He killed that little bit of defiance soon enough. "Your boyfriend is finally being charged for that murder. A warrant's been issued and some officers are planning to pick him up at football practice."
I felt ill. Literally. I thought I might throw up. I'd been so sure he was in the clear, that it was completely behind us, and now this . . . "Why are you telling me this?" I asked Harris carefully. His motives, as usual, were baffling to me.
"I think you can help him. Come into the station. Give a new statement. We can go over every word that creep said to you. You remember all of those unsolved, violent rape cases in the county, the disappearances? I think your attacker was our guy. Help me fill in some blanks. The more dangerous that bum looks, the more innocent your boyfriend will be."
I was wringing my hands, looking at him uncertainly. I really didn't want to go anywhere with Harris, but I wanted to help Dante more. I felt myself caving.
"I know it's a pain the ass," Harris said with a friendly smile, "but it won't take long, and it might make all of the difference. At least you get to ditch school for it."
I agreed to go to the station with him.
On the way out of school, we saw only one person as we walked through the halls to the exit.
Tiffany was at her locker, fishing something out. She stopped and watched us as we passed her.
Harris was walking just in front of me, but I slowed and let him get farther ahead as we came even with her.
"If you see Dante, will you tell him that Harris took me out of school? Tell him I need to talk to him as soon as possible." I said the words in a quick jumble, not wanting Harris to hear.
Tiffany nodded solemnly, looking back and forth between my earnest face and Harris's retreating back. "Will do," she said. She looked sincere.
It was the most civil exchange we ever had. And the most damaging.
I hurried to catch up to Harris before he realized I'd stopped to talk.
I didn't trust him, but apparently, I trusted him too much.
In my defense, I did not think he would do or could do what he did in broad daylight.
But I did get into his car without a fight.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FOUR
"I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along."
~Rumi
PRESENT
SCARLETT
I woke up feeling rested and almost . . . peaceful. Crying yourself to sleep apparently made for a good night's rest.
It didn't hurt that my head was pillowed tenderly against a familiar chest. That I could hear the deep, throbbing beat of Dante's heart. It was so comforting that I had myself half convinced I was still sleeping.
It was one thing to wake up with him, another to be comforted by it.
What strange new world was this?
I couldn't believe he was real, that this was. That after all of the war we could have a moment of real peace.
Or that we were looking at trying to carve out some kind of a future together.
But was this even that? Or was this just another temporary reprieve?
I didn't know and I didn't want to think about it. Instead, I allowed myself a moment, a few, a dozen, a hundred, to revel in the arms of the only man who would ever own my heart.
His bare torso was warm, firm, and very real, but I ran my hands over him like he might disappear.
I could touch him now, and not as a way to hurt or wound. My hand on his chest spoke of the ownership I had been denying myself for five rough years.
Five hopeless years. Five hateful years. Five lost years.
"Morning, angel." His voice came out of his chest in a touchable rumble that spoke of deep affection. He kissed the top of my head, his familiar hand stroking over my hair.
I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy it, letting myself acknowledge just how much I needed it.
This would take some getting used to. I was still afraid to even hope I might get the chance.
"Mm," I mumbled into his chest. It didn't mean anything, just a general sound of contentment.
He shifted me onto my back, propping up on one elbow close to my side.
I touched his face. Part of my mind was still in that fuzzy place between sleep and full cognizance. "Are you real?" I whispered it like I was afraid someone else might hear the silly question.
He grinned, shifting closer. His free hand grabbed one of mine, bringing it to his lips. He placed a soft, open-mouthed kiss on my palm. His eyes smiled as he dragged the hand down, cupping it over his very happy morning erection. "Is that real enough for you?"
I glared at him.
He threw his head back and laughed.
His laugh was wonderful, touchable. I set my hand to his throat just to feel closer to it.
His laughing eyes came back to mine, and his face sobered in one quick fall. He touched my cheek. "Jesus. That look. What are you trying to do to me here?"
I let my eyes answer that question. With a groan, he leaned down and kissed me. It was a tentative contact at first, his talented lips feeling at mine with utmost care, his own way of validating that I was real.
It was almost sweet and finished too quickly.