His eyes were blue, a pretty light blue that should’ve softened the hardness of his masculine face, but there was something in them, something cold and hard, that made them glitter and shine like a honed weapon, so sharp that they hurt to look at for too long. That beautiful gaze encased by lashes that were too long and feathery for such a hard and unyielding face could do all kinds of damage on its own without the dangerous threat of that strong body behind it. Titus was not a man that anyone would be foolish enough to take lightly, and everything about the way he looked transmitted the fact loud and clear.
He crossed his arms over his wide chest and I watched shamelessly as the muscles bulged. I shouldn’t be here, but while I was, I was going to admire the view.
“Long time no see, Detective.”
His scowl got even deeper and I saw the tick in his jaw move to a throbbing vein in his neck.
“We were never supposed to see each other again, Reeve. That’s what Witness Protection is all about. You’re supposed to be the federal marshal’s problem now.”
I shifted my weight from foot to foot and nodded my head slowly. “I know, but something came up, and I think you need to know about it.”
He swore under his breath and lifted his hands up to scrub them over the longer locks of hair that stood up straight on the top of his head. The wild hair and the look on his face almost made him appear feral. There was wildness in the man and I wondered if he even realized it.
“Look, Reeve.” He pushed off the desk and reached out a hand to put it on my shoulder. “You need to get in touch with the marshal in charge of your case. There’s been a leak. One of the witnesses that was picked up in the investigation into Novak and his crew was murdered last night. He had just flipped and the fed only had him in WITSEC for two months. Everyone on the case could be compromised, so you being here, back in the city, is a stupid move and far too risky.”
I sighed a little bit and moved around his massive frame so I could sit in one of the rickety chairs that lived across from his battered and cluttered desk. I rubbed my sweaty palms along the denim of my jeans and lifted my chin up, hoping he didn’t see the way it wanted to quiver.
“Hartman. Hartman was murdered last night.”
Murder was such an ugly word. Heavy and unpleasant whenever spoken aloud or even thought. The word was made up of pointy, sharp things that dug into my skin and made my breathing labored. It had the power to hurt, the power to change everything, and it had been haunting me, hanging around my neck like a stone locket for years and years.
Titus went tense, far tenser than he already was, and his mouth flattened into a brutal line.
“What?”
I had to look away. He was trying to spear me open with that glacial blue gaze and I didn’t want him anywhere near the squishy, soft center of the real me.
“I know Hartman was murdered last night and that’s why I’m here. I left WITSEC because I know who did it.”
The line of his mouth went from a flat line to a fierce frown that would have made a smarter woman get to her feet and leave. He moved so that he was hovering over me and dipped his head down so that I had no choice but to look directly into his probing gaze.
“What are you talking about, Reeve? Make it good because I’m about two seconds away from throwing you in lockup and ordering a Breathalyzer and a tox screen.”
I wasn’t drunk and I had never touched an illegal drug in my life. I rolled my eyes and moved the slippery fall of my hair over my shoulder. He tracked the move with narrowed eyes and finally took a step back. I breathed a silent sound of relief.
I could take a lot, but Titus might just be too much for me to handle. There was just so much of him to take in.
“I know about Hartman . . . come on, Detective, look at me.” I waited until his eyes met mine. “I wouldn’t give up a cushy spot in WITSEC and a perfectly manicured lawn in the suburbs, where people think my name is Jill Parker and where I have a job cutting hair for soccer moms at a strip mall, unless I had a reason to do it. I was safe, Titus. All I’ve ever wanted since the minute I handed over my soul to Novak was to be safe. I never in a million years would walk away from that . . . but here I am. The war for this city has just started and I know the traitor that fired the opening shots. You need me.”
He considered me for a long moment, the tension so thick it was taking up all the air in the tiny room. He didn’t want to believe me, didn’t want me to be here or to know what was going on and how it was tied to me, but there was no getting around the facts. I was telling the truth. He had the body and the blood to prove it. He fell back to lean against the desk and his thick eyebrows slammed down over his eyes in a scowl.
“Tell me what you know and then I’ll decide if I need you or not.”
He was gruff. He was rude. He was unflinching. I couldn’t blame him for any of that. The Point was under attack and the innocent and not so innocent were becoming casualties. If there was one thing a man like Titus didn’t like, it was casualties.
It was a long story, one he only knew the beginning of, and there were parts I didn’t want to tell him. Parts like the conclusion, where I had fallen for the traitor. I didn’t want to admit that I had been taken in by the general who fired the opening salvo in this battle mostly because on the surface that general reminded me so much of the imposing man in front of me right now.
Conner Roark had swooped in and offered me the one thing I had craved for longer than I could remember. Security. Safety. A shot at a life where words like murder didn’t have to dangle suffocatingly around my neck. All of that had been the cake and my sweet tooth started to ache, but the icing, the sugar fix that sent me into a full-on rush towards madness, was the fact that he was also tall, broad, had wavy dark hair, dreamy midnight eyes, and spoke with the softest Irish lilt I had ever heard. I couldn’t sign up for all of that fast enough and because it was attached to a man with a badge, a man that promised to uphold the law and do right because he had belief and conviction, I couldn’t tie my stupid heart up in a bow and give it away fast enough. Not that it was a gift many wanted.
Only Conner Roark was nothing like Titus King. No man was and I was a fool for ever thinking otherwise.
“The marshal that put me in WITSEC . . .” I had to look away. It was hard to admit how easily I had fallen for a cheap imitation of what I would never be able to have. The worst didn’t get the best and Titus was definitely the best man I had ever met. “Conner Roark. He’s as dirty as they come. He sent a man after Hartman once he was out of jail and in a safe house. He wanted Race Hartman to know that taking over where Novak left off is a bad idea.”