Page 50 of The Devil's Embrace

Not deep enough. Not nearly.

Cal wondered…would Aodhan think it was too far if he asked him to do it again, only deeper this time? Would that be enough to push the doctor away and make him call Calix a freak?

With an internal grimace, he realized he was already starting to lose faith in the doctor and that night. If he wasn’t careful, he’d lose his grasp on this newfound confidence and string of self-acceptance before it was able to fully set in. Years of trying to stay under the radar and keep his head down had clearly affected him if, in the span of ten minutes, he could go from confident to doubtful.

“Look, the reason I asked to see you specifically is because you’ll understand where I’m coming from,” Heathe said, dragging Cal out of his tumultuous thoughts.

He frowned. “How so?”

“Because you’ve been here before. You know what it’s like to be accused of something you didn’t do.”

“But you did do it.” Calix shut the screen down. “You did kill her, Heathe.”

“Yeah, and you crippled Nero,” he snapped, “but it was an accident!”

“Was it?” He held his gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching upward when Heathe instantly quieted. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. That’s not what you said the night of the reunion either.” It was on the tip of his tongue to mention what’d been done to him, but this interview was being monitored and recorded.

“That?” Heathe made a face like he couldn’t believe that was being brought up. “So I drugged you and had a little fun, so what? My best friend is Nero’s older cousin. He found out you were going to be there and couldn’t make it, so asked me for a favor.”

So it really hadn’t been Nero? Huh.

“What’s the big deal?” Heathe asked, sounding like he really didn’t understand and found this whole thing tedious. “You work for the I.P.F., you see worse shit than what I did to you every day.”

“Yeah,” he drawled, hand fisting on the table as he struggled to keep his composure, “like assholes bludgeoning their girlfriends to death.”

“All I did was knock you out and—” Heathe went oddly silent for a moment, a far-off look entering his eyes a moment before all hell broke loose.

Calix jolted back from the table when the other man suddenly lunged for him. The cuffs kept him locked into place, but Heathe practically leapt out of his chair, tugging on his arms as though the metal digging into his wrists didn’t hurt.

“Asshole! You’re a psycho! I know what you did!” Heathe screamed, completely unhinged, his anger only seeming to grow with each passing second. “Yeah, I killed her, so what?! You’re worse than I am! At least I admitted it! At least I confessed! You—”

The door slammed open, and Bruce pulled Cal out, two cops rushing in once they’d cleared the way.

“Are you okay? Good Light!” Bruce moved them partially down the hall to where the adjoined room was located. He’d left the door there open when he’d rushed to save Calix, and the other occupants could be spotted within.

Calix frowned before he could help it. “What are you doing here, Director?”

Titus was standing by the counter, clearly having been watching the scene through the two-way mirror. Which meant he’d just witnessed all of that. Had heard…

It didn’t matter. The guy was eerily attractive but made Cal uncomfortable as all hell.

“I’ve got to take care of this,” Bruce excused himself and went after the cops as they dragged Heathe back to his cell.

“I remembered something and decided to stop by on my way to the hospital,” Titus answered his question and stepped out of the room, slowly closing the door behind him so the officers within couldn’t overhear. “Is there somewhere we could go to speak more privately?”

“If it’s about the case, it’s all right to talk about it here,” Cal replied.

Titus tipped his head. He wasn’t wearing his glasses today, those bright green eyes of his seemingly peering directly into Cal’s soul. It was off-putting, to say the least.

“You don’t like me very much, do you, Detective?” the director asked.

“That’s not true,” he played it off.

“Are you sure? I get the feeling you’re uncomfortable being alone with me.” Titus slipped his hands into the front pockets of his black dress pants. “Is it because I was a part of the medical staff six years ago?”

“I…” He cleared his throat and shook his head with a little more force than necessary. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m not the one being ridiculous here,” his tone took on an almost scolding edge that had Calix’s spine instantly stiffening. “I’m telling you I have information, and you’re allowing personal feelings to influence your judgment in regards to this case.”

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