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Water muted them. Fire fought them. She backed up a step.
“When he said fire, I suspected that he was taunting me. At first, I thought he might have been your arsonist. Royal and I tore into his world. But instead of being the arsonist…”
“You found out that he was the Slasher.”
A grim nod. “We watched him. We studied him.” His eyelashes flickered. “We didn’t tell the others. Saint, Ophelia, Lane—none of them have any idea what happened. When Royal and I realized Everett was gonna run, we stepped in. Is it really that big of a deal? All we did was stop the man from slipping away.”
“All we did.” Her mouth dropped. She snapped it closed. “You understand how insanely dangerous what you did was?”
“Everett and Owen were hurting people. You wanted us to just stand there and do nothing?”
No, he wouldn’t do nothing. He hadn’t just done nothing when it had been her life on the line. “My God.” Another step back. “I was wrong. You’re not Superman.” She gestured toward the mansion that surrounded her. A mansion and a murder board and a man who hunted down killers. “You’re Batman.”
“That shit is not funny.”
“What you’re doing isn’t funny! It’s dangerous!” How many times would she have to state the obvious to him? “You’re pulling some vigilante justice and—” Now she leapt to him. She grabbed his arms and held tightly. “You could get yourself killed! What am I supposed to do if you get killed? What is my life supposed to be like?”
Thick hair tumbled over his forehead. “I wasn’t in your life until recently. You’ll be fine without me. Actually, I think your life would be better without me in it.”
She didn’t breathe. Not for a moment. She just glared. “Don’t you ever say that again.” A hard inhale. Exhale. Inhale. “I have looked for you, I have dreamed about you, I have wanted you in my life for years. And the last thing I want is for you to vanish again on me. You’re not getting killed. You’re not getting tossed behind bars. You are staying with me.” Her nails dug into the fabric of his shirt. “Do you hear me?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s a good thing I don’t have nearby neighbors. They’d hear you, too.”
“Beau!”
And the mask he wore—that flippant mask he’d had on even as he revealed his secrets—shattered right before her eyes. Need, hunger, desire—they all flashed on his face. Craving. Hope. A desperate hope. His hands curled around her waist. “You’re not calling the cops?”
“You are not going into a jail cell. But we are going to have a serious talk about you discontinuing this particular extracurricular activity! That’s what you called it before. You basically confessed right in front of me when you were talking to Royal, and I didn’t even realize it.”
His eyes blazed down at her. “I think Everett knew the arsonist who set your fire.”
“Yeah, I got clued in on that, too.” Everett had been the key.
“I had nothing to do with his death.”
What? “I didn’t accuse you of being involved.” She’d never even thought it.
“I needed him alive. You needed him alive. He could have led us to the killer.”
His mask was still gone. Beau stared at her with such a voracious need. She sucked in a breath. “I taunted him. Just like I said I would. I warned him that the arsonist would be coming after him, and he was afraid, Beau. I saw his fear.” As clearly as she could see Beau’s need. “I agree with you. He knew the arsonist. And that’s a big lead for us. We have to look back at Everett’s associates when he was in New Orleans. We have to delve deep and create lines in our lives. My life. Everett’s. See if a link shows up.”
“I’ll text Ophelia and Lane. They can turn up intel faster than anyone else I know.” He let her go. Stalked away and fired off the text.
She rocked from her heels to the balls of her feet, then back again. Rocked and waited and… “Do you really love me?”
He finished the text. Dropped the phone onto the couch. “There is nothing in this world I love more.” His head angled so that he was staring over his shoulder at her. “Does that scare you?”
“No.” She licked her lips. “I believe I told you already that nothing about you scares me.”
He turned to fully face her. “Maybe the way I want you should make you afraid.”
Never. “How do you want me?”
“I want to fuck you until you’re screaming for me. Until we forget everything else. Until you don’t remember any other man but me. I want to own you because, sweetheart, you own me. You have for years.” Guttural. Possessive. Predatory. His chin lifted. “Sorry.” Beau cleared his throat, but when he spoke again, his voice was still a growl. “Too much adrenaline. Too much need. I’ll go take one real freaking cold shower, and we’ll figure out our next move after that. I’m sure we’ll be hearing from your DA buddy soon. The world will come crashing in on us.” He swung away and began to pace toward the hallway.
Did a cold shower wait down that hall?
“The DA. Cops. The warden. I’m betting our phones will be ringing off the hook.” He stopped and his hand pressed to the wall near him. “Make yourself at home. Actually…” Another glance over his shoulder. “My home is your home. I bought the place because I wanted to have something nice to impress you with. That is, if we ever actually crossed paths in a normal way.”
