Megan twisted around and reached for Cody on the floor, who seized the moment and punched Ivan one, two, three times, then broke into a run. She was about to follow when a bloodied Ivan caught her hand and pulled her back with a growl of displeasure. She was about to hit him again when he snarled, “Don’t … Even … Think it!”
She blinked, registering the glimmering blue eyes that flashed pure anger at her. Long-lashed blue eyes. Cody’s blue eyes. Cody’s … wet chest?
“THAT SICK FUCK WITH THE TIE”—he gritted through his teeth as he tried to stand, still bent over from the pain—“WAS NOT”—he put both his hands on his knees, dragging in hard breaths—“ME.”
FIVE
Megan wasn’t talking.
Her throat was clogged with emotion and she doubted she could take any more of this crap for much longer. When Cody had grabbed her stuff back at the hotel, haphazardly put on a suit, but not a tie, and informed her that they were going to Zach’s house, she didn’t protest.
When they arrived and a fussy Paige brought towels and clean sheets for the guest bedroom, Megan didn’t offer anything.
And when Zach came in and discussed what had happened with Cody, Megan only sat there and listened, still dazed about it all.
Nordstrom and Zach just had to be the best-looking pair of homicide detectives the force had ever seen. Paired with a group of men that were neither tall, nor short, nor fat, nor slender, the tall, athletic hunks were definitely a standout.
But Cody … how could she have mistaken him for his twin? The man she loved—of whom she should know every mark, every flaw. And she didn’t. Her mind was already screwed up.
She wanted him so much she had wanted to believe that it was him, kissing her.
“Here,” Paige whispered, handing her a cup of tea.
Megan took a slow sip and nodded her thanks. They sat in the living room of her friend’s spacious apartment, a warehouse loft that Zach had made into his home and Paige had comfortably moved right into when he proposed.
Megan had met her only a couple of years ago, but had felt like Paige was one of the best friends she’d ever had. She seemed to read right into her.
“Want to talk about it?” her friend asked softly.
She shook her head. Cody wouldn’t look at her. He hadn’t said a word to her. Meg couldn’t bring herself to look at him, either. She felt so dirty, so ashamed.
“So I guess the plan wasn’t a big hit, huh?” Paige tried, sad-eyed.
Meg shrugged, because she figured she had to respond to that and didn’t feel like talking much.
“Who knows,” Paige reached out and patted her knee, “maybe you’ll get lucky tonight sharing a room?”
“His brother kissed me” Meg blurted.
Paige blinked, and Meg set the teacup on the coffee table and rose, ready to head for the bedroom even though she doubted she’d catch much sleep.
“I can get the murderer to kiss me but not the cop.”
* * *
The disgusting image of Ivan and Meg kissing was permanently embedded in Cody’s brain.
Megan in his brother’s arms, Megan moaning as she kissed him.
If Ivan had wanted payback for his years doing time at the Maricopa County Jail, then he’d succeeded. Cody was insanely, inhumanly jealous. He’d wanted not only to kill, but to die.
After updating Zach on the recent events, Cody made his way to the guest bedroom, the last door down the hall, where Megan had disappeared only moments ago.
He didn’t know what he’d say to her, or do. Fact was, he planned to sit there and do nothing.
Nothing but keep his brother away from her until Cody managed to get his hands on the bastard tomorrow.
The door stood slightly ajar. Uncertain if she was asleep, he parted it wider and saw that the lamps were on, and a pool of light illuminated the snowy white bedsheets.