in my head … that the suspect was a surrogate or worse, was playing me.”
“I was there,” Delilah whispers, his gaze turning to the sweet liquid in the wineglass. She runs her finger around the rim of it. “You never told me.”
“I didn’t tell anyone,” I say and my excuse sounds just like what it is. An excuse. Her small hand is gentle as she rests it on my thigh and rubs back and forth in a soothing motion. Her lips part but she doesn’t say anything. Neither of us does for a moment until she takes a sip of wine and then leans closer to me.
“You were hurting, you were scared and didn’t know who you could trust or if what you were doing was the right thing.” She adds to my excuses, my reasoning for going along with it back then.
“Maybe it worked like that at first. But then … he’d … he’d set people up to go down and give me leads on them.”
“You worked together?” she asks and I nod. The truth is begging to be spoken aloud finally. All those cold cases. All those men who disappeared. I knew it was coming. I knew Marcus wanted to interfere and I let it happen.
Instead of bringing any of that to light, I lift my beer to my lips and take a swig.
“I should have told you.” I nod my head, agreeing with myself. “We were partners.”
“I could have told our superiors. It sounds crazy, Cody. You sound crazy even now when … when I believe you,” Delilah says and glances at her wine, then back at me. Her plump lips are a dark shade of red that complements her warm umber skin.
It hurts to watch her, knowing she’s conflicted and that she’s hiding from me. She doesn’t know I know. I can see how much it kills her. Every time she slips beside me, letting her gentle soul be seen, she pulls back, stares at her wine and the sadness overwhelms her.
It’s not fair to her that it happened this way.
“I was afraid to trust him at first …” I trail off, remembering the instincts pulling me in all directions. She’s got to be going through the same. I can be there for her, though.
An older man rises beside us, making his way to the back probably to relieve himself. With him gone, there’s no one surrounding us. The place is only half-full and most of the people are at the other end of the bar where the flat screens are playing football.
“I know … I know he kissed you.” I let the confession slip out without looking back at her. Even though I can feel her gaze pierce into me, begging me to look back at her, I continue, wanting to get it all out so we can start over. So we can start fresh now with no secrets or lies between us. “I know he traded … he plays games …” I suspected something was up when I started to receive fewer texts from him, but the ones from two days ago when she never texted and her father was found dead spelled out everything.
He was with her, protecting her and he didn’t want me to worry.
It’s like stepping into an ice bath remembering the message he sent. If I hadn’t been stopped at that red light, I swear to God I would have crashed.
“That’s why you backed away from me?” I ask her, finally taking a peek down at Delilah and finding those big brown eyes staring up at me. They’re bathed in insecurity and begging for forgiveness.
Her lips are parted and her breathing is staggered.
“It’s because he stepped in, not because of something I did?” Even as I speak the last part, I know that’s not all true. It’s because he told her first. I should have told her. The moment I wanted her in my bed every night. The moment he came into my place and scared her. I should have told her everything.
“Cody,” she whispers, emotion drenching my name.
“I can deal with that. As long as you still want me,” I admit to her and feel the ache of needing her, truly and deeply needing her to forgive me and care for me again. I waited so long to make a move and it’s because of my brother. The way he spoke about her … I thought he wanted her and if I kissed her …