Rock point collection, p.92
Rock Point Collection, page 92
A bit embarrassed I pull back, putting a smile on my face. “Not to worry, it was a silly idea.” I turn to the stove where my potatoes have probably mashed themselves by now. I reach out to take the pot off the burner, when he grabs my elbow and turns me around.
“Not silly at all, and you didn’t let me finish.” His eyes smile looking down on me. “What I was trying to get to is that I’m on call this weekend, so Max will be staying at my parents. I’ll have to be at the office for some time during the day, but unless there’s an emergency, I plan to be home around six. If your mother is on board coming here to look after the boys, so they don’t have to be disrupted—however the night pans out—we could plan to meet at my place. I’ll pick up dinner on the way.” He smiles and brushes the pad of his thumb over my cheek. “That is, if you’re willing to take the risk I may have to bail in case of an emergency.”
“I can check with Mom,” I tell him, trying hard not to give myself away by grinning like a loon.
“So we have a plan.”
“Looks that way.”
He lightly brushes my lips with his before carefully setting me aside. He takes the pan from the stove, and drains the water in the sink. “Do you have cream cheese?” he asks, as he pulls the potato masher from the stone utensil pot sitting next to the stove.
He takes me by surprise; apparently, he’s making the mashed potatoes. I open the fridge, pull out the makings for a quick salad, and a brick of Philly I leave next to him on the counter.
I do all of this grinning like the Cheshire cat.
-
“See you Saturday morning?”
We’re back on my front step. Max is already buckled up in the car and Dylan holds my hand in his.
Dinner had been a lively affair, with the exception of Liam, who kept mostly quiet. Between Max and Harry, though, conversation was never lacking.
My pulled pork was fabulous, if I say so myself, and Dylan’s fluffy potatoes were the best I’ve ever tasted. But the absolute winner was the dessert he threw together with ingredients from my pantry and freezer, at the boys’ urging. Peanut butter chocolate sundaes.
According to Max, they’re even better with crushed salted peanuts—which I didn’t have—but the plain vanilla ice cream, stirred with semi-sweet chocolate chips and drizzled with melted peanut butter, was to die for.
It was also a million calories, and on top of an already rich dinner, it feels like I’ve put on twenty pounds in the past hour and a half.
Just as Dylan starts bending toward me, I stifle a yawn, making him smile.
“Tired?”
“Food coma.” I grin back and his eyes fix on my mouth, his intent obvious. “Max is watching,” I caution him.
“Don’t care. He’ll have to get used to me kissing you,” he counters, right before his lips touch mine, his tongue sliding inside.
The kiss is short, but so exquisite; I’m still blinking away my daze when he backs out of my driveway a few minutes later.
FIFTEEN
Dylan
“You getting ready for work?”
It’s Friday afternoon and I’m sitting at the conference table in the office, looking for some privacy to call Marya.
We’ve been whittling down the list of registered sex offenders all day. With the lab working on the semen found on Seth during the autopsy to get a DNA profile—hopefully sooner than later—we’re focusing on those for whom we don’t have a viable DNA sample on file.
We’d been about to head out to get a start on the grunt work of collecting swabs, when I was digging around my pockets for my keys and my hand encountered a folded piece of paper. The Montrose police report.
With everything going on last night, I’d completely forgotten about it, so I told Toni—who was unfortunately once again assigned to come with me—to hold on so I could make a call.
“Mom should be here soon, and uh…” Marya adds in a softer voice that shoots straight to my dick. “She can do tomorrow night as well.”
I push the heel of my hand down on my crotch, discouraging my cock from rising to the occasion. I have no desire to go interview a sexual deviant, with Toni in tow, about to bust out of my fly. “That’s good news, Sweetheart. There’s something I should have told you last night, but didn’t get around to.”
“Oh?”
I hate the reserved caution I can hear in the single syllable and quickly give her the details. Ripping off the bandage so to speak.
“I’m not exactly a fan, but I’m sorry this happened to her. No one deserves that.”
“You’ve got that right.”
She’s quiet for a moment, and then asks, “Why would they want to talk to me?”
“Jasper was looking to find something on Jeremy, talked to the Montrose PD and discovered they’re looking for him. I assume they want to ask some questions about your recent run-ins, but fair warning, I think they’ll also be asking you about your history with him.”
“Okay,” she mumbles, sounding reluctantly resigned. “Not exactly a proud time in my life, but I guess I can’t change what happened.”
“Look, I can’t begin to understand what it must be like to relive that, but maybe the information you can add will strengthen this woman’s case against him. A way for you to get some justice of your own for what he did to you.”
Silence again.
“Babe?”
Her voice is low and full of emotion when she answers. “She’s stronger than I am. I should’ve done what she’s doing, but instead I—”
“Instead you focused all your energy on making sure three young boys had a good life. Christ, Marya, you denied yourself the opportunity for justice, so his crap wouldn’t come near your kids. If that kind of sacrifice doesn’t spell strength, I don’t know what does.”
I berate myself for not bringing this up last night. I could’ve held her so she could look me in the eye and see I mean every word.
“Thanks, but…oh, Mom’s here.”
I can hear muffled greetings in the background. “I’ll let you go.”
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna try and be there at least for the first half of the game tomorrow. Clint and Ma will be there to take Max after.”
“I could’ve dropped him off at theirs after the game.”
“Appreciate that. I didn’t ask because Ma already said they’d be there. Anyway, I should let you get to work and I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“Yes, you will,” she almost whispers. “Looking forward to it.”
“Not as much as I am, Sweetheart.”
With that I quickly end the call, adjust my fly, and walk out of the conference room, almost knocking into Toni who’s leaning against the wall just outside the door.
“Ready?” she chirps, hiding a flash of shock behind a toothy smile, and I know in that moment she’s been listening in.
I briefly consider calling her out on it, but decide on a sharp look before marching past her instead. Probably best not to validate whatever fucked-up shit is going on in her head by giving it more attention.
The one positive: my hard-on is instantly subdued.
-
“Are you with her?”
We’re just leaving our first stop when she hits me with that.
I whip my head around. “Are you for fucking real?” At least she has the sense to look almost embarrassed.
“I’m just curious—” She immediately silences when I snap my hand up from the steering wheel, taking a deep breath in.
“I see you still haven’t gotten the message,” I bite off. “There is absolutely nothing—not a single fucking thing—appropriate about your question. Whatever makes you think you get to ask me something like that, get it out of your fucking head. You’re a grunt I have to put up with at the boss’s orders, because there’s no other way I’d be willing to even share the same air. You tossed the last of your rights in the trash last time I saw you, coming out of that clinic in Denver.”
I have to slam on the brakes when the lights turn red, the Expedition skidding a few feet into the intersection. Better keep my head, or I’m gonna get us both killed.
“Please don’t fucking talk,” I snap when I hear her suck in a breath. “Don’t say a word or, so help me God, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
There is no way I can work with this woman. The rage still blazes like it was yesterday when she’s around me. I’m going to have to talk to Damian first chance I get.
Rather than heading to the next address on our list, I turn us around and head straight back to the office. Damian’s truck is still in the parking lot. Ignoring her, I slam the SUV in park, get out, and head inside to have a talk with my boss. No time like the present.
I can hear her heels clicking behind me when I take the stairs two at a time.
“Dylan, please wait.”
I don’t listen and barge into the office. Damian and Jasper are bent over a map, both their heads snapping up at my noisy entrance. Two sets of eyes regard me curiously.
“Got a minute?” I direct at Damian, indicating his office.
He nods and starts heading there when the door flies open behind me, stopping him in his tracks. I force myself not to look behind me, but keep my eyes focused on my boss, who shoots glances from me to her and back. Then he starts moving again and I follow him into his office, closing the door behind me.
“It’s bleeding into the job, Barnes,” he starts before his ass is in his chair.
“It is, but it’s not me probing the wound,” I fire back immediately.
“You sure about that? The woman looks like she’s suffering.”
I’m surprised at the statement, but I also know she’s a hell of an actress.
“Wouldn’t be the first time and have it be a lie.”
Damian’s turn to look surprised. Although, whether it’s because of what I’m implying, or my unusually callous delivery, I don’t know.
“Maybe you’d like to clarify.”
“Honestly? No. She hasn’t left me another option, though, so you’re getting the whole sordid story.” I lift my ankle on my knee, mostly to stop my leg from bopping up and down as I poke around in memories I’ve tried to bury. “I met Toni early on, while I was working that assignment for Aiken in Denver a few years ago. We hooked up; it was fun. We hung out for a couple of months; both knowing it had an expiration date. Or so I thought. Took me a while to discover she was angling for more, but the moment I did, I explained things weren’t like that for me and bowed out.”
“I don’t see what—”
“That’s because I’m not done,” I interrupt Damian rudely. In my defense, this shit is costing me and I was having a pretty good fucking day before. “Three weeks later, she shows up at my apartment, telling me she’s pregnant, and the baby is mine.” I’m looking at my fingers, picking at the seam of my jeans, but I still feel the air change in the room around me.
“Go on.”
I need another deep breath in to keep my voice level as I spill the rest. “She was eight weeks pregnant. I demanded to go with her for an ultrasound. Fucking heartbeat on the screen and everything. Wasn’t planned, but from that moment it was fucking wanted. I thought about Max, and this new baby brother or sister, and I knew I was gonna give this thing a go with Toni. We started planning, even brought her home to Durango one weekend to meet Max and my folks. Two weeks after that, I’m at a coffee shop near my place, when I get a call from a friend of hers. She tells me I need to get my ass over to a clinic in Englewood.” I bark out a painful laugh. “Fucking place is called Healthy Futures, believe it or not. I’m arguing with a fucking guard to let me in, even wave my FBI badge, but it’s already too late. The friend who called me walks out, an apology on her face and an arm around Toni.”
“Jesus.”
My eyes burn with the memory of hot pain hitting my gut, realizing what she’d done, and puking right there on the sidewalk, the knowledge almost bringing me to my knees. “She never wanted a kid. She just wanted me and had since the beginning. She orchestrated the pregnancy, gauging the kind of guy I am, knowing I was gonna do the right thing. She had me hooked, got rid of the baby she never wanted, and was gonna claim a miscarriage, using that instead to keep me around.”
“That’s all kinds of fucked up.”
“Ya think?”
“What the hell is she doing here?” he wants to know.
“Fuck if I know. The fact she’s FBI now doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but it’s the fact she’s FBI, and she’s assigned to my field office. This afternoon I caught her listening in on my call with Marya, and to top it off, she had the balls to ask me about my relationship with her.” I finally look up to find Damian observing me, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I can’t do it, man. I’m still so fucking angry, I’m afraid I’ll do something I regret. I can’t work with her.”
“Fuck!” I flinch when Damian’s hand slams down on the desk, sending papers scattering on the floor. “Shoulda told me, kid. Right away. The moment you heard her name, you shoulda laid it out. I never would’ve put you in that position had I known.”
“I’m…shit piled up quick.”
Damian shakes his head sharply. “I get it. I’m pissed at the situation. I’m fucking furious with that manipulative bitch out there, and I have to figure out a way to explain to Aiken his first candidate is already not working out, when I should be concerned with a sexual predator and child killer on the loose.”
“Tell him the truth,” I suggest. My shit is out there now. No way to put the genie back in the bottle, and whatever blows back my way I’ll deal with.
“Get out of here, Dylan. Walk out that door, go straight to your truck, and get yourself home. Regardless of how this pans out, you won’t need to deal with her. Leave it to me.”
“Thanks.”
I push out of the chair, when he suddenly gets up too and rounds the desk. He claps a hand on my shoulder and curves the other around my neck, giving it a squeeze.
“So fucking sorry, kid.”
I barely manage to nod when he lets me go and I hurry out the door, not seeing anything but the exit.
My eyes are too blurry.
Marya
I haven’t stopped smiling since I left my house this morning.
Darla was teasing me earlier before she took off to do a medical clinic on the south side, while I headed over to a spa downtown.
It’s a small, one-story building that’ll take me another ten minutes or so to finish and then I can head home to bed.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I fish it out.
Dylan: Where are you?
Me: Still working
Dylan: Where?
Me: The Pampered Princess on 3rd, why?
Dylan: Geezus. How long?
Me: Maybe another 10 or so, why?
I wait a few seconds, but when there’s no response I tuck the phone back in my pocket, and finish cleaning out the footbaths.
Not sure what that was all about. I don’t want to assume anything, so I tamp down the butterflies in my belly getting all excited. No need to set myself up for disappointment.
Damn, what I wouldn’t give for a pedicure every so often. It’s one of those luxuries I afford myself once a year, at the start of summer, but the rest of the year I make do. Being on my feet a ton lately, they are in a dire state. I could probably sand my kitchen cabinets with my bare heels.
Fifteen minutes later, I tuck the cleaning supplies back in the closet, turn off the lights, and let myself out, locking the door behind me.
I see him right away, leaning against my Jeep in the parking lot.
He doesn’t move as I walk up to him.
“Hey,” I barely manage to get the single word out when his arm sneaks out, hooks me around the waist, and turns me so my back is pressed up against the fender—his body plastered against my front—and his mouth showing me he’s happy to see me with a desperation that’s new to me.
It’s only when he finally lets me up for air I see the deep creases around his mouth and on his forehead. Lifting both hands to his face I pull him closer.
“You all right, honey?”
Something twists inside me when I see him grimace as if in pain, before his face evens out again. “I’m good now,” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“I’ve got a neighbor sitting with Max for a few, I should get back. I just…needed to see you.”
I pull him down as I lift my face, meeting his lips in what I hope is a soothing kiss. He seems torn up and I’m afraid something else bad happened he can’t talk to me about. “Whatever you need, honey.”
His arms wrap around and crush me to his chest, his face pressed in my hair.
Something is definitely wrong.
“This is exactly what I need,” he mumbles. “Some bad memories resurfaced today. I’ll tell you, I promise, but not tonight.”
“Whenever you’re ready, Dylan,” I whisper, my hand stroking his head.
His mouth finds mine in a hard kiss before stepping back.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.”
SIXTEEN
Marya
“There they are,” Liam says, pointing ahead.
I recognize the team jerseys on the field farthest from the golf course.
This is the first time they’re playing at the Sports Complex in Farmington, and I had no flipping idea the place was this massive.
We missed the first turnoff, but caught the second one, parked the Jeep, and started walking. We passed a huge pond, tons of baseball fields—already busy on a Saturday morning—but didn’t see the soccer fields. We discovered those after traipsing through a golf course—to the chagrin of a foursome of late season golfers—to find there was parking right along the fields on the other side. Should’ve taken that first entrance.
I spot restrooms, and seeing as I downed my second coffee of the morning earlier, I need to make a stop.
“Boys, go ahead and follow Liam, I’ll just be a minute.”
