Return to Poughkeepsie (49 page)

The suburban neighborhood he was currently occupying was full of life now, and neighbors strolled outside for a look at the house that had caused all the commotion. He needed to get a glass company in here. He needed to be a good neighbor. And if he really loved Eve—sick, twisted bastard that he was—he needed to push her toward something more than he could give her. Even if she wasn’t sure she wanted it, she deserved the chance to figure her life out, no matter how long it took. Hell, he owed her five years.

So much in his life felt out of his hands now, so Beckett turned to the shit he knew he needed to get done. He needed to get the damn money back from twatbag Sevan Harmon, and he needed to check in on Chery and Vere. And probably he should’ve started with Rodolfo’s crap, but damned if he didn’t need a win first—a win he’d brought about on his own.

Chery answered her own phone, which was good.

“Hey, pretty. How’s things?” Beckett slid down the wall in the hall and sat on the floor.

“Beckett, how are you?” He listened to the background noise on her call, trying to figure out if she was still in the hospital. “I’m better. I’ll be checking out of this crappy hotel in a few minutes.” Her voice held hesitation.

“Glad to hear it. Just so you know, the liquor store and my house are going to be put in your name. Chaos will manage the store, and he’s on my payroll. But if he pisses you off in any way, I’ll send someone else.” He heard her exhale in relief.

“That’s too much. Boss, I’m just a cashier.”

“Nah. You’re a fantastic person, and you’re Vere’s sister, so that makes you super important. And you’re a hell of a cashier as well. Speaking of which, I took G, and I know Vere must be disappointed. Would it be okay if I got her a dog?” Beckett looked at the ceiling, picturing Vere’s sweet face.

“Well, sure. You don’t have to do that, though. You’ve done so much. I can’t thank you en—”

Beckett interrupted her. “It was nothing. Listen, I’ve another offer for you, and it is what it is. No pressure—just an option. I did some thinking on your baby situation, like you asked me to.”

“Okay.” She sounded hesitant.

“If you want to pass that baby on to a set of parents, I know a couple that’ll take him.” Beckett heard the words come out of his mouth and realized it was almost too big a decision to make.

Silence was her only answer for a long while. Then Chery asked Beckett to tell her all about them. He left nothing out. By the time he was done describing his brother and sister-in-law, Chery would’ve been able to pick them out in a crowd without ever having seen a picture.

“They sound amazing. And real. I’d love to meet them,” Chery commented before telling him she had to go. The nurse was there with her exit papers. Beckett heard Chaos’s greeting in the background as he hung up, which made him smile.

The next number he hadn’t called in five years, though he still texted her on occasion.

“How’s Gandhi? Is there a problem?” Kristen was all business when she answered.

“He’s a snoring, humping mess, and I love him.” Beckett smiled. “He’s actually been amazing for a friend of mine who has autism. Unfortunately, I can’t even imagine parting with G, and I’ve had to move back to Poughkeepsie. You have anybody in the shelter who needs a get-out-of-death-free card? I’ll get them all their shots and cut off their balls and shit.”

“You know, you were the best wrong choice I ever made. Come by tomorrow, after hours like last time. I got a few I’d love to show you.”

After hanging up with Kristen, Beckett sat in the hallway a little longer. She was correct. He was always the wrong choice.

37

Good Soul

R
YAN
K
EPT
L
OOKING
O
VER
A
T
E
VE
, but she was quiet the whole way back from that asshole’s house. Her clothes were in disarray—like she’d been attacked. But he couldn’t imagine anyone getting one over on her now.

He hated that he’d pussied out and gone to get her. But McHugh had a soft spot for Eve, and what was he supposed to do after his captain told him her location? Ryan definitely had a soft spot for her too.

She took a shower when they got home, leaving the whole apartment smelling like her conditioner and lotion when she was done. She came out with wet hair, in a tank top and jeans. He had brunch almost ready, so she set out plates and glasses. Still Eve said nothing. She was so damn hard to read. They sat when he’d put the food on the table.

Finally, the silence did him in. “I’m not going to get you again. Ever.”

She put down her fork and regarded him.

“This isn’t a threat. It’s me telling you I’m never pulling you out of his house. I’m not a forgiving kind of guy.” Ryan forced himself to keep eating.

“You shouldn’t be. And I never asked you to come for me.”

“I know we haven’t been…intimate. And I have no claims on you. It’s just…” He wanted to be firm, be some sort of alpha for her.

She waited, with a look in her clear blue eyes that said she already knew everything he was planning to tell her.

“You don’t need to hear this.” He put his fork down.

Eve stood and pulled her wet hair to one side. As a reflex, he slid his chair out as she sat in his lap. Her eyes went from sharp and clear to a faraway gaze.

She hugged his head to her chest and kissed the top of his head. He put his arms around her waist. “You’re my dream guy, from a long time ago. When I was a kid? Ugh. I had the hugest crush on policemen—the uniform, the gun. I had fantasies of getting pulled over and the cop asking for my number. God, I was so naïve.” She grabbed his chin and made him look in her eyes. “You deserve to find a lady who still believes in that stuff. Someone you’d be a hero to.” She was soft, her whole face was easy, unguarded.

“I’ll be your hero.” He knew it was cheesy, but he was dead serious.

“I’m a perp, Ryan. I’m the bad guy. The worst.”

She was still soft. He didn’t know what the hell she was even saying. She stood and twisted so she could straddle him. Almost urgently, like she was leaving.

“I’ve killed people. More than I can count anymore. So much blood…”

Ryan leaned forward and placed one finger on the button of her jeans. She allowed the kiss he gave her as he used the finger to lift her tank top above her taut abs. His lust pounded in his ears, between his legs. He was barely able to hear her over the rush of his desire. For months they’d spent endless time together, pretended to be in love, yet she’d never made love to him.

“Would sex with me make it all better?” she demanded. “Could you live with who I am? Could you sleep next to a person who can torture a grown man until he cries for his mother?”

Her lips were saying words he knew he should heed. There was a warning for his heart laced in the syllables. Instead Ryan stood, lifting her, and walked her to the couch, where he lay her on her back. She looked defeated, disappointed.

“I have no idea what the fuck you want. Is this a confession? An offering? Are you having fun teasing me? Teasing my dick? Fuck, Eve, I just got you out of a murdering bastard’s house.”

She just lay there, like she expected as much from him. He sat on the coffee table.

“That’s what I am, Ryan. And I want to make sure you hate me,” she said quietly. Eve turned her face toward the cushion, her hair dripping like gold silk off his crappy couch.

“Well, that’s the bitch of it. ’Cause I’m pretty damn sure I love you.” The words sounded much more hollow than they’d felt in his chest.

She sat up and swung her legs around so she was sitting properly. “I used you. This hasn’t been fair.”

And there it was, his heart flayed open. He closed his eyes as the pain took root. She came close to him again, when she should be leaving. Eve hugged his head, pulling him to her stomach.

“I never thought I’d care if you were hurting. But damn you, Ryan, you have a way of getting inside. Do you know how numb I am? How dead I have to be to kill someone?”

She went to her knees, parting his legs to hug him around his middle. He gripped the table to keep from showing her affection. The wood protested his force with a crack. He wanted her.

“I wanted kids who chased lightning bugs and ate sticky ice pops on hot summer days. I needed the most normal stuff—snowmen and stepping on Legos. I needed a guy that bitched about his day who I could sneak into the bedroom while the kids watched a movie.”

She twisted until she had him in a deadly headlock. Her voice was so different when she spoke again. “This is what I’m good at now. Snapping spines and inserting knives. Plotting and killing and committing the kind of crimes that should have me in prison forever.” She slapped his own handcuffs on his wrists smoothly.

She moved around him, torturing him by rubbing her breasts across his face. Spreading her legs, she straddled him again. “Can you stomach that? To have me? Are you going to lie to everyone? What will you say when I come home covered in blood and you never find the crime scene because I’m too fucking good to get caught?”

Eve was biting him now, clawing his skin. His moan was probably heard four blocks away. His dick was trapped in his jeans, and it was going to die there soon. He stood, but she was too quick. She caught her balance and stood with him. And that’s how they were: criminal and cop. He with his hands cuffed and she with tears of defeat in her eyes.

“What if I told you this is all bullshit?” He stepped toward her as he worked to dislocate his thumb. “What if I said you don’t have the balls to live like a stand-up bitch? And maybe I’m twice as deadly as you?” With that he pulled his hands from behind his back. Using the chain and cuff to aid in his restraint, he had Eve facedown with his knee in her back like the felon she was claiming to be. “All I have to do is lean in and your spine cracks. You’ll be paralyzed from the moneymaker down.” He put weight on her. “And maybe you shouldn’t be so certain that sleeping next to me is the safest fucking thing either.”

He waited for her to cry uncle, to beg even a little for him to let up on her. The best she could do was sigh. He stepped off of her and gathered her against his chest. He expected the tiger fight in her eyes, not a tear escaping. He let her go, mumbling, “I’m sorry. I scared you.”

She laughed then, one empty cackle before covering her mouth.

He sighed. It hurt to look at her. She was still so beautiful and vulnerable.

“You do scare me, but not in the way you think.” She backhanded the tear from her face like it’d pissed her off. “You’re like a ghost to me. You remind me of the man I lost, the one I pictured that perfectly, wonderfully normal future with. He was kind and amazing, but when it really came down to it? I knew he’d fight for me. He’d want to save me too.” She rubbed her eyes.

Ryan walked away from her and found his handcuff key on his desk. He freed his other hand and relocated his thumb. “So is this a bad thing or a good thing?”

“Years ago I killed two men.” She waited.

When she didn’t go on, his cop brain jumped to conclusions. “Nikko and Wade?” He knew his eyes were wild.

Eve kept her eyes on him while she nodded almost imperceptibly.

The kick to his core shook his being. He dropped his handcuffs and keys, putting his hands in his hair, shaking his head.

“You’re protecting him. I know it was him.” He pointed at her.

She shook her head. “No.”

Ryan could feel his skin burning. He bent forward and wanted to throw up. After all these years, he was face to face with the killer he’d sought. And all he wanted to do was make love to her.

“Wade was the second. I took him to another location.” She laced her fingers together.

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear you.” Ryan stood up and shook his head.

“I had a knife in his kidney. He thought he might survive. I let him believe that until I had him in the car. And then…” She began rocking a bit.

“Stop. Anything you say can and will be used against you—”

She kept on. “I told him he was going to die.”

“No.”

“And he said, ‘But don’t you understand? My nephew needs me.’” That tear was back, painting her cheek with the only regret she showed.

All Ryan could do was growl a warning noise at her. He was close to making her stop, and yet he couldn’t form coherent thoughts.

“I killed him by twisting that knife like a key in a door. I took him to the woods and lit his body on fire. I buried the ashes.” Her voice cracked at the last bit.

Ryan shook, his whole body reacting to the torture she described.

“He was one of many, but it was the nephew part that stuck with me.” She glared at him, eyes blazing. “Still want to save me? Still want me to be the pretty girlfriend? This is what I am now. This is all I can be. I can’t make anything I’ve done go away. Do you get it?” Eve held her hands out, like she was expecting judgment to be placed in them.

His voice was hoarse. “Why?”

“That’s not important.”

“Yes, it is. You owe me that much. Tell me fucking why!” His voice was loud, too loud. He didn’t care.