Red Silk Scarf (9 page)

On the return
trip to her apartment, despite emotions snapping like static, nothing was said,
not a damn word.
 
Upon arriving, one
would have thought that Sullivan would turn on a light, check the rooms.
 
Why when he was the killer, when, in spite of
his dark cruelty, the sun had risen?
        

Starting now,
little time remained to prevent Sullivan from killing again, and, by God, he
wouldn't, not as long as she breathed, Cassidy vowed.
 
The man was insane, a thought that lasted
exactly one second.

 
Sandwiching her between the wall and himself,
his hand gripping her chin forced her full attention.
 
His eyes becoming dark, as pitch grew
suddenly distant as a fine sheen of sweat emerged on his forehead, and the
muscles of his cheeks twitched, and nostrils flared.
 
Anger clearly riding his features curled
Sullivan’s lips as though he wanted to talk, but couldn't, then when he did,
his soft tone was so shocking, so unexpected, she shuttered.
 

“Her name was
Stella, a friend of mine.
 
I knew her
well.
 
Do you understand?
 
You could be next if you don't stay away from
me, from Mark, from cops.
 
If you refuse,
no one will be able to save you, believe me, no one.
 
When I leave, chain the door.”
 
Sullivan’s lips were a breath away from those
quivering, teasing, and barely skimming over hers and though his mouth never
laid full claim; thoroughly kissed she'd been, deeply, passionately, kissed
like never before, kissed as she’d always dreamed.

Sullivan had
reached successes plateau, as intended he'd, left his mark, and claimed
her.
 
Cassidy now knew with terrifying
certainty he was a man accustomed to taking whatever he wanted whenever he
wanted.
 
Problem was little exertion
would be necessary.
 
She’d let him.
 
A powerful and determined man, whether he was
good or evil, Sullivan was the kind of man who had always secretly dallied in
her fantasies.

No, how could
that be.
 
He was a killer with a disease
she didn't want to get, a deadly virus capable of finding every entrance to a
women’s body.
 
Was it already too late?
 
Never, she screamed inwardly, she'd fight him
to the end yet, for the first time in her career, there was a trace of doubt
she'd win.
 
Right now, with the ecstasy
he’d erupted still flowing in her veins, Cassidy wasn't sure she wanted to.
 
Dear God, she was thinking like an
idiot.
 
No, more like not thinking at
all.
 
In the short time, she’d known him
Sullivan had managed to find and pry loose whatever demons were inside
her.
  

           
In the time, it took to regain a
breath, think rationally, Sullivan had disappeared.
 
This time she locked and chained the
door.
 
After checking the locks for the
fifth time, using it for support, Cassidy stomped out the embers he left behind
grinding them into ashes beneath her feet, the part of her disintegrating at
the slightest possibility Sullivan might be the killer.
 

Then again, what
he said confused her.
 
Confused wasn't
the word for what he did to her.
 
His
mind games had found and toyed with her most private emotions making her wonder
if that was what he did with all of them, why none of the victims fought
back.
 
Possibly, he was tired of killing,
and he wanted it to be over, the reason he told her to chain the door.
  

Tears were rare
to Cassidy, the reason she cried so long, so hard not knowing if it was her depleted
energy, nerves or whether she was crying for Sullivan somehow knowing he was
incapable.
 

____________

 
Sullivan managed to enter the elevator before
giving into the sexual frustration that brought his fist repeatedly against the
wall, preferable over hitting Cassidy.
 
God only knew if she were a man, she would have been on her ass.
 
Without blinking an eyelash, she'd aroused
him beyond reason.
 
The problem was he
couldn't tell whether it was her beauty or spunk, a rare specimen of strength
and determination, a reflection that brought his hand to the cheek remaining on
fire.
 
Cheek hell, his entire body was
aflame.
 

Never did
Sullivan know a woman so soft, pliable and willing to become such a wild
cat.
 
An irresistible wild cat that
pricked his curiosity as to whether she'd fight or willingly give in, the
reason his lips barely resisted hers so desperate was he to find out.
 
In conclusion, no one portion of Cassidy
would be enough he wanted all of her.
 
She'd be the best of them, the last of them the reality that she
wouldn't die easily wrenched his gut.
        

CHAPTER 8

The
digital reading on the clock registered fifteen minutes past noon before
Cassidy's eyelids struggled open.
 
Four
hours of sleep did nothing to revive an exhausted state.
 
Cranky was putting it mildly.
 
Never before did she feel violated or
mentally raped while remaining untouched physically.

From
the moment she saw his picture; Sullivan came in and out of Cassidy’s mind like
a crashing tidal wave.
 
Now he'd,
penetrated her privacy, touched intimately, set up permanent residency in the
light of day.
 
Moreover, in dreams that
last night lingered long enough to render major damage.
 
Even enshrouded in drowsiness, it was evident
evicting Sullivan from her mind meant convicting him.
 

Cassidy
practically pounding down his door, then verbally abusing him, rendered Ben
horsewhipped.
  
Then when she refused to
listen to him, exited and slammed the door behind her Ben had to stomp back and
forth to keep from knocking her senseless.
 
God Dammit, how did he know where Sullivan got his information or how he
got into her apartment?
 
Not only did the
bastard do as he damn well pleased, but removed Cassidy from the premises right
under his nose, the act making Ben completely incompetent in her eyes.
  

Shit,
if Cassidy knew how strung out on drugs he was at the time, let alone making
love to her mentally, she'd have his ass along with his badge.
 
Their friendship wouldn’t matter, Cassidy
only saw black and white.
 
Damn her over
confidence.
 
What made her so sure
Sullivan was the killer anyway?
 

In
order to protect his undercover agents, Dan arranged regular rendezvous at
different locations.
 
When his time came,
Ben intended to object strongly to Cassidy's idiotic new scheme.
 
She was a fool not to believe Sullivan was
out of her league.

____________

           
Pacing in
front of Cassidy contemplating her plan, repetitiously Dan rubbed his chin and
plunged fingers through his hair.
 
Sullivan’s presumptuousness angered him.
 
What was he supposed to do, put guards at her door, for Christ sake just
because DeMarco had been sloppy? Cassidy was an officer on an assignment,
that's what he told himself, the heart clanging around right now knew better.
   

           
Bravery,
determination and over confidence were only a few of the fascinating facets of
the complex Ms. Brady, the fact that Dan was in love with her made them major
obstacles.
 
A surprising emotion
considering he’d never been drawn to, nor did he respect the type of woman she
represented.
 
In his opinion, a female
hell bent to take a man's position in the world, quite possibly his.
 
In all probability, Cassidy’s plan would
fail, the reason Dan decided to go along for the ride.
 
Known for having her way one way or another,
possibly this time she'd learn once and for all women were the weaker of
sexes.
 
Maybe then, she'd give in to
him.
 

Again,
Dan's eyes were undressing her; Cassidy could only imagine the gutter in which
his thoughts were wallowing, a desire oozing in the form of perspiration Dan
could not hide.
 
Whenever they were
alone, he always crowded her, touched her and he was perspiring and cornering
her right this minute.

           
Pausing
uncharacteristically, turning to face Cassidy, “All right, if you’re so damn
sure it’s Sullivan I can take the heat if you can.
 
Mind you, I don't have extra men to
spare.
 
I'll allow Michael and Ben,
that’s all.”
 
Wagging his finger at her,
threateningly, “You have until the next full moon.
 
Listen up when I tell you, it is your neck
and if he's the lunatic, you had better not stick it out too far.
 
Besides, it's too beautiful to get damaged.”
        

           
Unrequited
passion forced Dan a step closer to enable the backs of his fingers to stroke
her throat.
 
Cassidy dodged in time, a
sudden move that did not allow words to sift through her mind.
 
“Thanks, Dan.
 
I owe you one.”
 
A thoughtless
insinuation that made her want to slap herself.
 
Raw nerves were to blame.
 
Not for
one second did she wonder what he'd expect in return.
 
Her only advantage was no one ever challenged
her abilities and won.
  

____________

           
Ben's
reaction was of a wild man in a cage, pacing, swearing.
 
Lungs expanded to capacity released his black
anger, “I can't believe you agreed.
 
You
might as well have put the scarf around her neck yourself.”
 
Believing Dan to be the ultimate idiot, “I
suppose you expect me to protect her?
 
Well, it's impossible.
 
Sullivan
is too damn good.
 
Christ, after what
happened last night?”

Like
a rooster with feathers standing on end Dan bristled, “Cassidy is a law
enforcement officer, just like you.
 
The
fact that she's a female plays no part in this.
 
You and I both know she's the best for the job.
 
I'm counting on you and Michael to protect
her.”
 
Dan's voice reaching an all-time
high practically vibrated the walls of the small motel room.
 
“Now I suggest you get your shit
together.
 
If you can't do your job, I
want your badge,” something Dan had been after for a long time.

Ben
was yet to realize Dan's impatience was because he didn't like Ben, never did,
Ben’s drug addiction and whoring reasonable reasons.
 
Nevertheless, Ben and Michael were the only
men good enough to protect Cassidy.
 
Stupid not in the least, Ben's feelings for Cassidy went beyond
friendship.
 
Sure Dan knew, and it pissed
him off.
 
The devious man that he was
also knew that Ben’s involvement considerably raised her odds of getting out of
this one alive and, for his sake, and his future she had to.

____________

           
Damn
aggravating woman, Ben stewed.
 
Now he'd
never sleep, nor would Cassidy.
 
Whatever
made her believe she could get in and out of Sullivan's apartment without
detection?
 
Making matters worse, without
calling attention to his presence, Ben couldn't get close enough to guarantee
protection.
 
He’d have to depend on
Michael, a master of disguise, a detective working undercover for the precinct,
who kept primarily to himself.
 
Although
Michael had peculiar quirks and wasn't at all friendly, Ben knew there was no
one better in his field.
 
All he could do
now was to wait, wonder, and worry something he had not mastered.
 
His only choices were to keep his senses,
which meant cutting back on drugs, drinking and whoring.
 
Yeah, right!
  
  

CHAPTER 9