Vindicate (Recovered Innocence #1)(18)

“You knew the way here,” I blurt out.

“I came by once and checked it out.”

“Why?”

“It’s important.” He touches a finger to my hair, sweeping it out of my eyes. His movements are slow and purposeful. He doesn’t say it, but I feel the words just the same—You’re important.

I don’t know when this happened or why I’m just now noticing it, but I realize that he’s become important. He’s a partner in the battle I’m waging to save my brother. Since the day he joined the fight he’s been there every step of the way. Sometimes, like now, I can’t remember what it was like before he came on board.

“Cora?” He murmurs my name and it floats across my senses, lighting them up.

Leaning across the console toward me, his gaze drops to my mouth. I know what he means to do and I want him to do it. Everything in me leaps and I bow my body toward him. His hand is on my cheek and he’s so close his breath whispers across my skin. I can smell the cologne he wears and the after-coffee mint he popped earlier. My lashes flutter closed and my lips part. I want this.

And then his mouth is on mine. Gentle, so gentle. He’s agonizingly slow and careful. I can hardly move. His hands are in my hair and the kiss changes. I fist the front of his shirt, bringing him closer. Everything spirals. A whirling of sensations I didn’t know existed. He’s good at this, so good. I want it to go on forever and ever. But he’s already pulling away.

Fear spikes within me. Did I do something wrong?

His hands are still in my hair and he’s staring at me like he doesn’t know what happened. His breathing is rough and labored as though he just ran a mile and stopped suddenly to kiss me. Mine isn’t any smoother, and with my heart pounding so hard it hurts, I pull on his shirt, bringing his mouth back to mine. I want more. His tongue pushes at the seam of my lips and I open for him. He changes the angle and that’s when all hell breaks loose inside me. I want him. I want him to not stop. Ever. I want things I don’t have any knowledge of and I want them all with him.

What am I doing?

Some sense slips in and I use the hand that pulled him closer to push him away. He lifts his head. His eyes are even darker than they were before and his gaze flickers between my eyes and my mouth. If I yanked him back toward me he’d keep on kissing me. I know this, I want it, and yet I push him away.

He traces a finger along my bottom lip. “Cora, Cora, Cora,” he chants breathlessly.

I run my fingers around the edge of his face. I feel like I’m just now seeing him. We keep touching each other, little discovering touches. He leans in and smells me, nuzzling his nose along my jawline to my ear. My hands are in his hair, sifting through strands that are softer than I thought they’d be. I breathe him in like he did me and he makes a noise at the back of his throat that tests the limits I just set for myself.

“Cora.” He sounds agonized.

I know how he feels. I ache in places I didn’t know could be so electric and sensitive and alive. All of my senses are on alert for what he’ll say or do next.

“We have to stop.”

I’m confused. Why?

“God, not here.” He catches my face in his hands, stopping me from licking the spot just below his ear. He gives me a quick kiss. “If you keep that up we’re going to give the neighbors a show and what I have planned for you is very, very private.”

“You have plans for me?”

Putting his forehead to mine, he makes a frustrated noise. “You have no idea.”

This cheers me immensely.

He pulls away and looks down at me in surprise. “That is the most amazing smile I’ve ever seen.”

I shut it down and try to duck my head, but he’s got ahold of me and I can’t move.

“No, don’t hide it. I like it,” he says.

I glance past him to Cassandra’s apartment building. Reality creeps in. Gripping his wrists, I pull on his hands so he’ll release me. We’re sitting out front of Cassandra’s apartment, making out. That’s wrong on every level. I’m supposed to be helping Beau, not indulging in my own curiosities.

My gaze goes to the building across the street. If I close my eyes I can still see the police cars with the lights flashing sitting out front. Police tape marks off the area, while crime-scene techs and police officers walk in and out of her apartment. The coroner’s van is parked close by, waiting to take Cassandra’s body in for examination and autopsy. The scene is eerie and macabre, made worse by the image of Beau rushing toward the apartment, screaming Cassandra’s name. I try to grab him by the waist to hold him back, but he slips past me. He’s crying. That was the only time I’d ever seen my brother cry.

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the memory, but the emotions of that night are as raw now as they were then. What am I doing here with Leo, while my brother sits in prison?

Leo releases me and sits back in his seat. The moment that never should’ve been between us is gone. His mouth—which I now know is soft and skilled—is pressed into a frown as he turns to see what stole my attention from him. I climb out of the car. I don’t wait for him. The apartment pulls me in, drawing me across the street. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12 steps to the second floor. The door on the right is open, so I walk through it.

A small living room/kitchen/dining room, then a short hall. The bathroom is on the right, the bedroom straight ahead. Her bed was on the far wall. With the window open she would’ve had a nice breeze while she slept. But she’s not sleeping. Her eyes are wide open. Blood smears her face, neck, and hands. Red mars the pretty floral sheets. Her hands are tied together above her head, the rope woven through the wrought-iron headboard. Each foot is tied to the iron posts of the footboard. She’s naked. Her legs are wide open and there’s blood there too.