Degrees of darkness, p.83
Degrees of Darkness, page 83
Anderson stepped around him and blocked his view of Cody. “Let me talk to her.”
Remy frowned. “I don’t know. If her dad and her two closest friends in the world can’t get her to crack—I can’t even get her to tell me—what makes you think she’ll talk to you?”
“It’s worth a try, right?”
Sighing, he shrugged. “What the hell. You’ll get stonewalled, too.”
“By the way, where is Logan?”
“I don’t want him to know yet. Once she’s calmed down or explained herself, then he can know.”
“Think he’d know what those numbers mean?”
“I have no idea.”
Anderson nodded and walked over to Cody. As Remy watched his partner go, a pang of jealousy hit him. During their time in New Orleans trying to find and save him, Cody had formed a bond with Anderson. Something about their friendship was different than it was between her, JC, and Kim. And it irked Remy that his wife might be more open with his partner than him. Hell, with anyone besides him.
“Detective?”
Forcing his irritation aside, Remy turned to the vice guy. “Yeah?”
“We’re done here. I think we’ve gotten all we’re going to get tonight. I’ll be in touch.” He held out his hand.
Remy took it and they shook. “Thanks.”
“Your wife seemed dead certain this Austin McCord was the one who did it.”
“You and I both know we can’t make any foregone conclusions.”
The detective nodded. “Goodnight, LeBeau.”
• • •
Cody gave Heath a weak smile as he approached and hugged herself.
“Hey, cowgirl. Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping at this hour?”
The humor in his tone lifted her a bit. “Normal people are, but I’m not one of them.” She looked past his shoulder to see Remy escorting the responding officers to their cars. Her gaze slid back to Heath. “Why are you here?”
“I came to check on LeBeau.” A serious expression replaced his concern. “Cody, back when I started teaching you how to handle a gun better, do you remember what I said about facing your demons?”
Oh God, he’d have to use that against her. The night her home was blown to bits she’d asked Heath to teach her how to better defend herself. He flat out told her she’d have to confront her greatest fears—meaning her PTSD—or she’d never be able to function. In all the time she’d spent with him, Cody still hadn’t cracked his shell. Heath was good about whittling away at her walls and helping her come to terms with what had been done to her. But not once did he unveil how he knew what he was doing. Nor had he admitted a possible attraction to her. That question spoken in New Orleans still remained open.
“Yeah, I remember,” she said.
“Level with me. What did those numbers mean?” His hand shot up when she opened her mouth. “If you flashback, I’m here. LeBeau’s here. Trust us, cowgirl.”
“Heath ...” She bowed her head. This wasn’t something she wanted to talk about with him. Remy, maybe, because he was her husband. She tightened her grip on her body. But she’d never been able to tell her father—the only man she’d felt safe enough to confide in—and she couldn’t tell him, ever.
“Oh, Cody.”
The strained tone to Heath’s voice brought her head up. Agony ripped across her heart at the knowing look on his face. How’d …?
“You’re showing all the signs,” he whispered.
She frantically searched for Remy. He was still talking to the cops. “What signs?” she choked out.
Heath licked his lips, running his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t I see it before?”
Her arms slid to her sides and she clenched her fists, resisting the urge to grab him and shake the answer out of him. What was she showing that he figured it out?
Suddenly, he captured one of her fists and tugged her inside the condo. Once they were out of earshot, he released her and stationed himself in the doorway so he could look outside. “Your ex raped you.”
The floor rolled under her like a tidal wave. Cody’s hand shot out and she placed her palm flat against the wall to steady her quaking legs. That word, one lone word, brought forward those horrific memories. She swatted at them, then collapsed, thumping down on the bottom step. Burying her face in her hands didn’t stop the images.
Hands on her shoulders made her snap upright. She jerked free of Heath’s grasp.
“Don’t,” she barked.
He surrendered and scooted back. “I’m not trying to hurt you.”
“I know that.” She shuddered. “Just … don’t.” Damn it, she hated feeling like this. It wasn’t the real Cody. She pounded her fists against her thighs. “I hate him.” Satisfied with the throbbing in her legs, she stopped and glared at Heath. “How did you figure it out?”
His blue eyes blazed with heat and his square jaw went rigid. “I saw it a lot while I was deployed. Out on patrols with the local populations and even on my own damn bases.” The rage melted from his features. “I know what victims of rape look like. Especially when their attacker was someone close to them.”
A portion of her brain tried to wrap itself around the fact Heath had just opened a part of himself to her. The other half rebelled at his uncanny ability to dig so deep into her psyche. It left her gaping at him.
He held out his hand, palm up. “That bastard will continue to exploit you if you don’t stand up to it.”
Cody stared at his hand. “What do you expect me to do?”
“Tell Remy.” His hand fell away.
Fear catapulted from her gut into her throat and lodged there. Out of the question. She couldn’t tell anyone. She’d willingly had sex with Austin before. No one would have believed her then; why would they now?
“Cody, look at me.”
Her eyes flared open—when had she closed them?—and were met by the compassion on Heath’s face.
“It’ll be okay. You trust your husband, right?”
“Yes,” she said slowly.
“Then stop listening to the damn lie no one will believe you.”
A soft gasp escaped her lips. He’d done it again. It was like he’d crawled inside her mind and began reading her thoughts.
“Now you’re freaking out wondering how I know this.” Heath shook his head. “That is the mindset of the victim. I don’t think I’ve ever met a woman who didn’t think it.”
“Why are you doing this?”
Before she could draw away, he took hold of her hand and gently squeezed. “Because you’re my friend, cowgirl. And I’m getting real sick of seeing people trying to hurt or kill the both of you.”
The clap of boots on the steps alerted them to Remy’s arrival. Heath released her hand and stood, quickly backing away from her. Remaining where she sat, she watched her husband enter the condo. The men nodded to each other.
“I’m gonna let you two be,” Heath said, and moved to leave.
“Thanks for checking on us,” Remy said.
An unreadable look passed between them. Cody’s gut clenched. They were partners, and they had a weird way of reading the other’s thoughts. Even if she didn’t say a word to Remy, he’d eventually pick up on it from Heath. Blast it all. She was screwed no matter what.
She pushed off the step onto her feet and put some distance between herself and the men. While Remy bid adieu to Heath and locked up, she wandered into the living room to survey the damage. The glass crunched under her boots. After the detective and his crew had finished with pictures and cleared out what evidence they’d need—taking the brick and its damning message with them—Remy had placed a leftover piece of plywood over the broken pane.
Hugging her body again, she stared at the makeshift window. The wood kept the weather out, but it only served to remind her it wasn’t about to stop anyone from getting inside. The security system didn’t reassure her anymore. Everything had changed. The condo was violated. Just as she’d been.
Cody should have gone home. They’d put extra security measures in place in the house, like bulletproof glass. The condo didn’t have all the extra bells and whistles.
Strong arms wrapped her in a tight embrace. Remy pulled her flush to him and settled his chin over her shoulder.
“We’ve faced worse,” he whispered, his warm breath caressing her cheek.
Tilting her head against his, she closed her eyes and drank in the feel of him. This time with her eyes closed, the memories didn’t attack her. What was it about him that drove away those horrid images and the fear? It had been like this since they left New Orleans. Something changed in Remy while he was there, and every time he was near her it permeated them both.
God, why couldn’t the world just leave them alone and let them figure out this whole marriage deal? They already had enough on their plates trying to balance his job with their lives. The last thing she needed added to it was an abusive ex-boyfriend.
Heath might be right that she needed to tell Remy about the rape. But she was emotionally wiped out. Going to bed and sleeping seemed easier than facing her past.
“I’m going to bed.” She turned in the circle of his arms.
Remy frowned, brushing back wisps of her hair. “Are you sure? I think we need to talk about what those numbers mean and why you think it’s your ex.”
“Not tonight.” Maybe not ever, if she had her way. Stepping out of his embrace, she avoided his gaze. “I’m too tired,” she whispered and headed for the stairs.
When she was halfway up, he called to her. “You told me once to stop seeing you as Marie.”
Cody grasped the handrail and looked at him.
“I’m not McCord. I won’t hurt you.”
Swallowing against the tightness in her throat, she nodded her head. “I know, Remy.” She climbed the steps once again. “I’ve always known.”
Chapter Ten
Insistent buzzing penetrated the nightmare. Cody’s eyes snapped open. Behind her, Remy groaned and rolled away. The buzzing stopped and his BlackBerry clattered against the nightstand as he picked it up. Cody stared at the wall, bringing her stampeding heart back to its normal rhythm. The last vestiges of the nightmare faded. She’d already forgotten what it was about.
“Ma chère, I’ve got to go,” he whispered in her ear.
She rolled toward him. He sighed, ran his finger along her cheekbone, kissed her forehead, and then left the bed. As she followed his movements to the bathroom, it hit her that they were in the condo. Then last night’s events drove her heart rate into panic mode again.
The brick through the window carried a message directed at her. Only one other person knew the significance of that number sequence. It was a date. A day she never wanted to remember ever again. Except Heath had figured it out. Curse him and his uncanny intuition.
Now she had to face the reality of telling Remy. But how?
The faucets squeaked and the sound of running water made her sit up in bed. Blackness encroached on the edge of her vision and her head suddenly felt like she had no control. She sensed herself slumping, unable to stop it. When her head thunked against the headboard, she was jerked out of the weird spell. Rubbing the sore spot on the back of her skull, she laid down and curled up on her side. What was that all about?
She wasn’t prone to fainting spells and dizziness. Well, once before, a long time ago. After she’d tried to drink herself to death. During her recovery she’d blacked out a few times. But nothing like this.
Whatever made her do that was gone now. She had bigger problems to face. Like figuring out a way to get out of telling Remy about the rape. Or just biting the bullet and saying it.
No, she was getting better about coping and not letting the PTSD from the kidnapping take over her. Why subject herself to another round of long counseling sessions so soon? Admitting to a rape was going to force the counselor to push Cody into unlocking that box she’d buried deep within her mind. It could also lead to Remy treating her differently. When it came to the overprotective department, she’d thought her dad was the largest shareholder in the trade. But Remy gave him a run for his money.
In the bathroom the shower turned off. Cody had about five minutes before Remy emerged. What was she going to tell him?
This time she sat up slowly, giving her blood time to catch up with her upright body. She let her legs dangle over the side of the bed and stared at a spot on the wall.
Maybe it was best to tell him. Get it done and over with. How bad could it hurt?
A memory ripped across her mind and she flinched. Quickly, she subdued the rest and locked them back in their deep, black hole. Forget it. There was no way she was going to tell him and have those images shred her soul to bits.
The bathroom door squeaked. Cody pushed onto her feet and rotated to met Remy as he exited the bathroom. Clean-shaven and wearing tan slacks, he was pulling on a white dress shirt and came to a stop.
Cody felt the blood drain from her face and she swayed at the end of the bed. Black dots skeetered around the edges of her vision, again. Remy’s eyes widened and he took a step forward. Her hand shot up, halting him. How had she done that when the rest of her body felt like lead weights?
Slowly, she lowered her arm while clutching the center of her T-shirt with the other. The black dots were converging and the room suddenly tilted and spun.
“I think I’m going to be sick,” she blurted. Her knees buckled and she collapsed.
Remy’s curse penetrated the thickness surrounding her head. She registered his arms catching her and hauling her upright. When he placed her on the edge of the bed, the blackness blanketing her vision cleared and the reeling room came to a stop. What in the world?
Kneeling in front of her, he cupped her cheek. “Ma chère, are you okay?”
“No.” Pain shot through her eyes. She cradled her head. “I’ve got a bad headache. It’s making me dizzy.”
“This isn’t normal for you. I’ve never seen you sick outside of the one time you binged.”
“Well, I wasn’t binging this time.” She let her forehead rest on his shoulder. “Make the world stop moving.”
His chuckle rumbled in her ear. “It always moves.”
“Quit being literal.”
They remained in that position, him kneeling in front of her and she with her head on his shoulder. Gently, Remy gathered her hair from her face and twisted it into a large coil at the back of her neck. His thoughtfulness was something she still had a hard time accepting. He was a man’s man but not like what she was used to being around. Compared to Texas cowboys, he was a softy. Cody lifted her head. But he was her softy.
“Better?”
“For now.” She straightened her spine and focused on relaxing her tense muscles. The combination of the nightmare and her worry over telling him or not about the rape must have drained her. Why else would she faint? No other word for it.
“Does this have anything to do with last night and what you’re not telling me about our mysterious brick thrower?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t sleep well.”
“That’s an understatement. I think you kicked me more than a dozen times.”
Had she done it to get away from her dreams? Wouldn’t have been the first time she fought back in a dream, physically moving.
Remy pushed upright. Drawing his shirt tails aside, he hooked his thumbs in the waistline of his slacks. His intense study of her meant he was debating pushing the matter further or leaving it alone.
She hoped he’d leave it alone. When he wanted the truth, he’d push until he got it. And for this topic, she wasn’t about to let him push that far.
“Cody—”
“Remy, don’t ask me why I think it’s Austin McCord who threw the brick. I blurted it out last night, and I don’t know why.”
He pointed at her. “Right there tells me you’re lying.”
“I’m lying. Sorry. But I don’t even know why I thought it was him. He’s been out of my life for a long time and … it just seemed like something he would do.”
“Yet you freaked out when I read off the number sequence. That has some significance to you.”
Oh, just tell him! Tell him what? That those numbers were the day Austin raped her? Tell him that a man she’d been controlled by abused her in a way that left weeping wounds on her heart and soul?
Forget it.
“Don’t you have to go to work?”
His eyes narrowed. “Avoiding me won’t make it go away.”
She’d said the same thing to him in the early days of their rocky relationship when he tried to avoid talking about his past with her. “And throwing my own words back in my face won’t win you any points.”
“Touché.” He finished buttoning his shirt and grabbed his blazer for today. “But this conversation is far from over.”
Oh, didn’t she know it.
• • •
“Brass has chosen my successor.”
Remy glanced at Anderson. His partner’s face showed the same shock he felt at Moreno’s announcement.
“Sir, so soon?”
Moreno hunched over his desk—soon it wouldn’t be his desk anymore—interlocking his fingers. “They’ve had a few extra weeks. I waited as long as I could to tell you guys.”
“You know any details?” Anderson asked.
Rubbing a spot above his eyebrow, Moreno winced. “It’s someone you guys are going to have a hard time adjusting to, that’s for sure.”
A sourball exploded in Remy’s gut. He doubled over, resting his elbows on his knees, in an attempt to curb the ache. Moreno had been a hard ass from the day Remy had been promoted to detective. Who could be worse than him?
“I’ll stick around for a bit to help with the transition, but I’ve been told to take a hike.”
“Sir, could you cut to the chase?” Remy heard the irritation in his voice and didn’t care. “Who is it?”
The lieutenant’s dark eyes zeroed in on him then slid to Anderson. Slowly, he rocked back in his chair. “It’s Bretta Steele from Special Investigations.”
“What?” both Remy and Anderson said as one.
