Blind Justice Page 8

  The image of him with the girl in the photo flashed through her mind. Tara frantically unbuckled her seatbelt and lunged into the tiny bathroom. She barely managed to flip up the toilet seat before she lost her breakfast.

  Oh, God. Tears streamed down her face. She heaved again but only coughed up bile.

  I had sex with a pedophile.

  Her stomach rebelled again. She hadn’t just slept with any pedophile, but a man who had recently announced his candidacy for the US Senate and might do anything to avoid being exposed.

  Christ. She really did have the worst judgment when it came to men.

  Breathe. She gripped the bowl and forced her mind to conjure an image of a tropical island, the waves slowly breaking onshore with a gentle hush. Back and forth, solid and constant, nonjudgmental and reliable as the sunrise.

  After a few moments, the nausea subsided.

  Flushing the toilet, she rose on shaky feet to wash her face and brush her teeth. Maybe this was what she got for being so loose with her body. She’d managed to escape her promiscuous years pregnancy- and STD-free thanks to religious use of condoms backed up by birth control pills, but karma had a way of catching up, didn’t it?

  They’d been approaching downtown Richmond when Tara launched herself from her seat and disappeared into the back.

  Oh, shit, was that retching?

  As soon as it was safe, Jeff eased the RV to the shoulder, but left the engine running, hazard lights flashing. Maybe all that time on her phone had made her motion-sick.

  Unbuckling his seat belt, he slowly approached the back. “Tara?”

  She sat on the couch with her arms wrapped around her knees, face scrubbed, lips pale. A wet, but empty, glass waited next to her on the counter.

  “You need anything?”

  She shook her head, eyes trained on the floor.

  “Did you get carsick?”

  Another head shake.

  “What’s wrong?” He dropped to one knee in front of her, ignoring the turbulence in his stomach.

  Her dark brown eyes were full of pain, her breaths shallow. She bit her plush lower lip and he desperately wanted to take over with his own teeth.

  Christ. He shifted back. What was wrong with him? She was clearly suffering.

  Besides, this was Tara. Coworker. City girl. Miss Perfect.

  Not for him.

  Except that she was stronger than he’d expected. Despite the stories Todd had told him, after everything she’d been through, he’d expected Tara to break down by now. Had she been upset after the men tried to kidnap her? Absolutely. But she hadn’t whined, wallowed, or become paralyzed with fear. She’d dealt with each blow, and then dusted herself off and gotten back to life.

  More proof she was tougher than she looked, and he should stop expecting otherwise. Unfortunately, it only increased her appeal.

  “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Her bone-deep sigh hit him straight in the solar plexus. “You’re a good man, Jeff.” She traced her fingers lightly along his jaw.

  Her soft touch loosed a tornado in his veins. He shot to his feet.

  She dropped her hand to the couch. “I have a water bottle up front.”

  In three strides, he had the aluminum bottle in hand. “Here.” He held it out, keeping an arm’s length between them. Thank God for his long, gorilla arms, because the sight of her tilting her head back to drink did strange things to his insides. “You want to stop at a mini-mart for something else? Ginger ale, maybe?”

  She shook her head with a wan smile. “No. I’m okay.” Smoothing her hair back, she twisted it up into a folded ponytail. “But I need to tell you something.”

  “Are you pregnant?”

  Her head snapped back, her lips parting. “What?”

  Oops. “Well, it’s morning, and you said it wasn’t from driving…”

  Her laugh was tinged with hysteria. “I guess that’s fair, but I can assure you there’s not a chance in hell I’m pregnant.”

  Well, okay. At least a little color had returned to her cheeks. Maybe too much color?

  Reaching out, he laid the back of his fingers against her warm forehead. “Maybe it’s a stomach bug.”

  Her low chuckle curled through him, soft and enticing as a warm breeze. With a little head shake, she took his hand and tugged him down next to her on the couch, her wan smile vanishing. “I just need a minute.”

  He went willingly, shocked to the core at how much he craved her touch, craved having her near.

  When she nestled against his side with a soft sigh, he wrapped his arms around her, every nerve on high alert, every muscle tensed. Her slender body molded itself to his, setting his skin ablaze from shoulder to knee. He forced himself to breathe slowly, to relax, to ignore the feel of her arm lashed across his stomach, her hand pressed to his ribs.

  He had no idea how long they sat like that, with him rubbing her back while she rested her head on his shoulder, but at some point, the air between them changed.

  Thickened.

  Heated.

  Slowly, deliberately, she looked up at him, her hand grazing the stubble on his jaw.

  Jeff closed his eyes, his skin tingling at her soft touch.

  Don’t do it. Don’t look down.

  He knew better, but hell, he was only a man.

  Lowering his head, he let his gaze rove from her dark eyes to her enticing mouth, just inches from his own. Her pull was magnetic, undeniable, breath-stealing. But he fought it.

  Right up until she closed the gap and kissed him.

  And holy hell, what a kiss. Her lips were soft as rose petals and sweeter than sugar. Pure ambrosia.

  Need crackled across his skin like lightning. She was fucking irresistible.

  Angling to face her, he pulled her closer, exploring lightly with his tongue until she let him in with a tiny hum of pleasure that singed him to his toes.

  Tara’s hands skimmed up and over his chest, her fingers kneading the tight muscles in his shoulders. He groaned and opened wider, stroking, licking, sucking. She tasted of mint toothpaste and desire, and he couldn’t get enough.

  He wanted all of her. Everything she—

  Someone knocked on the door.

  The sound had him on his feet before he even understood the trigger. Ignoring his raging hard-on and racing pulse, he slipped his Beretta from the holster at his lower back. “Stay here.”

  Tara nodded, her flushed cheeks and glistening lips calling to him like a Siren.

  Fuck. He was in so much trouble. Ignoring the tingling in his fingertips, he glanced out the front window.

  A tow truck idled in front of the RV, its yellow lights flashing.

  Jeff holstered his weapon before answering the side door to a twiggy, twenty-something man in a reflective vest who stood at the edge of the road.

  “Hey,” the kid said. “Roadside assistance. Need any help?”

  Jeff used his body to block Tara from view. “Oh, no thanks. We’re not having mechanical problems.”

  The guy’s dark brow wrinkled. “All right, but I’d suggest you take the nearest freeway exit. This isn’t a safe place to stop.”

  Jeff nodded and gave the man a brief smile. “Absolutely. Thank you.”

  He waited for the kid to leave before closing the door, and turned to find Tara standing directly behind him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said when he returned to the tiny kitchen. “I shouldn’t have—”

  “Don’t be.” He cut her off without meeting her gaze. If he looked at her again, he’d want to pick up where they left off. “I was there too. No regrets.” Except that the kiss had ended too soon and they were both still fully clothed. “But we can’t afford that kind of distraction right now.”

  What if he got so lost in her that he missed a threat?

  “Right,” she said, her voice clipped. “No worries.”

  Shit. He took a deep breath and studied her face. “So, you’re not pregnant, and you’re not sick. Do you want to
tell me what happened?”

  “Not really.” Crossing her arms, she met his gaze briefly before focusing on her feet. A long sigh escaped her lips. “I have an idea who might be after us.”

  “You do?” The back of his neck tingled. He wasn’t going to like this.

  Her chest rose and fell slowly, and she nodded. “Remember the guy with the tattoo I mentioned? From the pictures on Mars’s camera?”

  Jeff couldn’t stop his lip from curling even though he hadn’t seen the images himself. His imagination was plenty, thank you very much. “Yes.”

  She cleared her throat and hugged herself tighter. “I did some searching and figured out who he is.”

  He straightened. “Holy shit, really? It was that easy?”

  “I had an advantage of sorts,” she said, her voice rough as she dug the toe of her right foot into the linoleum. With a defiant look that belied her posture, she looked Jeff in the eye. “I slept with him once.”

  Tara forced herself to hold Jeff’s gaze. His lips parted, then slammed into a fine line as he broke eye contact. His jaw muscle worked overtime.

  When his eyes widened and his gaze flew to hers, she knew he’d fully processed what her confession meant.

  Yes. She’d fucked a pedophile.

  She wanted to disappear. Just turn to smoke and blow away. She’d thought she couldn’t feel anymore humiliated about her past. Ha. The joke was on her.

  It can always get worse. Hadn’t she learned that lesson yet?

  “Damn,” he finally said, then paused. “Now I understand your, uh, response.” His gaze flicked toward the bathroom. “But you didn’t recognize his picture or the tattoo before?”

  She stood and hugged her middle, turning toward the tightly drawn curtains. If only she were in full armor—makeup, hair, dress—maybe this wouldn’t be so hard. Maybe she wouldn’t feel like a turtle on its back, its naked underbelly exposed to the world.

  “Not until I did a search and found an old photo from a frat party. The tattoo looked familiar, but it’s been six or seven years. And we weren’t dating or anything.” Getting the next sentence out was like forcing a wad of gum through a straw. “We were only together for a few hours.”

  It was just as sordid as it sounded. And yet, if she were a man—with the exception of the pedophile part—she’d be labeled a stud or a player rather than vilified. Worst case, she’d be called a fuckboy.

  Goddamned double standard. The “studs” had to have sex with someone.

  There should be no shame in it for either party.

  For Tara, those encounters had hurt so much because she wasn’t just in it for sex or fun. Okay, yes, absolutely that too, but more than anything, she’d wanted to feel loved. Sexual conquests had been a form of validation. Instant proof that she was desirable and worthy. Getting that feeling—being able to fool herself—even for a few hours had been better than nothing. Or so she’d felt at the time.

  Not that she’d given any of this conscious thought back then. Ultimately, she’d used all those guys as much as they’d used her, but the difference was that the men had gotten exactly what they’d wanted.

  Tara had always hoped for more.

  One therapist she’d gone to had told her that her “love language” was touch. Sex had been a way to get the physical contact that she craved, that made her feel loved, but the way she’d gone about getting it had pretty much guaranteed the relationships would be short-lived.

  She had finally moved on from that self-destructive behavior, but her past would always be there, attached like an invisible tail. Today, it was swinging around to slap her in the face.

  Raising her chin, she crossed her arms and faced Jeff. Fuck him if he thought less of her. “I hooked up with quite a few men back then. Most of whom I probably wouldn’t recognize now if they stopped me on the street.”

  Jeff kept his face carefully neutral. “Okay.”

  Okay? Yeah, right. What did he really think?

  She shouldn’t care. They’d shared one erotic-as-hell kiss, which he probably had no desire to repeat, whereas she’d been ready for him to take her right there on the sofa. Stupid.

  “That’s it?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking. So much for not caring what he thought. “‘Okay?’”

  Some emotion flickered in his golden brown eyes but was quickly banked. “What do you want from me, Tara?” he asked without heat. He put his hands on his hips, looking down his perfectly straight nose at her. “Anger? Disgust? Absolution?” He let his gaze caress the length of her body. “An offer?”

  She inhaled sharply as her stomach twirled. What did she want?

  The reckless part of her had wanted any reaction that showed she mattered to him, even a little. She wanted him. But not like this, not now.

  “You threw your past down like some kind of gauntlet, but I don’t have to take it up.” His voice softened. “Your history and who you choose to sleep with are none of my business or anyone else’s. No one deserves to be judged for that. Even in their own mind.”

  She looked away, unable to bear the understanding and sympathy in his eyes.

  “You don’t have to consider your history a mistake, not even with the tattooed guy, since you had no way of knowing what he was. But if you do, you can’t possibly think you’re the only one with regrets.” He touched her shoulder and she stared at the buttons on his waffle-knit henley.

  “You realize that I had the bad judgment to date Bridget for several months,” he continued.

  That he’d stayed with Bridget, tried to have a real relationship, already made him a thousand times better than any of the men Tara had been with.

  “I forgave her little lies for far too long, but finally broke things off before my last deployment. I didn’t even know she’d been pregnant until she asked me to sign the Acknowledgment of Paternity so my name could be on the birth certificate.”

  He sighed and Tara finally looked up at the dark stubble lining his sharp jaw as he stared over her head. “I’m not sure she ever would have told me if she hadn’t realized how expensive health care was going to be. Since I was active duty and he was my kid, he qualified for care as my dependent.”

  Jeff lowered his gaze to hers. “At least she didn’t want me to marry her. As much as I’d love to live with Evan, that would have been a disaster. I separated from the Air Force when my commitment ended the following year, and moved back to Colorado to start school.” He ran a hand through his hair. “The GI Bill covered my expenses and I got to see Evan on the weekends. Not ideal, but I planned to sue for at least partial custody once I graduated and had a decent job.”

  He shook his head and scowled. “I never should have waited, but everything was fine until last summer. Bridget had grown serious with some guy soon after we broke up, and they moved to North Carolina for his job in October. Without a formal custody agreement, a parent has the legal right to move out of state with their child. There was nothing I could do.”

  Well, shit. Tara had made stupid choices. Her time with Colin had ultimately ended okay, but it had been a close and awful thing. Unlike Jeff, though, she had no one to blame for her past but herself. “I’m sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as I am. I was stupid enough to trust her again. After confirming my plans with her via email, I flew out to visit Evan in November, but the address she gave me was wrong. And Bridget had no other family I could contact to figure out where they’d gone. I think she may have been dodging creditors, but I honestly have no clue.”

  “Damn.” Tara stood and lightly squeezed his biceps. He’d trusted the wrong person. Just like her, he understood the sting of betrayal by someone you’d known intimately. “I hope you find Evan soon.”

  He ran a hand through his hair and lowered his head, letting her witness a rare unguarded flash of sadness. “Me too.”

  Her heart ached as they stood in silence for several breaths. “You said you went back to school,” she said, hoping to distract him from his worries, just as he’d h
elped distract her from her shame. “What was your major?

  “Mechanical engineering.” He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and took a step back.

  “You seem to like science.”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t know that until meteorology school, but yeah. Once I find Evan, I plan to go back.”

  Another reason for her not to get attached to Jeff. “So, why’d you leave to join Steele?”

  He rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a sideways glance. “I needed money to pay the PI. And Virginia is closer to North Carolina than Colorado is.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “I met Kurt at a job fair for veterans and it seemed like the perfect fit for my skills. Not to mention the good pay and flexible schedule.”

  Kurt knew hiring contractors carried the risk that they wouldn’t stick around long, but most of them did. He’d turned Steele into a close-knit team, and many of the guys he employed were looking to recapture that feeling from their time in the service. But as long as they did a good job, he didn’t begrudge them their motives. Tara was certain he wouldn’t fault Jeff for his.

  “I’m glad you had that option,” she said.

  She was glad it had brought him into her life. Except that his son was missing, of course. And the fact that they were nothing more than coworkers. She needed to keep both thoughts front and center.

  “Me too.” Jeff jerked his head toward the front of the RV and strode forward, slipping into the driver’s seat. Tara followed, buckling in and tucking her phone into her purse. She needed a screen break.

  Within minutes, they were on the outskirts of Richmond, a blend of tall pines and leafless trees lining both sides the freeway, blocking the view of anything beyond in a blur of green and gray. The bright morning sunlight found a few cracks in her armor, seeping into her soul like a balm.

  “So, who is this man with the tattoo?” Jeff asked, snapping her out of her momentary peace.

  She pulled a face and let out a long breath. “Greg Luciano.”

  Jeff straightened in his seat. “Should I know the name?”