Kissing the Killer: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Barone Crime Family) (33 page)

I
couldn’t believe
I was so fucking stupid.

As we drove back to Laney’s house in silence, I kept going over and over in my mind all of the idiotic mistakes I kept making, over and over again.

Mistakes that distracted me. Mistakes that kept me from hunting down this murdering fuck and bringing him to justice.

Sure, I wasn’t in the FBI anymore. I wasn’t in law enforcement. But whoever was doing this was clearly somehow targeting me, somehow sending me a message. In a lot of ways, it was all my fault that these women were getting killed. Plus, I was closest to the case, knew the most about it. The sheriff had even directly asked for my help, which only proved that they were out of their league. I was the reason, the catalyst for everything, and people were being yanked into something they never wanted to be a part of because of me.

Especially Luisa Suarez.

While the poor girl was getting strangled to death, I was probably too busy fucking my distracting stepsister in my car. I was thinking with my cock and not with my head, and someone had lost their life because of it.

Would I have caught the guy before Luisa had died? Probably not. But maybe I could have been better informed, more engaged, and maybe I could have changed something. Maybe Mrs. Suarez would have reached out to me sooner if I were more interested in her. Maybe I could stop the next killing, at least.

But I needed to get my head out of my ass. Actually, I needed to get my mind off Laney’s fucking pussy.

Because her cunt was distracting. Hell, her lips and teeth and eyes were distracting. The way she smiled at me uncertainly as I made some dirty comment was distracting. The tilt of her head, the wave in her hair, the way she dressed and spoke. Everything about her made me want to fall deep into the black hole that was her body and never fucking come back out. I wanted to hear her speak and moan and the soft slap of my skin against hers.

I needed to give her up.

As much as it hurt to think about, I needed to concentrate entirely on the case, to give myself up fully to it again. Otherwise nothing was going to happen, and this sick bastard was going to keep on killing over and over.

We pulled up outside the house and I parked. I killed the engine and sat there, stewing in my thoughts.

“Easton?” Laney said softly. “Are you okay?”

I glanced at her. “Fine.” I opened the door and climbed out.

She followed. “Did you tell our parents that you’re staying here?”

I nodded. “They know.”

“Okay.” She bit her lip. “It’s going to work out, you know. We’ll figure it out.”

I whirled on her. I felt so much anger bubbling inside me, and even though I knew none of it was her fault, I couldn’t help but let my own self-loathing rise up to the surface.

“There’s no ‘we’ here, Laney,” I said. “The office is closed. We’re just stepsiblings now.” I paused, letting that sink in. “And it’s already not okay.”

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, and the hurt I saw there mirrored my own hurt. I only hated myself even more for saying it, but it was for the best. She needed to put distance between the two of us or else risk getting sucked into my whirlpool of fucked up shit.

“I can still help you,” she said. “I know we’re not really working together anymore.”

“No,” I said, grabbing my duffel. “It’s over. Go back to doing whatever it is you did before you met me.”

The hurt in her face quickly shifted to anger. “I don’t get it. You said you wanted my help.”

“You don’t need to get it, Laney.”

“Fine. If you want to be a prick, be a prick.” She held out the Seed case file. “Take your precious file.”

I took it, looking at her grimly. “Just forget about everything. You’ll be better off.”

“You don’t know as much as you think you do, Easton.”

“Maybe not.”

I turned and walked off into the house without another word.

I didn’t look back. I knew that if I did, she’d see the pain in my eyes, see how badly it hurt me to walk away from her, to try to push her away.

And she’d also see the rage. The killer rage, the desire to tear apart the world.

I wasn’t sure which was more terrifying.

I
woke
up early the next day, Easton’s words ringing in my ears.

I wasn’t surprised that he was being a dick. Honestly, I half expected it. He was normally such a cocky person that I was wondering when he’d decide to lash out or something like that.

It wasn’t so much his words that bothered me. Rather, it was the look in his eyes, like he was haunted, haggard, angry, and above all, afraid.

He wanted to handle everything himself. He didn’t want help because he thought he could make everything happen completely alone. And maybe that was true. Easton was an incredible person, both inside and out. He had a sharp mind and was about as physically fit as a person could be.

But I got the feeling that he was too wrapped up in his case. I wanted to help, wanted to be a part of it, but I was afraid he was going to push me away.

I rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom, brushing my teeth and doing my usual morning routine.

I hated that he said we were finished, that we were just stepsiblings again. I thought we were something more than just coworkers and stepsiblings, but maybe I was wrong. Maybe I had misread him. Maybe in the end, all he cared about were his cases and himself.

Frustrated, I went downstairs and into the kitchen. Susan was sitting at the table, which surprised me. She was rarely at home, always so busy with her job and her city council seat.

“Good morning, Laney,” she said.

“Morning.” I poured myself a cup of coffee and leaned against the counter. “You’re not normally home around now.”

She smiled. “I’ve been working too hard. Decided to take the morning off.”

“Lucky you.” I paused, sipping my coffee. “You know Easton is staying here now, right?”

“I sure do. I suggested it, actually.”

I cocked my head at her. “Why?”

“Well, you’ve heard about what’s happening.”

“Sure. The murders.”

“Sheriff Sloan thinks Easton can help. And I want to offer as much support to him as possible. I figure he can get more work done here than he can in that little office of his.”

“Maybe,” I muttered. “Or maybe he’s better off alone there.”

Susan laughed. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“You seem a little annoyed.”

I sighed, sitting down across from her. “Your son is a real asshole, that’s all.”

My eyes widened. I couldn’t believe I had just said that, but Susan only laughed harder.

“He is a stubborn boy, that’s for sure. What happened?”

“He closed the office and is finished working with me.”

“Really?” She seemed mildly surprised. “He had said you’ve been a huge asset to him.”

I nodded. “I thought so. We were going over the case together one second, and the next he’s telling me we’re done working together and to just forget it.”

Susan made a small sound and nodded her head thoughtfully. “I can’t say that I’m surprised.”

“You can’t? I sure was.”

“You know,” she said slowly, “when Easton was a little boy, he had this friend named Michael. Mike came from a bad home—parents were drunks, he moved around a lot. For whatever reason, Easton figured all this out.”

“How old was he?”

“Nine or ten.”

“That’s really young to see something like that.”

“I know. He’s always had an incredible read on people, even well beyond his years when he was young.”

“So what did he do?”

“Well,” she said, continuing, “one day he came home and begged me to let Michael sleep over. I said okay, sure. The next night Easton came to me and begged me to let Michael stay over again. I said okay one more time since it wasn’t unusual for kids to stay over twice in a row.”

“I can see where this is going,” I said softly.

Susan smiled. “I knew something was up when he asked the third time. I sat him down and said, ‘Easton, why are you trying to get Michael to stay over so much?’ I’ll never forget what he said.”

I sipped my coffee. “What?”

“He said, ‘Because, Mom, Mike’s house is awful and he doesn’t want to live there anymore. Maybe he won’t say so, but he’s happier here. I thought maybe he could live with us.’”

“Wow.” I was genuinely surprised.

She nodded, smiling fondly at the memory. “I asked him, ‘Where is Mike going to stay?’ He said, ‘My room.’ I asked, ‘What will he eat?’ He said, ‘My food.’ I was completely astounded.”

“So what happened?”

“Mike went home that night, and his mom ended up beating him severely for not telling her where he was. After that, his mom got arrested and his dad got sober.”

I let that story sink in for a second. It did seem like Easton, to some degree. He had been very willing to help Mrs. Suarez, and although he put on a show of being a jaded private eye most of the time, I did get glimpses of someone more generous underneath that exterior.

“Wow,” I said softly. “That must have been hard for a kid to take.”

“It really was. I remember him finally understanding what had happened to Mike, and although he never said it out loud, I could tell that he blamed himself.”

“That wasn’t his fault. He even tried, as best a little kid could at least.”

She smiled sadly. “I know. But you have to understand something about Easton.” She sipped her coffee and looked out across the kitchen. “He wants to help save everyone, and every failure is personal. At a certain point, he learned that it was easier to make very few connections than it was to constantly fail to fix absolutely everything.”

“But how could he make everyone perfect?”

She looked back at me, smiling. “He can’t. He’s stubborn as hell, though. That all has a lot to do with why he and I don’t get along.”

“Why is that?”

She shook her head. “A long, stupid story. We’re both as stubborn as the other one in the end.”

“I understand,” I said, although I wished she would go on.

“Anyway,” she said, sipping her coffee again and stretching, “I think that’s enough about him.”

I wanted to press her. What did that whole story have to do with me and him? Did she think that he was trying to protect me by not letting me get involved with his investigation? I wanted to know so much more, to get her perspective on him when he was a little kid, but I knew more questions would seem suspicious.

After all, he and I were just stepsiblings.

“Thanks for telling me that,” I said. “Makes me feel a little better, I think.”

“Don’t worry, hun. He’ll come around eventually.” She paused and laughed softly. “Or he won’t. You never know.”

I sipped my coffee. “I think I’m going to head upstairs and get myself together.”

“Sounds good.”

I smiled and left the kitchen. I needed to get out of there before my curiosity got the best of me.

Maybe her story had raised more questions than answers, but I was totally sure about one thing: Easton was trying to push me away because he thought it was best for me. But he wasn’t allowed to choose what was best for me.

I stopped outside his door. It was open a bit, so I softly nudged it open.

The room was empty.

I walked inside quickly, not overthinking it. I did a quick scan of the room and spotted what I was looking for: the case file. I grabbed it from the side table and quickly brought it into my room.

Once inside, I sat down on my floor and spread the file out in front of me.

There was so much stuff. Police reports, crime scene photos, handwritten notes, and more. It all stretched far back in time, back to the original murder that had opened the file. Easton’s contributions were significant, but they were only a small part of what was in there.

I didn’t know what Easton was thinking or what he wanted. Part of me didn’t care. If he wanted to be stubborn, then fine. But he couldn’t control my actions, and I was going to help him catch this murderer.

He wasn’t the only person that had met Mrs. Suarez. I had been inside her house; I knew her. I felt as responsible for Luisa as he did.

I took another big sip of coffee and dove in head first, starting from the beginning. I had a long morning ahead of me.

I
was covered
in sweat as I started the second set. I stripped off my sopping shirt and tossed it aside, dropping down to my knees to start. I pushed, my arms bulging, working my body hard, past the point of exhaustion.

I’d been neglecting my workouts. Fortunately, Susan’s basement was finished and quiet, and so I was able to escape down there early to get my workout in. There was only a treadmill and some simple weights, but that was fine.

I put the television on the local news and pushed myself. It honed my mind, made me concentrate better. I’d been too busy medicating myself with alcohol to really push it, but it felt good to finally get off my ass.

Plus, working out helped me think.

There were so many possibilities in the case. They all swirled around my mind constantly, flitting this way and that. I wanted to be clear, totally clear, and I needed to be if I was going to figure anything out.

Unfortunately, Laney kept jutting into my mind.

The way she had looked when I’d told her that we weren’t working together anymore kept jabbing me in the chest. I hated that I hurt her, that I had to push her away, but I hoped she’d understand it one day. I hoped she’d understand that at the moment, I was the most dangerous person in all of Mishawaka. Just being around me could mean death.

Maybe I should have run away, moved to a different state, but that wouldn’t have stopped the killings. Frankly, I figured Susan and Alan were both in danger, and Laney would be too. The best thing I could do for them was to solve the case, and solve it fast.

But fucking Laney. Remembering the way she moaned as she slid down my cock just made me rock hard. I finished my set and sat back against the couch, breathing deeply. I could feel my cock begin to stir as everything about that afternoon in the car came back to me.

The way she whispered in my ear. The way she begged for it. Her lips sucking me off. It was impossible not to think about her, not when she drove me so completely fucking crazy.

I clenched my jaw and went back to work. I had nothing to do that day except clear my mind. Later, once I felt like I could finally concentrate on my work, I’d throw myself into the case. First, though, I needed to do my little ritual.

Tire out the body so the mind could take over.

Hours slipped past that way. I would work out, take a short rest to watch the news, and then go back to it. Over and over again.

By the end, the sun had dipped down below the horizon and I was completely exhausted. It felt pretty good to be totally and absolutely wiped.

I stood up and stretched, looking up at the basement window. Shadows stretched across the yard and the sky was a deep, blood red.

“Easton.”

I looked up at the steps. Laney was standing there, looking down at me.

“What can I do for you?”

She bit her lip at my tone. I felt a short stab of regret but shoved it aside. I had to keep my mind right.

“I think I found something.”

I raised my eyebrow. “I thought I told you we weren’t working together anymore.”

“I know what you said,” she snapped, “but I don’t always listen.”

I sighed, sitting down and running a towel over my body. I caught her staring, but I refused to let myself understand what that meant.

“I don’t have time for this, Laney.”

She made a face. “Look, I get it. You’re this big asshole who is going to save everyone. But I think I noticed something important.”

She came down the steps, holding the case file. I stood up, suddenly annoyed. “Did you take that from my room?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“That’s not yours to touch.”

“Too bad.” She sat down on the couch and flipped open the cover. “Look at this.”

She began to take out crime scene pictures. Each photo was of a hand, the fingers missing in the usual way. She spread them all out on the ground in front of her.

“Hands,” I said.

“Be quiet for a second,” she said. I tried not to smile, but I didn’t say anything. “These are all of the original murders,” she went on. “I saw that the police never released this one small detail, that the pinky on the left hand was only ever clipped down to the second knuckle while the other fingers were all removed completely.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I remember that. They wanted to be able to verify it if we ever caught the guy.”

“You also said that you weren’t sure if we were dealing with someone who had actually worked with Seed or if we were dealing with a copycat, right?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out now.”

She stared at me for a second. “Don’t you see? Only the people most intimate with the killings would know this: the killer himself, plus the four other agents that worked on this file, including yourself.

I cocked my head at her, frowning. Her large eyes stared back at me, her face serious, her breath coming deeply. I felt my cock getting hard as I remembered those tits in my face, her body slamming down onto me.

And then it hit me. Of course. If the new murders had hands just like the old murders, then we could conclude that someone with inside information was doing the killings.

I looked at her for a long time. I knew I had reason to be impressed with her, but she had seen something so obvious that I had overlooked.

“You’re right,” I said simply.

Her face broke out into a proud grin. “Really? This is important?”

I nodded. “I need to call the sheriff.”

“Holy shit, Easton!”

I couldn’t help but smile back. She stood up, scattering the pictures across the floor, and threw her arms around me. She crushed her body against mine, hugging me tightly.

I felt a rush of excitement run through me as she pressed herself close, and I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close. In that moment, I realized how close to everything I had become. I was so willing to push every single person away, but for what? Laney wanted to help, and she was good at it. Plus, she was in danger no matter what I did.

I pulled back and looked at her. “About earlier—”

“Unless you’re about to apologize, I don’t want to hear it.”

I grinned at her. “I don’t apologize.”

“That seems like a bad rule.”

I reached behind her and cupped her ass, pressing my crotch harder against her. “We work pretty good together.”

“That doesn’t sound like ‘I’m sorry, Laney; you were right, Laney.’”

“I said you were right.”

“True. You’re so close then.”

That teasing smile on her face was only driving me crazier. Despite having worked my body to exhaustion all day long, I was still rock hard for her, my cock straining against my workout shorts. I knew what I wanted: the only thing that could possibly clear my head.

I kissed her, pressing my mouth against hers. She let out a soft moan as my hands grabbed her ass, pulling her against me tighter. She returned my kiss, wrapping her arms around me.

I’d fucked up when I’d pushed her away. I’d fucked up when I’d thought I could take everything on myself.

But I wasn’t going to fuck up now.