Had anyone ever cared enough for this man to know everything—even the darker things—about him? "I'm so sorry."
"Don't get me wrong. I could handle getting slapped around, and I could defend myself when one of Mom's stoned friends came barging through my bedroom door."
A gasp slipped free. Her fears hadn't even come close to the reality.
He glanced over his shoulder, face harder than she could ever remember seeing it. "I was fine, Nikki, but when I caught some high bastard on top of my sister..." Turning away again, he yanked the uniform zipper up his body. "I went to one of my teachers for help. Other teachers and even the cops had blown us off in the past—or my folks bought them off. Who knows? But this teacher, Mrs. Godeck, she was different. Stronger. She told my parents she was going to make their lives hell if they didn't send us both to boarding school. Somehow, she stood them down."
Thank God for Mrs. Godeck.
He dropped into the rocker and laced his black combat boots, left, right, done. "Are you ready to go back to your folks' place? I need to report in early today and take care of all the fallout from the barracks bombing."
She was sitting in her towel, for heaven's sake, and it was—she glanced at the clock—four in the morning. Unease prickled. He couldn't be walking on her again because she'd gotten too close....
"I'm not walking out," he echoed her thoughts so perfectly it spooked her. "I truly do head into work at five or six on a normal day."
"And this isn't a normal day."
Taking her hands, he knelt in front of her. "Not by a long shot."
His explanation made sense, but still, something wasn't right. "I understand about commitment to your job."
He squeezed her hands. "I want you to be careful when you go back to work."
"Of course I will."
He could take his distance and shove it. She kissed the faded scar. "I'm also checking in this week with Reis about some thoughts I've had."
And to find out more about those creepy calls to her parents' house. She wanted more facts before she told Carson so he wouldn't freak needlessly and lock her whole family in some hotel until her father returned.
Carson tapped her forehead. "Memories?"
"Ideas."
"Good ones?"
"Crummy ones, actually, but I hate feeling helpless."
His throat moved with a long swallow. "Helpless sucks."
For a second the connection between them shimmered to life again, a thin, fragile thread she needed to handle with a feather-light touch.
From his thigh pocket, his cell phone chimed—at four in the morning? The thread snapped.
He growled. "I'm starting to hate that damn thing." Rising, he dropped a quick kiss on her lips as he whipped his cell phone from his pocket. He glanced at the LCD, his face blanking. "Sorry. I have to take this."
Carson stepped out onto the balcony to talk in private, his voice low. Even with his reassuring kiss and words, she couldn't shake the feeling there was something more he was keeping from her. She thought about those two men she'd seen him with the night of Gary's death, and how Carson had neatly avoided saying anything about them when she shared the memory.
Staring at the broad plank of his shoulders as he stood outside taking his mystery call, she told herself they were still early in this relationship thing. Be patient. Build trust.
Except she couldn't help but think of how long her mother had told herself the very same thing.
Chapter 11
Sliding the balcony door closed behind him as he stood outside in the chilly night, Carson tucked the phone to his ear, his head still pounding from the discussion with Nikki. He was trying, but he couldn't miss the searching in her eyes, the need for something more he wasn't sure he had in him to give after his screwed-up childhood.
However at the moment, the person on the other end of the phone needed him. That loyalty had to be a top priority. Without the support system, none of them would be worth a damn to anyone. "Hello?"
"Carson? Will, here. Sorry to call so late." They used first names in the program, even when they knew the surname.