“Why would he kill Bella Hope? Why would Cavendish twist you up in his sickness? Why did you wake up one day and find a letter on your porch?” he asked. “You say you don’t know what started this, what if that’s because it didn’t begin with you? It began with her.”
“But— But Cavendish had nothing to do with AgriProspects.”
“Do you know that? He was an accountant and they were going bankrupt.”
Holy shit. Yes, Cairo definitely got my attention. I lurched across the dash, gripping his arm.
“No one gained from her death,” I said. “The company didn’t get the farm. They didn’t have the money to buy it in the end. I’ve been asking myself for two years why they ruined our lives to get a farm they were forced to abandon.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t make any sense. Something obviously went wrong with the plan.”
I looked back at the station. “Cairo, are we pretending your father isn’t the one to ask? It’s as simple as making him expose who put him up to it.” My grip on him tightened. “And are you pretending that I’m not thinking of your father passing the orders off on his son? Was this an order he got from the person on the other end of your phone? One that he couldn’t pass off to you because it’s a sheriff who buries evidence?”
“No,” Cairo said clearly. “She’s not behind this.”
She?
“You can take the situation we’re in as proof. The very last thing she wants is a single piece of Bedlam in the hands of an outside company.”
I accepted that—for now. “You said you’re committed to helping me find out the truth?”
“I am.”
I eyed him. “Is this for me, or for Jack?”
He smiled. “Want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen what you’ll do when backed into a corner. If you lose all hope of getting her justice and exposing my father, I suspect you’ll kill him, Rain.”
The day I drove to his house came into sharp clarity.
Cairo’s words reached me from far away. “If you try, I’ll have to stop you, then you’ll consider if this love goes both ways, and if it’s stronger than your love for Abigail de Souza.” Cairo lifted his shirt, revealing the tattoo in its intricate glory. “A wolf doesn’t choose a bunny for its mate, and a man doesn’t choose between his girl and his blood.
“I can’t let you kill my father, Rain.”
My voice was a low rasp. “I never said I would.”
“You’re not saying you won’t.”
I fell quiet.
Cairo trailed his fingers down my cheek, tipping my chin. “We’re going to find out what really happened, baby, then you’ll unleash that rage on the people who’ve earned it.” He kissed me. “Agreed?”
My answer came slow, but it came.
“Agreed.”
Cairo started the car. We drove out of the parking lot, watching the station grow small in the rearview.
It was Cairo’s turn to wonder what I was thinking as I rested my head on the glass, eyes glazed on Bedlam going past. My thoughts should’ve been easy to guess.
I was thinking of the Letter Man, and how long he lurked out of sight.
Chapter Three
Legend flipped me over, smooshing me in the pillows. A move like that would break any kiss, but not the rolling-on-the-sheets, tearing-off-our-clothes, moaning make-out session we found ourselves in.
His tongue tangled with mine, as entrenched as his fingers woven in my hair. Our nightly blow job session ended with him saying I was “improving.” I told him he was hooked on my tongue, and I’d start getting choosy if he didn’t show some appreciation.
It’d been a stressful day and I was riding the agitation of being arrested, electrocuted, and interrogated by the person I hated as much as the Letter Man.
Legend said if my tongue was commanding respect, he’d have to see what else it could do. I wasn’t sure who moved first. Next thing I knew, his palm was attached to my ass as he ground between my legs.
“Oh, Legend,” I moaned. “Bet you love having a name like that during times like these.”
His laugh rumbled his chest. “It was a prophecy, love, that I more than lived up to.”
My hands were everywhere. Gliding down his chest, stroking him through the lining, scraping my nails along his back, bringing him down to me. All chatter ceased as his lips became mine again.
It amazed me how their personalities came through in their kiss. Legend was hidden passions and dual personas. He both kissed me sweet and thorough and rutted against my middle to produce a friction that was undoing me. It was not possible that I was about to come from that alone. But if Legend wished it so, I would.
He broke away, drawing a whine from me. “For heaven’s sake, can we drop the Torture Rainey game for another five minutes?”
“I doubt you’re going to find this torture.”