Page 68 of Twisted Hearts

Shawn

The woman gave me whiplash. Most nights we were together, she was laid-back, easygoing. She laughed easily and seemed to enjoy every part of her life. Other times, like this morning, she carried tension and stress in her shoulders and used her words like weapons.

She was in a shitty mood, I got that. Unfortunately, it didn’t help when the only thing I could think of to alleviate her bad mood was to toss her into bed and give her so many orgasms her bad moods were a distant memory.

That, however, would make me an ass. The mere fact that I kept considering it probably made me one. Unfortunately, get me within ten feet of this woman and it was my dick that was first to come up with our ideas.

Rarely, though, did I see her take charge like she’d just done. I got it—she was at work. Me bossing her around wasn’t the smartest idea, but I figured once she learnedwhyI’d been the one in a shitty mood, outside of needing to touch her but not knowing if it was wanted or desired, I hoped she’d understand.

It was less than a minute after I watched her duck out from behind the bar when Malcolm returned. As soon as I caught his attention before he moved under the bar back, I was on my way to his office. I found her there, pacing back and forth in the small room, hands wringing that towel she’d grabbed from her shoulder when I told her we needed to talk.

The door clicked closed behind me and she spun to face me. “What is it?”

“We have a picture.”

“A picture?” Her brows yanked close together. “Of what?”

“Jaxon sent your description of the guy who was at your dad’s house that day, the one we said we’d send to the sketch artist?”

“Oh.” Her lips formed a perfect circle as all the color rushed from her face, turning her as white as the walls behind her. “That picture.”

I grabbed my phone from my back pocket. Jaxon had sent it to me earlier. He wasn’t in the office, but as soon as he’d received the sketch, he had called and emailed me. As for me, I’d had an hour-long talk with Charlie, who was still trying to trace the financial records and coming up short every time. She thought she was closer to catching a break, but at this point she’d combed through so many accounts and paths of the money I was totally lost when she was trying to explain it. I gave up once I got the email from Jaxon.

Addi settled against the desk as if her legs were trembling and couldn’t hold her up. The part of me that wanted her wanted to wrap my arms around her, hold her close, and promise her again that I wouldn’t let anything or anyone hurt her. The part of me who had a job to do was trying to get that man to shut up for fifteen seconds.

This was why it was a horrible idea to get involved with clients. It ruined your ability to remain objective. Right now, this job wasn’t only ruining my objectivity, it was ruining everything I wanted to have happen between Addi and me.

“You ready?” I unlocked my phone and stared down at it while I pulled up the email. “If we need to make corrections, we can. And you can take your time.”

I glanced up at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was staring at my phone like it was a poisonous snake, ready to strike.

“Addi.” I quieted my voice. Her hands clung to the edge of the desk with such a white-knuckled grip I would have been surprised if she wasn’t cutting her palms with the sharp edge. I went to her, dropping my phone to my side and behind me so she couldn’t see it.

Once it was out of her view, she blinked and finally met my gaze. God, what I wouldn’t have given to be able to brush my fingertips over her cheeks, smooth out the hard lines, bring color and life back to her face. “Hey, it’s just a picture, and we don’t even know if it means anything—ifhemeans anything.”

“It does,” she croaked, voice dry and scratchy. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“Then once you look, we’ll finally be able to start figuring out what and who we’re dealing with. Okay? And I’m here, for whatever you need.”

She swallowed, and some of the color returned to her cheeks. She was so beautiful. The strength she showed in being able to push past her fear reminded me of the first night I saw her in that alley.

She’d been scared then but had a backbone and no problem dishing out sass when she needed to. Today she was missing her sass, but she blinked away her fear and held out her hand.

“Phone. I’m ready.”

I didn’t ask her if she was sure. She was a woman who knew her mind.

I unlocked my screen again and turned the phone around, holding it out. Once she slid it from my palm into her shaking hand, I took the spot next to her on the desk. Placing one hand behind her, I gave her my weight, my presence for comfort if she needed it.

“Okay.” She whispered it, more to herself than me, so I gave her the time she needed before she glanced down. Once she did, her jaw dropped and a shiver ran through her body. Goose bumps were visible on her arms, and the phone trembled in her hand. “That’s him. Almost exactly.” Her fingertip brushed over the screen. Her voice went tight, tinged with fear. “Even his eyes. They look as black and lifeless as the day I saw him. It’s so…freaky.”

“Sketch artists are good at that kind of thing. Anything you’d change?”

“No. It’s him for sure.”

She stared at it for several more moments, almost as if she was trying to memorize his face, and then her brows pulled in and she bit her bottom lip.

“What is it?”

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