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anxiety, the adrenaline, the constant state of

craziness.”

“First of all I deal with this type of stress all the time. Second of all it doesn’t explain why I wanted to fuck you until you’d stop berating me at

parent-teacher conferences.” He chuckled warmly, still holding his fork midair.

“So it really has nothing to do with all of this?”

“If some adrenaline-fueled lust is why you are here with me, then we

need to talk. This is the biggest interruption to what I want to be doing

with you.” His face was suddenly quite serious.

“Which is what?”

“Getting to know you better. Figuring you out, I suppose. Making you fall in love with me.” His words and his eyes trailed off at this last

statement and Katrina’s heart was suddenly pounding.

“Do you love me?” She thought it sounded like a logical question in

her head but the second she uttered the words she was mortified. Her voice was quiet, she couldn’t swallow and for the life of her, she couldn’t

look at his eyes that were suddenly back on her.

“Yes.” He sounded as quiet as she did and when the waitress

appeared out of nowhere asking how their food was, they just stared at

each other, saying nothing—not even to the poor confused waitress

standing by patiently.

“Yes.” She was whispering again. She’d never whispered so much in

her life.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, ‘yes’? I asked how the eggplant was?”

“No, I mean, yes. I mean yes to him and the eggplant. It’s good too but, uh…” Shit, she was losing it but Dillon was smiling. He was amused

and his hand found hers on the tabletop, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s nothing. She’s in love with me, that’s all. The food’s delicious too.” The waitress gave them an odd nod before leaving. They didn’t see

much of her after that but then they weren’t paying much attention to anyone but each other.

* * * * *

His admission had shocked the hell out of him about as much as it seemed to shock her. When she told him she loved him too, well that took shock to a whole new level. Then to top it off, she climbed into his

lap the moment he’d turned his Tahoe off and hit the garage door opener, closing it. Shock number three and while the first two melted his

heart, this one sent a different kind of heat through his body.

She was undoing the buttons of his shirt while he attacked her mouth.

She parted the fabric of his shirt with a ravenous jerk and her mouth moved down to his neck. He was too old for hickeys but he wasn’t going

to be stopping her mouth as she sucked on his skin. When she scooted back toward the steering wheel, it was so she could trail her mouth down

to his nipple. She nipped gently with her teeth and he groaned.

He pulled her shirt over her head and took in her black bra. She had incredible breasts—perky with the softest skin he’d ever felt. He pulled

the cups down below her breasts, pushing the perkiness up even more.

She had only small partial lines of scabbing at this point from where she’d been cut and most of the cuts were nothing more than thin scars.

He ran his fingers across the slightly raised pink lines and she leaned

back, watching him. When he leaned down and sucked her nipple into his mouth, his fingers kneaded the plump mound of her breast as his mouth worked. He squeezed, careful not to be too rough around the last

remaining healing lines and he pulled. He let his front teeth clamp down

gently and she moaned as she slid her pelvis back to meet his.

She was wearing pants and as his arousal continued to mount and her

hips pushed down to his desperately, he stilled her body gently with his

hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you wear crotchless pants today?” His voice was husky as he spoke in her ear.

“Sorry. What was I thinking?”

He smacked her ass playfully and she flinched, pulling her body even

closer to his. He kissed her, careful not to let things get too heated again before pulling his mouth from her and shaking his head in mock

disapproval. When he pulled the door handle, she dropped her head to

his shoulder.

“Hang on, sweetie.” He stood with her straddling his hips and her legs gripped him tightly while her arms hugged him.

He wasted no time carrying her into the house and planting her on the couch but then his cell phone started ringing. He contemplated letting it ring but her eyebrows shot up when it rang for the third time and he sat up between her legs, snatching it from the coffee table where

he’d abandoned it. She lounged back on the couch, watching him.

“Your girl’s house is on fire. What do you wanna bet it’s not

accidental?” Dillon was silent, fighting to control his reaction to Stephens’ words as Katrina watched him. “Fuck, she’s with you, isn’t she? That’s why you’ve got nothing to say and why Terrell was bitching

about her not telling them where she’s been staying.”

“I’ll have to talk to you later.”

“You stupid fuck.”

Katrina’s phone started ringing but she had a hard time pulling her eyes from Dillon to see who was calling. She was suspicious. She was right to be. He couldn’t seem to hide the shock from her.

“I’ll call you later.”

“Wait.” Stephens snapped at him.

Katrina answered her phone as he was waiting for Stephens to say

something more and when he saw her face fall, he knew she’d just been

given the news. Her eyes instantly filled with tears and she turned her face from him, reaching her hand up to cover her eyes as she started to

cry.

“I’ll stop by to pick her up. They’ll need to talk to her and I’m guessing it’ll be better if she shows up with me than you. No one thinks

I’m fucking her.” Stephens disconnected and Dillon reached for her.

“I’m sorry, sweetie. That was Stephens. He just told me.”

“Why? Why would someone do this?” She was sobbing as he pulled

her into his lap. She sank against him.

“I don’t know, sweetie. I’m so sorry. Stephens is going to come pick

you up and take you to the precinct. He’ll be here in about fifteen minutes. Can I get you anything?”

“No.” And he went back to holding her. There was nothing more he

could do for her and it was a helpless feeling.

“Will they let me see the house?” She kept shaking her head in

disbelief and she couldn’t stop the tears.

“Not tonight. Not until SFD and forensics have cleared the scene.” He

kept his voice low, soothing. It was the same voice he used when he spoke to pretty much any female witness and he hated the sound of it right now. There was nothing about her that he could allow to be anything like them but she responded to his voice and she snuggled in closer to him, relaxing against his body. This was definitely not how he

handled his witnesses.

When Stephens knocked on the door she stood and he followed her.

Stephens stepped through the door and regarded them both. He glared

at Dillon and tried for a sympathetic expression with her. Niceties just weren’t his thing—which was why Dillon was the front man in their team.

“You’ll be able to see the house sometime over the next couple days to see if there’s anything salvageable but I wouldn’t expect much.” She nodded but her tears were sitting precariously on her lower lids, just waiting for an excuse to fall again.

When Stephens reached a hand out to her shoulder, he spoke. “I’m

sorry, Katrina.” Hell, he didn’t even address her formally. Dillon was starting to suspect he knew why his partner was trying to protect him and it was far less to do with him and more to do with her. He liked her.

Not the like that would make Dillon want to knock his teeth out—he just

liked her, respected her.

Her tears started to fall and Stephens pulled his hand back, shaking his head in frustration. It wasn’t frustration at Katrina. It was frustration at this case, at the jeopardy her life was in, the threat that lingered over her head regardless of what they did to try to stop it. He and Stephens were on the same page for once and it was all about protecting Katrina.

He likely shouldn’t touch Katrina in front of Stephens but there was

no way he could stand idly by while she endured this and when he pulled her into his arms, she didn’t object nor did Stephens. “You have

your key?” She nodded as she pulled from him. “I’ll talk to you when you get home. I’m sorry I’m not going with you.”

She shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.” She was trying to reassure

him. Odd. That was his job. He threw caution to the wind entirely when

he leaned to her mouth and kissed her. It was just one gentle sweet kiss,

though admittedly finishing it off by telling her he loved her was pushing things. Stephens harrumphed but said nothing.

“I love you too.”

He watched as Stephens walked her out to his car and he watched as

they backed from his driveway. Helplessness was beginning to take over

his life and he hated it.

Chapter Twenty-Two

By the time they reached the precinct it was nearly ten and by the time she waited a couple of hours for Smith and Terrell to arrive back from the scene it was after midnight. They asked her endless questions—

the same ones they’d asked her a hundred times before. They gave her status updates on just how destroyed her home was.

The fire department took the better portion of the night putting it out

and once it was safe, Detectives Smith and Terrell drove her by her home

so she could sob until she sank into a stupor. They wouldn’t let her get

out and she wasn’t sure she really wanted to. Her neighbors—people who she’d said hi to, waved to, chatted with—all stood around, staring at

her still-smoking pile of burned-out house.

When they brought her back to the precinct Stephens was still there waiting for her, looking annoyed and perhaps a bit exhausted. It was now the ass crack of dawn and for all the emotion coursing through her

like a raging river of confusion, she was still worn out and ready to slip

away to something more peaceful than real life.

As she sat and waited she tried her damndest to figure out what the

hell was going on in her head. She was numb one minute and then in a

nanosecond she was livid and wanted to scream.

Her rage was short-lived as the memories of the home she’d made for

herself started circling in her head. Then her sadness turned to outright

terror at just how truly fucked she might be. Relief she was at least alive

for the time being crept in after that and then the numbness took over again as she fought to wrap her head around it all.

“Can I take Ms. Page home now, boys?” Stephens seemed to be

friends with Detective Terrell, given their slightly more personable regard for each other but Detective Smith was another matter.

“What? You her escort now, that it?”

Stephens chuckled humorlessly. “Fuck no. Ms. Page and I run in the

same circles. She’s an educator and I’m just smart as fuck.” Stephens had

an odd way of defusing the situation and refusing to give a straight

answer. “We’re cerebral types, Ms. Page and I and we ain’t got time for your bullshit. Now can I get her outta here or do you two want to waste

more of her time?”

They were on the road less than ten minutes later. It was far too early

for Katrina’s taste and when she put it in the context of having not even

slept yet, it was just far too damn late. Stephens pulled through a Starbucks drive-through, ordering himself a grande dark roast with three

extra shots of espresso. Damn. “Whatcha want, Ms. Page?”

“Katrina. Please. I expect all my chauffeurs to call me by my first name.” He smiled. She’d never seen him smile before. “I’ll just have a sugar-free vanilla steamer.”

“A whater?”

Now it was her turn to smile. It was weak, likely unconvincing, but it

was a start. The light pink that was brightening the sky by the minute was much-needed medicine to her mood. Kitty was safe. She was too and

not a damn bit of what that lunatic had taken away from her had a heartbeat. She was lucky really. She was also homeless.

“It’s steamed milk with vanilla flavor. I intend to sleep when I get home, not stay awake for a week straight like you apparently intend to

do.”

Once they had their drinks in hand, he headed toward Dillon’s house

and she stared out at the slowly lightening sky.

“Can I ask what your first name is, Detective?”

“Marcus. Or Marc.”

“Why don’t you and Dillon get along? It’s not just me is it?”

“Humph…” She was getting used to his humphs. She seldom had any

idea what exactly they meant but she knew they weren’t malicious.

Nothing about Stephens was—not that it was easy to tell.

“Gettin’ along with people hasn’t always been my strong suit. Don’t

mean I don’t like the man. Like him just fine. And frankly I get along with him as good as anyone.”

“You’re…helping him with this situation. I guess I was just

wondering why.”

“By situation I assume you mean the fact you’re fucking him.”

“Now is that how us cerebral folk talk?”

Another humph. “What you two are doin’ is risky. It’s a good thing he’s not on your case anymore. And not ‘cause I think he’s not a capable

detective. He’s one of the best I ever known. We’re good at what we do

but he was losing his perspective with you.”

She nodded. She understood that much.

“Now it’s his career he’s gotta worry about. This case won’t always stand in the way. And he ain’t the first detective to fall for a witness. It happens. But discretion is the name of the game and this fucking perp put your relationship front and center with his photographic talents.”

She was being silent listening to him. He wasn’t a man of many words and if he was ready to talk she was going to listen.

“Truth of the matter is I get it. He can’t stay away from you. And frankly I’d rather see you living with him than anywhere else but it’s gonna be a risk to his career until this thing is over. The rules about conflict of interest are gray. What is and what isn’t considered a conflict

isn’t as cut-and-dry as you might think. He was told to stay away from

you and he’s not. Now that don’t mean he’s out a job. What it means is

he could be if the chief decides to make a big deal out of it. He could be if your relationship ever becomes an issue in court. It’s just a hell of a lot of could-bes he has hanging over his head.”

“You think I should stop seeing him?” It hurt to even consider and she wasn’t sure she could even do it.

“No.” And then he pulled over abruptly and turned to her. “No.” He

stared at the floor of the car at her feet with a perplexed look on his face.

He shook his head subtly and it was a ridiculously long time before he finally looked up to her again. “I like you. I like you with him. You’re good for him. The kind of good that makes this risk worth it. You asked

why I was stepping in and helping to take some of the heat off him.

That’s your answer.”

He put the car back in drive but before he pulled back into traffic he

turned to her once more. “You can keep that bit of information to yourself. Don’t need him thinkin’ I’ve gone all mushy and shit.”

“You got it, Detective Stephens.” She threw him an exaggerated wink

and clicked her tongue in her cheek for effect.

“It’s Marc.”

He walked her to the door when they got back to Dillon’s and Dillon

met them. He looked as exhausted as she felt and he was still dressed from the night before. He thanked Stephens and then he led her up to his

bedroom, pulling the curtains closed and crawling in next to her. She was

asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow with his arms tightly around her.

* * * * *

She woke him as she sat bolt upright in bed next him, screaming.

He’d had a few nightmares in his day. Seth went through a period of them after Jake and Molly were in a car accident that woke him nearly every night for a month. But this one took the cake. She was shrieking in

terror and it quickly turned to sobs as she realized the nightmare was her

reality.

“You’re okay, baby.” He murmured against her ear as she let him pull

her closer.

She turned to him, her eyes glistening in the afternoon sunlight that

was peeking in around the closed curtains. “He’s going to kill me.” There

wasn’t an ounce of inflection in her voice.

“No he’s not. That’s not going to happen.” He stroked the skin of her

back and she slowly stopped trembling and snuggled into him again.

“I’m going to call the officer who teaches the self-defense class I was talking about in a little while. Her class is on Tuesday nights at the Y. I’m going to see if she can either get you in tomorrow or make time for you

individually.”

“Can’t you just show me?”

“We seem to get sidetracked.” He tried to lighten her mood with a smile. “Besides, she has volunteers who wear protective gear so you actually get to practice hands on.” He smirked and she finally smiled.

“Because you’re afraid I’m going to hurt you?”

“I guarantee if I let you put your knee in my groin, you’ll put me on

the ground.” He kissed her. “How about we take a shower, make dinner

and I call Selena to see about her class?” She nodded and followed him to

the bathroom.

They stood under the hot jets and he held her against him, fighting with his body about whether to be aroused or not. It was impossible not

to. She was naked, after all, and he worshipped her incredible figure, for another. Flipping the off switch for his dick was just impossible in her presence but she didn’t mind his raging hard-on that was tight between

their bodies.

When he finally released her and turned to face the shower, she

reached around his waist and she pulled herself close to his back. She kissed along his skin as her fingers gently caressed his stomach and down farther to his hips and thighs. She was very intentionally ignoring

his erection but he wasn’t.

Her hands trailing so gently over his skin was not something his cock

could ignore and he stroked his length as her hands moved feather light

against his skin. When she finally let one hand work its way to his testicles and the other found his hand gripping his shaft, he groaned.

She laced her fingers with his against his dick as her other hand squeezed and worked his balls gently in her palm. They moved their fingers up and down his erection, taunting and torturing his arousal until

he was sucking in breaths of air, rapidly nearing his threshold. He came

as he braced himself against the shower wall with his free hand. She continued to stroke and palm him as he spasmed and pulsed through his

release.

She escaped quietly when he was recovering in the shower and he

found her downstairs raiding his kitchen shortly thereafter. He

discovered quickly that teaching wasn’t her only talent. She was quite an

impressive cook and after he let her have her way with his cupboards and fridge, she knocked out an incredible meal of white chili and soda bread.

“I want to talk to Seth about what’s going on.” He realized a bit too

late he wasn’t taking his own good advice by forgetting the statement should really be a question.

“He doesn’t need to know about all this.”

“No he doesn’t, but he does. He already knows something is going on

with you and he knows I am somehow involved. I’m not suggesting he

knows all the details or even most of them but I want to be able to have

you close—have you here and not have to make excuses.”

He could tell he wasn’t going to like her response even before she opened her mouth to say it. “When he gets back from spring break, I…”

She looked nearly nervous. “I don’t think I should stay here. I’m not even sure I should stay with Imogen.”

“What are you talking about?” He wasn’t appreciating a damn word

of what she was saying.

“I think I should stay in a hotel or find an apartment or…”

“No!” He didn’t mean to sound angry but he’d be damned if that

wasn’t exactly how he sounded.

“I’m afraid anyone around me could end up being in danger because

of me and I can’t…I can’t be responsible for that. I won’t have Seth in danger because of me, or Imogen for that matter. It’s bad enough I’m here running the risk that he figures out I’m here too, putting you in danger. What happens if he figures out who you are? What if he already

knows? He’s already seen you. I’ve already put you and Seth in danger.”

“You haven’t put anyone at risk. He has. This is his fault, Kat and you

can’t make yourself responsible.”

“No but I can sure as hell do what I can to protect the people I care

about! It doesn’t really matter whose fault it is. It would kill me if something happened to you or Imogen or God! Seth? No! How could I deal with that?”

“You can’t deal with this alone, Katrina!”

“I don’t see that I have a choice. I don’t have any other choice I can live with.”

“So what does that mean for us?”

She stared at him, swallowing harshly over a lump in her throat. He

really hadn’t intended on the conversation getting to this point. He wanted her to agree to move in but here she was threatening to pull them

apart because of this damn thing.

“I don’t know.” She suddenly couldn’t look at him. Their food was forgotten—their rather nice shower before dinner was gone now too.

This fucking head case wackjob was going to tear them apart and Dillon

wasn’t willing to accept that.

When there was suddenly a knock on the door, they both jumped.

Stephens strolled in the moment Dillon opened the door for him.

“Where’s your girlfriend?”

“Dining room. What’s up?”

“Well I’m a fucking messenger boy, don’t ya know?”

Stephens followed him to the dining room where Katrina was sitting

staring out the window. He hated the way things were between them at

the moment. It was starting to feel like a habit. They were riding some damn yo-yo thanks to the lunatic who was making it impossible for them

to just be a normal couple. Every aspect of this case somehow touched on

their relationship and tried to fuck it up.

Katrina finally looked up to Stephens. “Don’t you ever sleep, Marc?”

Marc? What the fuck is that about? Her voice sounded tired and exasperated.

“Nah. Who needs sleep? Tomorrow I’m going to take you over to

your house. The fire inspector and forensics are going through the scene

today and you’ll be able to see the damage tomorrow. I drove by earlier

and I’m warning you it’s a total loss. Smith and Terrell want you to meet

them there so I told them I’d bring you.”

“You can’t possibly have time to drive me around.”

He chuckled quietly as they looked at each other. She looked guilty and he looked oddly sympathetic. Dillon was just jealous. “I have all the

time in the world this week. I’m not on rotation until Adler’s back on the

clock Sunday night so I’m just following up on loose ends this week.”

“And what of Smith and Terrell? You’re taking a risk by shuttling Katrina around.” Dillon knew Stephens had mastered the art of either being rude enough to someone they gave up asking or simply refused to

answer questions that would incriminate him but it didn’t mean he

wasn’t endangering his own career by being involved.

Terrell might be his friend but Smith hardly was and if the chief found out, there’d be questions. Stephens’ dickhead approach would

only make things worse with Greenwood.

“Katrina and I have already talked about this and you don’t need to

worry about it.” Dillon’s eyes flashed to Kat, who was now sheepishly avoiding him. Dillon’s jealousy was ratcheting up with every passing word. What the fuck was Stephens doing talking to Kat instead of him about what was going on?

Dillon stood and walked to kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge.

He stood at the bar separating the kitchen from the dining room and he

watched them. Stephens sat at the end of the table and Katrina was

beside him. There was something odd about the casual and comfortable way they regarded each other and it left Dillon’s heart racing.

“I’m going to have to get to Imogen’s at least a couple times this week

to feed and water Kitty. And my car is in a parking garage. Maybe we should just get my car out. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about driving me. I could keep it in Dillon’s garage.”

“No.” Dillon snarled from his place at the same time Stephens

responded to her. Kat’s gaze caught on his quickly before returning to Stephens.

“No, Kat. You need to be seen as little as possible. He’s seen Dillon and that means it’s possible he knows who Dillon is, perhaps even where

he lives. It’s also possible he knows about Imogen and where her home is

as well. You don’t want to take the risk that he’s watching this house and

sees you leaving in your car. It makes it far too easy for him to follow you. He without doubt knows your car too and we don’t want him able

to follow you to Imogen’s. Even my driving you comes with risk. There’s

no perfect answer. Adler or I could meet you downtown and drive you

back from a parking garage. That way he couldn’t easily follow you back

here. We don’t want to give him any easy ways to follow you around. It’s

just a game to make it as difficult as possible for him to follow you or figure out where you’re at at any given moment.”

Dillon’s jaw was clenched tight as he listened. It wasn’t as if Stephens

wasn’t saying anything he didn’t already know but he was struggling.

He was angry at Kat for diminishing her importance to him.

He felt as though she were two seconds from walking out the door because she thought she was a danger to the people around her. He understood that but it also meant she was willing to walk out on him to

protect him and he couldn’t stomach that. Her easy regard for Stephens

wasn’t helping the situation and Dillon felt like a damn juvenile jealous

prick. He was an outsider at the moment and he didn’t like it—not with

her.

When his cell phone rang, he saw it was Selena. He’d left her a message earlier about the self-defense class and she was without doubt getting back to him about it.

“Hey Adler, so you’ve got someone you want in my class tomorrow

night?”

“Yeah, she’s a victim in an ongoing stalking case and I’d feel better if she was as prepared as she can be.” He had left the kitchen and was sitting on the stairs in the foyer with his beer in one hand and his phone

in the other.

He could hear Kat and Stephens talking easily in the dining room and

he had to force himself to focus on his conversation.

“Sure, but let’s do this. She can join the class tomorrow night. The class actually runs one night a week for an hour and a half for a month.

Tomorrow night is the second in our series but I could stay after and give

her a good condensed version of the whole series. I’ll see if Jeremy can stay as well to help. Maybe an extra two, two-and-half hours and we could cover the content one-on-one? Sound like a plan?”

“That’s great, Selena. I really appreciate it. Five o’clock tomorrow night, right?”

“Yeah and I’ll try to be done by nine.”

“Great. She’ll be there. Her name is Katrina Page.”

He disconnected quickly as he

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