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Her mind was reeling, remembering the intensity of Hayes, the way he’d looked at her, the way her body had responded. The edge of danger that had tripped her alarm bells. She swallowed past the dryness in her throat. “What was he in for? White-collar crime or something?”

Andre’s jaw flexed. “Aggravated rape.”

Her stomach plummeted and her skin went cold. “Shit.”

“I know. But listen. I know the guy, knew him before he went in, and he didn’t do what they said he did. He wouldn’t have. The conviction was overturned. That’s why he’s out.”

But she could barely hear him. “Rape.”

“Hey,” Andre said, trying to catch her eye. “Listen to me. You know I wouldn’t give you the thumbs-up to go work for the guy if I thought there was even a glimmer of a chance he was guilty. But I promise you, your mother will absolutely not feel the same way. She helped put him behind bars. When he got out, she went on a rant about how he bought his way out of his conviction. So she will flip her shit if she knows you’re anywhere near him.”

Cora lifted up her glasses and rubbed the spot between her eyes, a headache hatching. “How do you know, Medina? What if he’s a good liar? You see it all the time with sociopaths. They can trick their best friend, their wife, you name it. I don’t want to be working with a rapist. No money is worth that.”

Andre sat back in his chair. “It’s absolutely your call. I’m just telling you that I one hundred percent know that he didn’t do what he was accused of. That’s all I can give you. The rest is his personal business.”

She opened her eyes and put her glasses back in place, the news pressing down on her like sacks of grain. On one hand, she trusted Andre’s word. The guy wouldn’t tell her this unless he really believed it. He was as protective of women as they come. But she’d also grown up with a cop mother. People could be world-class liars. People who you’d never ever suspect were bad could do horrible things. The only people who could truly know if Hayes was guilty wer

e Hayes and the woman he’d been with. And Andre wasn’t one of those two. But innocent people had also gone to jail for crimes they didn’t commit.

She felt sick to her stomach. She’d spent so much of her life avoiding danger, being on the lookout, learning how to be safe. That part of her said to bail, to not take the risk. Better safe than dead. That was the motto her mother had taught her. She could find another job. But at the same time, she was so damn tired of being on guard all the time, of looking for malicious intent whether she had reason to or not. She’d done everything she was supposed to and still somehow got attacked on her porch. Safety was never a one hundred percent guarantee no matter what you did. She wanted to be smart, but she didn’t want to live a paranoid life. Hayes had made her nervous, but he hadn’t scared her. She’d been drawn to him, not repelled.

If she was supposed to trust her gut, her gut wasn’t saying run.

She didn’t want to run.

But she would have to be on full alert. She wasn’t going to walk away from this job based on unproven information. She could handle herself and would make sure she was always in a safe situation—co-workers around, not working late, not being alone with him. And if Hayes showed any bad sign or made her uncomfortable in any way, she was out of there. But for now, she was going to trust her gut and Andre’s word.

“Thanks for letting me know,” she said finally. “There’s no need to tell my mother anything at this point anyway. It’s just a job.”

Andre nodded and rubbed a hand over the back of his dark hair. “Okay, well, I’m going to get my paperwork out of the way and then go home. I think I forgot to sleep yesterday.”

She shook her head. “You should ask one of the officers to drive you home.”

He stood and stretched. “Nah. I have a toddler who thinks two A.M is an awesome time for chats. I’m used to existing on no sleep. But if I hit the point of no return, I’ll call Evan or Jace to come pick me up. That’s why I married them both. I always have a designated driver.”

Cora smiled. “Good thinking.”

“Right? I’m a genius.” Andre gave her a mock salute and headed out. “Later, Junior.”

“See ya.” Cora watched him go, shaking her head.

Andre had a unique relationship—a husband and a wife—and all three parented their little girl, Lucy. When Andre had “come out” with that information at work, it had caused quite the gossip wave. How does that work? Does that mean Medina’s sleeping with the guy, too? Whose kid is it? Everyone seemed to have a question or an opinion on the matter. That will never last. You don’t get to have cake and eat it, too. That child is going to be so confused. But Cora had kept her thoughts to herself, all the while thinking, He gets two people who love him so much they want to be with him forever. How amazing must that feel?

Cora rolled her neck and resisted Googling Hayes on her phone. It was probably best she didn’t know details right now. She just needed to get to FoxRen today, lock herself in an office, and tear apart their system until she found what she needed to take down the motherfucker who’d gotten her attacked.

Cora spun in her chair and closed the laptop she’d been working on. She didn’t notice she wasn’t alone anymore until the faint scent of her mother’s perfume hit her. Her mother had worn the same scent since Cora was a kid. Just because I’m a cop doesn’t mean I can’t smell good. The jasmine-and-vanilla combo was comforting to Cora in a lot of ways. When she was young, it meant her mom was home from work and safe. Janet Benning had won for another night. But right now, Cora assumed it wasn’t a harbinger of good news.

“So when were you going to tell me?” The words hit her in the back like tiny, sharp needles.

Cora closed her eyes, took a breath, and swiveled her chair around. “Hi, Mom.”

Her mom wasn’t in uniform today, but managed to look official anyway in her simple white blouse and pressed gray pants, her badge on her hip. Her dark bottle-red hair was pulled back into a stylish knot. She only had a touch of makeup on but somehow looked at least ten years younger than her fifty-two years. Effortlessly pretty as always. The frown lines on her face gave some of that effect away, though. “Coraline.”

She groaned. No matter what, her mom always made her feel twelve years old again. “It wasn’t a big deal. The guy ran off. I didn’t get hurt.”

“Do you know what it does to me to hear something like this from one of my officers instead of my own daughter? This happened last Thursday and you didn’t bother to tell me? You could’ve been hurt or raped or worse. What were you doing out that late? And why didn’t you have your Taser ready?”

“So we’re blaming the victim now?”


Tags: Roni Loren Loving on the Edge Erotic