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Noah stared at the firearms and wondered what it would take for someone to turn vigilante—what was the trigger? For Mallory, the trigger had been the murders of his wife and son, coupled with his inability to protect Lucy Kincaid when she was kidnapped. But Fran Buckley—other people have been victims and lost family, and they didn’t take the law into their own hands—why had Fran? What had been her trigger?
Nothing good was coming from this investigation. A cop was dead, lives were ruined, and Noah suspected it wasn’t going to end with Mick Mallory’s confession.
THIRTY-THREE
Lucy didn’t know if it was the strange bed or the events of the day, but after three hours of an uneasy, dreamless sleep, she woke up and was unable to go back to sleep.
She sat up and considered reading, but she needed to sleep.
She didn’t want to be alone.
She was wearing one of Sean’s shirts, a worn, oversized MIT T-shirt that hit her mid-thigh.
Maybe it was sleeping in Sean’s shirt, wrapped in his scent, that had awakened her. With the idea she had, she was glad Patrick was still in California.
She walked silently down the hall to Sean’s room. It was two in the morning, but his light was still on. Her heart flipped. He was working this late because of her. Trying to put all the puzzle pieces together, even though Mallory and Fran and Dave Biggler were all in jail.
Even superheroes needed rest, she thought, planning to say such when she pushed open his bedroom door.
Sean was asleep, wearing sweatpants and no top. He had two laptops open, one next to him and one on his lap, and a folder leaking papers lying on his chest.
Lucy quietly closed the door and walked over. She didn’t want to startle Sean—living with a family of cops she knew that wouldn’t be wise—so she said, “Sean.”
His eyes popped open. They were cloudy from sleep, but two blinks later he was fully awake.
“Luce—you okay?”
“I’m fine. You should go to bed.”
“I will.” He cleared his throat and closed his computers. “I was just monitoring the security system.”
“There’s no one out there.”
“We don’t know that everyone involved has been arrested.”
“No, but why would they come after me?” She shook her head.
“Can I get you something?”
“No.” She lifted the laptops off his bed, putting them on the dresser. He put the file folder on his nightstand. Without asking, she slipped under the blankets.
“Lucy—”
“I want to sleep here tonight. Is that okay with you?”
For a moment, she thought he was going to send her back to the guest room; that he’d give her an awkward excuse, but deep down not want to sleep with her because of her past. Because he didn’t want to rush her or hurt her, and while she appreciated the sensitivities, they were excuses. Because if she were any other woman, he’d have climbed into her bed earlier.
Her old fears rose up, and she opened her mouth to give him an out, an excuse to save face, but then he kissed her.
And all her doubts, all her fears that she was less than perfect for Sean, washed away in his affection.
This was exactly where she was supposed to be.
From the moment Sean started working on his security system, he’d thought about Lucy and debated whether he should go to her room. Lord knew he wanted to, but she’d been so exhausted. He’d considered just holding her, telling her he wanted to simply lay next to her, but he suspected that wouldn’t last. He wanted her, wanted to hold her, kiss her, make love to her.
He was thrilled she’d come to him. And now he wanted to make this moment perfect. Memorable. His mind wanted to go slow, but his body was in a rush. His body wanted all of her now, but he willed himself to take it slow. To be calm. In control.
He so much wanted to lose control with Lucy.
