“You aren’t sorry for that,” he muttered as he stood up.
I couldn’t even pretend he was wrong. I’d hated Terry Kramer from the moment I set eyes on him. When I found out he had lured my hooker-slash-girlfriend into giving him information I had inadvertently told her, I’d lost it completely, killed them both, and then landed myself where I was.
“We’ll be back,” Rinaldo promised. “Hang tight, son.
Nothing could have satisfied me more than hearing that word from his lips.
Chapter 3—Needed Sleep
Only a few moments after Rinaldo walked out the door along with Michael, the adolescent attorney, one of the guards came in to take me back to my cell. As he started to unlock the cuffs from the chair, one of the unit leaders stuck his head in and said I had another visitor.
I tried not to tense up so much as he tightened the restraints to the chair again and went to the door to let in whoever was coming to see me. My head was throbbing and felt like it was covered with a thick fog. As the door swung open again, I looked up to see her.
Lia.
She was dressed in tight-fitting blue jeans, tennis shoes, and a long sleeved T-shirt. I could see the chain around her neck which held a quarter made into a pendant—the same quarter I’d left for her in the cabin with a lame-ass note apologizing for running out on her. She’d used that quarter to prove my ass was as tight as military-style bed sheets, which had made me laugh harder than I had in years.
Was that the point when I fell for her?
r /> There was a warm coat tossed over her arm, and I wondered how cold it had gotten outside. The sun had been shining into my cell window, but I didn’t know the temperature outside. Chicago should have been in the full swing of spring, but apparently nature had another plan.
Her chest rose and fell as she took a long breath and then a short step toward me. I couldn’t seem to move my lips to actually say anything to her at first, but when she hesitated, I found my tongue.
“Is Odin okay?” They were probably the wrong first words, but nothing else came to mind. The fog rolled in over my head again, and my stomach lurched. For a second, there was nothing but dizziness in my head and static in front of my eyes.
“He’s doing all right,” she said. “They let me get into your apartment to find his food dish and bed. He chewed up his rubber bone the first day I had him at my place, but I found him a new one. I think he misses you.”
Lia took the last couple of steps to the chair opposite mine and sat with her hands folded in front of her. The movement caught my attention, and I stared at her fingers. I recalled the way they felt wrapped around my shaft, and even as I sat there, incarcerated, with cuffs around my wrists and a head full of vile dreams, I was starting to get a little hard.
My heart throbbed along with my head, and I turned my gaze away as I closed my eyes. It was entirely possible I was going to get out of here and might even have the opportunity to feel her touch again, but I was about as fucked up as they came, and she didn’t need to be subjected to that.
Besides, there was no telling what Rinaldo had planned for me when I was released on bond. He could exile me again.
I felt fingers against my arm and opened my eyes to find Lia had moved from her seat to stand on the left side of the chair where I was chained. Her fingers traced up my forearm, and I shivered as I took in another deep breath.
With her touch on my arm, and my inability to return it, my head began to swim again, and the fog inside my mind felt like it was trying to push me to the ground and suffocate me. Her presence and contact should have soothed me, but I needed more.
“I wish I could touch you. I need to touch you.”
Lia stepped to one side and shoved the table back a little with her hip. She positioned herself so that her leg was right in front of my hand.
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around her thigh. Sitting up and leaning forward, I pressed the side of my face against her stomach. The touch of her fingers on the back of my neck and scalp as she cradled my head to her body was alarming. The warm, dark feeling of near unconsciousness from lack of sleep seeped into me again, replacing the fog, but I pushed it off as I inhaled her familiar scent and let the emotions cover me.
She saw me.
She saw me like that—rifle in hand, firing at strangers in a park. She saw me in cuffs, being hauled away like a deranged lunatic.
I was a deranged lunatic.
My body started shaking, and I couldn’t do anything to stop it. It all came out as I pressed my face against her belly and let go—allowing the shaking to turn into sobbing. The haunted looks of those I had killed just before my bullet entered their brains, the bodies of my unit as I was taken prisoner, the sounds of those who begged me to show mercy.
I never did.
“It wasn't always this way,” I cried into her shirt. “I wasn't supposed to be like this.”
“What happened?” I heard her whisper.
I shook my head from side to side, still pressing tightly against her body. Though there was a little part of me that might have wanted to go for full disclosure—everything from my profession to the slaying of the woman I slept with—most of me wasn’t anywhere near that stupid. Even in my current state, I wasn’t going to say anything to make her run screaming from the room. That was what she would have done if I had told her everything.