Steel, p.20
Steel, page 20
But my head spins, the world ebbs away and there's only him, the way he loves me, the feeling I can no longer contain just within the walls of my chest. And I'm on him. I can't help it. I'm grabbing on to his head and closing my mouth over his. I'm desperate to feel every part of him. He shoves his plate to the end table but I jump back and get a hold of me.
“I’m sorry. I don’t want to be insensitive. Your friend…”
"You’re not.” His fingers ghost over my thighs but his eyes burn me. “I need you, Amelia. Fucking Vic is what cursed me but loving you is my salvation."
My whole body goes ablaze, and I only have two words for him. "Take me."
The words are barely out when he has me astride him, shoving the soft, modal bottom of my romper and lowers me onto him. He's so hard and I'm so wet and all I can do is scream at the sensation of him sliding between my walls. I move, needing to feel it again. But his hands clamp on my thighs.
"No."
His tone, forceful and definite, leaves no room for argument, and makes me a quivering mess. I want to tell him I can't stay still. I have to move but he yanks the pin from my bun, fist his hands in my hair and savages my lips. I could come right there because everything in me is contracting and it needs to be released, unbound.
He shoves the straps of my romper down my shoulder, the air fans over my nipples. He goes straight to one, flicks his tongue over it.
Someone screams, "Oh God." I think it was me. I can't be sure. Not when his lips are closing over my breast and he's sucking like he's trying to draw the essence out of me. Not when his hand tugs my other nipple and I feel like I'm being torn into opposite equally painful, equally sweet directions. Not when his hips shove up and my eyes fill up.
I just can't be sure who's moaning but I know whose tears are sliding down my face. He tilts his face up and I wrap my mouth around his, leaning forward, letting him control me, us. I ask him harder, faster, more and he obliges me, turning my silent tears into sobs, sending me into the air until I crash, coiled against him with just one thought.
He’s the reason I live. No one's going to take him from me.
38
I clamp my hand on Alec's shoulder. He turns to me, a frown pasted on his forehead. "I want to talk to you."
"Now?" He tilts his head to the entrance of the dirty brick building.
Ahead of him, Noah turns to us. "Go ahead. You don't go until thirty minutes from now, anyway."
We head down the block. "Coffee's on me." And we fall into silence until we have our cups solid in hand.
"I shouldn't have kept that from you. I should have told you about Vic."
"Yeah, you should have. And I probably shouldn't have acted like an asshole yesterday. I just fucking hate all these complications."
I know what he means. My every mistake is coming back to haunt me. "I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be leaving her side but all my bad fucking decisions keep multiplying."
Alec pats my arm. "Mel is safe. They built an impenetrable fort." The last sentence comes out as if he spits it out, bile that was lingering on his tongue.
"Did you make up with Carissa?"
He gives me a side look. "We're on speaking terms."
I laugh. "Don't fight with your wife over this kind of shit."
"They should've told us, Leo."
"I agree but at the same time, it's business. We keep shit from them too."
"It's not the same. They have a fort they could keep us out of, if they want."
Oh fuck. When he puts it like that…
"They wouldn't do that. You and Carissa are solid. She obviously doesn't mind you being ugly and a complete asshole. The woman loves you."
"The old Leo would have had a fit and stolen copies of all their keys. Since you met Mel, you've grown soft." He doesn't give me time to curse him out. "I'm really happy about you and Mel. It was about fucking time."
I shrug like the words don't shake me. I can still feel her wrapped around me, sobbing against the crook of my neck, her body shaking as I emptied myself inside her. "I'm happy too." It's all I will commit to.
Alec shoves me again.
"I still can't believe this is finally happening. You know? Amelia and me."
"We all knew it was a matter of time. It was there from the beginning. Now you're getting married to her. It's funny how fast you put that ring on her finger. I like the approach, not giving her any time to change her mind."
"You can't talk, either."
He shrugs. "My methods work."
"Yet, you're in the doghouse."
He obliterates me with a look. Shit, this is nice, joking with my boy like the police are not waiting to talk to me, or the most psychotic man in the world isn't trying to get to my chick to hurt me.
My chick. I'm never again going to let her far enough from me, to breathe. I woke up with her mouth on me, one of my fantasy dreams, except this time it was real, no one knocked on the door, and I worshiped at the altar of her mouth. My cock and I remember, relish memories of hot breath, her agile tongue, her expert fingers on my balls, and the tunnel that’s her throat…
"Leo." Alec's his tone slams against my eardrum and my stomach drops. Something's not right. I turn in the direction of his gaze just as Amelia climbs out of the SUV.
My breath halts. Why is she here? Whatever it is can't be good.
She crosses the street, her purpose clear in every long stride of her high heels. She stops in front of us and releases a long breath.
"Everything okay?" Alec asks, the trepidation present in his voice.
I'm still unable to say anything.
She gives him a forceful nod. "Yeah, everything's okay."
And here comes my voice. "Then, why are you here? Why are you out and about, risking your life if everything is okay?"
The flash of emotion in her eyes should tell me everything. The glare comes and goes so fast. "I got an email. Bas released the first part of the video. People have been calling The Coven all morning, asking for a statement."
Fuck. I put my hands on her arm and really take a look at her face. She looks a little gray and her mouth is red but not from the red lipstick she wears like armor. No, she's been biting her lips raw.
Alec tells us he's going inside. I'm last anyway, so I stay outside and lead Amelia down the same block Alec and I just came back from. "I know you're upset but you shouldn't have left the safe spot. We talked about this. We knew he would do this and I know it's embarrassing—"
She stops and shoots me a what-the-fuck look. "Upset? What kind of chick do you take me for, Leandro? I'm not here because I’m ashamed."
"Oh." She sure knows how to take the air out of balls. "Then why did you come?"
She looks at her feet like she saw a scuff in the patent leather. "I don't know. Maybe you could use me there when you talked to the cops. I know you're having a hard time but if you don't want me here, I can go back."
Yeah, she knows how to take the air out of everything.
"Come here." She takes a step towards me. "Closer, Amelia."
I brush a kiss over her lips. "Come on, let's go inside."
She perks up, obviously pleased by my reaction. Of course, she just got her way.
She starts talking about her business stuff and how she had breakfast with the girls. She even tells me that Carissa won't stay mad at Alec for long. With the next breath she asks if tomorrow I want to go see her store. She pulls out her phone and shows me photos.
I don't understand what's happening, but I can't deny the design looks great.
The door opens and I'm surprised to see Alec and Noah coming out into the waiting room so quick. They tell me they'll head home but the lawyer stays behind.
"Do you want me to go back with them?" The smile hanging on her lips is not innocent. She does what she always does. She manages to distract me and now she's outwardly gloating. I don't mind, and I show it to her by taking her hand and waving my boys away.
We're led by a uniformed officer to a square room with a light hanging over the table. He tells us to have a seat and the detectives will be with us soon. Amelia takes one look at the room and she stops dead in her tracks. Her shoulders start shaking and soon she's in a laughing fit.
I look at my lawyer, a pale older man with a receding hairline to the middle of his head, and a nose that says hello before he does. I'm expecting him to shush her or look at her like she's crazy but instead there's an amused air about him.
I have been left out of the joke. "What?"
She points her finger then makes air circles with it around the room. "This is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. Did they get these props from the Law & Order: SVU set?"
She rests her hand on my shoulder as though she needs support.
I examine the room and scoff. She's right. The metal table and chairs, the dilapidated lamp with a missing light bulb. The room was painted in the color of every cop show cliché. I wouldn't be surprised if they offered me a can of soda or if the whole squad were standing behind the glass mirror.
"Congratulations." Our lawyer whispers to Amelia, his gaze lingering on her ring finger.
She flushes and I savor the smile of pure pleasure on her face. She thanks him and takes the chair next to me. She looks at me and my breath catches in my throat. Despite the shit we're going through, she's happy to be with me.
Detective Ramirez waddles into the room half an hour later, accompanied by a female in uniform. He's thirty minutes late, or as I like to think of it, twenty-nine and a half minutes past my patience.
Amelia leans over and whispers in my ear, "That outfit's straight out of the Humpty-Dumpty catalog."
I strain every muscle not to laugh. Instead, I whisper how grateful I am to her and ask her to remind me to thank her tonight, for hours.
The two cops are staring at us and our lawyer acts like he doesn't see anything.
"Mr. Biermann, is Ms. Solis here as your assistant again?"
Andrew doesn't even blink. "Why else would she be here? I don't think anyone takes trips to the police station just because they like it."
Both Ramirez and his uniformed buddy stare pointedly at Amelia's ring but neither says anything.
"This here is officer Franklin and I don't have to introduce myself, do I?"
No, Detective Douche, we know you. None of us takes his bait.
"Anyway, Mr. Masseur, you're here because we have a few questions about your connection to two women who have been murdered."
Andrew leans forward. "Mr. Masseur has come here voluntarily and willing to cooperate with your investigation. I suggest, Detective, that you stay on the straight and narrow, here."
"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Biermann."
Andrew scoffs. "I think you know what I mean but since we're going to play games here, I'm speaking of what you tried to pull in the last two interviews with my other clients."
"Every interview is different."
"I'm warning you. My client has very important things to attend to."
Shoulders back, head high, Amelia’s mighty pleased with Biermann and herself. It wouldn't be clearer if she jumped from her chair and pointed into the detective’s face. I'm glad we are using their lawyer. When in New York, let The Trinity take care of the legal details.
"Fine." But the hard-pressed line between Ramirez’s lips told a different story. "Mr. Masseur, last time you were here we spoke of Byanca Rosales. You mentioned she was a friend. Correct?"
"Yes."
He stares at me like he's expecting me to elaborate. I don’t.
"And you also knew Ms. Victoria Kessel?"
He fucking knows I do. "Yes, I knew Vic."
He raises an eyebrow. "You were close."
"We didn't see each other often but we were friends."
"Good friends?"
"He said friends, detective." Biermann is on fire today. He's taking no shit.
"Tell me about your friendship with the deceased."
"I met Vic when I was a teenager in California. We exchanged messages through the years but didn't see each other again until last year in Los Angeles."
"Why didn't you see each other for all that time, since you were friends?"
I shrug like guilt is not gnawing at my stomach. "It just worked out like that."
"Did you know her kid?"
"No."
Ramirez smiles, a slow slithering of his lips across his face. "He's biracial."
I lean forward, ready to lay into this asshole but Biermann steps in. "Detective Ramirez.”
"So, not your kid? Then why were you sending her money?"
Biermann interjects. "You don't have to answer that."
"Relax, Biermann, Leo here has nothing to hide. Right?"
I don't answer. Just look at him. Amelia's foot lightly taps mine. It means I better answer that.
"I don't know her child. I did know she lost him to the state last year around the time we met."
"Do you know why anyone would want to kill Ms. Kessel?"
I shake my head but hold his gaze.
Officer Franklin, silent until now, opens the folder in front of her. I know what she's going to pull out before she does and I brace myself but when she slides the photos on top of the table, my stomach plummets. There in the photos is Vic's pale face, bulging eyes, her mouth in a forever surprised circle.
I can't look away from her. It's not until Amelia's hand closes over mine that I remember where I am and in whose presence.
"Hard to see, isn't it?"
"Detective Ramirez, Mr. Masseur told you that woman was someone he considered a friend. I'm appalled that you would so callously show him images like that when you know very well he had nothing to do with Ms. Kessel’s or Ms. Rosales' murders."
"We don't know that."
"Yes, we do. Mr. Masseur was in California for over a week before Ms. Rosales' murder and you know for a fact he was in California when this one happened. Maybe if someone in your department had not leaked the date and time of death, you would have no recourse for having us here. But we know different."
"How do we know he was in California? All we have is his word."
"And TSA records, and footage from his building cameras. He returned to New York last night."
"It may be his tie."
Biermann stands up. "No, it's not. We actually have the ties for him, Alec and Noah McLean in our possession and can provide them at any point. Something I will make sure I tell the Police Captain of when I present my complaint about you wasting taxpayer dollars on a witch hunt, because you're not doing your job and finding the right culprit so you can do right by the victim."
"Mr. Biermann—"
"This interview is over. Call us if you think you have something real or tangible. Mr. Masseur is a businessman. Way too busy to be hauled here because you have some sort of witch hunt in mind. Have a good day, Detective."
Amelia and I are almost stepping on his feet.
We bump into Jamie Byrnes on the way outside, though from the look in his eyes, not by coincidence. Guess who leaked the date and time of death? He leans closer to Amelia and squeezes her hand. In that second, I understand why The Trinity insisted on us using their lawyer. They knew everything the cops had.
They have a hand in everything. No wonder Alec is having his doubts about City of Ruth. I'm still okay with it. I'm glad for their Machiavellian tricks. I'm not paying attention to them as they launch into a full conversation. I'm listening to Biermann give me some advice on what to do if the police contact me.
Byrnes turns to me and offers me his hand. "Congratulations." He looks at Amelia and then at me again. "It's about fucking time."
39
I'm amazed by him. I've always loved the way he can look relaxed and devil-may-care. Except I now see the darting of his eyes when he ducks his head to drink. He sees the whole room. I’d bet my shoe closet that he knows how many people are in the restaurant, the number of steps it takes to get to the front and back doors, and how he would carry me there if needed.
I see so much more now. We've gone through things most people don't survive and I've witnessed his strength, his no-sweat coolness. I'm not afraid because I know he will protect me, with his life if necessary.
I want, no, I need to take that look from his face. I need him to look into my eyes. I squeeze his hand until I have his attention.
“Relax a little.”
He flashes me his signature smile, the one that almost took me down the first time I met him. “I’m relaxed.”
I shake my head. “Just be here, now, with me. Let’s just eat lunch.”
“I have to be on alert, Amelia. I need to be vigilant at all times.”
I wrack my brain for a comeback and settle on throwing his words right back at him. “Then your security people are not that competent.”
His mouth opens but nothing comes out. Then he laughs and leans closer. “Marry me.”
My heart bumps my ribcage. How can he still do this to me? I wiggle the ring finger on my left hand at him. “I’ve already said yes.”
“Would you marry me today?”
“I would marry you right now.”
“Okay.” There’s a trace of laughter in his tone.
“You don’t believe me.”
He shakes his head, slow, deliberate like the taunting in his eyes.
I hold his gaze but pull the phone out of my purse. I take my eyes off him only long enough to dial. “Andrew, how do we get married today?”
Leandro rolls his eyes and I know he’s baiting me but I’m no chickenshit.
Our lawyer pauses on the other side. “I’m on my way back. Meet me at the courthouse in an hour.”
I end the call, put the phone down on the table and cross my arms over my chest. “Your move.”
What the fuck did I just do?
Leandro pulls my hand again and brings it to his lips, then turns it over and kisses the inside of my wrist. He looks at my phone and then back at me. “I think I just made my move.”
My eyes narrow. I love this man so much it hurts. “I hate you, you know?”
“No, you don’t. Your eyes say different; your body says different.” He leans over the table and kisses me softly, so soft, his lips lingering on mine, making me sigh. “Your mouth says different.”
