Page 80 of Shephard

I thought through my options, weighing them carefully. If she really had absconded with information that could ruin him, it could mean the end of Jameson’s reign. But if she was discovered as the one leaking it, her forward behavior could haunt her forever.

Daunting but doable.

Maybe.

Denise wasn’t the kind of woman to let her guard down or to admit she needed someone in her corner. However, I had no intention of allowing her to continue thwarting my attempts to help. The jealousy I’d felt in the bar was nothing in comparison to the murderous need that continued to furrow inside my chest. Jameson Reynolds had pressed the wrong buttons. He’d invoked the kind of rage I hadn’t experienced in a long time.

That wasn’t good for his health or well-being.

I didn’t tell her that her ex had also been involved in a reckless driving situation where his passenger had died because of his carelessness. Or that payoffs more like extortion had been used to shove it under the rug. There was no need to go over the man’s life story, at least with her. He’d had a get out of jail free card.I’d read the single article where a reporter had dared comment on seeing bruises on her. Another issue that had been squelched, but I’d found it.

Jameson was lucky to be alive.

The truth was that I didn’t just crave this woman.

I needed her.

I needed to taste her on my lips, feel her tight pussy around my cock.

I needed to lick every inch of her body until she issued the strangled moan I’d grown to love.

But even more gut-wrenching was the fact I wanted to keep her locked away from the world, a prized gift that I could unwrap at the end of a long day.

I wasn’t certain what that said about me, but she’d sparked something I long thought dead inside. The fact I didn’t do relationships or second dates ever seemed irrelevant at this point. We’d passed that stage. Not that I knew what to call what we were sharing. What I’d found more interesting than me asking her to come invade my private space was that she’d agreed after I’d made it a statement of fact.

Not a single woman in my life had been inside a place where I’d lived. Not one. There was nothing to be embarrassed about since I didn’t own anything that was worthwhile. That didn’t change facts. She’d said nothing on the ride over to my house, but she hadn’t fought me either. I sensed she was deep in thought and insisted on taking her laptop with her.

I’d seen the whiteboard. I’d asked her basic questions while reading the colorful notes. The woman had a true handle on the case. And it had sparked something else deep within me.

I knew who was behind the murders. I also had put the pieces together of the very first call my father had made to me now ages ago.

Three months.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was right, but I was fairly certain a lure had been set in motion. I needed to get my hands on information about the bodies. The one we’d found on the mountain had been beaten pretty badly, no chance of checking the body for any identifying marks. If the murders were about revenge, I’d already put together a formulation of who could be next on the hit list.

Why draw them here other than to set a final game in motion?

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel and she glanced over, the darkness unable to hide her apprehension.

“He won’t stop, you know. Jameson is up to something,” she offered.

I pulled into my driveway, chuckling more darkly than I should given the situation. “Do you really have incriminating information on the man?”

She didn’t hesitate or stutter. “Shit that could bring down his entire family and there would be no way to challenge what I have. No way to gloss it over.”

“How did you get it?”

Now she laughed. “The old-fashioned way. Stealing.”

“My kind of girl.”

She was supposed to be off the case. I’d known better. She was as tenacious as I was, maybe even more so. I liked that about her, but it was also the one thing that would keep her in hot water or worse.

I knew when to stop.

Except around her.

“We will talk. I need to see what you have so I know how to handle the jerk,” I told her as I parked.