn’t seeing them, or the road, or Delilah. He was remembering the absolute sense of loss and abandonment of that time. “I learned later they adopted Fern back into their home.”
The unfairness of it, all these years later hit him anew.
Delilah pulled over on the side of the road with a spray of grit. He had no idea where they were, but there was no sign of anyone else nearby.
She reached out to grip his hand, and he held on tight.
Tears flooded his own eyes—a grown man of nearly 34, an elite tactical operator, bawling his eyes out because of something that had happened to him as a child.
“I decided fuck them. Fuck them all. I was in it for me only at this point. I changed schools. My grades went back up. I made friends but I didn’t let anyone get real close, you know?” No one except her. “Then one day in eighth grade, we had a field trip to a Naval Base in Fort Worth. I saw a poster for the SEALs—an operator, geared up and sitting on the outside rails of a helicopter, looking like the coolest thing I’d ever seen—and this guy, some dumb fuck recruiting asshole who sat behind a desk all day, looked at me and said, SEALs were elite. Only a small number of men even got accepted into SEAL training let alone passed BUD/S and not to get my hopes up.” Cas huffed out a watery breath and wiped his eyes. “‘Not get my hopes up.’ Man, what a thing to say to an abandoned, abused child.” He shook his head and gave a humorless smile. “Well, I showed him. I couldn’t control who loved me or wanted me, but I could control how hard I studied, and I could control my physical fitness, and I could apply to the fucking Navy if I wanted. I could be a goddamn Navy SEAL if I wanted. So that’s how I ended up a straight-A student and star athlete of my high school. Focused on being the best at everything I could possibly master in an effort to prove everyone was wrong about me.”
It sounded so pathetic and cliché to say it out loud.
“And I think when I met you everything between us was so perfect…” He closed his eyes at the memory of how good it had been to fully connect with someone possibly for the first time in his life. He opened his eyes and stared straight into hers. He touched her face. Cupped her cheek. “I loved you more than I’d ever loved anything—even more than I’d loved being part of that pseudo family who’d pretended to want me.”
She sobbed then. Grabbed his wrist.
“Delilah, what we had was so very perfect I was absolutely terrified down to my marrow that it was going to crash around me in flames and you were going to leave me. Maybe not immediately, but eventually—or you were gonna die on me because you were so fucking fearless, and that would be my fault too. My bad luck would become your bad luck, and I couldn’t face that either.”
Her eyes shone like diamonds.
“I didn’t believe someone as incredible as you would want someone as damaged as me. So I didn’t tell you. I didn’t tell anyone. I shut it down. I shut us down,” he corrected, “so I didn’t have to deal with the loss of you at some point in the future.”
“Cas.” Her voice cracked.
His throat squeezed tight. “The smartest kid in the class, dumb as a fucking rock. I was that little boy terrified of losing it all again. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I convinced myself you’d get over me pretty quick and move on. I had no idea about the miscarriage or the fact you almost died. I would have come to you if I’d known either of those things. I’d have thrown away my chance to get into HRT and come no matter what or who—”
She unclipped her seatbelt and tucked her legs under her as she turned toward him. It was dark, but he could see her features in the dashboard lights. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her hair was windblown and wild. She had never looked more heartbreakingly beautiful.
He turned away.
“Cas?”
His hands were fists on his knees. He braced himself for her sympathy. For her acknowledgment that he’d been right all along or that it was too late and none of it mattered anymore. They could move on now. At least he’d told her the truth. He wouldn’t tell her about her father’s stupid threats. He’d been a fool to let the man come between them, but that was the least of it.
She touched his shoulder.
“I don’t want your pity. I never stopped loving you, but I was too much of a coward to tell you. Too much of a coward to stay. You’re right that I deliberately used tactics I knew would keep you from coming after me.” He smiled down at his lap then angled his head to look at her. “Pride is a deadly sin, you know.”
“Oh, I know.”
The grief in her voice shook him. That he’d joked about such a thing. “I’m sorry, Delilah. If I could go back and change things, I would. I’d—”
“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.” She took his hand and tugged.
His eyes went wide in surprise. “What?”
She grabbed the lapel of his suit jacket. “I said shut up and kiss me.”
Chapter Forty-Two
Delilah knew she was probably making a huge mistake, but she could no more stop than she could turn back time.
She had missed him. Missed his face, his smile, his touch. The way he’d tried to protect her even though he’d turned out to be the biggest danger she’d ever faced.
He released his seatbelt and knelt on the seat opposite, bending his head because he didn’t fit in the cab. She raised her hand and ran her palm over the rough stubble of his jaw all the way up to his ear, sinking her fingers into his silky hair.
What that woman had done to him. What the family had done. It made her so angry on so many levels.
“Are you sure?” He sounded so uncertain.
Like it wasn’t obvious she wanted, needed, him to kiss her. “Do I have to beg nowadays?”
His gold eyes flared in the dim light. “I’m the one who needs to beg. For a kiss, for scraps.”
He rested his hand on her hip, and his fingers tightened, pulling her toward him. He lowered his mouth slowly, their eyes locked as if they were both terrified that if they looked away this would prove to be a dream.
But the scent of him. The feel of his firm lips against hers. The touch of those strong fingers gripping her to him as if he were afraid to let go. It all felt achingly familiar.
He was warm when she hadn’t felt warm in years. She opened her mouth and invited him in. Tangling tongues, reawakening senses. Deepening the kiss, feeling her blood heat, her skin tingle, and her body flare to life.
She reached up and undid the top button of his shirt, then the next. He’d removed the tie earlier. She slid her hand inside the material and over the smooth muscles of his chest. Felt his heart pounding wildly beneath her palm.
Her fingers slipped to his belt buckle. He stopped her with his hand on hers and she stilled.
“You’re sure about this?” His voice was a low growl and she could feel the emotions vibrating through him.
She held his gaze. Nodded. She was very sure. Because maybe the memories were wrong? Maybe what she thought it had been like was all in her imagination. But more than that, she just wanted to be with him again.
“Then let’s take this to the back seat where we have a little more space.”
Part of her wanted to make a joke to release the tension, but she couldn’t speak, and she didn’t want to ruin it. She climbed between the seats. Cas quickly drove the truck farther into the woods, then turned off the headlights and followed her into the shadows. They were deep in the forest. Hopefully alone.
He took off his jacket and hung it on the headrest of the front seat. She did the same and suddenly felt weirdly like she didn’t know what to do anymore.
Maybe this was a mistake. Maybe—
“You’re so beautiful.” She heard him swallow.
She turned to make him out in the shadows. “You can’t see me.”
“I don’t need to see you. You’re seared on my brain like sunlight.”
They were pretty words. He’d always been good with pretty words.
“I don’t feel beautiful.” She confessed. “I haven’t felt beautiful since you left me.”
He shifted. “I’ll never forgive myself for what I did to you.”
She found his eyes in the darkness. “I’ll never forgive you either.”
He froze.
“But I understand it better now. You were wrong to do what you did. You were totally wrong, but I understand a little more. I just wished you’d trusted me enough to have a conversation. This conversation.”
He caught her hand and kissed her fingers one by one. “I do too. I was a coward.”
Still, he didn’t move toward her, and she bit her lip.
In the past he wouldn’t have given her the breath to speak. When they’d been alone, they’d devoured each other without thought to the consequences. But he made no move to kiss her again, and she realized that perhaps he was here, doing this out of some sense of guilt or obligation…and that thought was unbearable.
A person could be beautiful without invoking passion.
“It’s okay if you don’t want me anymore, Cas.” It would hurt, but it needed to be said. “It’s okay if you no longer find me sexually attractive or just want—”
“Not find you sexually attractive?” His voice was a heavy rasp. “I think you are the most divine creature to have ever walked the earth. I think that one day God up in heaven looked down at this small, sniveling creature named Casta Demarco and thought, what else can I do to try to bring this human to his knees? Oh, yes, a woman. I will create someone he can barely look at without getting tongue-tied and aroused even when surrounded by people who will judge him for it. I will create someone who steals the very oxygen from any room she walks into. Who makes his mouth water and his hands shake with desire. Who makes him weak and vulnerable in every circumstance. I’ll create this vision and let him fuck it up and make him think of her, regret the loss of her, every single day of his life. That should do it. That should finally be enough of a punishment for existing.” His voice was thick with fear rather than sugar-coated with charm. “Now I’m too terrified to touch you because I don’t want to hurt you. What if I screw it up again?”
“We can’t screw this up more than we already did.” She laughed a little. “There are no guarantees in life, Cas. Not for any of us. And us being here together now doesn’t guarantee us a future. But, perhaps, we could enjoy the moment. Life is short. We were both supposed to die this week, remember?”
Her eyes had adjusted to the dark, and he looked terrified by the reminder.
“I want what we used to have. I want the passion. The fire. I’m not some fragile creature.”
He shifted. “Lilah, you are the strongest person I ever met. I want you more with every breath and that doesn’t seem possible.”
The fact he called her Lilah, something he’d only ever done when they were intimate, gave her the courage he thought she possessed. She started undoing the buttons of her shirt. “Then prove it.”
His eyes changed then. Gaze sharpening on hers. “You want me to prove how much I want you?”
“Yes. No. God, it sounds so stupid when you say it like that.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m no good at seduction. You have all the fancy words, and I just have these feelings inside, screaming to get out. I used to have words…” She’d lost her voice when she’d lost him.
“You don’t need any words.” He grabbed her hands in his. “I did this to you, Delilah—me, someone who knows how easily breakable we all are beneath the surface. I’m so sorry I hurt you, baby. You want me to show you how you make me feel? I can do that, but you must tell me if you change your mind or if I am too rough. Because I’m not sure I can go slow or be gentle.”
“I don’t need slow or gentle.”
“I do.” He moved her hands aside and began to undo the remaining buttons of her shirt, taking his time to slip each carefully free of its buttonhole. When he reached the last one, he spread the shirt wide and took her in. He traced a finger over the curve of her breast encased in a simple cotton bra.
“I have dreamed about these breasts.”
Her nipples peaked against the fabric and he grazed his thumbnail gently over the tip of one.
“And these nipples. So pretty and pink.” He pushed the cup down and moved his thumb back and forth over the tight flesh.
She shuddered.
He leaned back to remove his shirt and weapon and holster as she tugged off her shirt, her gun, and toed off her shoes.
She went to undo her pants but his hands stopped hers. “Let me.”
She let him take over again, but it was awkward and cramped in the back seat, but that somehow seemed right. Being easy would be wrong. He pulled the material down her legs and over her ankles. Then he dragged her toward him so she was half lying down.
He pinned her hands and pressed them against her thighs as he eased her legs apart. She was still in her underwear but barely. She felt exposed. Vulnerable. Something she didn’t allow herself to be with anyone else. Ever.
He kissed her stomach, her hip bones, and then lower, sliding his tongue down the side of her panties at the crease of her leg before letting go of her hands to pull the material aside.
He found her clit first, unerringly settling his mouth on that nub of flesh that sent wildfire blazing through her body.
Her head went back and a cry came out of her mouth. He put his hands under her ass and shifted her bodily toward him, pushing her thighs wider and sinking his tongue into her core.
She bucked and throbbed and couldn’t breathe.
