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“It is,” I confirm, wishing I could get a better read on what he’s thinking.
Leaning forward, Martin places his lips over mine and all talk of the future evaporates into thin air and I’m lost in his touch. He sucks and nips at my mouth until I open and then he delves his tongue deep. Taking all that he can get from me.
Dropping my textbook onto the grass behind us, I grip his shirt in my fists and pull him closer. Idly, I wonder if this persistent need to have him consume me will ever vanish and then I pray it never does.
His strong hands tense on my back as he pulls me closer, and just as I’m about to climb onto his lap, a throat clearing pulls us apart.
There in the flesh stand the two people who have been the most judgmental of every moment of my life.
My parents.
“What the hell is this?” my father snaps. Martin growls deep in his chest, vibrating my fingers as they still hold onto him.
“Hi, Mom, Dad. How was your trip?” I try to untangle myself from Martin’s grasp, but he’s not having it and I’m forced to remain still as he assesses what’s happening.
“Never mind that, what the hell is going on?” my father repeats.
“Oh, umm, well, have you met Martin before?” I know they’ve at least seen him around. He’s at the Inwood’s house all the time.
“We’ve seen enough of him.” That doesn’t sound promising.
“Mr. and Mrs. Davis, it’s nice to formally meet you. I’m Marty Lynch.” He stands, reaching out a hand for me to take. I don’t hesitate even if the glare in my father’s eyes is filled with anger.
“We know who you are, Mr. Lynch. Why were you kissing my daughter? I’m quite certain it’s illegal.” His last sentence isn’t quite as confident.
“Dad, I turned eighteen last week. I’m of age.” Martin flinches, my father’s glare deepens, and Mom looks bored. This isn’t going at all how I wanted it to.
“Inside, Celeste. Now. We obviously need to have a conversation.” I notice his fists balling and clenching tightly, and when I feel Martin tense beside me, I know he does too.
Turning to me, he tells me quietly, “You don’t have to go in with them. You can come over until they’ve had time to cool their tempers.” His gaze searches mine and I smile, loving that he’s worried about me.
“He won’t hit me. He never has. I’ve never had anything to fear.” Placing a hand on his cheek, I try to reassure him, but I know he doesn’t like the idea. “I’ll come see you later.” Mindful of my parents watching, I lean up to kiss his cheek and pick up my book.
Martin walks forward and stops in front of my father. “Lay one hand on her and you’ll have nothing to worry about except for bending over for a bar of soap for the rest of your life, we clear?” I have to cover my mouth to stop from laughing at Martin’s threat and the look on my father’s face.
“I assure you, I would never hit my child,” Dad snaps back.
Martin nods, gives me one last look, and exits our yard to go back next door.
“Inside, Celeste, now.”
Marty
This waiting is bullshit. It’s after dark now and not knowing what the hell has happened over at her house is killing me. Every instinct I have says to go over there, bust down the door, and drag Celeste out caveman-style.
If not for her reassurance that she would be fine, and her father didn’t scare her, I’d have fucking done that by now. I have a powerful need pulling at me to grab her now.
My phone buzzing in my pocket saves me from going over there. “Detective Lynch,” I bark through the line.
“Detective!” My precinct’s new captain, Duncan Rayford, snaps through the line.
“Yes, Cap?” He’s not who I want to deal with right now.
“Get your ass down to the station right now!” He hangs up before I can ask why, and I’m cursing more now than I was when I left Celeste’s side.
Grabbing my car keys, I’m in no rush to leave as I stroll out the front door. The lights are on at her house and I see her mother in the den, where all that damn liquor was, and a sour feeling punches me in the gut. I want to check on her, but I know if I don’t get to my captain now, he’ll be bitchier when I do get there.
With one last look at Celeste’s, I jump in my Crown Vic and head into the city. My need to get home sooner rather than later drives me as I rush through the traffic and nearly get hit going through a yellow light.
