Bound by Blood (Bound #1)(28)



“How do you know?”

“When he called the phone—”

“That you took.” It was smart she’d taken it to call the police, but stupid that she’d been there by herself in the first place.

She gritted her teeth. “Don’t interrupt. When he called Martin’s phone he said ‘I hear it’ or something like that.”

“Then he was probably talking to someone.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Her eyes glazed over for a moment and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head.

“What is it?”

Instantly she jerked out of her trance and cleared her throat. “Nothing. Can I stay here tonight? I don’t think whoever it was recognized me but just in case I’d feel safer here.”

“You need to call Sheriff Marcel,” he said mildly, knowing it wouldn’t do a bit of difference in convincing her.

She shook her head. “No way. Those jerks don’t know what they’re doing. They’ll probably think it was me or something.”

Mac bit back a sigh because he understood her anger. Her parents had been killed by a drunk driver and the current sheriff’s predecessor had botched the entire process. It had gone to trial but when they’d lost the blood test results with the other driver’s blood alcohol content, it had been over before it began. And it didn’t help that the attending officer had been a new recruit and had gotten so flustered on the stand, the defendant’s attorney had ripped him apart.

“You can’t lump Marcel and his guys in with…his predecessor.” Mac didn’t even like to say Frank Reed’s name. It only made pain flash in Eve’s eyes and seeing that was like someone stabbing him.

“I can do whatever I want,” she said, though she’d lost most of her steam. “Besides, Marcel’s mad at me because he thinks I got in the way of his last investigation. I don’t want to give him more ammunition against me.”

“He’s pissed at you because you keep turning him down for dates.” How did she not know that?

Eve blinked twice then frowned at him. “He’s not serious.”

Mac snorted. Oh yes, the sheriff was. He’d been after Eve since she’d moved back to town a couple years ago. And he wasn’t the only one. It shouldn’t bother Mac. He had no claim on her. But damn if he didn’t want her for himself. Things between them would be too complicated though and he couldn’t travel down that road with her. “Fine, I’ll place a call to him tomorrow and—”

She jumped out of her seat. “No! I already have a plan and I don’t need your help. Tomorrow I’m going to head to the station and act like I’m following up on a lead about Allen Martin. I can’t accuse the DA of anything until I’m positive he’s involved in this.”

“You don’t think just showing up at the station is suspicious?”

Her lips pulled into a thin line as she shook her head. “I’m a journalist. I’m always bugging the sheriff about stuff.”

Mac scrubbed a hand over his face. It took all his self-control not to call the sheriff but in his gut he knew it wouldn’t do much good. She’d already called the cops and if he told the sheriff what he knew, Eve could get in a lot of trouble. Not to mention it would break her trust. Not something he could do and live with himself. Standing, he pushed his chair back. “I’m beat so—”

“Sorry, I know I barged in on you. If you have a t-shirt or something I could borrow to sleep in I promise I’ll stay out of your hair.”

His lower abdomen burned with need at the thought of her wearing something of his. Instead of responding—because he didn’t trust his voice—he grunted something incomprehensible and motioned for her to follow him.

Hating how tight his skin felt and the uncomfortable sensation coursing through him, he stalked down the hall to his room. The five bedroom house was big for just him and now he felt as if it were taking forever to make it across the house.

As he finally entered his room he cringed. A pile of dirty clothes lay in one corner and he’d tossed his dirty work clothes at the end of his unmade bed. Nice.

Behind him, Eve chuckled under her breath and muttered something about him being ‘such a guy’

but he ignored it. He was definitely feeling like a guy right now. Being near her was making his brain short circuit and giving him a raging hard on. It was embarrassing that he couldn’t control himself. He shifted uncomfortably as he jerked open one of his dresser drawers and rummaged around until he found one of his old Marine Corps t-shirts. It was about a decade old and he’d gotten it when he’d first enlisted. Since that first year in he’d put on a lot of muscle so while it would still be big, it wouldn’t completely swallow her. Next he grabbed a pair of sweatpants that would definitely be too big but it was all he had.

When he handed the bundle of clothes to her, their fingers brushed and they both froze. An undeniable electric arc of energy sparked between them and made him almost jerk back. Staring into her dark eyes, he fought that familiar drowning sensation he experienced every single f*cking time she was near. She made him feel like a randy teenager. Out of control and horny all the time. He could lose himself with her. His brain struggled to think of something—anything—to say but she beat him to the punch. It vaguely registered that this was exactly why he avoided her. She mumbled ‘thanks’ as she took the clothes but she still didn’t make a move to leave. Just stared at him as if she wanted him to kiss her. Ten years ago it wouldn’t have surprised him, but it did now. She wasn’t a teenager anymore. She was a beautiful, grown woman and shouldn’t want anything to do with a roughneck like him.

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