A Deep and Dark December (26 page)

“Erin—”

“How could he be dead?”

He reached for her hand, squeezed it.

“He’s too perfect to be dead.” She looked up into Graham’s face, could see there was more. “What? What aren’t you telling me?”

“Pax has to question us.”

“We’re suspects?” The hits just kept coming. “I thought you said he killed himself.”

“He did. It’s a formality.”

“Wait. Why does he want to question
you
?”

He pulled her into him. She let him, needing his strength.

“Pax knows about us,” he said, rubbing her back.

The insinuation sank in, bringing with it crushing dread. “Everyone’s going to know. They’ll think…”

He brought her head against his chest. “Yeah. I know. I wanted you to be prepared.”

She pushed against his chest, out of his arms. “Prepared? They’re going to blame me for Keith’s death. I break up with him, take up with you, and the next day Keith kills himself. How in the hell do I prepare to have the whole town hate me? They’ll think I’m a whore. Oh, God.” She fisted her hands in her hair. “Oh, God.” She bent over. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Erin. Babe, don’t.” He took her by the shoulders, pulling her upright. “Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m not upset because I blame myself, you idiot. Keith couldn’t have cared less about me. He didn’t do this because of me. I know that. If anything, he did it because of you.”

He looked surprised. “Because of me?”

“He knew you were going to question him about Deidre.”

“You think he killed her?”

“No… I don’t know.” She threw her hands up, paced away, then back. “Actually I do know. Keith didn’t kill Deidre. It wasn’t him I saw in my visions. Graham, this is bad. This is really, really bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think he might have known who killed Deidre. Or at the least, suspected.”

“Why?”

“He was afraid, panicked. He knew you were going to question him, but I don’t think he was afraid for himself. What if he knew who killed Deidre and was killed because of it?”

“Erin, the house was locked when I got there. I saw no signs of a struggle.”

“I could use my ability. Focus on Keith and maybe I’ll get something—”

“No. It’s too dangerous.”

“Why not? Last time I used it I was fine. This could give us the break we need to solve Deidre’s murder and Keith’s, too.”

“Erin, stop it. Just stop.” He reached a hand out to her, his voice gentling. “Come here.”

She looked down at his outstretched hand. It blurred. She blinked, her vision watery. “I’m not crying.”

“Okay.”

“I never cry.”

“I know, Babe. You’re very brave.” He stepped closer. “Come here.”

She fell into his chest and he held her. Tears slipped down her cheeks, wetting his shirt. He bent over her, seeming to need the contact as much as she did. Sighing, he snuggled her closer. She fisted his shirt, trying to get a hold of herself. Why was she crying over Keith? She didn’t love him. It was all just too much, she guessed. Her aunt, her father, Deidre, Greg, and now Keith. What was happening with her ability? Not to mention the hot sex with Graham. He’d scrambled her brain and made her want things. Turned her world upside down.

And yet here he was, so strong and sweet. He drew her in closer, hugging harder as if he needed her just as much as she needed him. Maybe more.

“Graham?”

“Hmm?”

She pulled back to look up at him. “There’s something else you’re not telling me.”

“My dad’s down in emergency.”

“What? Why aren’t you with him?”

Pressing his lips together, his gaze moved to a spot just beyond her ear. “They’re running tests.”

“Is he going to be okay? What happened?”

“He’ll be fine. Why don’t we get a cup of coffee or something?” He released her and moved toward the door. “Maybe lunch.”

Something was off with him. “Graham, stop. Tell me what’s really going on.”

~*~

Graham wasn’t about to tell her the things his father had said about her. She’d been through so much. He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked at her, really looked. Her face was flushed, her eyes overly bright. He wasn’t going to add to her worries especially with the problems she’d been having with her ability.
Her ability.
Damn it.

“Did you say you’d used your ability without a problem?” he asked. “When was this?”

Her eyes went wide. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“You must have misheard me.” She shifted, jutting out her chin. “Why are you changing the subject?”

He folded his arms across his chest. “Why are
you
changing the subject?”

They stared at each other across the small room, squaring off. He was for damn sure not going to tell her about his father and he could see she wasn’t going to confide in him about her latest vision. So where did that leave them?

Her gaze skidded past him to the door. “I should go check on my aunt.”

He cleared his throat. “I should probably check on Pop.”

They didn’t move.

She looked around the room as if noticing it for the first time, taking in the small couch and chairs, the generic pictures of nature. “What is this room?”

“Grieving room for families.”

“Oh, my god. We had sex where people grieve for their dead relatives?” She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed them, shuddering. “That’s…not right.”

His eye caught on a portrait of Jesus and he shook his head. “It’s really not.”

“What are we doing here?”

Her tone sent his heart stuttering. She was looking at him, waiting for an answer as though he might actually have one. As though he could put two coherent thoughts together when she looked at him like that. The only thing he knew for sure was that she was too far away and too near. He could smell her, that faint tropical scent so uniquely her. He could feel her, her essence, her emotions, her uncertainty. He could almost taste her, remembering how perfectly their bodies fit together. What
were
they doing here?

Already they were headed for disaster. If he had a brain in his head he’d end this, do what his father wanted, spare Erin what would surely be hell for her. All she’d wanted was to fit in with this stupid town and now Keith’s death, combined with her involvement with Graham would probably ensure that never happened. The people of San Rey had small minds, big mouths, and long memories. There would always be whispers about how Keith had killed himself because she cheated on him with Graham.

If it was even possible to stop it. By now he’d bet half the town already knew about them and about Keith. The damage was done. All he could do now was try to cushion some of it for her, be there for her. He didn’t kid himself into thinking his motives were entirely selfless. They weren’t. He’d always been a self-serving bastard. Why should that change? Especially with her feet away, still waiting, still looking at him, expecting things from him.

“We’re…figuring things out,” he answered lamely.

“When do you think we’ll have them figured out?”

“I don’t know.”

She nodded at that. “Okay.”

“Do you think it can be figured out? I mean, is it possible?” he asked.

“Yeah, I kinda do. Don’t you?”

Suddenly everything was set right. He smiled. “Yeah.”

She smiled in return, tilting her head a little to the side. She was so damn pretty he couldn’t stop himself from touching her, reaching out to stroke her cheek with the pad of his thumb. So soft. She eased into the caress, her lashes lowering. He leaned in to kiss her. How could he have thought of ending things, ending this? He framed her face in his hands and deepened the kiss. She moved into him, gripping his wrists. He broke the kiss before things got out of hand. Again.

“You’re very good at that,” she said.

“At what?”

“Making me forget.”

“At least I’m good for something. Do you want to go back to your aunt?”

She smoothed a hand over the wet spot on his shirt where she’d cried. “No, I want to go down with you to check on your dad.”

“We can go down. See what his doctor says. But we probably won’t be able to see him.” No way in hell.

He didn’t know what it would do to his pop to see him with Erin and he knew exactly what it would do to their fragile relationship if she found out his father had disowned him because of her. Family was everything to Erin and he knew she would rather break things off with him than get between Graham and his father.

“Oh, okay.”

They headed down to emergency and found out that his dad was going to be admitted overnight for observation. Erin decided to go back upstairs to check on her aunt, leaving Graham with a kiss and an invitation to stop by her house later. Graham watched her until the elevator doors closed and she disappeared from his view. He turned to go see his father before they took him up to his room, wondering how he was going to sort things out with his old man.

Graham pulled back the curtain around his father’s hospital bed and cautiously stepped inside. Ham pinned him with the dark-eyed stare he’d come to dread as a child.

“I’ve decided to give you another chance,” Ham said, motioning for Graham to sit down. “But you’d better listen to me. You’re going to shave your beard and get your act together. You’re going to stop seeing that December girl. And you’re going to start living up to your potential as a Doran and sheriff of this town.” He shifted in the bed, sitting up straighter. “I’ve held off the mayor and his cronies from recalling you as sheriff, but I don’t know for how much longer.”

At first his father’s words had given him hope, but then he quickly dashed them on the rocks of stubbornness. Graham reclined in his seat, settling in for what he knew was going to be a long lecture. “Have you?”

“I can arrange for you to make a speech. About how concerned you are, your plans for the town, that sort of thing. We can squash this.”

“Can we?”

Whatever drugs they were giving Ham had a rejuvenating effect. If it wasn’t for the weight loss and paleness Graham could have sworn his father had never been ill.

“But the town’s going to want to see you’re serious. Some outward indication,” Ham said.

“Like shaving my beard.”

“You’re not in Los Angeles anymore. You’re back here where you belong. Dorans have been trusted to keep San Rey safe for generations and we’re going to keep on doing that. Your son—”

“What if I have daughters? Or no children at all?”

“Stop being flippant, Graham. This is serious.”

“Pop, you’re not going to want to hear this, but you need to. I’ll make that speech. I might even shave, but the rest is none of your business. I get that you don’t like Erin although I don’t know why. I hope as you get to know her—”

“
Get
to know her? Oh, I know her. I know her kind. Beauty is temptation. Descended from Eve, women tempt men into sin. You must not let your lust for her deter you from your duty—”

“Her
kind
?”

“You can do better.”

“No, actually I can’t.”

“She’s twisted you around so you can’t see clearly. I’ve been there, son. I know what it’s like to be tempted, to partake of forbidden fruit. To be drawn in. It’s enticing. Exciting. But you’ll see I’m right soon enough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Eventually she’ll show her true colors. Your lust for her will fade and you’ll see her for what she is.”

“Stop hinting at it. Say it plainly, Pop. What exactly is she?”

“First Keith Collins and now you. He was a good man and if it weren’t for her, he’d still be alive. Look at what’s in front of you, son. Look at it.”

“You can’t be serious. You think she had something to do with Keith’s death?”

“She traded a maybe for a somebody.” He pointed at Graham. “You.”

Graham stood. “I’m not going to listen to any more of this.”

“Don’t go against me.” Ham leaned forward in the bed. “Or I’ll make sure your little hussy is exposed for what she is. Her
and
her family.”

“That’s enough.”

“I hear her aunt overdosed. A combination of pills and alcohol. She’s right here in this hospital—”

“Not one more word about Erin or Cerie or anyone else I care about—”

“I might look like a weak old man, but I have more power than you know. Jobs dry up, leases get revoked, people fall on hard times, can’t pay their bills.” Ham waved a hand. “Happens all the time.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“That’s the thing about living in and serving the same small town for generations, people think they owe you.”

“Why? Just tell me why you dislike the Decembers so much.”

Ham leveled his son with a look that knocked him back to the days when he lived in his father’s house and had to abide by his rules without question. Only those days were gone. And in the ensuing years Graham had learned to question everything, including himself. Especially himself. A lesson left over from the nightmare in L.A.