Atonement (23 page)

“Maybe it's an answer you need to give in order to heal.”

She could have gotten whiplash from how fast her head snapped back in his direction. “There are just some things that can't be explained. And telling you why I hate him so much is one of them.”

“With the venom that drips from your voice every time, I could hazard a guess that it has something to do with your friend Aiden.”

Huffing at his persistence, Nic shoved off the grill and walked to the edge of the bluff. A light wind buffeted her face, and she tilted it to draw in a cleansing breath, closing her eyes. It was so peaceful up here. A good place to die.

Her eyes popped open, and she peered down at the rocky side that plunged into darkness. Had others come up here to plummet over the edge in order to end their miserable existences? Would someone else in the next day or so join the Walkers, Seth Moore, and Giselle Tomberlin?

Could it be Nic who took the step?

She was jerked away from the edge and flung back into Con's arms.

“What are ye t'inking?”

Struggling against his hold, she managed to get her hands between them and shove him back. “I was looking over the edge. What's it to you?”

He grabbed hold of her shoulders. “That's not what I saw. You were taking a step forward. Like you wanted to jump.”

“No ... ” Horror washed over her. Had her body begun to act on her thoughts?

Con bracketed her head with his hands, smoothing back her hair from her face. “Whatever you're trying to keep buried doesn't have to stay that way.”

“It's not that simple, Con. I'm bound to keep it buried.”

“Nothing is worth losing yourself over. I asked you to trust me enough to be there to help you. Don't become another statistic.”

She wrapped her fingers around his wrist and pulled his hands down. “You make it sound like if I just voice these demons you can magically make them disappear. I can't erase what I've seen. What I've done. And there's no miracle that can make me forget.”

“And do you think dying would make it go away? Have you not seen what's happening to the families of the people who've done just as you're thinking? What it did to you when you found Aiden?”

“I'm not that selfish. Hell, my continued existence is a thorn in The General's side. Because as long as I walk the earth I hold the key to his undoing.”

Con frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing. Forget I said it.” She tried to get past him, but his arm hooked around her waist stopped her.

“You can't walk away from me this time.”

“I'm not your possession. You've already manhandled me, and so help me, I'll put you down if you try it again.” She froze at a warning grunt from her left. Cadno was hunched down, his head lowered and watching her.

“He likes you, Nic, but his loyalty belongs to me, and he will stop you if you try anything.”

“Must be nice to have someone so dedicated to you.”

“You have that, too.”

“From who?”

“Your sister.” He caressed her cheek. “Me.”

Nic shivered at the tender drop in his voice. He was too close, but she didn't want him to let go. Their intimate dance last night stuck with her; she couldn't shake the feeling of his body pressed tightly to hers. The remembrance of his heart drumming in her ear. They had come so close to kissing last night, until she panicked and bolted from the chance.

“I don't deserve your loyalty, Con. It's dangerous for you to even think of it.”

“Because you're scared?”

“Because it can be used against me.”

“I'm a big boy, Nic. I can take care of myself.”

“Aiden believed that.”

Con let a hand trail down her arm to intertwine his fingers with hers. “What happened to Aiden was tragic. But I'm not him. You're not poison.”

“You don't know that.”

“I don't have to know. I believe it.”

“You're a—”

His kiss silenced her. At first, Nic stiffened at his invasion of her lips, but as he drew her in to him, her muscles relaxed, and she returned his kiss with the same fervor. For a brief moment she compared Con's kiss to Aiden's before banishing it. Con held more passion than she'd ever experienced, and she drank it in like an alcoholic craving her next shot.

Her arms coiled around his neck, and she rose up on her tiptoes. A fire exploded in her belly when his hands ran down the length of her back, cupped her rear, and then gripped the back of her thighs. He hoisted her up, never breaking his contact with her mouth, and she slung her legs around his waist. With each step closer to the truck, Con's mouth moved away from hers, nipping and trailing kisses down her neck.

Setting her on the passenger seat, he returned his lips to hers, deepening the kiss until she was moaning. Nic was losing her mind and control of her body. She wanted him, but not like this. Not here like two hormone-crazed teenagers.

A
woof!
broke their trance. The MWD had his front paws braced on the running board, waiting to get inside.

Nic gripped Con's chin and lifted his head to look at her. “Let's take this someplace else.”

Con stretched languidly. His arm breached the empty space next to him; hurt lanced his chest. He rolled onto his side and stared at the rumpled indentation of Nic's body where it had been in his bed. She'd practically bent him like a pretzel last night and then ran out of here, taking the walk of shame.

It had all been too good to be true.

The bedroom door creaked open, bringing with it the aroma of bacon and coffee. Con flopped onto his back just as Cadno vaulted onto the bed and lathered his face with a warm tongue.

“Get off me, you mangy mutt.” Con pushed Cadno away and froze.

She hadn't left, she was still here, and standing in the doorway, wearing one of his t-shirts. Nic held up a steaming mug. “I see you're awake.”

He couldn't take his eyes off her bare legs or forget how they wrapped around his waist. Closing his eyes and opening them again, he focused on her face and mussed hair. She definitely was a picture worth waking up to. A smile curled up the corner of her mouth, and Con felt his insides melt.

“I've certainly never waken to a sight such as the one before me.”

“There's that Irish charm working its way out again.” Nic moved closer to the bed. “Don't think it'll work on me so easily next time.”

He chuckled. “I believe it worked well enough to get you right where you are.”

Nic set the mug on the table next to his bed and shooed Cadno off the bed before sliding in beside Con. He wrapped an arm around her and nuzzled her warm neck, kissing the tender point just under her jaw that made her tremble.

“I don't want to leave here,” she whispered.

He felt the same way. Reality waited for them outside of these four walls. The biggest obstacle in her path was facing off with her father. Con's was keeping Nic from actually acting on her threats to physically harm her father. It had been a miracle that Con bodily removed her from the situation last night. When he threw her over his shoulder and lugged her away, she nearly upset his balance with the force of her struggles. Nic's small frame was misleading.

Here, wrapped around her, he was willing to let the world go by without them.

But duty called.

“Let's focus on getting through the day. The parade will keep us preoccupied.”

“Can't we skip the whole thing and ignore them all?”

Smoothing back the wild strands of her hair, Con coiled a lock around his finger. “If only. But our bosses and their bosses won't be too happy if we shirk our duties.”

“Speaking of, did you let Hamilton know about Walker?”

“Yes, and it wasn't a pleasant conversation, either.”

Nic lifted her head from his shoulder and propped herself up on an elbow. She lightly ran a fingernail over his chest. “What did Walker say?”

“I have no idea. Shane didn't want me around when he confronted him about it. Mr. Agent Man, however, was asked to stay. Probably because he's an outsider.”

“Probably.” Nic stilled her movements and placed her palm over his heart. “I can't face him. I'm just as likely to shoot him dead than to speak with him ever again.”

She wasn't talking about Walker anymore. This was about her father. Con clasped his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles. “I gathered that from last night's encounter.”

Her gaze flicked to his, and then she moved to straddle his hips. Con sucked in a breath as her naked body rubbed against his. Bending over him, she let her hair tickle his face as she brushed a kiss to his lips.

“We've got an hour before I have to report,” she said against his mouth.

“I don't think I have the energy for another round. You wrung me out.”

“That's not the impression your body is giving.” She smirked and kissed him deeply.

With a growl, he flipped her onto her back and leaned over her. “You're insatiable.”

“You have no idea,” she muttered as he peeled off the t-shirt.

• • •

Nic adjusted her radio on her shoulder and cued the transmitter. “Check, one, two. Do you hear me, Jennings? Over.”

“Loud and clear, over.”

Jennings was on the tail end of the parade route, while Hamilton was doing his civic/political duty by riding one of his favored horses in the parade. From the sounds of the sheriff's complaint this morning, it appeared this had been a last-minute change by the mayor. Nic hoped it hadn't come about because of what she and Con discovered from Flo yesterday at the strip bar. Thankfully, the Eider chief of police took over command and was currently keeping with the plan, minus one deputy. She sighed and hiked along the sidewalk around the town square where early arrivals were setting up for the best viewing and candy-nabbing positions. For the most part no one made any comments toward her, but she did catch a few of the odd looks. Strangely, none of it affected her.

Her body still hummed from her night in Con's arms. She hadn't felt this good in a long time. The only thing that could snuff out her little spark of happiness was a chance encounter with The General. So far she'd managed to avoid contact with him, thanks in part to Cassy's quick thinking. But Nic was still upset with her sister, and they'd hash this out later.

The radio clicked. “The parade is a go, people. Everyone should be in position,” the police chief said.

Those working the route gave their signals. Nic halted and scanned the line of people across the street. They were filling the sidewalk three deep on each side. The town square was the popular spot along the route due to the shade and businesses that were open for the festival and post-parade fun. It was also where the parade announcer was set up on the bandstand in the center of the square. Nic had been assigned the busiest section—alone.

Walker was supposed to have been her partner along here, but from what the sheriff explained to Nic this morning, Walker was suspended for obstructing an investigation. Con couldn't leave his post further down the route because he had his hands full with making sure people didn't stand in the middle of the street and block the parade as it took a turn to march along the river. She could do this. It wasn't like she hadn't dealt with difficult situations on her own in the past.

A group of boys barreled out from behind a war memorial on the green, bumping into a young girl on the sidewalk. Nic's hand shot out, catching the girl by her shoulders before she hit the concrete. One of the boys managed to throw back an apology before disappearing into the crowd. The girl flashed Nic a smile and a thank you, then hurried over to her mother, who was frowning. Gripping the brim of her cap, Nic gave the woman a nod and moved on. No sense in making her mad.

The faint strains of music came over the chatter going on around her. Someone called out, “Here they come,” and the kids surged to the edge of the street.

Nic didn't let the excitement distract her. Her focus began to tunnel, searching for threats, danger. The cacophony of the people along the street, the band, and the music blaring from the floats shifted down to background noise. Her mouth went dry as her gaze darted from person to person, noting what their hands were doing, where their attention was focused, what they were doing.

The parade leaders passed, some tossing candy. A piece arched high over the heads of the people in front of Nic and smacked her face. Startled, she took a step back and gasped.

Shit.

She shouldn't be here.

The noise crashed into her, making her head pound from the overwhelming sounds. Her radio crackled in her ear.

“Doing well, people. Keep it up.”

Her chest heaving, Nic backpedaled away from the crowd. Lifting a trembling hand to her mouth, she wiped spittle from her lips. She stared at the shaking appendage, fighting the urge to reach for her weapon and draw. Instead, she grasped the edges of her jacket and clenched it in her fists.

Kids squealed as more candy came flying from the farm insurance float. Nic closed her eyes and drew in deep breaths, straining her chest against the Kevlar under her uniform top. Beads of sweat began to make tracks down her back and between her breasts. Swallowing, she opened her eyes.

She could do this. Damn it! She had to do this.

Bringing herself back under control as much as she could, Nic released the death grip on her jacket and forced her feet to move. If she kept her blood flowing, maybe she could manage her hyper-awareness. This was the worst possible time to have a PTSD meltdown.

The mayor's 1960s Cadillac appeared from behind the Cornell Volunteer Fire Department's truck. Nic watched the man wave from the back seat while his son-in-law drove and his wife beamed next to him. The smug bastard was screwing around on his wife, and the poor woman probably didn't have a clue.