Page 3 of Feel Me

I sit back in my chair and rub my jaw. “I don’t know if I can.”

Our youngest brother was sexually assaulted by a neighbor when he was ten. It screwed with his mind, and despite his jokes and his good days, those demons he buried deep came close to killing him. Yeah, we knew he was in trouble and tried to get him help. But we weren’t enough, and spent too many sleepless nights waiting for that call that told us he was gone. Finnie . . . he fought his way through it like the brawler he is. We thought we were going to be okay. But after what happened to Wren, it’s like all of us took a step back right into hell.

“Shit,” I mutter, leaning back in my office chair.

Nothing bad was supposed to happen to Finnie. He was the baby. The one who counted on us. And Wren, as the only girl in a family with seven kids, she was supposed to be safe from harm. But she wasn’t, even with six hulking brothers ready to step in if anyone tried to fuck with her.

With this new assignment?hearing stories like Finnie’s on a regular basis? Talking to women who’d been abused—God damn it. WrenandFinnie just barely survived, and the rest of us barely survived right along with them.

“I don’t think I can do this,” I say yet again.

“Deck, you have to, man.”

A knock to the door interrupts us. I know who it is before I even ask. “Come in,” I say, assuming my attorney pose because for now, I have to. For now, I’m a professional. Even if all the Philly boy in me wants to do is rage.

My boss, Miles Fenske walks in, followed by his daughter Melissa. Miles smiles warmly, nodding my way.

Mel? What can I say? She’s the one person who’s never been taken by my charm. Today’s no different. Unlike the other women who work here, from interns to attorneys, she doesn’t meet me with a grin, flash a little leg, or pretend to flirt. Her hair is brown and her eyes are almost as dark. Nothing extraordinary about her appearance, right?

Damn, I wish that were true. Her creamy skin makes her hair and eyes stand out, as if that killer hourglass figure isn’t enough. And don’t get me started on her lips. They look like they’ve been dipped in honey and soften her look further, despite her steel-hard exterior.

She walks in with her hips swinging, her bright red dress hugging her curves. With an unyielding stare she meets my eyes, giving nothing away, no matter how hard I’ve chipped at that armor.

Mel doesn’t like me. Not that I blame her considering the way I keep wrecking each rare moment we find ourselves alone. Of course, she has to be the one woman I can’t get out of my mind . . .

“How are you, Declan?” Miles asks.

I reply with a stiff nod rather than the grin I usually offer him. This is a man I admire the hell out of. Not just because of what he’s accomplished in the political arena and in the judicial circuit, but because he’s a good man. Not someonetryingto be good. Just someone who is, a rare entity in the circles we frequent.

Today that smile is not going to happen. Whether he meant to or not, the old man screwed me. Yesterday, when he called me into his office, I thought it was to tell me I would head Homicide or maybe White Collar. SACBU was not where I expected to land, ever.

“I’m well, Miles. And you?” I ask. Pissed or not, I won’t disrespect him, especially in front of his daughter.

“Fine. Thank you,” he responds. His deep voice is pleasant as always, but for some reason Melissa bristles. As her father looks to Curran and shakes his hand, my eyes trail to her.

“Mel,” I say, adding a subtle tilt of my chin. It’s not much of a greeting, but it’s more than she’s ever offered me. I don’t think she’s ever smiled in presence. But it’s not like I don’t deserve it. Hell, I still cringe when I think about the first time we met, and every moment that followed.

“Declan,” she replies. Her voice is clear enough to understand, but similar to those with significant hearing loss. Miles mentioned she learned to speak late in life, and that she articulates in the way she hears others. But her voice isn’t what gives me pause.

This is the first time she hasn’t addressed me by my title.

Miles laughs at something Curran says before Curran turns and lifts his hand. “Gotta run. See youz later.”

“Later, Curran,” I say. I keep my attention on Melissa, motioning for her and Miles to sit as I resume my professional pose.

Curran grins at Melissa. Before she can take a seat, he signs something I don’t understand. Whatever it is brings out a smile I’ve never managed to stir. She signs in return, her reply making him laugh out loud.

I don’t have to guess they’re talking about me, because that’s what they do. The hard stare I toss my brother’s way is enough to let him know today is not the day to piss me off. He winks and grins anyway since sometimes, no matter what, Curran could give a damn.

Miles waits for Curran to shut the door behind him before speaking. “So, from what I’ve gathered, SACU isn’t the unit you expected to lead,” he begins.

“No,” I agree. “Head of Homicide is the position I’ve always sought. You’ve known that since I was first sworn in.” I’m all about being professional. But professional doesn’t equate to pussy.

Melissa’s attention cuts to her father, every speck of her gorgeous face reflecting her disappointment. She knows SACU is the last place I want to be. It’s also the last place she wants me.

Miles maintains his pleasant demeanor, but he’s not a pussy either. “I want the best attorneys I have to run SACU and Homicide. That’s you and Zabrinski.” He considers me for a moment. “It’s only fair to tell you that for the time being, Zabrinski isn’t stepping down as Head of Homicide.”

None of this makes sense. Zabrinski’s been talking about retiring for as long as I’ve known him. He told me last week he’s putting his house on the market. As soon as it sells, he’s moving to Florida where he and his wife built a house along the coast. “Why?”

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