T.J. wasn’t laughing anymore, but he seemed strangely calm. His fist slammed into Oliver’s chin, whirling him around. But before the pain could fully register, something pierced Oliver’s back. The forward thrust sent him tumbling over the toilet.
“That’s from Vic,” T.J. told him, and suddenly Oliver understood. T.J. had provoked him on purpose. He’d needed this to get his adrenaline flowing, make it easier to do Vic’s dirty work.
It was one of the worst betrayals Oliver had ever suffered—because he hadn’t seen it coming. He’d played it smart, had never crossed T.J. How could T.J. turn on him for Vic? He’d given T.J. anything he’d ever asked for.
T.J.’s eyes glittered. “You pathetic piece of shit. I should do society a favor and finish the job.”
Oliver put up his hands to protect himself. T.J. had time. The guards were hollering and pounding down the walkway, but one more thrust would only take seconds. It could be over, for good, before they ever arrived.
Instead, T.J. spat, nearly hitting Oliver in the face, and withdrew to the far corner. “But what has society ever done for me?” he grumbled.
“You…you did…” Oliver gulped for breath. He was pretty sure T.J. had punctured his lung. “…this for…for Vic?” As far as Oliver knew, T.J. didn’t even like Vic.
“He promised to make it worth my while. But I didn’t do it for him. I did it for her.”
Oliver couldn’t have heard him properly. He was getting so dizzy. “Who?”
“Skye Kellerman.”
Two guards were at the cage door, giving the signal for the electronic release that would open it.
Closing his eyes, Oliver concentrated on breathing. “You don’t…even know…Skye.”
“I know you did what she said you did. And, unlike you, I believe in treating a woman right.” Then the guards were in. One guard cuffed T.J. and dragged him out while the other called for medical help.
Oliver listened to the noise, watching the hurried activity from between his lashes. There were germs crawling all over him and his belongings. He could feel them multiplying and spreading…. But the blood that puddled beneath him wasn’t so bad. It was the first time since winter set in that he’d been warm in this godforsaken place.
“What was that all about?”
David’s mother had taken Jeremy to school and returned immediately, scarcely giving David time to shower, shave and dress for the day before she cornered him in the kitchen.
“What was what all about?” he replied, trying to act as if the encounter with Skye was no big deal.
She stood behind him as he buttered his toast, too agitated to sit down. “That woman you had here.” She lowered her voice. “Are you involved with her? Lynnette told me months ago that she thought you were seeing someone else, but I wouldn’t believe her. And what about Jeremy? Can you imagine how he must’ve felt to have a woman who wasn’t his mother get out of your bed?”
“You’re overreacting,” he said.
“Lynnette has MS, David. Do you know how difficult that is to deal with? She needs to be able to count on us. She needs to be able to count on you.”
There was nothing to say; he couldn’t deny it.
“No wonder Lynnette’s so withdrawn. You promised her that you’d love her and no one else—”
“I know,” he interrupted. God, did he know. He’d meant it at the time. But he also knew that if it wasn’t for Lynnette’s illness, he probably would’ve broken that promise and gotten together with Skye three years ago.
“So how can you expect to repair your marriage when you’re entertaining another woman? Is that what broke up your family in the first place? Have you been cheating on Lynnette?”
If her voice had been sharp, he could’ve reacted in anger. But she wasn’t yelling, she was pleading. And that did more to awaken his conscience than any amount of yelling could ever do.
“No. Last night was…nothing,” he lied. “Skye’s a victim from one of my cases, that’s all.”
He carried his breakfast to the table, hoping to put a few feet between them, but his mother followed and perched on a chair that she pulled even closer. “You don’t bring other victims home with you.”
“Someone threatened her, and she was scared, okay? I invited her to stay here, hoping she’d be able to get some rest.”
His mother folded her arms, her expression clearly skeptical. “You’re telling me you didn’t sleep with her.”
“I didn’t sleep with her,” he said, but he felt guilty as he said it because whether or not he’d actually had sex with Skye seemed like such a technicality. The desire was there, stronger than anything he’d ever experienced. Sheer willpower was the only thing that had stopped him.
“The way she ran out of here…” His mother’s voice softened, but she still seemed doubtful, confused. “It felt as if there’s something between you.”
Taking a bite of toast, David talked around it. “Jeremy barged into the bedroom and woke her up, and then you followed him in. You weren’t expecting to see her. She wasn’t expecting to see you. It was an awkward situation.”
“So I’m assuming the worst and I shouldn’t be?”
Dammit! Why’d she have to press him so hard? “I’m doing the best I can, Mom,” he said, his frustration finally boiling over. “Just stay out of it.”
He knew he’d revealed too much when her tone grew wary. “You mean—”
He raised his hands, toast and all. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. The man who tried to slit her throat is being released from prison today, okay? I believe he’s responsible for three murders. I’ve got to get to work.”
“David…”
He could tell she was about to issue another warning. Who’ll take care of Lynnette? Think of what this will do to Jeremy…. There’s no guarantee that a new relationship will work any better than the one you already have…. You’ve got an obligation to your first wife. You’re simply trading one set of problems for another….
But she didn’t say any of it. She reeled in her apparent concern and said something that hit him even harder. “Never mind. I know you’ll do the right thing. You’re a good man.”
You’re a good man. Those words echoed through David’s head all day long—every time he thought of Skye and regretted not taking advantage of the opportunity presented to him last night.