Page 92 of Three
I climb back to the front seat, and after turning on the engine, I drive the hell out there.
“Serena, take care of the cameras in the parking lot. And track Opal Penn’s phone.” Ramiel moves to the passenger seat and then turns to me. “Your cousin, any reason she’d want to kill you? Jealousy? Anger?”
“No!” I vehemently state.
“She was Cal’s sister,” he insists.
“She’d never do something like this.”I refuse to believe that.“She’s a good cop. The only person who kept in contact with me while I was inside.” The angry confession escapes my lips and tastes bitter on my tongue. Even more so when I catch Ramiel’s sorrowful eyes.
“I… Okay. Maybe the hitman hacked her phone and heard your conversation.” He doesn’t sound convinced though. After a few seconds he says, “I need to see that letter Malcom sent you. Do you still have it?”
I nod. “It’s not Opal.”
The call she made yesterday, after the gun warehouse shooting, comes back to me. The way she asked me if I was okay, like she knew something happened. Did she sound worried or surprised?
“I cannot track Opal Penn’s phone. It’s turned off. Looking for her car now.”
“Thanks, Serena.”
“It can’t be.” Doubts are trying to drown me. “It can’t be like Cal. I know Opal. I know her.” It can’t be.
Ramiel’s warm hand suddenly closes around my arm. “Hunter, stop. We don’t know what happened. There are other avenues we can follow. We need to check Jasper as well.”
“I met him a few days ago with Opal. We’ve never been close. We can barely stand each other. After Cal's death and my visit to the joint, even less.” I feel so fucking hollow. Is my whole family bad? Am I bad as well?
“I bet. He’s running for senator, right?”
“Yes.” I park the Jeep in front of my house and quickly get out. The car looks like a colander. The side windows a step from shattered.
We were so damn lucky. A few minutes more and… What if Ramiel was hit a few inches up his neck? Fear like I’ve never felt before rushes inside my chest like a swarm of beetles, making it impossible to breathe. I’ve seen the worst happen too many times to keep a positive attitude.
I turn toward him, focusing on his worried face. Coppery lashes frame those beautiful golden eyes, his pale cheeks are peppered with small freckles, and his pink lips are slightly parted. And my lungs expand with air again.
“We need to get inside and disinfect your wound,” I get out between gritted teeth.
“I’m fine. We need to find who’s behind this.” I get a quick glance of Ramiel’s eyes as we enter my silent house. They are gleaming with fire.
“And you think it is a member of my family?” I almost attack him. My voice comes out too rough and accusing. Emotions are riding me hard again.
The boys are sleeping in the barn tonight to keep an eye on the rescue animals that arrived today. The light turns on without me touching the entrance switch. Maple lifts his head from his rug near the sofa and wiggles his tail when he sees me, but stays where he is.
“I don’t know! You’re a P.I., wouldn’t you do the same? Check all the possible leads?” He stops, and I see the worry filling his face again, the tension in his body.
I walk to him and pull him against my chest. My life is falling apart again, but he’s still here. With me. He didn’t leave me. Never did. Even stalked me. All the fight leaves my body. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Do all the checks you want, Red.”
“You heard him, Serena.” His arms lift around my back. “It’s what I do for my family. I need to do it for you as well. I need you to be okay.”
I kiss his head, taking in his soothing scent. “I just… I fucking hate this. I thought that part of my past was done.” Haven’t I paid enough for it already?
I let him go and walk to the bathroom to retrieve the essentials to clean his wound. “Sit.”
I grab a bowl from the kitchen cabinet and fill it with water while he takes off the torn shirt. I can’t help appreciating the expanse of his chest and powerful biceps for a moment. But the caked blood on his shoulder reminds me of my task.
“You’re such a papa bear…it does sting like a bitch. Ouch!” He tilts his head to get a better look at the scratch, stretching and flexing his ripped abdomen and curvy pecs.
“Miss your numbness?” I can’t stop myself from asking as I set the bowl on the table and use a wet piece of cloth to start cleaning.
“Fuck no!” He jerks away, and I lift a quizzical brow at him. “Uhhh, cold! Sorry, still getting used to…feeling. But I’d prefer to turn hypersensitive if it meant still sensing your warm, smooth chocolate skin next to mine when I wake up.”
