Edge of Sight
“Anyway, I didn’t go back to advertising, and right now I work as a waitress because in September I’m starting law school,” she added softly.
“Law school?” He couldn’t feign indifference to that.
“I guess Vivi never told you.”
More like he’d refused to ask. “And here I thought it would take an act of God to get you off the corporate career ladder.”
“It did,” she said simply. “Getting Billy Shawkins out of jail was nothing less than a miracle, and the whole thing changed my life and my ambitions. It consumed me, and really opened up my eyes to some injustices. I want to work for the Innocence Mission after I get out of law school.”
“Well, good for you for finding… your passion.” He sounded like an idiot. He took the beer she’d put on the table. He sounded like an idiot who knew squat about passion. “Where are you going to school?” he asked right before taking a swig.
She hesitated a nanosecond, then smiled. “Harvard.”
He choked, the beer trapped in his throat.
She laughed softly. “You don’t have to be that shocked. Although, I admit, I applied on a lark and still can’t believe I got in. I’m sure the work with Billy made the difference.”
“You’re going to Harvard.” It was like a steel-toed boot in his belly. Harvard Fucking Law School. She was amazing. But then, he’d known that three years ago. He’d known that after the first night they were together. She was amazing and deserved… more than he could offer. “That’s…” Harvard. “Wow. Really, good for you.”
She nodded thanks. “Anyway, I made that mistake once, identifying the wrong suspect. Although, I do try to learn from my mistakes,” she added, this time the sarcasm unmistakable. “And I try not to repeat them. As far as Billy, well, I was responsible for ten years of his life spent behind bars. But, now, he’s one of my closest friends.”
Man, this girl was full of surprises. He sipped the beer, swallowing, saying nothing. What could he say? She’d put her life together pretty damn fine without him, as he knew she would. Hit her bumps, and triumphed. Found her passion and…
Well, at least she wasn’t married. That might have been too much to take. But she would be, soon enough. Probably had some lawyer boyfriend already. Although, wouldn’t she be with him tonight?
“I’m really proud of—”
“You should be,” he cut her off.
“Of Billy,” she finished. “He’s a model citizen who’s found Jesus, lives in Roxbury with a lovely woman, and holds a steady job at a paint factory up in Revere.”
Remorse gnawed at his gut. He’d missed all these changes in her. She’d done all that while he was on mission after mission after mission, blowing up caves and tracking down terrorists and avoiding IEDs and getting half his window to the world gouged by shrapnel. And still fucking up the operation and costing lives.
“But now,” she continued, “I have zero credibility as an eyewitness. So the cops aren’t telling me anything, they’re not offering protection, and they’re leaving me to find answers on my own.”
“Which brings you to Vivi.” Who still hadn’t called.
“Well, like you said, she’s covering the story. And if anyone knows how to get answers, it’s Vivi.”
“Don’t these Innocence Mission people? They don’t have investigators?” Is one of them your boyfriend?
“They have lawyers, mostly,” she said. “And I’ve considered asking for help, but I’m just not sure I want anyone to know what I know. The cops are adamant about not telling anyone I witnessed the crime. So if I did, it might put someone I care about in danger. Believe me, I wasn’t sure I should come to Vivi, but I was desperate for information and she’s so connected.”
“Why don’t you just go underground until the police solve the crime? Will they let you leave?”
“No. I thought about going down to Florida to stay with my parents, but the police said I have to do some lineups.” She shifted in her seat. “I can’t tell you how much I don’t want to do that again.”
The cat’s ears suddenly perked and he jumped from the sofa and mewed, swamping Zach with some measure of relief. “Vivi’s home.”
“Are you sure it’s her?” She looked toward the hallway.
“Fat Tony wouldn’t jump like that.” He pushed up, walking around the coffee table to crouch in front of her. “Look, relax. If it’s not Vivi and someone else opens that front door, I’ll kill them.”
She stared at him, scrutinizing, and he forced himself to stay still. He’d endured worse. She had to get a good look at him sometime.
Slowly, she lifted her hand, her fingers warm as they neared his cheek, his scar. He could feel the heat of her palm getting closer, making his heart thud against his ribs. An inch from his skin. A centimeter.
“How did this happen?”
“Sheer stupidity and the mistaken belief that I am invincible.”
“You’re still alive.”
Barely. This close to her and unable to do what every cell in his body wanted to do? He might as well be dead. “Yeah, pulse is on,” he said. “Beats the alternative.”
She laid her hand on his face, like satin on burning ember.
“Oh, my God!”
They both jumped at the sound of Vivi’s voice. Zach stood, eyeing his twin sister’s silhouette in the door.
“Samantha Fairchild!” Vivi exploded into the room, her skateboard banging to the floor as she launched toward Sam, arms wide. “Holy crap, it’s good to see you. Why don’t you answer your phone, woman? I’ve been trying to track you down.”
“Well, I’m right here, looking for you. And your phone is here, by the way.”
“I know, I left it, like a moron.” She folded Sam into her arms and looked up at Zach, her eyes shining. “And look who you found.” She winked at Zach.
He stepped back as they hugged, unconsciously touching his face. His fingers traced the jagged hollow of the scar that ran from his cheekbone almost to his lip.
Sam was a different woman on the inside, and he was obviously different on the outside. Somehow, that changed everything… except the way he felt about her.
CHAPTER 6
Warm breath. Hot tongue. Sweet kiss.
Zach.
“Tony!” Sam rolled away from the cat bath, sliding off the sofa and pulling the comforter with her. She reached out to grab the cover, shaking off sleep but not the vivid dream.
“Sorry about that.” Vivi padded into the living room in bare feet, her ebony hair shooting in twelve different directions, a wisp of a tank top hanging on narrow shoulders, boxer shorts rolled down to within an inch of her pelvic bone. “He’s looking for morning love.”
While Sam was obviously dreaming about it.
Swiping a hand through her spikes, Vivi slid into the club chair and folded her legs under her. “Did you sleep? I didn’t sleep. Who could sleep?”
“Actually, for the first time in a week, I conked. Thanks for letting me stay.”
“Pah!” She flicked her hand. “As if I’d let you go. Or Zach would have.”
Sam didn’t answer, letting the words hang in the air. Zach hadn’t exactly insisted she stay. He’d been indifferent. It was Vivi who made the bed and fussed over her, dragging the conversation about the murder and the investigation late into the morning, ending up with more questions than answers.
The silence lasted a beat too long, and Vivi launched herself out of the chair. “Need caffeine, stat. You want some?”
“Sure, if you’re making it.”
While Vivi went into the kitchen, Sam headed into the hallway bathroom, her gaze drawn to a small leather bag open on the toilet tank, a razor and toothbrush angled out from the top. Unable to resist, she brushed her hand over the case, a shiver threatening at the intimacy of touching Zach’s personal items. The razor tipped back in, revealing more of the contents. Toothpaste. Deodorant. Condoms.
She stared at the packets, a bolt of shimmering clear memory cracking
through her. God, they’d gone through a lot of those things in three weeks.
Closing her eyes, she flipped the cold-water faucet and bent over the sink. The night they met, at a party right here in Vivi’s apartment, he’d followed her into this bathroom when she’d gone to refresh her lipstick. She didn’t need new lipstick, she recalled vividly. She just knew he’d follow. They’d been flirting, laughing, touching, brushing up against each other in a mating tango that had to culminate with a kiss.
She glanced at the wall next to the shower. That kiss had happened right there, and any lipstick she’d had on was toast. He’d dived right in, taking ownership of her mouth, unable to stop his hands from roaming up and down, his tongue from tangling with hers.
That kiss. That first endless, dizzying, warm, wet kiss that went on so long Vivi pounded on the door and yelled “get a room.” They did. That spare room right down the hall, where they’d laughed and talked and touched and…
She turned back to the sink and splashed some more, cursing the little wobble in her knees.
Yes, that was the best sex she’d ever had and probably ever would have. Just remembering it had an effect on her. But the pain of never hearing from him again… no, thank you. That price was too, too high.
Water dribbled down her neck and into her T-shirt, chilling her skin. She popped up, sucking in a loud gasp when she saw Zach in the mirror behind her. Bare-chested, scowling, his hair a tousled black mess curling down to his shoulders, the black leather eye patch like a shield from eyebrow to cheekbone.
“Jeez. How about knocking?”
He yanked a towel from a rack and handed it to her. “You left the door open.”
“I did not.” She buried her face in the terry cloth, getting sensory overload from the smell of his soap in the towel.
“Sorry, but you did.”
She handed the towel back to him, the tiny space and his proximity making her lungs ache for more air. “You still could have knocked.”
“I didn’t want to interrupt the DOP kit inspection.”
Damn him. She gestured for him to move aside so she could leave. “I just wanted to borrow your toothpaste.” She gave him a completely fake, fast smile, then tried to shoot by, but he snagged the sleeve of her T-shirt.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
As far away from the swirling purple tattoo above his heart as possible. That was new, too. “To the kitchen.”
“And nowhere else.”
She drew back. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious, Sam. You don’t leave this apartment alone.”
“I’m not stupid, Zach.” She yanked her sleeve from his fingertips.
“I’ll take you home, or to work, wherever you need to go.”
Him and his bag of condoms. “No thanks.”
“I’m not asking for thanks. I’m not even asking permission. You can’t go running around Boston alone.”
She closed her eyes, the reality of that kicking her hard. She had no intention of running around Boston, but the fact was she needed some protection, or a really good hiding place. Or both. “Vivi and I will talk about it and figure something out. You don’t have to be involved.”
“I am involved.” His expression was dark and serious, so different from the man she’d just been remembering. The man she’d made out with like a lovestruck teenager three years ago had so much fire and life, he was intense and sharp-witted and opinionated and brilliant. Had the injury changed him that much? Was he cold and serious on the inside now, too?
“You’re staring,” he said.
“I’m wondering.”
He shook his head. “Don’t bother. It’s classified and I wouldn’t talk about it even if it weren’t.”
“I didn’t mean that. I’m wondering why you’re so different from what you used to be.”
He drew back, caught slightly off guard, then instantly copped the blank expression again. “We’re both different,” he said simply.
“I’m not different.”
“Yes, you are. You’re a Harvard lawyer with a mission and a new focus.”
She laughed softly. “First of all, I haven’t even started school yet, so, to be fair, I’m currently an unemployed waitress. Second, having a mission hasn’t changed me. I have the same personality, the same character traits, the same…” Hot, sweet, melting feeling inside when you’re this close. “I haven’t changed. You have.”
“How?”
“Your hair is long.”
He shrugged. “Nice not to have to buzz every week.”
“You have…” Her gaze dropped to the deep purple ink on his chest, the barbed wire on his bicep. “More tattoos.”
“One for every tour of duty. Anything else?”
Did he want her to point it out? Fine. “You used to be much nicer.”
A smile threatened. “Not really.”
“Oh? That was an act? For sex?”
“Don’t say that.”
The truth hurt, didn’t it? “You know what, Zach? I can do and say whatever I damn well please without a single word, comment, piece of advice, or even so much as a fucking postcard from you, which, by the way, I’ve managed to do really well without for three years.”
His smile broadened to a teasing grin. “That postcard thing is really killing you, isn’t it?”
“Ahem.” Vivi tapped a spoon against a coffee mug. “Sorry to break up this cheery little reunion, but I’ve got an appointment soon. Sam, do you take milk and sugar in your coffee still?”
“Of course.” Sam finally got by him, skewering him with one last look. “Why would I be any different?”
She walked out without seeing his response, and the bathroom door slammed behind her.
Vivi made an apologetic face. “I keep stepping in on you two at the wrong moment.”
“There is no us two, and there is no right moment.”
Vivi gave her a nudge toward the kitchen. “Come and talk to me.”
Sam followed the aroma of coffee, settling into one of the two kitchen chairs with an exhale. “God, that guy gets to me.”
Vivi chuckled as she poured milk into two mugs. “Always did, always will. You two are like fire and… fire.”
Sam stabbed her fingers through her hair, pulling it all back as if she could just yank him out of her head. “Why am I even letting him get to me? He’s just some guy I had a fling with.”
“He’s not just some guy.” Vivi’s voice tightened. “He’s my twin brother. And as you know, we’ve been through some shit together in our lives, so I’m not going to sit here and bash him anymore than I did when we got orphaned in Italy and moved in with our American cousins and they would talk trash about the bad boy he was.”
“I’m sorry, Vivi. I know you love him, and we both know that’s the reason our friendship has dissolved over the past three years.” Sam shook her head, regretting the decision to come here last night. “And, to be honest, if I had known he was here, I would never have called you.”
“Well that’s just sad.” Vivi set a creamy, steamy cup in front of her with enough force to make a small coffee wave. “Because I’ve missed you.”
Sam took the mug and closed her fingers around the ceramic, smiling at the woman across from her. They’d been good friends when she lived in this building. Different personalities, but they’d met in the elevator the day Sam moved in, and the connection was instant and real. They laughed a lot, killed plenty of bottles of wine, and loved to shop together. And then Vivi’s twin brother was home from the war… and she threw a party for him. Sam’s life changed the minute he opened that front door, a big, bad, sexy Army Ranger who called her Sammi.
No one had ever called her that before or since.
“I’ve missed you, too,” she admitted, knowing that in her heart she was missing that man just as much. She took a sip to wash away that thought and leveled her gaze at her friend. “And I’m not going to lie and tell you’ve I’ve been too busy to call because you’ve nev
er responded well to bullshit.”
That got her a classic Vivi Angelino grin, baring an ever-so-slightly chipped front tooth and crinkling her espresso eyes. “Then let’s avoid bullshit,” she said. “Because there’s enough crap flying in this apartment today.”
“I’m sorry, Viv,” she said, relieved to finally be saying these things. “It was easier just to avoid you than face the fact that you knew where he was and what he was doing… and why he didn’t ever contact me.”
“I really didn’t know most of the time, because he was deep in some seriously classified crap over there. And I don’t know why he never contacted you, because, I swear on my mother’s grave, he never told me.”
“He’s ashamed to admit why he’d been with me in the first place; that’s why he didn’t tell you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Come on, Vivi, we both know what I was to him. Nothing more than an ‘I could die tomorrow so I better fuck my brains out tonight’ hookup.”
Vivi cringed a little. “Way to underestimate yourself, Sam.”
“Just calling it like I see it. It was intense, and believe me, we both enjoyed it. But it…” Meant so much more to her than it did to him. “He hurt me,” she said simply. “And being around him reminds me of that. And being around you reminds me of that, too.”
Vivi nodded. “I know. I knew it when you moved out of this building.”
“Well, I had to move when I quit advertising. Somerville’s cheaper.” Still, she could have stayed in touch with Vivi, but it was so much better to let the Charles River come between them. They ran into each other a few times, had a couple of awkward calls, then in the past nine or ten months, nothing.
“I really do understand,” Vivi said softly. “So you don’t need to apologize anymore.”
Sam turned the cup in her hands. “When did his injury happen?”
“About a year ago.” Vivi shot a look at the hallway, then crossed her arms, bracing herself at the edge of the table. “He wouldn’t let me tell you.”