Page 21 of Ruthless Beast

“How long did you and David know each other?”

Something in Lucas’ eyes shifts as a result of my question. I find it a little harder to read him now. Is he sad?

“David and I met about four years ago. He was a great guy. I’m sorry he’s gone. I miss him.”

Lucas’ heartfelt sentiment seems genuine. It makes me feel closer to him. I suppose the fact that he knew and loved David is comforting to me.

“Yeah. It’s been difficult. My brother’s death has left a gaping hole in my life.”

“Do the police have any suspects yet?”

“No. Not a clue. It’s so infuriating. I feel so helpless. At least I could get answers if I knew where to look. But I have no idea who killed David or why. I don’t know if we’ll ever know.”

Lucas reaches across the table and places his hand over mine. His skin is warm, and the simple kindness sparks inside me an intense desire for him. The chemistry between us is electric. Corny, but unmistakably genuine.

“I’m here for you, Emily. I know I can never replace your brother, but please know that I will do anything to protect you,” he says while looking deeply into my eyes.

“Thank you, Lucas.”

“Could I interest you in dessert?” the waiter suddenly asks, shattering the intense moment Lucas and I are caught in.

Damn it!

“Gelato?” Lucas smiles.

“Yum,” I grin.

“Chocolate?” suggests the waiter.

“Is there any other kind?” I chuckle.

“Two, please!" Lucas laughs.

* * *

It takes all manner of self restraint not to wrap myself around Lucas’ beautiful body like a pretzel at the end of the evening. We say our goodbyes, and soon I’m on my way back home, fantasizing about having crazy sex with him.

Dannie is still out with friends when I get home. I notice something on the floor once I unlock the front door. It’s a business card. I read it once I’ve switched on the light.

It’s Detective Cox’s card. He wrote on the back.

Hi, Emily.

Please call me when you get this. Thanks.

I check my watch. It’s just after 11 p.m. I wonder if he’s still up. I’m wide awake. Even more so now, so I dial his number and wait while the phone rings.

“Detective Cox.”

“Hi, Detective. It’s Emily Thornton.”

“Hello, Emily. Thank you for calling me.”

“Do you have news about David? Have you arrested a suspect?”

“No, not yet, I’m afraid.”

“I see,” I say, my words dripping with disappointment and irritation.

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