Conned (14 page)

I sat in my truck and found a station that wasn't playing
commercials, then laid my head back and kept my eyes on the school. I didn't
necessarily have to hang out in the parking lot every day, but I did. With
everything so unpredictable about this case, I didn't want to risk it.

I thought of how Emily looked at me that morning when I
walked out in my shirt and tie. I told her I needed to dress up for the
meeting, but really, I just wanted to look nice for when I asked her to lunch.

Guess I should have held out a little longer with the jacket
since she had said no.

Didn't matter. I knew the real reason she said no and it
wasn't because she was already having lunch with Margie who at that very moment
was climbing into her car and leaving the school.

It was because of that damn kiss last week.

I can't count the number of times I'd thought about it and
wished I had never ended it. She was drunk, but she wasn't shitfaced. Maybe I
could have let it go on just a minute longer.

No. It was for the best.

My phone buzzed with a text, pulling me from my thoughts. It
was Gus, once again, asking if I had heard from Ash yet. I had, last night. She
was checking in to make sure we had heard from Dad who was settling in up in
Ireland.

Me: She's fine. Leave her alone.

Gus: Then why won't she answer her phone?

Me: Probably because Luke makes her shut if off during
the day so we can't reach her.

Gus: What an asshole!

I laughed and shot a quick text to Ash in warning.

Me: Gus on the rampage. Prep Luke.

She wouldn't get it until later that night, but it should be
enough of a warning. I could just see her rolling her eyes and making some kind
of dorky joke about it.

She'd asked how things were with Emily and I had been
completely honest.

"Awkward."

She didn't know about the kiss, but I knew she assumed
something had happened out there. Especially when Emily looked breathtaking
with her hair all messed up and her lips slightly swollen and pinker than
normal.

"I'm sorry, Con," she'd said in her pity voice.
"I can tell you like her and I wish the situation was different for the
both of you."

"It doesn't matter," I'd said stiffly, like I had
a million other times.

"It does. You just don't want it to."

My phone buzzed again and I readied myself for the tirade
Gus would have typed, but it wasn't him.

Emily: Thank you for being so nice. Let's have lunch
another day, okay?

She thought I was just being nice?

She had no idea. No idea that she was on my mind all day
every day and not just for my job. No idea that every man that looked at her
didn't realize he had a death wish.

But we wouldn't have lunch another day. We couldn't.

Ash was right. I didn't want it to matter.

I had a job to do and protecting her had to come before
falling for her.

"Yeah, too late for that, Con," I mumbled to myself.

Emily

Emily shifted back and forth on her feet nervously as she
waited for Conall to pull out of the parking lot at their apartment. An officer
from Oakland PD was sitting in his cruiser at the other end, but she knew he
wouldn't be coming in. This was the second time that Conall had left her there
alone to report back to Captain Miller, but each time he made sure that someone
was watching the apartment until he returned. She asked him why he needed to go
to the station to check in and he said it was 'just safer that way'. She didn't
feel the need to pry.

After that day at the school last week, he hadn't been back
to ask her to lunch. Hadn't even mentioned it again. It only made her more
certain that he'd done it to be nice and because he felt like he was obligated.
She was grateful he had because it got rid of Mark. The guy hadn't so much as
looked at her again and it cut out a lot of wasted time she had previously
spent hiding from him, so she was able to relax more.

She hurried to the bedroom and ripped open her duffle bag,
hating herself more and more with each step. At the bottom of the bag, in a
hidden pocket, was the phone Rayce had given her and made her promise to use to
contact him. She hadn't called him since before the incident with Deputy Ross
and since she had been with Conall, she hadn't really let it cross her mind
that she needed to.

She didn't want to.

Her brother had asked her to let him know that she was safe,
though, and had no idea if he knew what went down several weeks ago. The idea
that he was worried about her had been the deciding factor when she contacted
him in the past. She knew what it felt like to wonder and never know if he was
alive or in some kind of trouble. She didn't want to be responsible for it if that's
what he was going through.

It was Conall's skepticism toward her brother that had kept
her from calling the most. She trusted Conall with her life and had let him
plant a seed of doubt in her mind no matter how much she fought it. After these
last couple weeks with Conall and hearing him occasionally talk to Ash while
she was on vacation, she suddenly felt the urge to contact Rayce.

Gus had gone back to Detroit the same day Ash and Luke left.
Looking at him, you would never think he was an emotional man, but when he said
goodbye to his little sister and saw her tears, he looked like a man torn
apart.

Emily wanted that from
her
brother.

She turned on the phone and accessed the phonebook. The only
number stored was his cell phone and her hands shook slightly as she hit SEND.

He picked up after three rings and his voice was hard. So
unlike the way Gus and Conall spoke to Aislinn.

"Emily?"

"Rayce."

A moment of silence passed before she heard relief in his
voice. "Thank God you're alright. It's been weeks!"

She sighed and planted herself on the side of the bed,
keeping an ear out for the front door in case Conall decided to come back for
some reason.

"I haven't exactly been able to call. I'm rarely
alone."

"Where are you?"

She hesitated because she knew without a doubt that Conall
would kill her if she told anyone where she was, even if it was her own
brother. Then again, he would kill her if he knew she was calling her brother
at all.

"Rayce, I can't tell you that. I just want to get this
whole thing over with. I've been scared out of my mind here."

He sighed and she heard a rustle before he spoke again.
"I get it, I do. I just worry about you."

"Why?" she asked in surprise. He rarely worried
about her. She thought the only reason he wanted her to check in was to make
sure she was still on board with testifying.

"You're my sister."

"So? That never mattered before." Conall's words
were still on her mind and she was glad for it. How many times had Rayce turned
his back on her? She had to keep her head straight.

"Emily," he warned. "This isn't going to work
if you don't cooperate with me."

"What's not going to work, Rayce? I'm testifying.
Putting my life in danger to do so and I didn't even really see anything. I
just took your word for it and put the rest of it together. You weren't
concerned about my well being when you were desperate for my help."

"Yeah, well this is going to save both of us."

She shook her head, suddenly realizing that no matter what
happened in their lives, Rayce would always think of Rayce first.

"If it wasn't for Deputy Ross, I would be dead. Ripley
is only going to try harder, Rayce."

He grumbled something she couldn't understand and sighed,
"Listen, I'm working on that, okay? I think I may be able to get inside
and find out how they are locating you. I'll do my best to protect you, Em, but
Ripley isn't the kind of guy you can negotiate with."

I'll do my best.

Not the same confidence Conall had shown when he promised to
keep her safe.

"I have to go, Rayce. I shouldn't even call you. You're
my brother and I want to help you, but…"

"Emily."

"I'll be safe here. Just be careful. I'll see you
soon."

Then she hung up and swore to herself that she wasn't going
to call him again. Putting herself at risk was one thing, but Conall and his
family was a completely different thing.

She turned off the phone and threw it back into her bag.
Then she went to the kitchen to find something to eat. Conall wouldn't be long
and she didn't want him to think something was wrong so she needed to relax and
forget about the sense of dread she had felt while talking to Rayce. He was her
brother and she loved him, but she was starting to feel like it just wasn't
enough.

***

Conall

Over three weeks of avoiding her as much as my job would let
me all stretched into one huge line of tension that ran between us constantly.

I may have kept my distance, but it didn't mean I didn't
look. Or mainly just stare. She was quiet, but there was a spark in her that
flared every so often whenever I did something that annoyed her and believe me,
I tried my best to annoy her, but the reason had changed. At first, it was to
keep her at a distance. Now I just wanted to see those green eyes flicker with
some kind of response and the response I got was usually worth it.

I hadn't brought up her brother again, but I didn't need to.
Miller had agreed that following the kid would only help us and I got the
feeling that he was having a hell of a time not asking the same questions I
was. The concern had been about Stanton and getting information from him, no
one gave a shit about what was going on with the witness as long as she showed
up at the trial.

We had gotten into a routine. I would make breakfast, we
would eat it while awkwardly carrying on a pleasant conversation, she would
finish getting ready for work, we would walk out to the truck together in
silence, I would drive her to work and she would make small talk, I'd wait
outside of the school most days, run errands on other days with the promise
that she would call me every half hour to check in and an officer patrolling
around the school until I returned. Then, once work was over, I would pick her
up at the front door, walk her to the truck, drive her back to the apartment,
she would make dinner, we would eat with the same awkward yet pleasant conversations,
then go to bed early.

Sounds boring?

God, I wish it was, but damn it if I didn't look forward to
starting over every morning. It was better than hearing the shower turn on at
night and listening to her get ready for bed. I would rather deal with the
frustration of spending time with her than the frustration of knowing she was
completely naked and imagining what it would be like if all of this was real.
She wouldn't be in there alone every night that's for sure.

Weekends were brutal, but she usually stayed in her room and
read a book for most of the morning, then we would do whatever else we needed
to do. Separately most of the time, other times together.

It was Sunday night and another weekend was coming to a
close. I could look forward to having most of the day tomorrow to myself. I
wouldn't have to see her hips sway back and forth as she walked across the
apartment. I wouldn't have to look at her cute pink toes tucked beside my thigh
on the couch while we watched TV. I wouldn't have to listen to her hum while
she cleaned or cooked.

I would have eight hours of me time… wishing like hell it
was me
and her
time.

"Dinner is almost ready, Conall," she called from
the kitchen. I was in the bathroom trying to find a way to keep the hair out of
my eyes, but was having no luck whatsoever. It was getting too long. When I
didn't respond, I heard her footsteps getting closer and froze when she
appeared in the doorway.

She was wearing an apron that Ash insisted on sending with
her when we moved in. There was lace lining the edges and for some ridiculous
reason, every time she wore it, I imagined it was lacy lingerie and she wasn't
wearing anything underneath it.

I may be a gentleman, but I'm still a man. And she was still
the most beautiful woman I had ever had the pleasure of looking at.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly until the images
went away. It helped a little, but then again, she was still standing there and
my body was still humming.

She took me in and smiled. "Your hair is really
long."

I sighed and looked back in the mirror, avoiding the sight
of her looking at me in that way she always did. The way that somehow made her
lips look fuller. Every time I looked at them, it took me back to that night
she drunkenly kissed me. I had felt like a coward pushing her away, but it was
that or pull her in and consume her.

"Yeah, it's bugging the hell out of me. Can't find the
time for a cut."

"Oh, well I can cut it for you if you'd like."

That was a bad idea and I knew it in my bones, but my mouth obviously
didn't give a damn and betrayed me. "Really? You can do that?"

She smiled and winked at me. God, did she have any idea what
that did to me? Probably not. "Well, yeah. It's just a haircut. I've done
it before. Come eat and we can cut it after."

Then she was gone and my head was spinning. It was just a
simple haircut. Nothing intimate.

Yeah, I kept telling myself that but just thinking about her
fingers in my hair and her body leaning over me made my jeans tighter and my
mouth dry.
You are a 32 year old man, Conall. Get a grip.

Holding her hand or putting my arm around her shoulders had
been necessary while we were out in public. Simple things that complicated
everything. It felt too good to touch her and it was even worse when she'd had
to initiate that touch.

She'd spotted an older couple watching us in the grocery
store a few nights before and took it upon herself to slip her body under my
arm and plaster it against my side. To say I was stunned is an understatement
and if she hadn't been quick to whisper what was going on, she would have ended
up pinned to the shelves of bread behind her.

Luckily, the couple had just said hi and exchanged a few
pleasantries about my dad and it wasn't until we had gotten back to the
apartment that I was able to get myself under control. Now, she was going to be
plastered against me again if only for a haircut. I would just have to endure
it, because the thought of getting it out of my eyes was too damn appealing.

Right, that's the only reason.

I made my way to the kitchen and saw a plate already dished
up and piled high with food. Emily was a damn fine cook and the thought of
losing her skills in another several weeks was disappointing. I had no desire
to go back to Denver and live off of take out and boxed dinners. It wasn't that
I couldn't cook. Mom had made sure we knew how to cook at least a little bit
and Dad was just as pushy with it, but it was time consuming and I had other
uses for that time. Since Emily enjoyed it, she had taken over dinner, and I
found another reason to want her desperately.

The expression on my face must have been pretty grim because
when I finally focused on Emily, she looked anxious.

"Are you not going to eat it?"

I shook my head and pushed thoughts of life without her out
of my mind. "No, I'm going to eat. Just thinking."

I sat across from her and we ate in silence for a few
minutes before she spoke. "Do you have something to cut your hair or do we
need to go to the store?"

"I've got some stuff in my shaving kit. Should be able
to make do."

She nodded and went back to eating her food. Nothing else
was said for a while, but it wasn't uncomfortable like it had been for the last
few weeks. It was… content. Maybe the avoiding was over and done with.

"Do you have to go in tomorrow?" I asked as I
cleaned up my plate and set it aside.

She was still working on her food and nodded casually,
"Yes, but it's only a half day for Mrs. Gordon again. Should be an easy
day."

"Good."

"Have you talked to your dad recently?"

"Yep, just spoke with him last night, should be another
week before I hear from him again. Keeping busy with my grandparents."

She nodded and stared down at her food while she ate. I
watched her, not realizing she was actually aware of me watching her until it
was too late and she kept glancing up at me warily. The tension started to grow
and by the time we finished and the kitchen was cleaned, the thickness in the
air between us was stifling. The line between pretending and reality was almost
non-existent.

She went down the hall to the bathroom to set up a chair and
go through my shaving kit to find what she needed. I was still in the kitchen
re-drying the last already dry pan and wondered if I should back out. There
wasn't much space to move around in there.