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Tia
I woke up smelling of sex and Casper and I smiled as I rolled onto my back, arms reaching overhead as I stretched.
Something cold poked my foot and I pushed up onto my elbows to see Valkyrie watching me balefully.
“Life’s weird,” I told her.
A week ago, I didn’t have a dog, a lover or a clue that somebody wanted to kill me because my brother had done his job as a cop.
Now, all three of those things were true and here I was, breathing in the scent of the man who’d kidnapped me, flipped my world upside down...and told me I was the only lover he’d ever had. Ever would have.
“We’re talking,” I told Valkyrie. “That man and I? We’re talking.”
The house was strangely quiet, but not empty. As I pulled on a shirt—his—I could feel him, as if he were waiting for me.
A big, empty ache settled inside and I swallowed around the knot that had formed in my throat. I wanted to run and hide.
I found him on the front porch, four large black duffels lined up in a neat row. He sat on the top step, staring at the SUV. He didn’t look up as I sat down next to him, although he was every bit as aware of me as I was of him.
“You’re leaving,” I said quietly.
“We both know I have to. There are things that need to be done before you’ll be safe.” He didn’t look away from the SUV. “Until those things are done, you can’t go back to your life, Tia. And you deserve to have that life, one where you’re safe and happy.”
Instead of answering that specifically, I said, “If it wasn’t for my brother and Bianca, I could almost see myself having a happy one here.”
I didn’t look at him as I spoke.
But from the corner of my eye, I could see his reaction.
He’d finally moved, turning his head so he stared out over the eastern sky as the sun crept up over the horizon. “You should take care with what you say, precious. I don’t give a damn about your brother or your friend. I could see myself keeping you here, even when this is all said and done. So don’t tempt me.”
“That you even admit you want to be with me is something.” I leaned into him, closing my eyes against the knot in my chest. “Tell me you’re not just going to completely disappear once this is over, Casper.”
He was quiet for so long, I thought that was the answer—one I dreaded, one I hated.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to breathe around the ache spreading through my chest and that just made it worse, like the very act of drawing in air, something necessary for life, exacerbated this visceral agony.
He turned his head and I shuddered as he buried his face in my hair, breathing me in.
“You know how impossible this is,” he said, voice strangely gentle. “You have a family—your brother and your friend—people who love you. You have a job that brings you joy. You have a life. Where would I fit into any of that?”
Desperation shoved me into motion and I went to my knees in front of him, pushing my way between his thighs and grabbing his face in my hands.
That beautiful face.
That hard face.
“Exactly where we put you,” I said stubbornly. “Where do you want to fit into it?”
He covered my hands with his. “That’s just it, precious. I can’t fit into it. Consider what I am, Tia.”
My mouth started to tremble and I pressed my lips together. “I know what you are. And don’t tell me you’re a monster. You’re not a monster. If you were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. A monster wouldn’t care.”
“Perhaps I’m not the monster I thought I was. But that doesn’t change what I am.” He arched a dark gold brow. “A killer. A murderer. I’ve killed people on six continents, in more than eighty countries. I never bothered counting, but I keep excellent records and I could give you a number if it would make it easier for you to understand.”
A hard knot settled in my belly.
“You didn’t kill me,” I said, my breath catching in my throat as my control threatened to break.
His lashes swept down, hiding his eyes for a long moment, then he looked at me again. “It doesn’t change the fact that I have blood on my hands. And I don’t feel guilt over the lives I’ve taken.”
A tear spilled out.
He brushed his lips over my cheek, catching the wet drop.
“How would you explain me to your brother, this cop who has led a Boy Scout’s life?”
I went to wrench away from him.
His hands fell away but I stumbled and lost my balance and he caught me, steadying me.
“You understand now, don’t you?” he said after I smacked off his hands and stormed away, standing at the far edge of the gravel walkway.
“I don’t care what my brother thinks about you,” I said.
But I heard the lie in my own voice.
So did he.
“I won’t bring pain into your life, Tia.”
“You leaving it will bring pain, you bastard,” I said, spinning around to glare at him. “If you don’t want to bring me pain, find a way to make this work!”
He bowed his head, staring at the ground. “I can’t change who I am.”
“I don’t want you to change.” And I didn’t. Somehow, I’d fallen for this scary, dangerous man. Scary, spooky Spectre...and I wanted him just the way he was.
And yet...
He lifted his head a fraction, staring at me through the veil of his lashes. “When I disappear for three weeks at a time and come back to you, when I slide between your sheets and press my body to yours, will it not bother you, thinking about where I’ve been, what I did...who I killed?”
“Stop.” More tears fell now and I dashed them away, angry now on top of the misery. “Damn you, just stop.”
“That is who I am, Tia. You cannot tell me you don’t want me to change without considering what it is you’d be getting into if I was foolish enough to do this.” He rose, the movement fluid and graceful.
I went rigid as he came toward me, his eyes pinning me in place. “And I’m tempted. More than you know, more than I even realized I could be tempted. But what will you tell your brother? How will your brother, this good, decent cop, react to the knowledge that his beloved sister is involved with a killer wanted by law enforcement agencies across the globe?”
“It’s not like I plan on telling him,” I muttered.
“He’ll know,” Casper said simply. “And you know that.”
I did.
“Damn you.” This time, it almost choked me and more tears fell, blinding me. I wiped them away but it didn’t matter because a river of them continued to rain down. “Why can’t you make this work?”
He reached for me.
I shoved him and his hands fell away. The anger exploded and I swung out. He didn’t even try to move, his head snapping back as my fist smashed into his mouth. Then I grabbed him and pulled his head down to mine. “I’m sorry...I’m sorry...”
He wrapped his arms around me and let me kiss the small, bleeding cut and when I started crying again, he picked me up and carried me into the house, sitting on the couch with my head tucked under his chin.
He said nothing.
Perhaps there was nothing left to say.
His fingers stroked through my hair and after a while, exhausted by the emotional storm, I fell asleep.
When I woke, he was gone.
And I knew he wasn’t just outside.
A piece of paper, folded and propped up, with my name written in elegant, neat script, waited on the simple table a few feet in front of me.
Valkyrie lay curled next to me on the couch, as if she’d known I’d need her.
Burying my face in her fur, I willed my mind to empty of anything and everything.
If I didn’t think, I wouldn’t hurt.