He stops me. His hand circles my arm, forcing me to face him. “You thought it was from him.”
The accusation in his tone affronts me. I can only stare up at him. Shocked. Wounded. “Do not go there.” I try to pull my arm free, but his hold is stone. “I can’t believe this. You never acknowledge that my hallucination is anything but. Now you want to bring it up and weaponize it, to use it against me?”
“That first note…,” he says. His voice lowers as his grip softens. “Yes, it could’ve been from the perp. But if analyzed another way, could’ve been from a witness. I know who you’re waiting for. The man you believe saved you, Lakin. You write about him. Think about him. You dream about him. Real or fiction, it doesn’t matter to you. You’ve shut yourself off completely. Only one man—this hero you’ve conjured—is good enough.”
“What? Are you jealous?” How did this argument get so derailed? “Stop twisting things. You lied to me. What’s more, how can you even say this to me? How can you judge me? Knowing what I’ve suffered? What I now know was taken…”
For the second time today, I feel the fiery ache of tears sting my eyes, and I release a harsh curse. All these years, all the torment, and not one single drop. Now, in the rain, the dam bursts.
Rhys sees past the rain, sees down to my marrow. He places his hand on my cheek, letting his thumb trace the track of tears.
“I’m not judging you. I’m judging myself.” His other hand cups my face, holding me too close to him. Where I can’t escape. “I never closed your case. It’s not a cold case to me; it’s always active. I’m always working it. Damn right I’m jealous of him. Because I want to be the one who saves you.”
My heart drums. “Rhys…”
The storm has come. We’re standing amid the fury of it. Our gazes lock, that dare we’ve been dancing around simmering the air between us, challenging one of us to take the risk. Rain sheets down in a torrent equal to the thunder resounding inside me, my pulse an electric web of lightning striking and setting my blood aflame. I’m pulled under the swell as his mouth descends on mine, rendering me powerless, his.
27
Collide
Lakin: Now
Rhys doesn’t kiss me; he consumes me. Devouring any barrier in his way.
The air around us, the oxygen in my lungs, the atoms we’re made of. Every molecule implodes into that kiss, and I’m a part of the undertow pulling us beneath the current. I latch on to him, my hands seeking to anchor me to his solid embrace.
His lips make a study of mine, as if he’s wanted to explore this forbidden question between us for far too long, and now he’s desperate for the answer.
My thighs hit the car behind us, and Rhys lifts me up against him, seating me on the hood to get better access to all of me. I tug at his wet shirt, gripping the collar to bring him closer.
Too soon, he pulls away, breaking the kiss. “Don’t,” I whisper. I can’t conjure any other words. He just can’t stop, because I’m scared to let our logical minds catch up with our hearts.
He rests his forehead to mine, easing out a breath. “I never meant to hurt you,” he says. I can hear the anguish in his voice, and I believe him. Still…
I’m fighting my desire for him and my need to know. “Then why?”
“I didn’t trust myself,” he admits. I pull my swollen lip between my teeth, and Rhys answers my unspoken question. “I couldn’t keep the truth from you forever, I knew that. But once I knew the truth, I became obsessed with finding evidence to prove it was Abbot, and that’s why I couldn’t be the one to tell you—I didn’t want you to suffer that same devastating frustration.”
What’s worse than never solving a cold case and finding the killer? Finding the killer and watching him roam free.
Rhys and I both understand this. I know that, in our profession and as partners, as friends, his protective nature wanted to shield me from a dark rabbit hole, but: “I’m stronger than you think, Rhys.”
He cups my face, the rain becoming a mist around us. “I know you’re strong. My failure has nothing to do with the way I see you, Lakin. This is my weakness; you’re my weakness. There would’ve been no way for me to keep a professional distance from you if I had to watch you break.”
Now that his words are out there, and we’ve proven the professional distance between us has disintegrated—what does it mean? Is he simply filling the void after his own accident? Or does the discovery of my shattering truth do just as he claims: make it impossible for him not to feel for me?
What will we feel tomorrow if we cross this line?
An anxious flutter bats to life in my chest. “Is this some kind of lawyer logic?” A rare smile twitches at my lips.
With Rhys, I never have to pretend to know how to respond to a torrent of emotion. I can feel the overwhelm and process it in my own way, and he allows me this. Always accepting.
His answer is a deep and sensuous kiss that steals my breath, making me forget, for just a moment, the cruel truth of my past. The parking lot vanishes. The rain isn’t a burden. We’re within our own world, safe. Sheltered.
And when the kiss leads us inside his hotel room, our drenched clothes peeled from our bodies in urgent need to be closer, skin-to-skin, I don’t fight the tide. I let the rush of emotions break through every defense. Rhys’s touch sears me in a way that chases my darkest fears away.
Right now, Rhys is the light I want to cling to, to reach for.