Authors: Kris Norris
“Running away again?” taunted Gil.
Fallon stopped and spun around. “Running away? You actually have the audacity to stand there and accuse
me
of running away? This from a man who left his keys on the table and took all his stuff while I was at work all because you didn’t want to have to talk to me!” Her voice had risen into a yell, but she didn’t care. If Gil wanted to fight, she was more than up for it. “At least I answered the damn door, which is more than I can say for you!”
Gil clenched his jaw and stuffed his hands in his pockets. She could tell he was holding himself back, but it didn’t matter. She’d crossed the line and there was no turning back. He took one step towards her. “Okay. I get your point. You’re angry. But do you really want to talk about this now? It’s not exactly the best time.” He nodded towards Wade, making the man shuffle his feet.
Fallon ignored Wade and faced Gil head-on. “That’s the problem, Gil. It was never a good time to discuss anything with you. Every time I tried all you ever did was pull back and hide behind your job.” She took a deep breath, and said what she’d been thinking for six months. “Charlie died, Gil. But it might as well have been you, because you’ve been dead to the world ever since.”
Gil stared at her, the vein in his temple pulsing with each beat of his heart. She thought for a moment he was going to turn and leave, but then he sighed and raked a shaky hand through his hair. “So you do want to talk about this now.” He crossed his arms and pushed his shoulders back. “All right, Fallon. Let’s talk.”
Fallon snorted and threw her hands up in the air. He just didn’t get it. “You know what? There’s really nothing left to talk about. I got your message loud and clear when you left without a word and refused to even pick up your cell. Not to mention the couple of times I went to your apartment only to discover, you weren’t home.” Oh he’d been home, he just hadn’t answered the door. “You wanted a life without complications. Where your job was the only thing you gave a damn about. Well, it looks like you got it. But sue me for not sharing in your devotion.”
Oh, and the next time you want to fuck, go fuck yourself!
The words filled her head and she had to snap her back teeth together to keep from blurting them out. While a part of her wanted to hurt him with them, she knew they’d be a lie. She’d been more than willing.
Fallon glared back at him, channelling her anger into her stare, a triumphant smile touching her lips when she saw him flinch. “And for the record, you owe me a new cycling shirt.” She turned, but stopped before she’d taken a step, glancing back at both men over her shoulder. “On second thought, forget it. I’ve learnt to live through disappointment.”
Gil watched Fallon storm into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of bottles out of the fridge before slamming it shut and stomping her way out to the porch. The air was cold and damp, but he had a feeling she wouldn’t even notice it.
“Feisty little vixen, isn’t she?” said Wade, his voice tinted with humour. “Damn, Gil. You sure pissed her off. Wouldn’t want to be in your shoes tonight.”
Gil could only shake his head. He didn’t really want to be in his shoes either. “I’d be real careful with what I said right now, if I were you, Junior. Fallon won’t hesitate to launch any handy object at anyone who ventures through that door, so don’t think she’ll pull any punches just for you.”
Wade sauntered up beside him, still staring at the door Fallon had nearly slammed off its hinges. “Couldn’t help but notice she’s wearing a shirt exactly like the one you had on earlier.” He looked Gil in the eyes. “Don’t tell me you went straight for the nasty before grovelling at her feet and begging for forgiveness?” Wade moaned when Gil raised his eyebrow in challenge. “Gee whiz, Gil. Haven’t you learnt anything hanging around a chick magnet like me?” Wade shook his head. “At least tell me you made it good for her.”
“I don’t see how that is any of your business,
partner
. But I’ll have you know, she screamed my name so loud the fucking earth shook.”
Wade smiled and it was all Gil could do not to smack the grin off his partner’s face. He wasn’t one to brag, but Wade’s taunting was getting to him. Maybe because the man understood Fallon better than he did. And that thought alone was enough to ignite a blaze in his chest. He didn’t know how to handle Fallon, or this…thing…they had between them. Great sex was one thing, but he knew she needed more. And he didn’t know if he was capable of giving that to her. She was right. He’d been dead ever since Charlie had died.
Gil sighed and leant back against the table. He hadn’t expected Fallon to get so emotional, and he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. It hadn’t helped that she’d been wearing his shirt. Just watching her breasts press against the cotton had made his mouth water. He’d suckled those breasts just a few hours ago, and his cock had only gotten harder at the sight of her perky little nipples poking out at him. Thank God he’d had the good sense to leave his shirt hanging loose to hide his growing erection. The last thing he needed was Wade teasing him about having a hard-on.
“So what do we do now?” asked Wade. “She may be small. But I wouldn’t want to face her in a showdown.”
Gil smiled. He’d always loved Fallon’s passion, even when he was on the wrong end of it. “We go and talk to her. Just try not to say anything else to piss her off. I meant what I said before. She’s a wildcat.”
“Don’t worry about me. I plan on keeping my mouth shut until you’ve taken the brunt of her anger. I may be younger than you, but I’m not stupid.”
Gil glared at him as he walked through the kitchen. “Just look sincere and be ready to make a hasty retreat if she grabs one of those bottles.”
Chapter Ten
Fallon was curled up on a patio chair, chugging a cooler, when the sliding door opened. She sneered into the bottle, wondering if she should just throw the damn thing across the porch, before deciding against it. Knowing Gil, he’d sent Wade out first in the hopes the man might soothe some of her temper. But there was little chance in that. Arguing with Gil had brought back all the months she’d spent agonising over what had gone wrong. Why Gil had refused to talk to her, to share his pain. Why she’d promised herself she’d never get involved with him again.
So I guess fucking him doesn’t count as getting ‘involved’.
She cursed the voice, and knocked back another gulp. Maybe she could get drunk and forget the whole thing?
“Fallon? We need to talk.”
Damn. Gil hadn’t sent his partner in ahead. He’d chosen to face her, and she wasn’t quite sure what he was up to. She glanced at him over the edge of her drink, but said nothing.
Gil sighed and took a step forward. He looked reluctant to get too close to her.
Good!
She didn’t want him close. He was too tempting in his faded jeans and cocky half smile. And she’d already caught the scent of his cologne on the breeze drifting through the trees. It was a mixture of spice and pine, and it was all she could do to keep her ass in the chair instead of pouncing on him like a hungry animal. Even angry and hurt, she wanted him. But it wasn’t just the sex. She needed to confide in him. Share her secret. But he’d only laugh, or worse, turn away. And she didn’t think her heart was up to another disappointment.
“Fallon.”
“There’s nothing to say,” she said, tipping the bottle up, needing to drown her pain in the cold liquid.
Gil moved forward and placed his hand over hers, gently lowering the bottle. “The alcohol won’t help, darling. Believe me. I’ve tried.”
Fallon stared at where his hand touched hers, trying to ignore the heat that flowed between them. It was as if her body was tuned to his, always accepting and ready. He simply needed to touch her, and her juices collected along her slit, preparing her body for his penetration.
She pulled her hand away, spilling some of the drink on her arm. “I believe I asked you to leave.”
She watched Gil sigh, stepping back from her. “We need to know what
The Priest
said to you. Just tell us about the conversation, and we’ll leave.”
“Don’t you think I’d tell you if he’d given me anything remotely useful? Do you really think I enjoy being part of his little masquerade?” The image of the bastard raping the woman flashed in her head and she turned away. There were aspects she hadn’t shared, but she knew they’d never believe her.
Gil stepped back over to her and knelt down. “No. And I know you wouldn’t hold back anything you thought was important. But we’ve got nothing to go on. And sometimes the small details are the ones that mean the most.”
“Meaning…”
“Meaning, maybe you know more than you think.”
Fallon huffed and stared out at the night. The rain had passed, but the clouds were still thick and dark. “What do your profilers think?”
Gil shrugged and stood back up. “Nothing other than the usual. Caucasian male anywhere between twenty-five and forty. Sexually assaulted as a kid, probably hates his mother and is trying to make his mark as a man by carving up women.”
“That’s it?” she asked.
“It may be slightly transparent, but it’s all we’ve got.”
Fallon shook her head and took another drink. The Bureau was so far off on this guy, it was no wonder they didn’t have a clue how to track him down.
“What’s the matter?” asked Gil. “Disagree with the profile?”
She snorted and looked up at him. “Other than you’ve got it all wrong, not really.”
Gil smiled at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “Think you can do better?”
Fallon rolled her eyes and looked away. “Let’s start with the fact that the guy is much older, say mid-fifties, and that this has nothing to do with his mother.”
“Is that so? And what makes you so sure?”
Fallon sighed, so damn tired she blurted out the truth before she had time to consider the consequences. “Because most psychos don’t rape their victims if they think they’re their mother.”
She barely had time to gasp before Gil crossed the small space and lifted her from the chair. He locked his hands around her shoulders, giving a firm shake that made her head spin. “How do you know that? Did the bastard tell you?” Her head bobbed again as he shook her even harder. “Damn it, Fallon. What the hell is going on? First you talk about all the blood at the scene and how the church has stained glass windows. And now you know he rapes his victims before he kills them. How do you know all this?”
“Easy, Gil.” Wade was at Gil’s side, trying to pry his fingers off her shoulders. But she could only glance at him before Gil shook her again.
“Answer me, Fallon!” Gil shouted. “We didn’t tell anyone outside the Bureau. So how do you know?”
“I…”
“He told you over the phone?” prompted Gil.
“No…I…”
“How?”
Tears stung her eyes and fell down her cheeks before she could blink them away. She’d never seen Gil so upset, other than the first day in the hospital when he’d regained consciousness and realised Charlie hadn’t made it. Her shoulders felt numb where he’d clenched his hands around them, and her head was still spinning. She met his stare, watching something flicker across his expression as she drew a deep breath. “I saw him.”
Gil released her, whether because she’d answered him, or he’d finally noticed she was crying, she didn’t know. But as soon as his hands fell away from her shoulders she backed up, putting as much space as she could between them.
Gil watched from the edge of the porch, his expression unforgiving. “What do you mean, ‘you saw him’? You were at the scene?”
“Yes, no.” She sighed and crossed her arms around her chest. She felt cold and vulnerable, and didn’t want Gil to see how badly her hands were shaking. She looked up at him. “You won’t believe me.”
“Whether I believe you or not, isn’t the issue here. Now explain what you meant by, ‘you saw him’.”
Fallon huffed and couldn’t resist stomping one foot on the floor. “What good is explaining everything if you think I’m crazy? Can’t you just accept what I tell you without questioning it?”
“You know I can’t. Now quit stalling.”
Another tear tracked down her skin, but didn’t have the strength to wipe it away. She took a deep breath and stared at the floor as she spoke. “I was at the church, but not in the way you think. I have…visions.”
Both men stifled a moan, and she could only close her eyes. She’d known they wouldn’t believe in her ability. Hell, she sometimes wondered herself.
“You have visions?” asked Gil.
Fallon nodded and forced herself to meet his glare. She could see the uncertainty in his eyes, his doubt mirrored in the twitch of his hands. “Yes, Gil. I have visions.” She held up her hand, stopping any questions before he had a chance to speak. “Look, I know what you’re both thinking, but I’m not crazy and I’m not making this up. I’ve had them before, but never this intense. Or with someone I don’t know. They’ve always been with people I’ve had a personal connection with.” She shook her head and stared at the floor again. “I don’t really understand why it’s happening.”
Gil stood on the porch, silently watching Fallon toe the floor as she huddled against the wall. She looked lost and scared and he would’ve gone to her if she hadn’t completely unnerved him, Visions? What the hell was she talking about? They’d been together for two years and she’d never mentioned anything about having visions.