28 Days(74)
“I’m angry that my father agreed to an abortion without even telling me I was pregnant. To me, that is worse than him keeping me drugged for two years. Although, I’m upset that the life we created with love was taken, I don’t have one memory of knowing.” Saige shook her head. “I’m not making any sense.”
“I understand what you’re trying to say. You’re saying that you didn’t know, so how could you mourn for something you had no clue about. In this case, our child.”
“I don’t want to think about it anymore and I want to try and put that in the past as much as I can, because the thought of someone invading my body in that way makes me want blood...that report will be given to Coulter, regardless of my father being responsible.”
Quinten tugged her sweatshirt free of her shoulder and pressed his warm lips against her skin. “A can of worms has been opened and Coulter’s out for blood. Trust him.”
“I do...will you take my mind off everything,” Saige asked, and pressed against the arousal he couldn’t hide even if he tried.
“You sure?” he asked.
“More than sure.” She smiled, and tugged her sweatshirt off and pushed her leggings to the floor. She cupped her breasts and watched him gulp when his eyes landed on the large mounds through the mirror.
“Wait.” Quinten looked around and grabbed a towel to cover the edge of the vanity before he pushed her against it. “Spread your legs.”
She did and then felt the gentle caress of Quinten’s palms over her bottom and the tickle of his fingers between her thighs. His breath was warm against her skin as he nuzzled into her neck.
“You have too many clothes on,” she hissed between her teeth when he removed her hands from her breasts and replaced them with his own, rolling and pinching the hard nipples between his finger and thumb.
“Not for long.” In two seconds, he managed to remove his sweats and shirt, and pushed his penis between her thighs; the heat of his body coursed down the entire length of hers.
Saige pushed back and, reaching between her thighs, rubbed the head of his shaft that teased her clit with her thumb.
His hands trembled against her skin as he lifted one of her thighs up, and brought her knee onto the vanity. “Hold steady.”
She couldn’t do anything else, and then she felt him nudge into her. Once he was seated inside of her, he brought her leg down, which caused him to curse a blue streak as she clenched around him. “So good,” he grunted.
His hand held onto her breasts as he started to slowly glide in and out of her. She wouldn’t be able to hold on for long because of the way he made her feel—like she was his and his alone.
“I love you, baby,” he whispered against her neck. “Never forget how much I love you.”
“Never,” she agreed.
Day 20
9:15am
* * *
Coulter observed Paul Lewis through the one-way glass as he sat silently next to his lawyer. Every now and again, Paul would lean over and whisper something to the lawyer, and it seemed to Coulter that he was almost...excited. He really couldn’t figure the man out.
Lost in thought, Coulter vaguely registered the arrival of the DA, but couldn’t ignore him once the man cleared his throat to get Coulter’s attention.
“He has no idea what he’s going to face in prison, does he?” the DA, Gregory Bishop, stated.
Coulter sighed. “No...and that worries me.” He glanced at Greg and back to Paul. “He said he wants taking care of. Who confesses to murder for that?”
Greg stared at Paul and laughed. “I guess he does.”
“He has gone into detail about each murder except the first one. In my experience, serial killers never forget the first life they took. They remember it, and try to better it. Why doesn’t Paul Lewis remember?” Coulter shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Then go and ask him.” Greg shrugged when Coulter met his eyes. “He’s talking, regardless as to what his lawyer has advised. It’s as though he has no secrets, so ask and see what he says—how he reacts.”
Coulter turned his gaze back to the two-way glass wondering what was really going on in the head of Paul Lewis.
“I’ll stay and watch,” Greg commented, and probably used it as his way of telling him he didn’t have all day.
Coulter nodded and walked from the room. He took a minute to himself in the hallway and ran a hand down his face, exhausted. The case had kept him awake at night because something niggled at his conscience but what was the big question.
He glanced at the door and before he could have second thoughts, he pushed his way inside.
Paul Lewis sat straighter in the chair when he saw him, but the man’s lawyer frowned and whispered something to Paul, who ignored whatever was said.
“Detective,” Paul started. “I was told that I wouldn’t see you again so this is a nice surprise.” He moved around on his chair as though he was excited.
That word again.
“I wanted to go over some questions with you.” Coulter took the chair across from them, and his frown deepened when he glanced at Paul who eagerly awaited the questions.
Coulter sat back in the chair and held Paul’s gaze. “Tell me why the college girls were killed one way, and Fern and Tracy another...and what I can’t understand is why you have no recollection of your first killing—that doesn’t normally happen with a serial killer.” He’d leave Jocelyn and Saige out of it for now.