When we were back at his office he shoved me inside like I was one of his perps and slammed the door behind us with far more force than necessary. I knew the Point was on the verge of burning, but nothing would ever be as hot or as out of control as the wild fury I saw sparking in the depths of Titus’s sky-colored eyes. He was pissed like I knew he was going to be, but more than that he was concerned, and I think that made him even angrier. No one wanted to worry about a girl like me. I was supposed to get whatever nasty shit landed at my doorstep. I deserved it. That was how karma was supposed to work, but Titus was hardwired to care, even if the other person didn’t earn it or necessarily want it, and that had to make him crazy.
I studied him for a long minute, eyes locked on a muscle that twitched in his rock-hard jawline. He was so beautiful. I had thought so the first second I laid eyes on him when I initially went to him to pour out my heart and seek some kind of redemption. He was everything a man should be. Everything a warrior needed to be to make it in this wasteland, fighting for things that had long been lost. Sometimes it felt like I was torn between lust and worship where he was concerned.
He was built like an impenetrable bastion. So tall and wide it seemed like nothing would ever be able to break its way inside of him. His body was hard—from the expression on his face to the muscles that flexed and coiled when he did something as simple as lean back on the edge of his desk. His hair was cropped short on the sides and left longer on top; it was almost the same inky black as my own, but at his temple on one side was a startling and shocking snow-white spot. It was a constant reminder of the night the new me had been born and he had watched his younger brother put a gun to his own head and threaten to end it all. Titus also had raven-dark brows and a sexy, dark scruff that slashed across a tawny complexion that had nothing to do with being in the sun.
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.”