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Chapter Five
The ugly wallpaper in the living room became a blur as a vice grip wrapped around my middle. My legs swung around in front of me and my boots flew off my feet, splattering dirt on the fancy red-velvet chaise near the fireplace. Dane’s aftershave filled my flaring nostrils and smelled nicer than the man himself. I pounded my fists against his arms that caged me, and I would’ve bit him if I had the chance.
“Let me go,” I screeched.
He held onto me for a second longer, and then with no care, tossed me to the hardwood floor. His knee pressed into my lower back, pinning me beneath him. I groaned when he pushed the full force of his weight against me. Totally stuck, I stared at Wayde’s feet in front of me, now at eye-level, and cursed.
“You’ve kicked me in the balls—twice now, I might add,” Dane snarled. “Explain yourself.”
Well no, kicked him once would be more accurate for the present, but I’d kneed him in the junk after he kissed me in front of Kipp and put my current hell into motion. But really, who was counting?
“Best you explain yourself.” I bit off, even if it sounded like a grumble since the pressure he exuded on my back had taken the wind out of my lungs. “You, no-good-son-of-a-bitch.”
The pressure increased.
“Dane, get off her,” Amelia said in a soft voice, showing no hint of emotion at either being pissed at me for the attack on her husband, or bothered by his aggressive response.
“Promise you won’t kick me again.” He sneered.
I fought against his hold, wracking my brain to come up with a way to get my knee back at his jewels. To my annoyance, his hold remained fierce. He did work for the F.B.I. and perhaps that came with some combat training, explaining why, at the moment, I found myself royally screwed.
“Fine. I won’t kick you.” For now, I nearly added. It all depended on what he said next if his balls would be up in his throat again.
Slowly, as i
f it pained him to do so, he removed his knee, and then the pressure at my back vanished. I pushed off the hardwood floor in two-point-two seconds, noticing his pale face and the way he wasn’t standing straight. Good on him.
Gretchen finally entered through the living room doorway—perhaps she’d been stunned by my ninja moves. She stepped in next to me and fought her smile, but her amusement showed in the twinkle of her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Yes.” I smoothed my pink T-shirt over my jeans, running my hands over my ruffled hair, noting the ends were a little crunchy. I needed a haircut—desperately—but who had time for such things? I sure as hell didn’t, and my broken fingernails proved it. “I’m fine.”
“You’re fine?” Dane’s eyes blazed with fury as he dropped down on the couch, a little stiffly. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
I didn’t care about his wrath. He had mine to face. “You set me up. Don’t try to deny it. I know you did.”
“I…” He glanced at his wife, who stared at him with wide eyes, and then he looked at me. Some of the heat removed from his gaze. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, really?” I drew in a sharp breath, scenting the spicy potpourri in the room that should bring comfort, but didn’t. My blood burned wicked hot. I tightened my fists in preparation to knock his damn teeth out. “It’s a coincidence then, that you did your best to ensure Kipp vanished, so I needed your help.” My voice rose louder. “Help I could only obtain if I came to solve the murder of your father-in-law.”
He avoided my gaze, looking to the hardwood floor. “It wasn’t my original intention.”
Gretchen took my hand, squeezing tight, probably to ensure I didn’t butcher Dane. Maybe she realized where I was going with this. “But your intentions changed, didn’t they?”
He slowly lifted his head, eyes darkened. “Perhaps, but it doesn’t change the fact I don’t agree with your relationship.” He looked at Wayde, who stood in silence, likely in shock I had kicked Dane in the nuts. “No one here does.”
My anger burned deeper, but I couldn’t deny the truth to his statement, since disgust filled Wayde’s expression. “Guess what?” I spat, staring both men down. “I don’t give a shit what either of you think.”
Wayde snorted as he took a seat on the chaise by the fireplace, covered in the mud from my boots, which he didn’t seem to mind. “Loving a ghost is wrong.” His features twisted. “Sordid.”
Disregarding Wayde and his stupid opinions, I focused on Dane. “Did you know Kipp was in a coma?” It all seemed to come together like some sick puzzle, and my stomach churned as if I had drunk sour milk. At Dane’s silence, I shouted, “Did you know?”
His eyes became ice cold. “Max told me the day I arrived.”
Max, the Sergeant I worked for on the cold-case files, thought I needed guidance with my gifts and went out to find it. He brought Dane into my life and a shit load of trouble, too.
Gretchen squeezed my hand so tight it hurt and shame sounded thick on her voice. “Dane, how could you?”
I pinched my eyes shut and inhaled the woodsy scent from the crackling fire to calm the rage pulsating in my veins before I opened them to Dane again. “This was never about my loving Kipp and holding him back. It couldn’t have been, because you knew all along that he couldn’t cross over. It’s always been about you getting me to help you because you knew full well I wouldn’t do it without a good reason.”
