The Past Between Us (8 page)

“I’m already in trouble,” she said, inching her hand farther. “What’s a little more?”

“This is too easy,” he murmured, his skin tingling where her hands rested against his chest. “You can’t think that I don’t see what you’re doing, and it’s beneath you, Cassi.”

She jerked, her gaze narrowing but he held her tight. “Let me go then,” she demanded, losing the softness he saw only moments prior. Her muscles rigid, she pushed against him but he had the advantage. It wasn’t right for him to continue to hold her like this but he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t get an illicit enjoyment from it. “You’ve made your point. Now get your hands off me before I start screaming my head off.”

“Go ahead,” he taunted her. “You’re in my custody and I’ve already shown the clerk my badge. As far as he’s concerned, you’re not his problem.”

Her mouth pinched but her cheeks flared with high heat. She was fighting mad and it only made her sexier. Damn, and he wasn’t immune to the effect she had on him. His jeans started to tighten and he realized he may have lost his edge in this fight but he couldn’t let her know that.

She must’ve sensed something for her expression turned cunning and she angled her head to regard him with that turbulent gaze of hers. Instead of struggling against him, she turned the tables and slid her hands around his neck.

“Oh, Tommy,” she murmured, her sweet voice sliding like something naughty across his nerve endings. “You’re not so tough, you know. I know all your secrets. Your weak spots. I know you want me…always have. And here I am. All yours. Don’t you want a taste?”

He swallowed what felt like his Adam’s apple and he tried to set her away from him, but she clung to him like a spider monkey, pressing herself against him in all the right spots. “Okay, knock it off,” he demanded, but his voice betrayed a subtle tremble. His hands ached to explore the curves of her plump ass as his tongue plunged into her mouth and other places. He was holding on to his resolve by the thinnest of threads. “Damn it, Cassi, you’re messing with fire. You don’t want to do this.”

She laughed, low and throaty, and rubbed herself against him, her breath hitching in her throat before whispering against the shell of his ear, “You’re always trying to tell me what to do. I see some things haven’t changed.”

Like hell they hadn’t.
At that, he managed to set her away from him, his breathing labored, his heart banging hard against his chest as if he’d run a marathon. He narrowed his stare at her as she watched him with a knowing smirk. “Is this all a game to you?” he asked, pissed at himself and at her for trying something so stupid. “I’m an FBI agent here to arrest you. Don’t you realize what kind of trouble you’re in? I could drag your ass in right now and be done with it but you’ve got me asking questions I shouldn’t give a shit about and here you’re still playing me like I’m some ordinary jerk who doesn’t know you from Eve. You’re right—you know some of my secrets but, honey, you’ve forgotten…I know all of
yours.
”

The smirk dissolved from her expression and he saw something flit across her features, chased by a brief moment of vulnerability and aching loneliness, and he almost felt bad for her. But, damn it, she brought this on herself.

Her eyes glittered but she held back the tears and for that, he was grateful. Cassi crying was more than he could handle at the moment. “Fine,” she conceded, moving to the chair, her expression turning mutinous. “You’ve made your point. Abundantly. So now what?”

It would’ve been a simple thing to close the short distance between his lips and hers but he couldn’t do it. As shamefully as he wanted to taste her on his tongue, he wouldn’t. Not like this. He was in a position of authority and he’d never abuse that power.

He sighed, feeling quite distinctly that he’d just cut her pride cleanly in half, but knew he’d made the right choice—even if his libido was screaming something different. He resigned himself to a difficult evening. “Now, you tell me your side of things. And please, just stick to the facts. No embellishing or deleting in your favor. I need to know it all, even if it’s not pretty. Can you do that?”

He was referencing her party days. He knew because that’s when she’d kicked him out of her life. She was tempted to offer an apology for her appalling behavior back then, but she didn’t see the purpose except easing her own guilt so she kept it to herself.

“Ah, well, let’s see…my dad died about five years after we graduated high school,” she started, surprised by the sudden sting of tears even after all this time.

“I’m sorry about your dad,” he offered gruffly, and she accepted the sentiment with a nod. “Mama Jo told me but…”

“I know…we weren’t exactly on speaking terms. Don’t worry about it. I won’t hold that against you.” She had plenty to hold against him aside from that painful moment in her past, starting with his decision to treat her like a criminal. Refocusing, she continued, “My mom met Lionel Vissher about three years after that. He seemed nice enough…I mean, my mom and I weren’t really getting along all because of the crowd I was running with. I got into some trouble. Nothing major,” she clarified a bit defensively. “Mostly misdemeanors.”

“Mostly?”

She looked away. “Yeah. Mostly.”

“I’d call a felony DUI pretty major,” he said, and she turned to stare at him. Of course he’d read her file and that particular episode was on her permanent record.

“Yes, it is. And I never did it again. Please don’t lecture me.”

He held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture. “No lecture. Just statement of fact. But I do find it interesting that you tend to gloss over the parts where you’re in the wrong.”

She stiffened. “I’m not glossing over anything. I know I screwed up. I paid my dues. And I learned my lesson,” she said. “May I continue?”

“Please do. I’m still waiting for the part where you prove that you’re the innocent one. So far…I’m not convinced.”

She didn’t snap at the bait but she did communicate her feelings with a healthy glare sent his way. So self-righteous. Like Tommy Bristol never made a mistake? She choked back the hot words bubbling to the surface. Lord, her temper would be the death of her. She drew a deep breath before continuing. “Like I said, at first Lionel seemed an all right guy. I mean, he wasn’t my dad, that’s for sure, but there wasn’t anyone who would’ve measured up. I tried not to let that influence me, though, but maybe it did. But whatever…my mom was really taken with him and he made her happy. It wasn’t until later when I realized he was siphoning money from various accounts that I started to get suspicious.”

“How’d you find out he was doing that?”

“Complete accident. I went into my mom’s office to find something on her computer and he’d left a browser open on the computer. It was a bank account in his name only at a bank I’d never heard of. My family has banked at the same bank for decades and I know my mom would never switch. She liked the preferential treatment they always gave her when she went into the local branch. I felt like I’d peeked into something that was none of my business and I felt bad so I almost closed the window but curiosity got the better of me—” she shrugged, not really sorry at all “—and I realized he’d been stockpiling money.”

“Did you confront him about it?”

“Not at first. I was hoping I was wrong. I mean, I didn’t want to make a wild accusation without some kind of proof and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the truth, either. My mom was really happy for once and I thought, maybe it’s not a big deal in the overall scheme of things. But, in the end, I couldn’t keep it going. Especially when he was spending my family’s fortune on extravagant purchases, like yachts and parties—none of which my mom authorized.”

“How do you know?”

“First, my mom hated the water. Boats scared her. That’s why my dad never bought a yacht. He respected her fear and didn’t want to make it worse. Second, my mom always seemed to find out about the parties after they were over. As in, he always seemed to forget to invite his own wife.”

“I’ll give you that he seems like an inconsiderate jerk but…”

“I’m not finished. That was just the beginning. I started asking around. I heard a rumor that he was messing around behind my mom’s back. A maid heard Lionel in the bedroom with another woman while my mom was out shopping. I told my mom what I’d been told. At first she didn’t want to believe me but I know I planted a seed of doubt because they started fighting. This went on for a while. I could tell my mom was under a huge strain but she tried to hide it. She even went so far as to give him lavish gifts but it felt desperate to me. Of course, she denied it. But…then she started getting sick.”

“Sick?”

“Yeah.” Her voice hitched with remembered pain. “At first, it was stomachaches. Real bad ones. But she’d get better and it was forgotten. Then they’d start again. She went to doctor after doctor and had gobs of tests done but everything always came up clean. The doctor said it was stress and suggested she start taking yoga or gardening.”

“I remember your mom being a little high-strung….”

“She was, which didn’t help matters. And neither did Lionel. I started asking questions and that’s when he’d whisk her away for some kind of rejuvenating vacation, and funny enough, she always got better. Except when she came home, then it would start all over.”

“No one thought that was odd?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. Lionel himself brought in all these specialists to test for
toxic mold,
and of course, the house came up clean but he put on a good show of really worrying about my mom’s health.”

“So what made you think he was the cause of her decline?”

She drew a deep breath, hating that she had so little to prove her theory, yet she knew in her heart that he had killed her mother. She shrugged. “Nothing really. Just a feeling.”

“What did the autopsy say?”

“Because the police didn’t suspect foul play, an autopsy wasn’t done, and Lionel didn’t ask for one.”

“You could’ve pressed for it as a family member, particularly since you had concerns.”

“By that point, Lionel had convinced the police that I was simply a disgruntled, spoiled brat who was just trying to create a distraction from my own problems.”

“Was it true?” he asked carefully, and her head shot up. He lifted his hands. “I have to ask. The last time we spoke you were running with a party crowd that was into some serious shit.”

The temptation to lie was great. She hated admitting what a mess she’d been. Tommy awaited an answer, but she couldn’t mislead him, even to soften the rough edges of the truth. “I was messed up,” she admitted. “But by the time my mom died I’d cleaned up. I’d stopped hanging around the party scene and I was trying to protect my mom. But she was fighting me as much as Lionel was trying to cover everything up. She couldn’t believe that she was in danger. She thought the same thing Lionel was telling everyone else…that I was a spoiled brat trying to ruin my mom’s life by making wild accusations. My record didn’t help. I didn’t have anyone to turn to for help.” She was horrified to find her eyes welling and she turned away so Tommy didn’t catch it.

But it was too late. “Cassi,” he called her name softly. She reluctantly met his gaze. “Come here,” he instructed.

“Why?”

“Just do it.”

“A minute ago you said—”

“I know what I said. Just come here.”

“When’d you get so bossy,” she grumbled, but she slowly closed the distance between them. In spite of the circumstances, her heart rate kicked up a beat just being so near to him. She didn’t want to be this close to him without a purpose or plan to put into play. This felt real and was something she’d thought of many times when she’d been cold, hungry and lost, yet her pride and fear had kept her from picking up the phone. “You don’t want to do this, remember?” she said, her voice a husky whisper.

“I never said I didn’t want to…I said I wouldn’t,” he corrected her, his hands at her waist drawing her to him.

“What’s the difference?” she asked. The wild, intense heat in his eyes turned her knees to jelly, and a shake had begun to steal the strength from her legs. Her hands came to rest on his shoulders for support as much as anything else, for she felt ready to slide to the floor.

“The difference is now you’re being sincere. You’re not playing an angle to get something from me.”

“How do you know?” she said.

“Because I can see it in your eyes and hear it in your voice. Whatever you’re feeling right now is real and it hurts.”

God, he was right. Damn him for knowing her so well even after all these years. His next statement nearly did her in.

“Cassi, I would’ve been there for you. Despite all that’d been said between us, I would’ve dropped everything to help you. You have to know that, right?”

“No, I don’t know that,” she lied, blinking away the hot moisture. She swallowed. “I don’t know that now.”

His mouth tightened with displeasure at her continued mulishness but he seemed to understand where it was coming from. “I would’ve done whatever I could to help you. I promise you.”

“What does it matter? I didn’t come to you and I made my bed, right?”

“Cassi…”

“I don’t need you to save me,” she snapped bitterly. “I’m doing just fine on my own.”

His arched brow said he didn’t agree but her pride had its demands and she couldn’t say otherwise. They were in a standoff and Cassi didn’t expect his next request so when it came she was caught off guard.

“I’m here for you now. Will you trust me?”

Time stopped with that single, loaded question. Trust him? She couldn’t trust anyone. She had a price on her head and there was a man who would stop at nothing to keep his secret. But this was Tommy asking the question and she wanted to say yes. She wanted to simply nod and allow him to fix this problem. It was weak and sad and when this whole mess started she swore she’d never put herself in a situation where she felt either of those things. Yet, here she was…staring into the eyes of the man she should’ve been smart enough to marry, and content to have his babies—but she hadn’t. She’d been stupid and hurtful and…naive about her place in the world and so had lost everything that had ever mattered. “I…”
Want to. Desperately.
But the truth was…she didn’t know how to trust any longer. She was caught in a permanent cycle of fight or flight and she didn’t know how to respond to something outside of those parameters. She couldn’t tell him that, either. She ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip and Tommy’s gaze fastened on the movement with an expression that was feral and achingly delicious, and she answered the only way she could, given the circumstances. “Yes, Tommy,” she said. “I trust you.”

Even if it was a total lie.