Reprisal (9 page)

“Both of the girls were adopted.” He says.

“Yeah, and?”

He pauses before taking a deep breath and looks me dead in the eyes. “The DNA report from semen
extracted from the girls stomachs match the DNA found during your exam, after.......”

I suddenly feel the hair on my neck stand up and fear courses through my veins. “He can’t be still alive. I killed him. Didn’t I?” I look at Chuck and see the same thing in his eyes that I feel in mine.

“Yes, Sydney. You killed him. I have the coroner’s report right here.” He says as he slides it towards me.

I finger the folder and slowly open it and scan the contents.

Cause of death: Gunshot wound to the cranial cavity.

“Then.....how?” I ask.

“We don’t know, yet. But we will Sydney, I promise.” Gabe whispers to me as his fingers brush mine.

How can he promise me that?
I look at him, tears pooling in my eyes. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Gabe.”

“Oh, but I can promise you. We will get to the bottom of this and pull this predator off the streets.”

I nod, but I know that’s not possible. Is it? How can the DNA match......my father’s DNA?

He’s dead......he’s been dead for years.

“There’s another thing I noticed, though.” Gabe says, bringing me out of my thoughts.

I look at him, but I can’t speak.

“Tattoos. Both girls have tattoos on their right hip.” Gabe says. I nod because we figured this out yesterday.

Gabe looks at me intently. He knows. I shake my head, because I don’t want to talk about it, but if I keep it inside, it could jeopardize the case.

“We covered this yesterday, Gabe.” Chuck states. I know I need to come clean here, because this is all too much.

“I have one on my right hip.” I say quietly. “The number four. My father branded me as his fourth conquest.”

No one says anything for a few minutes, but Gabe finally speaks up. Chuck knew about the marking, but for some reason he kept quiet too. Maybe waiting for me to speak up?

“You never had it removed?” Gabe asks.

“No, it’s my reminder that I survived.” I say as my fingers find my hip, lightly touching the area that is inked.

Gabe squeezes my fingers in a consoling gesture. Feeling the electric pulse that shoots
through my fingertips, I snatch my hand back and look at him. I don’t need consoling. I don’t want pity or someone feeling sorry for me. I’m a survivor and I plan to stay that way, no matter what happens.

“Gabe, why don’t you walk Sydney home?” Chuck says from behind his desk.

Gabe looks at me for confirmation and I nod, yes. “Yes, please take me.....home.”

Gabe

I silently thank Chuck for the early dismissal. I nod at him and stand, holding my hand out for Sydney to take it. She folds her small hand in to mine and I gently tug her out of her chair, pulling her close enough to smell her scent. But not close enough to where I’ll get another “Keep your hands off of her” lecture from Chuck. She smiles up at me and a solitary tear rolls from her eye. I brush it away and as our eyes meet, I know.

I know I want to get to know this woman better, I want to know what it feels like to be buried inside her. To take all of her worries away, if only for a brief time. She’s suffered through so much heartache and grief throughout her life, she deserves ha
ppiness. She deserves to feel loved and taken care of. She needs to know that not all men are like her father and that there is good out there.

Hell,
she’s
good as gold. She spends her days counseling young boys and girls that have gone through similar things, helping them get through the trauma and pain. I know she doesn’t want pity, I can see that. I admire her strength, her beauty. I want her to feel comfortable with me, to understand that I’ll never hurt her.

Chuck clears his throat and I jerk my head to my left to look at him. He’s smiling, but has that “Don’t fuck with me look” in his eyes. I nod at him and look back to Sydney, “You ready?”

She nods and steps around me towards the door. I follow her out and we begin the walk down the cold, concrete hall towards the lobby.

She walks ahead of me and I watch her hips sway as she moves. She is simply stunning and doesn’t even realize it. She’s wearing tight jeans, ankle boots with a low heel. Her jacket covering her tee
shirt, and her gun. Damn, she was so sexy shooting that gun, and damn good at it too. My Glock gave her a jolt the first time, but she stood her ground and made an ass out of me.

I damn sure don’t want to be on the other side of that barrel when she’s holding it.

She shoves through the heavy metal door and holds it open for me. I’ve managed to stay behind a bit, lost in my thoughts. “You coming?” She says anxiously.

“Yeah.” I say as I pick up my pace.

I follow her out into the lobby and through the door, onto LaFayette Street.

She turns back to me, “Look, I know Chuck wanted you to walk me home, but I’m f
ine, really.” She says, patting her hip, reminding me once again she’s packing. Knowing that she can take care of herself turns me on. I know I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help it. She. Affects. Me.

“I know you are. But I want to. You just found out some scary information and I don’t want you being
alone.” I say as I look down into her eyes, my hand finding its way to her soft cheek.

I don’t want her to go home by herself, I want her to go home with me. I know ways to take her mind off of everything, even if just for short time. Or all night long, if she’ll let me. Her creamy skin, her smile, her - everything. God, to lose myself in her, just for tonight.

We stare at each other for what feels like hours. She feels it too, I know she does. She shyly ducks her head and turns towards the sidewalk. I remember the last time we stood here, when I picked her up and carried her off. How much I’d like to do that again, only carry her to bed, or the kitchen...or whichever room we hit first.

But she’s vulnerable and scared, so I know I need to proceed with caution. I can be an ass, but I won’t be with her. She’s special and I plan to do what I can to make sure she knows it.

As we walk along quietly, I take her hand and gently squeeze it. A symbol of reassurance. I know she thinks she doesn’t need it, but I give it to her anyway. We make casual conversation as we stroll along as if there isn’t a killer out there that could be coming after her next. Well, he’s gonna have to go through me first and he won’t win that fight. I’ll hang him up by his nuts if he messes with Sydney. Not sure why I’m so protective of her, and I decide that now is not the time to try and figure that out, cause we are now standing outside of what I assume is her apartment building. Wow, she must do pretty well. Then I mentally smack myself upside the head. She’s a Forensic Psychologist, of course she does well. And my dick jumps again, just knowing that she’s self-sufficient and independent. That is a big turn on for me, though the undying urge to protect her envelopes me.

She punches in a code on the wall beside the glass door and it clicks. Good, she’s secure in this building. No one can get in that doesn’t belong here. I follow her inside like a lost puppy,
cause she didn’t turn me away at the door like I thought she would. We get to the elevator and she turns to me.

“Coffee?” She asks.

I nod, cause I can’t speak. She’s in her territory now and her beauty really hits me. She’s smiling and comfortable, relaxed. Our eyes stay locked to each other’s and the chime of the elevator shakes us both awake. We step inside and she pulls a card out of her pocket, scanning it and hitting the P on the wall. Penthouse? Whoa. I lean back against the wall of the elevator and watch her. She stands there staring at the floor indicator and groans when the door opens.

In steps an older woman with
gray hair and a small white puppy in her arms.

“Mrs. Lancaster, how nice to see you.” Sydney says.

“Doctor DeCarlo! How are you?” She asks Sydney as I watch Sydney rub the little dog behind the ears.

“Hello, Rocky boy. How’s my
favorite doggy.”

The dog’s tail wags frantically and he licks Sydney in the face. “Lucky dog.”

Sydney turns to me with her eyebrows raised. She heard me. Good.

Mrs. Lancaster looks back to me as I lean against the back wall. She moves her body in such a way that forces Sydney back towards me, a twinkle in her eye as she moves. This little old lady knows exactly what she’s doing, obviously playing Cupid. I wink at her and she blushes.

The elevator stops on another floor and three couples get in, dressed in bathing suits and carrying towels, pressing the R for the roof. Confused, I look at Sydney. “Roof top pool.”

I nod in agreement as she moves back even closer to me while the six new guests file onto the elevator. Her ass is now pressed against me and her warm body is awakening mine. Mrs.
Lancaster glances back at me and winks back, her eyes then traveling up and down our bodies that are now pressed together. If I don’t get a grip on this quickly, Sydney’s going to notice.

Finally, the elevator stops on the eleventh floor and Mrs. Lancaster steps out of the elevator, waving her
hands and blowing me a kiss as she turns back. “She’s a riot.” Sydney says to me as she looks back over her shoulder at me. There are still six other people in here, but they are having an intense conversation about the Mars rover or something I have no interest in. I glance down at the dark headed beauty now purposely grinding her ass against me. I instantly harden completely and there’s no way she doesn’t feel that. She’s teasing me and enjoying it.

We finally get to the top floor and the doors open ever so slowly. She sashays her ass right out and makes a turn to the right. I again, resemble the lost puppy following the only person that has paid it attention.

I trail behind her all the way down the hall and she stops at the corner penthouse, opening the door and walking in. As I follow her in, I take in the apartment. Very calm and comforting.

Creams, tans and dark woods. A mocha
colored leather sectional sofa fills the room and faces a large screen television mounted to the wall. I hear the door click behind me and she stops at the small table by the door, removing her jacket and exposing her holster. Her breasts are packed in nicely behind her tight tee shirt, her nipples pressing through her bra and the thin material of her top.

I need to get myself under control or I’m going to blow right in my pants, without her even touching me. I mentally will my cock to behave and enter the spacious apartment. This place must take up the entire half of the building. I walk to the wall of windows and look down on Fifth Avenue. The city looks so peaceful and quiet from up here. I see her reflection behind me and she stands there staring at me. I can feel the heat of her eyes traveling up and down my body.

I watch her through the reflection in the glass and then turn to meet her gaze.

“Coffee? Or would you prefer a beer?”

“Coffee, please.” As I need to keep my wits about me.

I follow her in
to the gourmet kitchen which is stark white. Stainless appliances and granite counter stops. She indulged in everything when she bought this place.

“Do you cook?” I ask as I look around the kitchen.

“Yeah, why? Are you hungry? I could whip up some spaghetti or something.”

“Sure, I’m a man. I’m always hungry.” I laugh and mentally smack myself. Nice line, Gabe.

Way to impress the lady.

She chuckles and starts removing pots and pans, “I hope you don’t mind boxed noodles as I don’t have the ingredients to make it fresh.” She asks as she pulls a box out of the pantry.

“You make your own pasta?”

“You seem surprised. I am half Italian you know, so yea. I can make my own pasta. I just ran out of flour last week and haven’t been to the store.”

She reaches in to the fridge and her ass is now......shit, stop it. She pulls out a whole bunch of things and starts chopping and dicing and mixing and I am totally impressed. She hands me a beer and I nurse it slowly, totally entertained watching her cook. She seems so comfortable in the kitchen that I wonder if maybe she missed her calling. “What happened to the coffee?” I ask her as she stirs the sauce.

“It’s late, I figured you didn’t need the caffeine.” She responds as she opens up a beer for herself. And here I thought she would be a wine drinker, especially since that’s what she was drinking at Blazer’s the other night. She wraps her lips around the
mouth of the bottle and I wish that it was me her lips were on. Later I think. I hope anyway, cause I have to have her.

“What can I do to help?” I ask, trying to take my mind off of her lips.

“You can set the table.” She replies as she points to the cabinet next to the kitchen table. I proceed with keeping myself busy setting the table. By the time I’m done, she brings in a big bowl of pasta covered in thick meat sauce. She goes back to the kitchen and brings out fresh parmesan cheese, fresh garlic bread and two more beers, then sits down right next to me. I expected her to sit across from me, but she sits immediately to my left.

I take my first bite and groan. I see her smile out of the corner of my eye as she takes her first bite. The smell of garlic and basil take over the room. “This is amazing.” I tell her as I shovel my face. I fell like a barbarian that hasn’t had food in weeks, but I can’t stop. She leans forward to me and with her finger, wipes off a bit of sau
ce that has apparently found its way to my chin.

Then she sucks the sauce off of her finger in a seductive man
ner. It takes every bit of self-control I have not to take her on the table right here, right now.

I grin back at her, but proceed to finish eating cause my mama taught me not to waste food, so I’ll finish eating, then I will have her for dessert.

As we eat, I see a bit of sauce on her lower lip and decide to play her own game. I lean towards her and gently tongue away the sauce. Her eyes flash and she presses her soft lips to mine, taking total control. I pull back and look deep into her eyes, she wants this as much as I do. But she will not take control of the situation, that’s my job.

I pull her from her chair and plant her sexy ass right
in my lap, knocking her fork onto the floor at the same time. The metal clangs on the tile and neither of us flinch. Her hands come up to my face and I slip my tongue in her mouth, dueling for control. She shifts her body so she’s now straddling me and I can feel her heat through two layers of denim. My fingers travel down her sides to the hem of her tee shirt and I slowly pull it up over her head, my lips feeling her loss immediately.

Her lace covered breasts are exposed and begging to be touched, her nipples poking proudly
through the cups of her bra. I press my thumbs against the hardened nubs and gently pinch them between my fingers. I hear her suck in a breath and she removes her lips from mine, throwing her head back exposing her neck. My mouth finds her sweet spot and I kiss, lick and gently nip at the tender flesh of her neck while my fingers continue to torture her breasts.

She looks down at me, heat in her eyes and her breathing erratic. The heat from her pussy singeing my cock through their protective barriers, and she begins to grind her hips. My hips instinctively rise up to meet her thrust for thrust. I need to sink myself in to her
awaiting heat, but not before she gets her release. I can tell by her frantic movements that she needs this, maybe more than I do.

I stand from my chair and hold her against me, her legs wrapping around my waist, and I move to the living room and gently lay her down on the sofa. She licks her lips and I lower myself over her, pressing my lips against hers. Her tongue meets mine lick for lick, stroke for stroke. I could drown in her kiss, and plan to do just that.

She pushed me back and mimics my actions earlier, pulling my shirt over my head. I’m left bare chested with my holster still attached at my hip. She flips the buckle and my Glock tumbles to the floor sliding under the coffee table.