Page 31 of Blood & Kisses

Blake shrugs nonchalantly. “Home invasion.”

“But, the police might find DNA or something else to incriminate you,” I argue, as my chest tightens from the stress.

Blake seems amused. “I’ve been in this field of business for a while, babe,” he answers charmingly. “As I said before, we’ve got it covered. You seem to have forgotten that Gabe is a detective in our splendid police force.”

“I haven’t forgotten. And is that sarcasm?” I brush his comment aside as the man himself enters carrying a platter of roast chicken surrounded by roast potatoes and yams.

“Well, look at that,” Blake croons. “I haven’t seen a bird like that in so long.”

“It looks wonderful,” I drool, realizing how hungry I am. “Holy cow, that crispy skin looks so good.”

“I’ll carve,” Gabe suggests smoothly, “I don’t trust you three with a knife.”

Was that a joke? It’s hard to tell because he’s so level, and I’ve heard him raise his voice because he commands attention just by being in the room. He doesn’t need to speak.

His large, strong hand grips the knife and slices that bird like butter while I sip my wine as if it were orange juice, and it’s going straight to my head.

After slicing several bits, pulling off legs, and placing them on our plates, his hand finds my empty wine glass and removes it. “No more for you,” he proclaims smoothly, holding his for only a few seconds before sitting down. “We need you level-headed.”

“For this mysterious meeting?” I ask, hoping he’ll give me a hint as to what it’s about.

“Yes,” he answers, reaching across the table for the roast potatoes and offering me two. There’s a moment of intensity when our eyes meet again, and nerves curl about my body until he looks away and focuses on his son sitting opposite him. “Need carbs for training?”

“Plenty,” Cormac replies, reaching across the table for the potatoes and a dish of peas, carrots, and corn on the cob. “My time has been lagging lately.”

Gabe pauses in concern. “Why?”

Cormac snorts. “All the drama that’s been going on with Lyons,” he replies. “A two IC coaches have stepped onto the top spot, and even though she’s good, she’s yet to find someone to take her place. She’s also training some of the lower-ranking teams.”

“Oh,” I sigh in guilt, feeling it’s my fault.

Cormac adds to make me feel better, “Not many in the team care that much about Lyons being gone; we just need more hands on deck, so to speak.”

“So, I haven’t ruined everything for you by removing Lyons from the team,” I ask heavy-heartedly.

“It’s been more of an inconvenience to most people rather than a drastic loss,” he explains, pouring gravy over his moist chicken leg while digging my fork into a roasted sweet potato, glancing at Gabe for a reaction to our conversation, but his expression is blank and unreadable.

“So…” I address Gabe, “it can’t be good for you having you know…me…us under your roof,” I tread carefully because I’m unsure how much he knows.

He licks those lips, sips his beer, and swallows before answering, “I’m unsure what you mean.”

My cheeks burn as I look to Blake for help. Maybe he doesn’t know. Perhaps this is all a dream, and I’ll wake tomorrow in my bed in the tiny apartment, disappointed to find out that Lyons is still alive and I have to kill him all over again. Don’t even go there.

“She means, you know,” Cormac says while chewing, “she’s a little killer, and you’re in the Torres Police Department.” Cormac looks at me for input. “Isn’t that what you mean?”

“Your reputation,” I clarify, “as a detective will-”

“My reputation is the last thing I need to worry about. If I’m harboring proven murderers, then I’d be arrested and likely imprisoned, so…”

“Oh my god,” I gasp, guilt stirring, making me feel terrible. “Should I leave?”

“We’ve already discussed this,” Gabe replies in a steely voice, the tone saying more than the words. “You’ll stay until it’s safe.”

I hesitate a moment to think this over. Gabe knows precisely what he’s doing, and I’m sure the choice to keep me under his roof is rational. Just because I can’t see the rationale behind it, it doesn’t mean he can’t. He has significant experience in life and career, so I shouldn’t second-guess him. “Okay,” I nod. Blake shoots me a dimpled smile while Cormac’s gaze is steady as he devours the food on his plate.

Silence falls as Gabe sips his beer and cuts chicken off the bone. “The keyword is ‘proven’,” he adds. They have to prove that you did the crime, and right now…the investigating officers are a million miles away from you, both in evidence and hunches.”

“Do you know this for sure?” I ask as my stomach starts to settle from the stress of the conversation, so I continue to eat.

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