Читать книгу Holding The Line: A romantic suspense that will get your pulse racing - Kierney Scott - Страница 14
ОглавлениеBeth pulled in behind her sister’s pickup truck. She stared down at her clenched hands on the steering wheel. The full moon provided enough light for her to watch the color drain from her fingers. She needed to get it together, change gears, go inside and be a mommy again. Her life was complicated, but it was compartmentalized, that is the only way it worked. When she was at work she was one person, when she got home, she was another. Those were her rules. Everyone followed them, except Torres. He crossed every line. There was nothing neat or ordered when Torres was around. There was no divide between work and home life; he filled both worlds completely.
He couldn’t be back. Not now.
It was time for some sugar therapy. Beth reached into her glove box and found her emergency supply of M&Ms. A more adjusted person would talk her feelings through with Adam Frazer, the department psychologist, but Beth was past pretending, M&Ms were as adjusted as she got.
She popped a green candy into her mouth and sucked on the hard shell until it dissolved. She took a deep breath and allowed the sweet to work its magic. When the chocolate had completely dissolved, she popped another, and then another. Slowly the knot in her stomach loosened.
Thirteen pieces later, she was ready to face the world again.
“Hey, I’m home,” Beth called when she opened her front door.
“Mama!” Alejandra squealed. She ran to Beth and jumped into her arms. She was still wearing the blue plaid pinafore that was her school uniform but the neat braids she had this morning had given way to a mass of tangled ringlets. Combing that out wasn’t going to be fun for either of them.
“Oh Pretty Girl. Am I glad to see you.” Beth gathered her in close and breathed in the clean scent of her hair.
“Mama, can I show you the picture I painted? I made you a princess butterfly. Do you wanna see?”
She sat her down. “Of course I want to see your picture but tell me about your day first.” Beth spent a lot of time worrying about Alejandra, but she didn’t need to. Ally took most things in her stride. Beth often worried if the trauma of her early childhood would impact her but so far there was no sign that it had, probably because Alejandra had only been a year old when her parents had been murdered. She had no recollection of them, which was a blessing but on some small level it also made Beth feel guilty. She loved her child as if she had given birth to her, but she hadn’t. Another woman had carried her and loved her. Beth was sad for her, Alejandra’s first mother. She just hoped that if her first mom could know how well Alejandra was loved, she would be all right with the way things turned out.
Alejandra ran to her room and returned seconds later with a painting, complete with bold strokes of pink and orange, her favorite colors. “Do you like it, Mama?” Her wide eyes were bright with anticipation.
Beth admired the picture. “I love it. But now I need to decide which painting I should take off the refrigerator to make room for this one.” Their house was filled with Alejandra’s paintings. They were stuck to every flat surface. Her sister called the decorating practice “Preschool Chic”.
“No, Mama. It’s for your office so you can remember me now that I’m at big school.”
Beth leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “This will look perfect on my desk but you know, Pretty Girl, I never forget you.”
Alejandra smiled, clearly pleased with that response.
“Where is your Auntie Paige?”
“I’m in here,” Paige called from the kitchen. “I am cutting the cake. You have had dinner, right? Ally had pesto chicken and carrots.” Her sister appeared carrying two plates with wedges of cake big enough to be doorstops. Her sister was still dressed in surgical scrubs with the name of her practice embroidered on the top.
“That is far too big. Alejandra can have a quarter of that,” Beth said.
Paige smiled. “That is your piece.”
“Well in that case.”
Beth sunk her fork into the layers of sponge and whipped buttercream frosting. She relaxed as the sugar high took hold. “Mmm I needed this.” The M&Ms had only whetted her appetite.
“I bet you do. What happened today? You had a longer day than me.”
Beth put down her fork. She glanced and Alejandra and then back at her sister.
“I am working on a big case.” That much wasn’t a lie. She was always working on a big case. In her line of work she had to keep lots of secrets and she was fine with that, but she hated outright lying.
“You going to catch the bad guy, Mama?” Alejandra piped up.
Beth wiped a streak of frosting off her little girl’s face. “I always do.”
The doorbell rang.
Beth looked up. She wasn’t expecting anyone. “Alejandra, finish your cake and then go brush your teeth. It’s late and you have school tomorrow.” In her mind, Beth started listing all the chores she needed to get done before sunrise. She already knew 6am would come too soon.
Beth opened the front door.
Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him.
“Stop opening your door without asking who it is,” Torres scowled. He was wearing the same clothes but his hair wasn’t tied back any more, it fell loose around his shoulders. She fought the urge to touch it. She never knew him to have more than a shadow of hair.
“Lucky for you I didn’t ask because I’m not sure I would have answered.” She hadn’t yet adjusted to the changes in his appearance. She wondered how long it would throw her to see him with hair. She had once thought that his menacing appearance was due in large part to his shaved head but his thick dark hair did nothing to soften him.
“Who is it?” Paige called.
Beth froze. “You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered. “It’s not safe.”
“I’m dead, remember? Nobody is looking for me.” Torres still stood in her doorway. He was too big for her small house, his presence too much. He had only been to her house once, four years ago, before they had become lovers. It felt different know, he was a stranger, a stranger that knew her intimately.
“Beth?” Paige called again.
“Just a minute.” She turned again to Torres. “My sister is here. She lives here now. Not in my house but in Texas.” So much had happened since he left, details he knew nothing about, some small and some life changing. She felt protective over both; they were her details from a life she had created without him.
“Tell her I’m a friend.”
His words hit her hard, internally knocking her off balance. Beth took a breath to steady herself. “We’re not though are we?”
A look of pain flashed across his dark features. Beth couldn’t be sure if she had really seen it because it was gone in an instant.
“Tell her we work together then.”
Bitterness pierced her heart. “I’d rather not have to tell her anything. You were supposed to meet her the night you left. Remember that? I wouldn’t have to tell her anything if you had met her that night.” Pain surged in her, as new and fresh as the night he left, so much anger and regret and sadness. And under it all was a layer of shame and remorse that gnawed at her.
“Beth,” he said softly. He reached out and touched her bare arm. His palm was rough and callused. They always were, that part of him hadn’t changed.
Beth pulled away. ‘Don’t. You don’t get to touch me any more.”
This time there was no doubting the pain, it was written clearly across his face. Her heart clenched at the realization she had hurt him but then she remembered all the hurt he had caused her. And she realized it would hurt him even more if she gave him false hope. She needed him to understand, even if it meant hurting him. He needed to know why she couldn’t pretend that things would ever be the same.
“Hey.” Paige came in, still holding a piece of cake. She stopped suddenly when she saw Torres. Her brows knitted together in concern. She looked to Beth for an introduction or an explanation, anything to explain the menacing stranger standing in her doorway.
Beth cleared her throat. God she hated lying to her sister, but she had to. “Paige, this is Armando. He is working with me on the case I told you about.” The use of his first name sounded strange to her. She had never called him Armando. He didn’t even look like an Armando to her.
Paige sat her plate on the hall table and then extended her hand for Torres to shake.
A strange sensation washed over Beth as she saw her sister meet Torres, like two worlds colliding. She had wanted so badly for Torres to be able to meet her family, the night he disappeared Torres was meant to meet them for dinner. Then there was nothing more that she wanted than for Torres to become fully part of her life and meet her family, but now it felt like an icepick being stabbed between her shoulder blades.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Paige. Your sister has told me so much about you.”
Beth watched as Torres’ gaze scrutinized her sister. He was taking in each of her features. For a long moment no one spoke, then Torres shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You look so much like your sister. I wasn’t expecting that.”
Paige smiled. “Yep, those Thomson genes are strong. Have you worked with Beth long?”
Beth coughed. “Um, no,” Beth answered for him. “He just started.”
“Cool. I don’t usually get to meet the people Bethy works with. It’s really nice to meet you, Armando. Hopefully I’ll get to see you again so I can ask you all the gory questions Beth refuses to answer.”
Alejandra came running through from the kitchen. “Mama, I can’t find my toothpaste. There is just your stingy kind.”
The little girl stopped short when she saw Torres. “Hi,” she said. Alejandra stood back, no doubt weary of the scary-looking stranger in her home.
“Hello.” Torres’ eyes narrowed as he looked at Alejandra. Beth could see his mind racing, putting together pieces of the puzzle. A look of realization spread over his face dark face. “Alejandra?” he asked in disbelief. His shock was palpable. His head snapped to Beth, searching for answers.
Beth nodded. He recognized her. She had been little over a year old the last time he saw her but he recognized her. Her heart constricted painfully at the realization. It was another connection she couldn’t deny.
Beth turned her attention to Alejandra. “I bought you new toothpaste yesterday. It is still on the counter in the kitchen.”
“OK. Thanks, Mama. I am going to brush my teeth and then Paige is going to read me a book. Right, Auntie Page?”
“No,” Paige said as she scooped her up. “I am going to read you four books.”
Alejandra’s giggles filled the hallway as Paige carried her off to brush her teeth.
“You still have Alejandra,” Torres said. Shock was clear in his deep voice, the sound resonated in her. Alejandra was a tangible connection to the past they had shared. Torres had been with her the day the little girl’s family had been murdered. He was the one that brought them to safety.
Beth nodded. “Yes, I adopted her. My life went on. Lots of things happened after you left.” She stressed the last part. Torres needed to know things had changed, decisions had been made; things had been done that she could never take back.
Torres shook his head. “I didn’t leave you, Beth. I didn’t choose to be gone.”
Beth shifted from one foot to the other. “Why are you here, Torres?”
“I need to speak to you, Beth.” He took a deep breath. “I just need to see you.”
Beth looked down the hall to make sure Ally and her sister were out of earshot “Why? There is nothing to say” Beth shook her head. She had lots of questions but she couldn’t handle the answers, not yet, maybe someday. Her throat was burning. Tears threatened in her eyes, ready to fall as soon as her body gave permission, but Beth wouldn’t. She had cried enough over Torres. “No,” she amended, “actually there is a whole hell of a lot to say but nothing I want to hear.”
Torres reached for her hand and this time she didn’t pull away. “You need to understand what happened. I didn’t leave you, Beth.”
She held up her hand. She didn’t care that he left because of an email. The end result was the same, he left and her life went on without him. She wouldn’t waste time being angry or wishing things were different or feeling guilty about the choices she had made. She had made some shit choices, but they had gotten her through. “It will all be in a report. I will read it then. Look Torres, I’m glad you’re OK,” She took a deep breath to fortify herself and give her the strength to continue. He needed to know there was nothing left of them. “But I’m not glad you’re back. Please leave. I can’t deal with this now.” The words stung her but they needed said. If he stayed any longer, she might not have the strength to make him go and he had to, too much had changed. They weren’t the same people. Once upon a time she would have let herself pretend that things could work. It was how she got by, pretending, but that was a luxury she didn’t have any more.
Beth tried to shut the door but Torres didn’t move, his solid form would not budge. There was a sadness to him she could not bear. It hurt to look at him. Her pain was reflected and magnified in him, and she couldn’t fix it. “I’ll go once I explain,” he said.
She closed her eyes and refused to let herself cry. “No, Torres. I’ll read it in Jessop’s report.”
“No, Beth. I’m not a detail. You told me once you like to think of the shit in life as details that you choose to ignore. That’s what you want to do, read the report and pretend it is someone else’s life. My life is not a fucking detail you can ignore,” he rasped. His grip bit into her wrist. She would have winced but she would not let him know it hurt.
Anger ignited in her, burning with an intensity that threatened to consume her. Her eyes narrowed into angry slits. “You became a detail the moment you crossed the border into Mexico. You had a choice, Torres. You could have called me.” Every choice she made had been determined by that decision. She was as angry about that as she was about him leaving. Things would have been so different if he had just stayed.
But he hadn’t.
“I thought you knew. Christ, Beth, just listen to me. I know this a lot for you but for fuck’s sake just let me explain. I know you’re scared. You’re always scared but stop running.”
Beth’s hands fisted. She wasn’t scared, she was angry and she had every right to be. And Torres had a right to be hurt and angry, there was just nothing she could do about it other than add it to her list of regrets.
Paige came around the corner holding up a pair of footie pajamas. “You OK?” Paige said. She glanced down at Beth’s wrist, still encircled. “Ally said these pinch her toes.”
Beth nodded. “I’m fine.” She pulled her hand from Torres’ and this time he let her go. “Yeah, those are too small. She has a pair on the back of the chair in her bedroom.”
“Are you sure everything is OK?” Paige asked again.
No everything wasn’t OK. It hadn’t been OK in a long time but she was just about managing to pretend it was before Torres came back. She wanted to scream and shout and tell Torres how much he had hurt her. She wanted to feel everything she had pushed down for so long and then never feel it again. She wanted it to be over. “Yes everything is fine. I just need a favor. I am going to need to go back out tonight. I know it is a big ask but can you take Alejandra to your house tonight?” She needed to get it all out with Torres and then be done.
Paige gave her a dubious look. “Of course I can take Ally. But wouldn’t it be easier for me to stay here? She is almost ready for bed.”
Beth shook her head. She couldn’t look directly at her sister. She would know she was lying. “Please can you take her? I don’t know what time I’ll be home. I’ll get her in the morning and take her to school.”
Paige looked uncertain.
“I would really appreciate it. Armando and I have a few loose ends we need to tie up.” Would his Christian name ever sound normal to her?
“Yeah OK, sure,” her sister said at last. “Call me if you need anything.” Paige shot her a knowing glance.
Beth watched her sister’s car pull out of the driveway. She turned to face Torres. “You can’t come here again.” She needed to establish the boundaries right away. When it came to Torres the lines always became blurred. But this was one line they couldn’t cross. For her sanity, they could not cling to the past or pretend they had a future.
He nodded.
“No. I mean it. It’s not just because it is unsafe. I don’t want you here. I don’t want lots of strange men around Alejandra. I’m someone’s mom now. I have changed.” She listed her excuses, but there was only one reason why: Beth could not live through the pain again. Once was enough to last a lifetime.
Once Torres knew the truth, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her anyway. The realization should have comforted her, she wanted closure after all, but it hurt in a way too painful for her to even acknowledge.
Torres nodded again. He stared down at his hands.
She was being rude. Jesus, the least she could do was offer him a drink. “Do you want some coffee?” She would offer him some of the wine she was about to pour herself but Torres didn’t drink.
“No. I don’t want coffee. I want you to tell me you know that I didn’t leave you.”
Beth uncorked a bottle of red wine. She shook her head. She couldn’t look at him. Torres was here, in her house. The number of times she had prayed he would come back, and now he was there. It was too much. His presence overwhelmed her. “It doesn’t matter, Torres. You left and I moved on.” She poured herself a glass right to the top and took a sip. Cake and wine weren’t the most nutritious meal she could have picked, but she needed it tonight.
“Of course it fucking matters,” Torres said incredulously.
“Please sit down.” Beth gestured to the sofa. From the corner of her eye she watched the muscles in his jaw tense, and the silver slash of his scar grow taut over his bronzed skin. Beth squeezed the stem of her glass to keep from running her hand over his scarred face. He was so close. Close enough now to touch, his broad shoulders, his solid chest, and the thick muscles of his arms, the arms that were once her favorite place. “You are making me nervous.”
“I always did. I always scared you.”
Beth was about to object but he was right. Torres scared everyone. She chose the seat opposite him. She needed the physical distance to be able to look at him without giving in to the need to touch him. He was beautiful and scary and utterly masculine. She loved the way he looked and she wasn’t going to deny herself the pleasure of looking at him one last time. “Yes you did. I thought you would hurt me and you proved me right. Moral of the story is: trust your gut.” Beth took another long sip of wine.
Torres shook his head. His hair was long and thick now, not shaved close to his scalp, but his features were just as harsh. How could she have ever thought that he was only terrifying because of the way he looked? It wasn’t the shaved head or the scars or the tattoo. The fear came from something deeper. It was him, who he was, the things he had done; the things he was capable of.
Torres’ stare bore down on her. “No, I think the moral of that story is once a chicken always a chicken.” There was no mistaking the bitterness in his voice. She disappointed him. Best for him to know now, that she always would.
“No, I never trusted you because I knew you would hurt me.” She paused, she didn’t want to give him any more power but she needed him to know. “And you did. So well done to you for living up to expectations.” She raised her glass as if to toast him and then brought it to her lips. “I knew loving you could only end in tears. But I did it anyway. So here is to my stupidity.” She toasted the air again and then took another long sip. Her skin was warming.
“I only went to Colombia to protect you.”
“No!” she scoffed. “Your reasons for going to Colombia had nothing to do with me. Maybe you tell yourself they did, but we both know you went to find El Escorpion. I should have known. You needed blood. Stupid me. You didn’t get to kill Martinez so you went after El Escorpion. Stupid, stupid me.” She downed the last of her wine and then stood up. “Are you sure you don’t want some, Torres? Drinking alone is pathetic even for me.”
“Then don’t drink.” His voice was curt. He reached for her glass but she pulled it away.
“I need a drink. I deserve a drink.” She walked back into the kitchen and poured herself another glass of wine. She returned minutes later with the glass in one hand and a bottle in the other. “Let me tell you about my day. It has been pretty shitty. It started with my partner telling me that the agent I recruited was dead.” Beth took another drink, this time straight from the bottle. “No, he wasn’t just my agent. He was the love of my life.” The effects of the alcohol must have kicked in because she was able to admit that out loud, and it didn’t even sting. It was just a statement of fact. “Then I find out he isn’t actually dead, he was held captive by the same cartel I recruited him to dismantle. Is that ironic or just pathetic?”
Beth raised her hand to cut him off. “Don’t interrupt me. You said you wanted to talk. Well I’m talking, Torres. So now I am torn. I feel like he just reached into my chest and ripped out my heart. I say he but I mean you, Torres. You hurt me. I hurt for a long time.” She closed her eyes. “I want to hate you.” She shook her head. “No, I need to hate you. But I see you and I want to hold you and want to know every single detail so I can feel them too. I want to know what you went through. I just want to be able to give you comfort because when I see you in pain I can feel it and I need it to stop. I need it to stop, Torres.”
“Oh Christ, Beth. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“No. Don’t. It’s too late for apologies.” She took a long sip of wine.
Torres shook his head. “It’s not too late. It’s never too late until one of us dies. It’s not too late to fix this, to fix us.” Torres stood and crossed to her. “It’s not too late.”
“Everything has changed, Torres.” The tears were threatening to spill from her eyes. She took another drink to numb herself. “I’m a mom now.” There was so much she could tell him but it would be cruel. She wished he could just understand without her having to spell out what she had done.
Torres smiled. Only half of his face rose.
Beth closed her eyes. “Don’t do that. I missed that,” she admitted. “No one smiles like you.”
“I can’t help smiling, Beth. You make me happy even when things are shit between us, I’m still happy to be around you. I smile because I’m happy to be in the same room with you again. I’ve wanted this for a long time, just to be in the same room as you. And I love that you adopted Alejandra. I don’t know why I was surprised. Of course you would adopt her. That’s just you. That’s why I am smiling. You’re a good woman.”
His words tore through her like shrapnel. “I’m really not.” Beth finished her glass of wine and then poured another before she set the bottle down on the floor. Tomorrow her head was going to hurt like hell but tonight she might just achieve numb. “I really wish you knew how far off the mark you are. There are things I could tell you.”
Torres put his hand on her. His palm was rougher than she remembered, even more callused. Her skin warmed under his touch. “Don’t tell me then. I don’t need to know. You need the lies you tell yourself; maybe I need mine too. You’ve moved on, I know. I see it, I don’t need to hear about it.”
“Please don’t stand so close to me.” She couldn’t breathe. He was too close. She remembered this, his smell, the way she was drawn to him even when she fought it. There was a safe zone with him, where rationality prevailed, but once he was close, all higher reason broke down and she was propelled by something primal. “Torres. We can’t go back.”
Beth stood. She needed to create space between them again. But instead of moving further away, Torres used the opportunity to close the gap between them. “I don’t want to go back,” he assured her.
His breath was hot on her neck. She shivered at the sensation. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch him. My God how she wanted to stroke his skin and run her hands through his hair. He was too close for her to think.
“Things have changed,” she said again.
Half his mouth rose in a grin. “Not the way I feel. Not the way you make me smile. Not the way my body responds to you.” He stepped closer. She could feel his body pressed against her. He was too close but she wanted him closer.
For a long moment she couldn’t move. He was so close. Torres was back, here with her. Her lids gently closed as she breathed him in. Her body softened…reflex…muscle memory…instinct.
But then she remembered.
Beth pulled away. “No. I can’t do this.” She picked up her glass and took another drink. She wasn’t anywhere close to numb yet. She couldn’t do this. Their time had passed, that bridge had been well and truly burned.
Torres took the glass from her. “Getting drunk isn’t going to solve anything.”
Beth clenched her hands into fists to keep herself from reaching for him. He lowered his head and kissed her neck. The caress of his tongue on her delicate flesh sent a bolt of desire to her core.
She needed to stop.
But she wanted him.
She tried to push him away but her arms would not listen. “It might make me feel better.” It might make me want you less.
He shrugged. “No it won’t. It will just give you something different to feel shitty about.”
Beth’s eyes flew open. If he only knew. “Trust me, I have plenty to feel shitty about.” She pushed away from him and grabbed her wine glass.
“Beth, stop it! I’m not going to let you do this to yourself. You’re not even enjoying it. You’re just drinking to get drunk.”
Beth laughed but there was nothing joyful about the sound. “Now you’re here to save me from my mistakes. Where were you all the other times? Where were you when I let my mom be institutionalized? I needed you then. Where were you?” She threw her head back and downed the contents. Her throat burned.
“I’m sorry.”
She held up her hand to cut him off. “No, there is more. You’re back and you think we can go back to the way it was. Before, you would just have to look at me and my panties would come off. That is how it was then. But it can’t ever be that way now. You wouldn’t want me if you knew. Ask me why, Torres!” she demanded.
“Stop. You’re drunk. Don’t say things you’re going to regret.”
“Ha! I wish words were all I had to regret,” she scoffed. “Maybe if you had been here, I could have limited my regrets to only stupid drunken words. Where were you when I needed you, Torres?”
She pushed him. Her hands struck into the solid wall of his chest. He didn’t budge but his strength only served to ignite her smoldering anger. The pain was fresh as the day he left, like acid on a paper cut.
“Where were you when I was fucking Patterson?!” There, she’d said it. It was out there and she could never take it back.
Torres’ face changed, went impossibly dark, his eyes glazed over.
She struck her hands into his chest again. “Where were you? I needed you then.” Beth struck him again. “Say something, you son of a bitch. Where were you all the times I was fucking Patterson?”
Torres pinned her arms to her sides. “Shut up,” he seethed. His voice was ragged. “Don’t say any more.” His body shook as he tried to control his anger. There had never been any love lost between Torres and Patterson; they hated each other actually. Her partner had been against recruiting Torres from the beginning, he thought he was too unpredictable, too emotionally invested, too much of a liability. And for Torres, any shred of goodwill towards Patterson had been lost when Patterson let Beth take the blame for the ambush in Mexico.
Beth knew sleeping with Patterson would hurt Torres, more than if she had slept with anyone else. And maybe that is why she picked Patterson. Or maybe because it was because he looked at her the way Torres once did. Or maybe it was because she knew it would never be messy with Patterson. He made her feel good, desired. Sometimes he even made her forget. And Patterson knew the rules; what happened off the clock would never affect their professional relationship.
She pulled against him but she was overpowered. “No, you need to hear about it. Four years is a long time. Did you expect me to be waiting for you? Ask me when the first time was.”
“Stop it,” he commanded through clenched teeth. The muscles in his jaw knotted. He pushed her against the wall, pinning her in place. “I don’t want to hear it.”
The air was being squeezed from her body; every breath was a battle. Her body ached. It took all her strength to fill her lungs enough to say, “Two days. Two days before he was fucking me. Two days.”
“I told you to stop.” Torres pulled her away from the wall. She could finally breathe, but not for long. He gathered her against him. “I told you to stop,” he said again.
He pushed her back until her knees hit the couch. She fell back. His hands reached for his zipper. In an instant, his cock was free, long and hard.
Beth opened her mouth to speak but Torres covered it with his hand. “No more,” he rasped. “I can’t hear any more.”
With one hand he clasped her mouth, with the other he yanked up her skirt. He pulled at her panties. She bucked her hips. The movement was enough for the satin to give under the strain. Over his ragged breath she heard the fabric rip and then she felt the rush of cool air against her naked flesh.
With a single stroke he penetrated her, filling her completely. Her eyes widened with pain as the head of his cock battered against her cervix. He took his hand away from her mouth. “No more talking,” he said.
Wordlessly she nodded. He withdrew slowly until just the tip of him sat poised at the entrance of her body. “I’m here now,” he said as he slid into her again. Her legs spread to make room for him. “I’m here now.”
Beth’s hands went to his hair, fisting in the dark length. Slowly he moved in and out of her, claiming her. In that moment she belonged to him. Her body wasn’t ready, but she didn’t fight him. He was here now, with her, in her. She could worry about things later. Tomorrow their relationship would still be over, tomorrow she could still drown in regret. She could cry tomorrow.
Right now he was inside her and that was all that mattered. It was the thing she had trained herself to stop wishing for. But her body still craved it, still knew how to respond to his touch.
His pace grew faster, less restrained. Her hips bucked to match his thrusts. With a final powerful thrust, he came, his cock pulsed as warmth filled her.
He collapsed on her. They lay together, him still inside her, his cheek pressed against hers. The only sounds were his ragged breaths. Neither dared to speak. Once one of them did, it would be over, this moment, this reprieve.
His heartbeat was strong against her chest. He was heavy on top of her but she didn’t want him to move. She would gladly give up breathing, to have him close for another moment.
He sat up. His hand reached up to his cheek. His face was slick with her tears. His eyes narrowed in confusion. And then his face contorted in horror as realization sank in. He ran a hand through his hair. “Oh fuck, Beth.” In his hand he held the remains of the underwear he had ripped from her body. “Fuck, Beth, I’m sorry.” His voice broke from the strain of the emotion.
Beth pushed herself up on her elbows. “It’s too late to apologize. For any of it. That is what I was trying to tell you.” She hung her head. They couldn’t take back anything that had been said or done.
“Fuck,” he said again. “Oh Christ. I’m sorry.”
Beth swung her legs around so she could sit up on the couch. “Don’t, Torres. I don’t want to talk about it. It happened, it’s fine. I just don’t want to talk any more. I’m done.”
He ran a hand through his hair and swore again. “Let me run you a bath.”
Beth shook her head. “No. Don’t you see? It’s over. If it wasn’t over the minute you crossed the border, it was over when I slept with Patterson.”
Torres flinched at the mention of her partner’s name.
The small movement was enough for her to realize why she had picked Patterson: because it gave the control back to Beth. It was Beth’s way of closing the door forever. “It’s over, Torres.”
“Fine.” Torres buttoned his pants. “But I can’t leave you like this after what just happened. Let me take care of you. Let me run you a bath.”
“No. It’s over. I don’t want you to run me a bath. I just want you to go.”
“Beth, I’m sorry.” Shame marred his dark features.
She shook her head again. “Stop saying that. Apologies won’t fix anything. They aren’t going to make us better. They’re not going to rewind the clock. It’s over.”
“I shouldn’t have done that to you.”
Beth’s head snapped up. “You didn’t do anything to me. We did something together. We said goodbye, Torres. I knew what was going to happen when I sent my sister and Alejandra away. We have a lot of history. We needed that closure. So don’t apologize for that. If you want to apologize for anything, apologize for leaving in the first place. Or better yet apologize for letting me fall in love with you.”
Torres reached for her hand and she didn’t pull away. “I won’t apologize for that.”
They sat in silence until Beth leaned over and kissed the slash on his cheek. “What are you going to do now? I mean not tonight. I mean in general with your life.”
Torres looked down at the ripped panties in his hand. “I don’t know. I’m stuck. I’m dead after all.”
Beth shook her head. This was one time when she hated her job. She hated knowing what was going to happen next. “Armando Torres is dead. Jessop will probably already have a cover chosen. It’ll take a few weeks to get everything in place but then you can start a new life somewhere. If you have any preference for state or preferred name, best to let him know now. Any idea where you want to go?”
Torres laughed bitterly. “I don’t want to go anywhere. For four years, you were the home that I fought to get back to.”
Beth’s breath caught in her throat. Pressure built behind her eyes. It was her turn to apologize. “Torres…” Her voice cracked. “I’m sorry too. About all of this. About everything. I’m sorry for all the mistakes I made. I’m sorry for your pain. I’m sorry I’m not the person you hoped I was.” She bit her lip to keep from crying. “I’m sorry that someone took our chance away.”
Torres stood up. “Is this goodbye?”
Beth grabbed his hand. She needed him to be in her life for another minute. Just sixty seconds that no one could take away. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his scar again. She didn’t dare kiss his lips, she wouldn’t be able to say goodbye if she did. But she had to say goodbye, because it was over. There was no coming back from their mistakes. They might be able to pretend for a while, but they would always be there, hanging between them, mocking their attempts at happiness. “Take care of yourself, Torres.”
