Page 87 of All the Missing Pieces

Colt’s eyes flashed as his thumb stroked my collarbone. “Been checked too.”

“Good. That’s the physical safety. No sleeping in the same bed.”

Colt’s expression went guarded. “No catching feelings that way.”

“No starting to think this is something it’s not.”

He nodded in agreement.

“No hooking up with anyone else while this is going on,” I said, trying to keep my voice even despite the fact that the idea of Colt with another woman made me nauseous. “Either of us have interest in someone else, we end this.”

Those deep-brown eyes darkened to black. “That enough rules?”

I swallowed hard. “I think so.”

“Good.” Then he lunged, hauling me over his shoulder and striding down the hall.

“Colt,” I squealed.

He slapped my ass, the sound reverberating against the walls. “I’m just damn glad you didn’t make any rules about the shower.”

35

COLT

I couldn’t stop staringat her. Or touching her. Or just breathing her in. That burnt-orange scent was everywhere now. The air in the dining-room-turned-office. The sheets as I went to sleep every night—alone. Singed into my goddamned skin.

“What are you scowling at?” Ridley asked, cutting into my spiraling thoughts.

I leaned back in my chair, trying to force nonchalance. “Nothing. We’ve just been over these case files a dozen times. I don’t think it’s going to bring anything new.”

Ridley unwound her legs from a pretzel-like position. Today she wore jean shorts and a flowy sleeveless blouse with tiny flowers all over it. Her hair hung in loose waves around her, the color a little blonder than normal. Maybe because she’d worked most of the day outside yesterday. Torturing me in another of those damned tank tops as she lay on a towel reading the latest police report I’d gotten.

Her gaze roamed over me, a silent check-in. “You need to take a run?”

My scowl only deepened.

Ridley held up both hands in surrender. “Sorry. Geez.”

I was the one who should’ve been sorry. But it annoyed me that she knew me so well. Knew that after hours at this table, I needed to move, to get the pain and death out of my system.

I twisted my head, making my neck crack. “It’s not you.” Only it was—it was everything about her.

“Will you come look at this tape for me?” Ridley asked.

Hell.

I didn’t need to be closer. Didn’t need to smell that tempting scent. Feel the heat that always came off her in waves. Be close enough to touch that skin.

But I went. Because not going would be admitting just how weak I was when it came to Ridley Sawyer Bennett.

I stood and moved behind her chair, locking my fingers around the back of it so I wouldn’t be tempted to tangle them in those blond strands; then I turned my eyes to the laptop screen. A brand-new one, since I hadn’t been able to recover her old one, hadn’t been able to find the asshole who had hurt her.

That fact only stirred my annoyance further. It felt like everything surrounding me was a series of failures these days. I focused on the screen, the image there, trying to shove out every other thought. It was a video I’d seen before. Coach Kerr standing at a gas pump, filling up his SUV.

The footage was a little grainy, but you could see him clear as day. Those polo shirts he always wore. The ball cap pulled down low withWimbledonstitched across the back. His license plate on display, confirming the vehicle’s identity. The time stamp read 8:13. It was about as good as you could get in terms of an alibi.

Because during that time, Emerson was unconscious in the back of a truck. On her way to be hurt in some of the worst ways imaginable. My fingers tightened on the chair, and I closed my eyes for a moment.

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