Page 17 of Forbidden Need

Hadn’t she been thinking the previous night how she didn’t want to use him for his connections? This would be the antithesis of that. She’d figured out plenty before getting involved with Connel McDade. Her burden wasn’t his. Her drive was overwhelming. She needed to see this through. That meant not dealing with the complication of her heartache and sex drive at the same time.

Her head must’ve returned to the fog zone because they were suddenly there, stopped, the driver asking for a fare. Imogen took care of it, and they went up into the building where she hoped to find some real support.

She knocked, but Imogen caught up and opened the door to go straight inside without waiting for an answer.

Strat was already partway down the hall. “Im—” he started, then noticed her.

“I know I’m supposed to call first.”

“Fuck that, Scamp,” he said, putting an arm around Imogen as he passed, hooking her into the embrace he snatched her into as well.

Being there, in their three-way hug, offered a chance to sag. To sink into the grief.

Before it could drag her under, she pulled away. “I’m okay.”

“Have you called—” Strat paused to look at his daughter.

“Jagg?” Imogen asked, assuming her father’s question was meant for her. “You can say his name. You’ve known it his whole life.”

“You could call your brother.”

“Yeah, I could,” Imogen said, striding into the living room, dumping her purse on the counter on the way past. “Or I could call my boyfriend.”

“So that’s it?” Strat asked.

“That’s it what?” Imogen asked. “Are we together? Yes, we’re together. Which should make you happier than if he’d just fucked me for fun.”

Strat held up a hand. “Okay, we’re not talking about this.”

“That’s your answer to everything,” Imogen said, appealing to the heavens. “Why won’t these idiots talk to each other?”

“What the fuck you want us to talk about?” Strat asked. “How he’s a traitorous, lying sonofa—”

“What did he lie about? Huh?”

“Maybe that all those years I thought you were safe with him, he was looking for ways to bone my little girl?”

“No, Daddy,” Imogen said, spitting the word. “He didn’t know this existed any more than I did. We didn’t plan it.” But she showed her father a hand and turned her back. “We’re going in circles. It’s always the same thing.” She whirled back around. “Why can’t you accept he makes me happy? Why can’t you appreciate he loves me?”

“The cop loved you too.”

“And you loved to make your little jibes about him as well,” Imogen said and thrust out an arm. “Today isn’t about us and our messes.”

Strat turned to her at the mouth of the hallway. “I’m sorry, Scamp.”

“It’s okay,” she said. “Love is messy. Family, romantic, sexual, in whatever form, it’s rarely straightforward.”

“Yeah, but we shouldn’t be talking about our crap.”

“The only support I can give is of the corny kind,” she said. “Appreciate each other while you have the chance.”

“She’s right.” Imogen sighed. “I’ve seen too much loss recently. People can lose those they love in a heartbeat. We shouldn’t take it for granted.”

“Do you know what happened?” Strat asked.

She smiled at Imogen. “Not yet. But I will and I’m hoping you can help.”

“Anything.”

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