SHADOWS
“I'm not sayingDamian is a bad guy.” Cole sat on my couch with his bare feet propped on the coffee table, a long-necked bottle of beer perched precariously in his hand while he craned his neck toward me. “All I’m saying is to be careful because people aren’t always who they appear to be. I mean, you’ve known him, what? A week now? Less? Just don’t let your guard all the way down. Keep some suspicion on the back burner.”
“You know, you’re so right,” I chuffed. “I really haven’t known him all that long. Only like, an hour longer than I’ve known you.” I tossed my dish towel at him, but it fluttered to the floor from my weak attempt.
Cole chuckled, grabbing for the remote. “The difference here is that I didn’t get myself arrested after they saw me on surveillance of a murder scene.”
“They didn't arrest him,” I pointed out. “They brought him in to ask him questions. There’s a difference. They will talk to every person they saw on the tape. It doesn’t mean all of them are guilty.”
“Person of interest, Dahlia,” Cole reminded me. “Sterling didn’t stutter.”
The lump in my throat I’d been constantly swallowing down came back full force. I grabbed my glass of water and chugged it to keep from tearing up. “I don’t want to believe any of you could be capable of such a thing.”
“Well, I haven’t done anything wrong.” He switched the channel to football, and I rolled my eyes. Typical alpha male. Covered in tattoos, piercings, and a penchant for sweaty man sports. “No time for shady shit. Being the lead guitarist in a massively popular band really dominates my day.”
I wasn’t sure if he was being sarcastic or if he was just delusional. “Massively popular, huh?”
“Of course. You should come to one of our shows. It’s amazing how women try to throw themselves at us while we play.” He grabbed his dick through his jeans absently, readjusting himself. “I’ve been hunting like that for years. Those bitches are easy pickings.”
“I’m sure their desire to fuck the band has nothing to do with you being an Incubus, either.” I rolled my eyes. I was born at night, but not last night. Not even in the last fifty years. “The cops let Damian go, by the way. They spoke to him for a few hours, then they drove him back to his apartment. If they thought he did something, wouldn’t they have held him?”
“Not necessarily. Even if they suspect him of something, without evidence, they can’t just lock him away and throw away the key. You can bet your ass they have someone tailing him, though. There’s probably an unmarked car outside his place as we speak.” Cole stroked Bean's back as he spoke, paying special attention to his scruffy neck. “Hope he doesn’t come here while they’re looking at him. We definitely don’t need them suspecting the rest of us. I mean, they already have your hair. Imagine if they’re tailing Damian and he leads them right to you, then they put two and two together and decide we were all in on the murders. I’m way too pretty for prison. Especially when I haven’t done anything.”
“Neither have I,” I protested.
“I know, Dahlia,” he said. “But that’s not how it’s going to look. Have they called you about the hair samples yet?”
“No, and I’m terrified they’re going to.”
“Don’t worry too much,” Cole said. “They’ll probably think it's some kind of synthetic blend, or an animal hair. It would be pretty far-fetched for some scientists to believe they are holding proof of a whole different species. That’s too hard for their little brains to comprehend. Don’t worry, Dahlia. Everything is going to work out.”
“Just not for Damian, since you obviously think he's guilty of something.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You might as well have.”
Cole got to his feet and joined me in the kitchen, wrapping his masculine arms around my waist. “That’s not fair. I just said you should be careful.” His hips pushed toward me, grinding his erection into my lower belly. “Is it wrong to want you to keep yourself safe? It would be so hard to fuck if you were behind bars. I mean, there are conjugal visits, I suppose. But the idea of fucking on beds provided by the prison system that all the nasty convicts use doesn’t really appeal to me. Plus, I think you need to be legally married to qualify for those visits. Something tells me you wouldn’t be interested in that.”
“You got that right,” I said, tilting my head back so he could kiss my throat.
The apartment door swung open and slammed closed again, sending a shockwave through my body. Cole swung me behind his body, offering protection from whoever just invaded our safe place.
“Relax,” Sterling's voice greeted us from the spot on the floor just over the threshold. “It’s just me.”
“Sterling?” I shouted. “What the hell happened?”
I could see the blood on his forehead from where we stood in the kitchen. Without wasting a second, I rushed to him, prodding his head to determine the severity of his wounds.
“Ouch!” he screamed. “Dahlia, I’m fine. Leave me alone!”
Cole brought a wet towel and placed it in my hand. When I pressed it to the gash in the detective’s head, he winced.
“What the hell happened, man?” Cole asked
“Someone hit me over the head when I was getting in my car. Before I could turn around, they had a bag over my head, and they were trying to tie me up. I don’t go down so easily, though. I fought that bastard off and pulled my gun.” Sterling tried to stand but got dizzy and slid back to his spot on the floor. “The fucker was fast. He was halfway down the block before I could get a shot off.”
“Or maybe you’re just slow?” Cole offered.
“You know, I only put up with you because of her. Don’t give me a reason to shoot you,” Sterling told him.
“You’d probably miss anyway,” Cole laughed.