Page 83 of Feel Me

I feather kisses along her throat. But when I reach her mouth, I freeze in place.

Tears stream down her cheeks in small, thin rivers.

I cup her face, carefully wiping her warm skin with my thumbs. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

She shakes her head. “No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” she answers quietly.

I search her face. “What is it, baby?” I ask, hating the way she pulls away from me.

Her chest rises and falls like she’s trying not to break down. “I just really love you, Declan,” she whispers.

It’s what she says. And I believe her. But the more I take her in, the more she seems regret it.

My cell phone ringing wakes me from a sound sleep. I reach for it where it’s perched on my nightstand, trying not to disturb Mel tucked against me.

We’ve only been asleep for a few hours, but my movements stir her awake. She lifts her head from my chest. “What’s wrong, love?” she asks.

I look at who’s calling. “It’s Curran,” I say, my voice hoarse with exhaustion. It’s not quite nine, and we were up all night, but I can’t help my smile. “I bet Tess is in labor.”

“Hey, man,” I say, answering the phone. “Am I an uncle, again?”

“Declan, it’s me,” Tess says, her voice unusually morose. “I have some bad news.”

I push up in bed, suddenly awake. “Are you okay?is Curran all right?”

“We’re fine.” Her voice breaks. “It’s Rosana, the victim in the Iker Escobar case. She’s dead, Declan. Iker killed her.”

CHAPTER 22

Melissa

Declan leans back into his office chair, rubbing his jaw as if it will somehow remove the ire cloaking him like death itself.

“Tell me what happened,” he says.

Chief Lee and Detective Melo exchange glances from where they’re seated in front of Declan. Like me, they sense his anger. But they’re doing a better job of masking their fury. Declan . . . my God. If I didn’t know him, I wouldn’t dare approach him right now.

“Escobar was being transferred to a different jail because of threats against him by the other inmates,” the chief answers. “Based on your reputation and your unwillingness to plea bargain, he knew he was headed to prison. He and three other transfers overpowered the guards and escaped. The other three headed south and away from the city.”

“But not Escobar,” Declan finishes for him.

The chief doesn’t speak. Not right away. When he does, it takes all I have not to cry. “No. He went to the victim’s house and killed her.”

“How’d he do it?” Declan asks, his stare drilling a hole into the picture Rosana drew of him.

“He choked her with his bare hands,” Chief Lee answers. He’s been in law enforcement for decades, witnessing the evil people are capable of firsthand. But behind his jaded stare, I see it. The sadness we all feel when someone this young and innocent dies.

Brenda, my victim services worker on call can’t take it. She breaks down, sobbing into her hands, her cries the only sound in the room.

I put my arm around her. I want to cry with her. But if I start, I won’t stop.

Rosana, a sweet kid with an even sweeter smile and a gift for art, who had a horrible life that no one deserveddiedin a way no one deserves. Life is so unbearably cruel.

“Come on,” I whisper to Brenda, helping her to her feet.

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