White Collared Part Four: Passion (2 page)

She smiled at him. “Take it from me. You already have.”

They had started toward the exit when Jaxon came through the back, his eyes bloodshot and his hair as wild as the day they’d met. Logan nodded and departed through the front door, leaving her with Jaxon and Nick.

Jaxon’s face was set in stone. “Are you both okay?”

She tried to gauge how he was feeling, but he looked so damned tired, she couldn’t get a read on him.

Nick gave Jaxon a manly half-hug with a smack on the back. “Yeah, man. It’s over. Miles Joseph killed Alyssa.”

Jaxon raked his fingers through his hair. “Why? Why would he kill her?”

His question took her aback. Why had Joseph killed Alyssa? Would they ever learn the truth?

“I don’t know, but at least you can reclaim your life,” Nick said.

Jaxon nodded, carefully avoiding her gaze. “Thank you. For everything.”

She set her hand on his forearm. “Jaxon? Can I speak with you for a moment?”

Nick’s gaze ping-ponged between her and Jaxon. “I’ll get the car and wait for you outside.”

Jaxon’s lips pressed together in a grim line.

She inhaled sharply, fighting off the dread snaking around her chest and squeezing her heart. “What happens now?”

He frowned, his face pinched as if he were in physical pain. “Now?”

“You know, with us.”

The hurt in his eyes nearly knocked her off her feet. “There is no us. You broke up with me, remember?”

She blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. It was one thing to show vulnerability in the bedroom, but here, in the police station, she had to keep her composure. “I’m so sorry I didn’t trust you. Could you forgive me?”

He pulled her to his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “There’s nothing to forgive. The whole time I was demanding honesty from you, I was lying myself. If anyone needs to apologize, it’s me.”

She relaxed into him, the rhythm of his heartbeat under her cheek soothing her. “Don’t get me wrong. It hurts to know you kept Bethany Gold a secret from me and that you lied about your alibi. Now that Alyssa’s killer is dead, there’s nothing keeping us from being together. We can do this for real.” For the first time since she’d left his house, she allowed herself to hope they could make it. “I belong to you, Jax,” she said, intentionally using that name.

Inhaling sharply, he palmed the back of her head. “I want you. You have no idea how much. When I heard that you had gone to Miles Joseph’s office without backup, I wanted to bend you over my knee, spank your ass for being reckless, and handcuff you to my wrist so you’d never be able to go anywhere without me. You’ve been my bright star in an otherwise dark sky this past week. But I don’t know if I have anything to give back.” He stepped back from her and rubbed a hand down the stubble of his cheek. “I’ve made so many mistakes in both my marriage and my relationship with you. You deserve much more than I can give you right now.”

A dull ache settled into her chest. “What are you saying?”

“I need some time to figure out what to do next with my life. And I need to do it alone. I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.”

The words burned like acid, and she swallowed the sour taste of rejection. “You haven’t hurt me,” she said, the lie as familiar as her face in the mirror. “I knew going into this with you that it was temporary. I was only doing my job. I just got carried away.” She sucked in a breath through her nose, holding back a sob. “Good luck, Jaxon.”

“It was more than a job. Don’t lie to me and don’t lie to yourself. What we had was real. If circumstances were different, I’d never let you go.” He stared at her as if memorizing every line of her face, and for a brief moment, she thought he’d change his mind. “But I have to. I’m a sinking ship, and I’ll only take you down with me. I care for you too much to be responsible for drowning you with my problems.”

A sliver of anger pierced her heart. “Don’t I get a say?”

He shook his head. “You’re too young and naïve to understand that I’m doing this for you.”

“I may be young, but you know better than most people that I’m far from naïve,” she said, the venom spilling from her lips. “Don’t try to bullshit me because I’ve been here before. When things get complicated, it’s easier to run and hide rather than face your fears head-on. I should know. I’ve been doing it for years. You’re a coward, and you’re right. You don’t deserve me.”

He moved closer and reached for her, but she shrugged him off. She didn’t want him to console her. She wanted him to admit she was right and to fight for her, but she knew she was fighting a losing battle. Like almost everyone else in her life had done, he was abandoning her. It didn’t matter why he was ending their relationship because the end result was the same, and whether he was doing it for her or himself, it hurt just as much.

Closing his eyes, he dropped his hands to his sides. A thousand minutes seemed to pass as she waited for those final words. His beautiful eyes opened, and she saw the sorrow in them. “Good-bye, Kate.” Taking her heart with him, he turned and walked out the door.

She started to follow. To beg him to admit that he didn’t want to end things between them. But she stopped. He’d asked for time, and she owed him that. If it was meant to be, he would come back to her.

Out of habit, she unzipped her purse and wrapped her trembling hand around her pills. How many should she take?

One to curb the racing of her damaged heart? Two to numb the pain? Three to forget what she’d lost? Four to soar above the clouds?

The entire bottle to end it all?

She released the container. If she could survive attempts on her life while working undercover, then she could survive a broken heart. After all, she was exactly where she’d worked so hard to be. Interning for Nicholas Trenton and now practically guaranteed a place as an associate at the firm.

She held her head high as she left the police station. Her stomach clenched at the sight of the media vans pulling into the lot. She was surprised that the news had been kept under wraps as long as it had.

Maybe one day she’d be able to forgive them for the hell they’d put her through as a teenager, but she wasn’t quite there yet. Although, she had to admit, Rachel was growing on her.

Ignoring the reporters’ shouts, she slid into the heated seat of Nick’s car. “Get us out of here. I’m ready for home.”

He hit the gas and they barreled out of the lot before any of the press could follow. Of course, they all knew where she lived now.

Nick rested a hand on her thigh and squeezed her knee. “I don’t think you should be alone.”

She covered his hand with her own. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, then I don’t want to be alone.” He swallowed hard. “Come home with me.”

Chapter Three

S
ITTING ON NICK’S
buttery leather couch with her legs curled under her, Kate tried not to think about Jaxon as she watched the six o’clock news, ate a whale’s weight in Chinese food, and helped Nick finish off the second bottle of white wine.

They were celebrating their victory in style.

Nick’s condo loft was in a converted warehouse, with high ceilings, exposed beams and brick, and open space. His kitchen boasted top-of-the-line stainless steel appliances, and modern gray and white furniture with red accents filled his living room. His home reminded her of the man himself: sleek lines, conservative, with hints of something exciting hidden underneath the outside appearance.

She caught some lo mein noodles between her chopsticks and slurped them into her mouth, missing only a few that dropped back into the paper container.

Nick’s phone buzzed again, and like the dozens of times before, they ignored it. At first it had been exciting when he got calls from networks like CNN and MSNBC; but after a while, it had gotten burdensome. He’d handed the task of scheduling the interviews to Lisa, including Rachel Dawson’s exclusive with Jaxon. Still, they continued to call him.

Somehow they’d managed to get her number as well, although not nearly as many bothered with her. After all, she wasn’t the one the media called a modern-day hero. That honor had been bestowed on Nick.

The networks were interviewing anyone who’d ever met Nick and speculating on whether he’d win if he chose to run for Michigan Attorney General in four years. He’d blushed when they first mentioned it, but she caught the sparkle in his eye. He was considering it.

Of course, every story needs a villain, and the mighty Miles Joseph made a great one. Luckily, they hadn’t mentioned anything about her past so far, but as she’d learned in the last week, the information wasn’t buried as deeply as she’d hoped.

“Can I try the noodles?” he asked.

She handed off the container and watched as he picked up some noodles with the chopsticks and sucked them into his mouth, leaving his lips glistening with oil. A week ago she would’ve been tempted to lick them clean, but she didn’t think of him that way anymore.

Nick was a friend, her mentor, and her boss. Nothing more.

She played with the gold around her neck. Even if she did have romantic feelings toward him, as long as she wore Jax’s collar, she couldn’t bear to move on.

The day—hell, the week—had finally caught up with her. Giving in to her buzz, she cuddled into the couch and closed her eyes.

Darkness surrounded her.

Hannah lay on the carpet, blood flowing from a bullet hole in her forehead. She gazed at Kate, her mouth gaping open like a fish on a hook. “You killed me.”

Kate’s heart pounded. She flipped open the top of her Tic Tac container and shook it upside down, but the pills disappeared before they reached her hand.

Male laughter came from Hannah, but now she was Miles Joseph. A hunting knife stuck out of his chest. “Your sarcasm will get you killed . . . in the courtroom.” He continued to laugh as if he’d heard the greatest joke.

She tried to escape, but her wrists were chained to a wall. She couldn’t close her eyes. Couldn’t cover her ears. They were punishing her for their deaths.

“I should’ve never taught you to use a gun.” Her father took Joseph’s place, a deer in his arms. Blood poured from his eyes and mouth.

Her lips moved, but no sound came out. She had to tell them she was sorry or she’d never leave this hell.

“Katerina. Save me.”

Jaxon stood in front of her naked, blue rope binding his wrists. No longer in chains, she gripped a gun in her hands.

She pointed it at Jaxon.

And shot him.

Her eyes opened to a bright light. She gasped for air, the sound of Rachel Dawson’s voice coming from the television blaring in her ears.

Nick caressed her cheek. “Kate. You’re okay. It was just a nightmare. No one can hurt you now.”

She bolted upright and took in her surroundings. She was at Nick’s place.

“How long did I sleep?” she asked, her voice raspy.

“Three hours. I debated carrying you to bed, but I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful until the last few minutes.” He inched closer. “You want to talk about your dream?”

“I don’t remember it.” The lie rolled off her tongue.

Even after waking, the feeling of being trapped lingered. Nothing from her nightmare made sense. She hadn’t killed Hannah, and the manner in which they’d died was wrong. Most disconcerting was Jaxon’s appearance.

She rubbed her wrist, almost expecting marks from the dream’s chains. “Did I miss anything exciting?”

Nick flipped off the television. “Not a thing. They just rehashed the same facts in a dozen different ways. Doesn’t matter how they paint it. Miles Joseph killed two women and tried to kill you.”

In the meantime, they’d never apologize to Jaxon for raking his good name through the mud.

She stood and the floor wobbled beneath her feet. The three hours hadn’t been enough to quell the fatigue.

Nick popped up from the couch and put a steadying arm around her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

A nervous flutter tickled the inside of her belly. “I can sleep on the couch.”

If they shared a bed, she trusted that Nick would remain a gentleman, but she didn’t want to give him the wrong idea about them.

He pushed her toward his bedroom in the back of the loft. “No. Take the bed. I’ll take the couch.”

The room was much like the rest of his place. Functional and uncluttered. The gray-marbled sleigh bed was in the middle of the room with matching nightstands on each side. A couple of framed pictures sat on the dresser.

She picked one up, smiling to see Nick in a graduation cap and gown between an elderly man and woman. “Are these your parents?”

He came up beside her. “Grandparents. I never knew my father, and my mother took off shortly after she had me. One of those stories where being strict backfired. They were really religious. Sent her to an all-girls high school. Wouldn’t let her date. And she was pregnant with me by graduation.”

“They must be so proud of you.”

“My grandfather died while I was in law school, and my grandmother died during my first year at Joseph and Long, but yes, I think they were proud.”

She put down the frame. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Mesmerized by the sight of a young Alyssa sandwiched between Jaxon and Nick, she brought the other photograph closer. They all smiled brightly, their arms slung around each other’s shoulders.

Kate’s throat tightened as she studied the love of Jaxon’s life. She was dressed casually in shorts and a blouse, but she still managed to appear glamorous with her sparkling diamond stud earrings and diamond choker. Despite Alyssa’s smile, there was sadness in her eyes.

“That was taken a month after she and Jaxon started dating,” Nick said wistfully.

Poor Nick. He’d spent so much time working since Alyssa’s murder, he probably hadn’t had the chance to mourn. She rubbed his back in a feeble attempt to console him. “You miss her.”

He took the frame from her and gently returned it to its spot on his dresser. “Every day.” He shook his head and gave her a little smile. “You’re tired. I should let you get some sleep.” After rummaging through a drawer, he handed her a T-shirt. “You can wear this to bed. If you need anything, I’ll be on the couch.” He kissed her forehead. “’Night, Kate.”