There Are No Saints (Sinners Duet #1)(77)

“He’s not stupid enough to leave evidence. You’ve never found evidence on any of the Beast’s victims.”

“You think Shaw’s the Beast of the Bay?” Now Hawks definitely thinks I’m grasping at straws. “The MO’s are completely different.”

“It’s Shaw,” I insist. “I’m telling you.”

Hawks sighs, pushing back his chair and standing up like his back hurts. He presses the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, then dons his glasses once more.

“Come on,” he says. “Before your boyfriend causes any more trouble.”

He leads me out of the interrogation room, down the warren of hallways that winds through the police station.

Several officers stare at me as we pass. Their expressions are suspicious and unfriendly—angry that Hawks is letting me go.

“About fucking time,” Cole barks, the moment he sees me.

A warm rush of relief washes over me at the sight of him. His tall, stark figure, terrifying under the wrong circumstances, seems incredibly reassuring when deployed on my behalf. It’s clear he’s been terrorizing the officers, raising hell until they let me out.

The balls on him to stride into a police station and start barking orders. I guess that’s what it’s like being rich and privileged: you never feel nervous, even when you’re guilty as sin.

I hurry over to Cole, letting him envelop me with his arm around my shoulders, shielding me from the glares of a dozen cops.

“Did they do anything to you?” he growls. “Did they hurt you? Harass you?”

“No,” I say. “Officer Hawks was perfectly polite.”

That only seems to harden Cole’s animosity. He pulls me tight against his side, glowering at Hawks.

“If you want to speak with her again, you can call my lawyer,” he says, flicking a business card disdainfully across the information desk.

Hawks watches the card land, but makes no move to pick it up. His cool blue eyes sweep over Cole just as they did to me, taking in every detail, missing nothing.

“I’ll be in touch,” he says.

Cole steers me out of the police station, out onto the street.

I’m shocked to see that it’s fully dark again, the whole day gone while I sat in that windowless room.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Cole demands, spinning me around so I have to look directly into his furious face.

“I had to tell them about Shaw!” I cry. “He killed Erin! He was probably there to kill me. She’s dead and it’s my fault.”

“And what good did it do?” Cole scoffs. “Did you see them leading him away in handcuffs?”

“No,” I admit.

“Of course not! It’s not his first fucking rodeo. Shaw is smart. He knows how to cover his tracks.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” I burst out.

Cole takes hold of my face with both hands. He tilts up my chin, making me look into his eyes.

“You’re going to do exactly what I say.”

I try to shake him off, but he’s too strong. My face burns everywhere his fingers touch the skin. I look into those deep, dark eyes that pin me in place, more powerful than his grip.

“You tried it your way,” Cole says. “Now it’s time to try mine.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re going to move into my house, tonight. I’ll send someone to pick up your things. You’re going to stay with me, right by my side, every fucking minute of the day so I can keep you safe. And when it’s time to deal with Shaw . . . that’ll be my way, too.”

“You want me to move in with you? That’s insane.”

“Do you want to stay alive? Or do you want to become Shaw’s next painting?”

“Don’t joke about that,” I snarl. “Don’t talk about Erin that way.”

“It’s no fucking joke. And it’s no game. You pull another one of your stunts running off without me, and Shaw will gut you like a fish. I’m the only one who can protect you. Unless you want to take a chance on Officer Hawks,” Cole sneers.

I take a deep breath, considering my options.

They’re few in number, and unattractive to me.

What am I supposed to do, go home to the Victorian, avoid Joanna, sleep in the room where Erin was killed? Hope Shaw waits a few days before he comes back to finish the job?

On the other hand . . .

I saw Cole’s face when he strapped me down to that table. When he took control of my body, until I couldn’t think or even breathe, until he wrenched my deepest secrets out of me and I was limp and helpless, begging for more…

We won’t be roommates.

More like teacher and student.

Mentor and protégé.

Sculptor and clay.

The breath comes out in a long sigh, a silvery plume in the cold night, my soul exiting my body.

Cole stands still, waiting for me to decide.

Clenching my fists at my sides, I say, “I guess I don’t have any choice.”

Cole smiles, his teeth gleaming in the dark.

“Don’t you ever believe that, Mara. This is what gives us power: we always have a choice.”

He holds out his hand to me, palm upward, his long, slim fingers pale in the moonlight.