Page 60 of When the Smoke Clears

“Oh yeah?” His words barely precede me pushing him to sit and straddling him.

“Mmhmm.” The vibration of sound travels through my lips into his neck as I kiss him with an open mouth.

He groans quietly, acutely aware of the rest of the team somewhere in the trees, and grips my ass with a firm hand. “As much as I would love to show you just how much,” he starts to punctuate his words with kisses of his own against my neck, “I don’t think that’s why you’re out here.”

A dismissive grunt is the only response I give him as I press back, placing my hands firmly on his chest. There’s too much love pouring out of him. Even though that’s exactly what we’re discussing, emotions are what I’m trying to avoid. I’d much rather deal in a carnal connection with him at this moment.

“I know what you’re doing.” His voice is low.

I don’t bother hiding it.

“You wanna ride the cowboy? I’m yours. Every fucking day. But you have to make the call, Firecracker. You can’t avoid what’s going on outside this ranch.”

I huff and kiss the corner of his mouth sweetly. “Fine. But I’m not gonna like it.”

He grins before shoving off the ground. “You want me to stick around?”

I shake my head. “No. I’ll be a good girl and call.”

I throw myself back onto the grass and wait until the rustle from Sutton and Johnny Walker leaving has ceased before calling Detective Porter back. He’s left his direct number and picks up on the second ring.

“Detective Porter.” His greeting is just as blasé as the rest of him.

“Detective Porter, this is Maci McCullough.”

“Yes. Thank you for calling.”

I throw an arm over my face, blocking out the clouds.Like I have a choice.

He continues. “I have a few follow-up questions. I don’t need you to come to the station yet, but I did want to touch base with you.”

My muscles tense. I’m regretting the choice not to hire an attorney again. Maybe Hank has some options.

“After we last spoke, I spoke with Colt’s father.” He pauses as if I’m going to respond in a specific way.

Instead, I close my eyes, willing my body to relax into the cool grass and ignore the fury coursing through my veins.

“He had a different take on things and shared an older incident with us. Said you pulled a knife on him.”

My emotions battle amongst themselves, trying to see if rage or defeat is going to come out on top. I can’t believe after everything that he’s done, everything I’ve done to distance myself from him and his abusive tendencies, this may be the story that does me in.

“Do you have anything to say about that?”

Exhaling heavily, I nod to no one, my hair tangling in the grass. “Sure. I’ll explain.”

Detective Porter’s pen clicks.

“Alan made a point to remove any autonomy from me that he could. As a teenager, he constantly made remarks about my clothing, hobbies, dates. Looking back, he was highly inappropriate, but at the time I thought he was just being an asshole.”

“Uh uh.” He doesn’t sound convinced, but I’m not done.

“He and my mother were both dismissive about anything emotional, not that I came to them with much. He always wanted gratitude where it wasn’t warranted. Wanted congratulations when he hadn’t earned it. Everything was about image.” I jump off the ground, pacing. “The night he’s referring to was not long after I turned eighteen, as you said. In fact, I had about three weeks of high school left until graduation.”

“He said it was summer.”

“I’m not going to argue the seasons with him. It was the last week of April.”

“Do you remember the date?” he presses.

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