Break for Me (11 page)

He glanced at his brother and Dr. Tyrese West stepped forward, placed a folder on
Guy’s desk. “Dean asked me to take a look at the bones that were discovered in the
trunk of the car,” he said, his voice deep and steady. “Unofficially, of course. If
the sheriff’s office would like me to consult, I’m happy to do so, but this was just
a favor. The Bell family has waited long enough to find answers.”

Guy reached out and flipped open the folder, staring at the pictures. A long bone—broken.
A femur, he thought and then noted the neat little notes on the sheet of paper the
image was clipped to. Yes, a femur.
Damage consistent with a crush injury
—

His gut knotted. Crush injuries. He’d heard that term before.

Slowly, he looked. “Did you?”

“Find answers?” Tyrese held his gaze. “I think all I have now are more questions.”

“Why don’t you ask me those questions?”

But Guy had a bad feeling he already knew at least one of them.

Crush injury
—

Tyrese glanced at his brother and then looked back at Guy. The man’s eyes were big,
dark and so sad.

It was like he somehow already knew something awful. Something Guy didn’t even want
to think about.

*   *   *

“Thanks.” Guy nodded as the guard left him alone with his father. They weren’t really
alone—nobody left a prisoner unsecured in a jail, even when the man’s son was a deputy
sheriff. Maybe even
especially
when the man’s son was a deputy sheriff.

Theo Miller wasn’t an ugly man, even now.

He was a cruel one, though, and that showed … in his eyes, in the way he looked at
the world, in the way he carried himself.

He settled at the table and leaned back, rested his cuffed hands on the table and
gave his only child an insolent smile.

His eyes were his father’s eyes, Guy knew. That smile? The arrogant curve of his lips,
the stubble that was even now darkening Theo’s jaw, that was his, too.

He looked so much liked that arrogant, evil bastard.

“I had a visit today,” he said softly, keeping his distance.

If he moved any closer, he might forget who he was. Who he’d fought so hard to become.
He might become the man sitting across the room—the man Guy hated with every fiber
of his being.

“Yeah?” Theo looked around. “You bring me any cigarettes?”

“You shouldn’t smoke. It will shorten your life.” He kept his arms folded across his
chest. His hands
ached
.. He wanted to lunge across the room and grab the son of a bitch. Because he
knew
. He already knew.

“Shorten my life? You worrying about me there, boy?”

“I’d hate for you to die before you can go to court.”

Something flickered in Theo’s eyes. “Court?” A sly twist of his lips. “What … am I
getting a new trial about that fucking break-in? Innocent, I told you that, boy.”

“Not the break-in,” he said softly. He let himself move a little closer, because he
had to see it, had to be able to see the man’s eyes. “Theo, you remember fifteen years
ago when you told a bunch of people that Butcher ran away?”

There was the answer. It was minute, just a slight tightening around Theo’s eyes,
gone so fast that Guy would have missed it if he hadn’t been waiting for it.

“Butcher…” He squinted and then nodded. “Oh, yeah. That mean old dog of yours.”

“Not my dog, Dad.” He rubbed a thumb down his jaw. “You remember how that lady, Nichole,
used to give you so much hell about Butcher?”

Theo’s eyes, hard as ice and just as cold, bored into his.

“They found her, Dad.”

“What the fuck do I care?”

Guy reached down and untucked his shirt, unbuttoned it. As he revealed the scars on
his belly, he said nothing. His father’s breath started to come raggedly. “I remember,
Dad. I remember where you had me bury him. They’re already digging him up. The question
is … will it be considered murder? Or manslaughter?”

“You son of a bitch!”

Theo lunged for him but the leg shackles didn’t give him much room. Guards came rushing
into the room.

“You fucking son of a cunt!” Theo roared. “You keep your mouth shut. You’ll burn if
I do. I’ll tell them all you knew. That you helped.”

Guy turned away, his gut rolling. His hands were steady, though, as he buttoned up
his shirt, hiding the scars very few people had ever seen.

Guilt, shock, and disbelief were a nasty mix inside him.

“I came here hoping I was wrong somehow, you know,” he murmured, stopping in the doorway
to look back. “You have no idea how badly I needed to be wrong about this.”

In his mind’s eye, he saw a woman. That wicked, sly grin. Those wide, sad eyes.

He loved her … so much.

She’d never been more out of reach than she was at that very moment.

Chapter Ten

“Hi, Mom.”

Jensen knelt at the headstone and brushed away a few of the silken yellow roses that
had fallen from the most recent arrangement. Chrissie’s handiwork, she had no doubt.

A gentle breeze blew through the graveyard and she brushed her hair back. “Every time
I feel a breeze like that when I’m here, I try to tell myself it’s you. Talking to
me.”

A knot swelled in her chest. It was going to choke her. End her. Sucking in a breath,
she pressed her fisted hand to her forehead and tried to level out.

It was done.

Not
completely,
she knew that, but she had the answers. After all this time.

Hearing the faintest whisper of sound, she tensed and slid a quick look behind her.

The sight of Dean crossing the ground to her had her heart skipping a few beats. He
was still wearing the suit, all sexy and sleek in a charcoal suit that probably cost
a mint. But he’d loosened the tie, pulled out the cord he used to keep his dreads
back from his face. And he looked tired as he came to a stop beside her.

“Want some company?” he asked softly.

She shrugged and looked back at her mother’s headstone. “Sure. Have a seat.” Then
she scowled and looked at his suit. “Then again, you might not want to sit in that.”

He blew out a breath. “After the day I’ve had, all I
want
to do is sit.”

“All?”

A faint grin tugged at his lips. “Maybe not all.” He slid a hand up her back, cupped
her nape. “You weren’t at the station today.”

“No. I spent it with my family.” She plucked a blade of grass and rubbed it between
her fingers. “The chief knew I needed the day. So I took it.”

“Understandable. How are they?”

“Confused. Mad at me. They want answers I can’t give them right now, but…”

Dean caught her hand. “You’ll have some soon, I think. Guy … have you talked to him?”

At the sound of Guy’s name, she flinched.

“No. I … no. Shit.” Clambering to her feet, she wrapped her arms around herself and
stared off into the distance. “Have you learned anything?”

Dean’s arms came around her and although a huge part of her wanted to pull away, it
felt so very right to lean against him. Was it wrong? What
was
so wrong about this? Taking comfort in the arms of the man she … her stomach dropped
out.

Oh, hell.

Swallowing, she turned around but instead of looking up at him and risk having him
see what she’d just figured out, she pressed her face into his chest and breathed
in the warm, subtle scent that was him, and him alone. “What did you learn today?”
she asked.

“Guy didn’t know anything. Not then. The pieces fell together for him when we went
to see him.” He rubbed his cheek against hers, a soft, reassuring touch that made
her heart roll over. “Look at me.”

She eased back, her breathing slow, steady.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb sweeping across her face while his eyes
bore into hers. “I don’t know where this is going to go, whether the county can build
a case against Theo Miller or not, although I’m going to advise they try. But Guy
did nothing wrong.”

“I never thought he did. I just…” She blew out a breath. “What
did
happen? I can practically
see
it in my head, but there are blank spots.”

“What I do know—off the record—and it stays off the record, Jensen, is that Theo dragged
Guy out of bed and made him bury the dog. Guy is out there with a team now, digging
up the body. Whatever remains of it. He didn’t ever tell Guy why. If that bastard
was as mean then…”

“He was.” Jensen winced, thinking about the cold-eyed monster she’d done her best
to avoid. Evil eyes.
Soulless
 … “He beat Guy. All the time. Once it was so bad, Guy ended up in the hospital. Guy …
he, ah … he has these scars. All over his chest and his back. They’re burn marks.
All of them are old.”

A muscle bunched in Dean’s jaw. “Why didn’t that monster just get shanked in jail?”

“Careful there, counselor,” she murmured.

He stared at a point past her shoulder, breathing slowly. Then, finally, he shifted
his attention back to her. “I’m not going to ask how you know about those scars.”

“Good idea.” She made a face at him. “Besides, he’s nuts about Chrissie … fuck. This
is going to tear her up. And him.”

Dean stroked a hand down her hair. “You’ll get answers now. Remember that. No matter
what.”

“Yeah.” She leaned back against him and nodded, lifting her hands and curling them
into the fine fabric of his jacket, breathing him in, letting his strength soothe
her. Relax her. It wasn’t a bad thing. “I bet Mom saw him hurting the dog. Trying
to get him to fight. Something. Theo … he, ah … he did that all the time. Once I thought
I saw him take this helpless, old stray in there. Butcher, the dog, he never really
had a chance. Theo made him into a monster. She…” Her voice broke.

“Don’t do this to yourself, baby. Don’t.”

His heart broke a little as her voice hitched and caught. “I can’t stop it. He just …
he threw her away. He threw her into her trunk and just buried her in the river. Like
she was nothing.”

“I know.” He caught her against him and pressed his lips to her brow. “But we’ll get
those answers and we’ll make him pay. We brought her home, right? We’ll finish it …
we just have to wait a little.”

“Wait…” Her voice hiccupped. “I’m so tired of waiting.”

“Waiting sucks.” He found himself staring at the headstone as she snuggled in closer.
I’ll take care of her, I promise
.

“Let me take you home, Jensen.”

She leaned against him, her body shuddering. A moment passed, a heavy, sad silence
hanging between them. Then, finally, she tipped her head back and reached up to touch
his cheek. “I’d rather you take me to your place.”

“My place?”

“Yeah.” She licked her lips and then reached up and curled her hands around the lapels
of his jacket. “Take me home. This is one thing I’m not waiting on anymore.”

His heart slammed to a stop inside his chest. “Jensen.” He eased back, just enough
to reach up and cradle her face. “What are you saying, baby?”

“Am I not being clear enough?” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his, smiling.
It was a sad smile, but her eyes were clear, steady.

“Oh, you’re being clear. I just want to make sure I understand what you’re saying.”
He caught her lower lip between his. “You see, I’ve been in love with you for just
a little too long and if I’m misunderstanding you, I don’t know if my heart can handle
it.”

Against his lips, he felt her breath stutter out. Then her lips curved in a smile.
“No … no misunderstanding. Dean. Take me home.”

Can’t get enough of the Secrets & Shadows e-novellas?

Check out

Burn For Me

Available now from Shiloh Walker

Also, don’t miss the next installment

Long For Me

Available May 2014

And for the first print novel

Deeper than Need

Coming soon from St. Martin’s Press

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Shiloh Walker is an author of romantic suspense and paranormal romance. She has been
writing since she was a kid. She fell in love with vampires with the book
Bunnicula
and has worked her way up to the more … ah … serious vampire stories. She loves reading
and writing anything paranormal, anything fantasy, and nearly every kind of romance.
Once upon a time she worked as a nurse, but now she writes full time and lives with
her family in the Midwest.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed
in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

“Break for Me” copyright © 2014 by Shiloh Walker.

All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue,
New York, N.Y. 10010.

www.stmartins.com

Cover design © by Kerri Resnick

Cover digital illustration © by Tricia Schmitt (picky me)