Deceived (18 page)

Nicholas’s eyes widened. He had obviously missed the humor, but it really was ridiculous. If Dad knew things were bad enough to require undercover Marshals, he’d move me to Indonesia.

Nicholas’s lips parted. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t, which was fine.

I knew the facts and planned to spend as much of my free time as possible with school security.

“Elle, protecting you isn’t only a part of my job. Do you get that?” His expression pleaded with me. Beautiful green eyes snapped to attention, torn somewhere between fierce and defeated. “This is important.”

“Yes.” I got it. The importance surged in his voice and registered in his eyes. He cared. Maybe not to the same extent I cared about him, but the words secured me to my position. When my dad got that look, I knew he’d defend me against a militia or a pack of wild animals if necessary.

“I hope you do. I hope you’re okay with it.” The intensity in his eyes didn’t relent.

My heart picked up a bit at how much he wanted to say more and clenched when he didn’t.

“I hope you’re more than
okay
with it.”

I was.

“Have you eaten?”

“No.”

He moved through the kitchen and came back with some chips and salsa. I dug in.

“When you said goodbye at the flea market and I thought I’d never see you again, I was pretty upset.” I knew my time with Nicholas had limits and we’d already pushed them. He had an entire student body to look after.

“I’m sorry for that. It wasn’t my choice. I knew you’d get the wrong idea, think I didn’t care. It was the worst day I’ve had since I got here.” His hand slipped over the table between us and I felt a jolt of electricity run up my arm. The warm roughness of his calloused fingertips against my fear-frozen skin shocked me. I held still, hoping not to scare him away.

“Then you showed up again in almost every class.” My eyes slipped from his to examine our hands. One of his hands could easily cover the span of my waist. Heat swirled in my chest at the thought and I swallowed.

“Not every class. It’s a small school. I have to admit I never saw my life leading back to high school.”

“So, where is your life heading?” I sipped at the cold water.

“To this.” His shoulders rolled back an inch. “I’ve wanted to be a Marshal since I learned space cowboy wasn’t a viable occupation. I know this is where I belong. I love what I do, and I think I’m especially equipped to do it well.” He paused. “I think this is my role to play in the bigger picture.”

“Are there more of you here?”

“Like, more Marshals?”

“Sure. You can’t be here with me if there’s no one at the school, right? What about everyone walking around town and hanging at The Pier?”
What about Pixie?

Nicholas sat straighter and seemed to choose his words. “My team is around.”

“Around?”

“This town has a lot of ground to cover. We keep watch on the campus all the time, in addition to the rows of housing and the main strip. I try to keep an eye on The Pier.” He winked.

I pursed my lips.

“What? I’m the youngest. I blend.”

“Oh, yeah. You blend.” The memory of him in his hoodie passed through my mind.
Did he hear the catch in my throat?
Jeez Louise, the girls about fell over themselves chasing after him last time.

He smiled.

I let it go.

Despite the smile, tension threaded the air between us. “How old are you really?” My mind went over the information online. I added it up.

“Twenty-two.”

Wow. Deep breath. “So, your age got you the job at Francine Frances?” I wanted to break the tension that had my stomach twisted and my head spinning.

“Well, that helped, and my family, plus my military training.” His voice softened. Did he think he still scared me?

“Military training?”

“Yes. I spent some time in the Marines following the academy. I lived abroad. My superiors felt the experience might be applicable here.”

“I know about the Marines and Afghanistan.”

“You do?” His arms flopped heavily to his sides. He looked a little relieved. “Does that frighten you?”

“No. Should it?”

Something significant came and went in his expression faster than I could put a name to it. It might’ve been regret. My heart beat harder at the realization of things he might’ve seen or done defending our country.

“How is military training applicable exactly?” How his experience overseas could translate to Francine Frances, serial killer or not, hit ridiculous on the parent-paranoia scale. I smiled wildly at the silliness of the comparison between his military training and our little academy.

“It just is.” Color washed from his face. “The danger here is real and significant. I’ll do everything in my power to protect you.” His eyes glistened with staved emotion. Beneath his breath I thought I heard him growl, “We’ll find him. I’ll end him.”

My hands rolled into my lap. The face before me was no longer the youthful guy from five minutes prior. No, across from me sat a Marine. Coldness settled over his warm smile, setting his lips at a tight crease. Nicholas looked fierce and foreboding. My heart skipped in a faulty way. I swallowed loudly, and he remained motionless, watching. He would end him. This man, this stalker, was worse than I’d let myself imagine.
Serial killer
swirled in my mind, etching a permanent place there. I wouldn’t forget again. I wouldn’t play this off to avoid the reality of it. We were in danger here. Ice slid down my spine.

“Someone has to warn everyone else.” Fear surged through me for Pixie and all the girls in the apartments, undefended while I monopolized their security miles away. “They should know not to be alone. We need to tell them to lock their doors and go out in pairs. What if he left my place and slid into someone else’s?”

His eyes squinted. “I need to take you home now. Don’t worry. Someone will be outside all night watching. We need to cut this short. I don’t want to start more talk than we already have, and I want to check on Pixie. I like her.”

I pushed away from the table and excused myself to use the bathroom. I liked Pixie, too, so I was in a hurry to get back. We needed to tell her everything. She went out almost every night. What if she came home alone and he was there waiting?

Chapter Fourteen

The sounds of him cleaning up the chips and running water in the sink came down the short hall. Across from the bathroom was a bedroom. Tiny hairs on my arms stood at attention. His room. The door stood slightly ajar. Two separate laptops sat on dinner trays beside the bed. The blankets were pulled tight. Not a crease or wrinkle. File boxes sat on the floor near the trays. All sorts of Boy Scout–style paraphernalia lay strewn around the room: rope, binoculars, gloves. I couldn’t identify most of it. I slipped into the bathroom and pushed the door shut. A holster, with no gun in it, was hung over the hamper. It reminded me that I wasn’t meant to be here. I’d called him from whatever he’d been doing to rescue me from an unseen intruder.

Washing my hands, a low murmur registered through the wall. I pulled out the lip gloss Pixie had given me and concentrated as I slid it around my lips. I couldn’t make out any words. It occurred to me that I could walk in on something that might lend me a clue, and I picked up the pace. I was dying to know exactly what we faced in this small town. Hannibal Lecter came to mind and triggered my gag reflex.

My steps hastened on the way back to the kitchen. I nearly fell over when he walked around the corner. He must’ve disconnected when he heard me coming. I hadn’t considered that he’d check up on me.

“Whoa! Are you okay?” His disposition changed. His posture relaxed.

I liked that. My cheeks burned at my plan to spy. I hoped he didn’t see through me.

“Not that I mind running into you like this.”

I put my hands flat against his chest to push away, but they stuck. He was close enough for me to smell the smoke from a fire on his shirt. It mingled with his cologne and my thoughts became hazy. He’d been to a bonfire. My heart danced in my chest. My feet rooted. I jerked my head back to see his face. What should I do? Fight-or-flight played again in my muscles. Half locked in tight. The other half loosened to run. Thoughts of this moment had stretched well beyond PG-13 in my mind on a daily basis. I had to do something. I needed to back away from him. I really didn’t want to.

Do
something.

Nicholas’s head tilted downward, looking at me when I looked up. As if he’d heard my internal battle, he placed two large warm hands over mine. He held them to his chest briefly. Then he pulled them upward, over his broad shoulders, and left them dangling behind his neck. The stretch brought our bodies close, left me pulled to my tiptoes against him. We touched at our thighs and my skin heated to combustion. His eyes searched mine. I knew what came next, and anticipation rolled off me in waves. I slid my lips gently on fresh gloss, thankful for Pixie’s foresight. I’d kept it in my purse since the night she gave it to me.

Buzzing drew his attention away from my face. He looked at the island, where his phone lay twisting, and gave me an apologetic glance.

I let my arms drop and walked near the window to catch my breath. Adrenaline coursed through me, and my skin tingled. I couldn’t have been more amped if I’d just jumped from a plane. No amount of coffee or treadmill time had ever come close to this rush. In fact, without all the treadmill time, I might’ve had a stroke. Being stalked made me a nervous wreck. Worse than usual. My dreams had once been the scariest thing in my life. With a real killer lurking around, I got a face-smack of perspective.

Behind me, Nicholas spoke in fragments. I hoped whomever he spoke to understood his cryptic jargon. From my standpoint, he could’ve been drinking. The words amounted to gibberish in my ears—tense, sexy gibberish. I turned my focus on the view outside the window.
Get a grip, Elle. He’s here to protect you, not kiss or date you.

I hated to leave the cottage, but I needed to know Pixie was all right. I pulled my cell from my pocket, and two thick arms wound around my middle. From behind me, he gently pressed his palm over my phone.

The mere proximity softened me to the core. My heart hammered against my ribs and I held my breath, waiting. I said more silent thanks for the treadmill and prayers to pull myself together. On impulse, I turned in the small space between his body and the window. The movement sent him back a half step and spread a smirk across his face. He cleared his throat and I smiled. He squeezed the cell between his ear and shoulder before shaking a silent finger my way. I put my phone back and waited while he struggled to finish his strange call. I’d hindered his concentration for a change.

“You can call Pixie now.” He lifted his hand in surrender. I supposed if he was on a work call, he might’ve been in trouble if they heard a girl talking in the background.

“Who was that?”

“My team. They’re talking to campus security and the local sheriff. You’ll need to make a report later. It’s best to have everything on record.”

“But there’s no proof.”

He cut me off with a wag of his head. “You’re the proof. You heard someone inside. The door was unlocked. You remember locking it.”

Relief washed through me. I wasn’t crazy. He believed me.

He placed his phone on the shelf next to him.

I shook off the complicated thoughts, dialed Pixie’s number, and waited. When the call connected, I heard a beep from somewhere nearby. He touched his phone lightly without looking up.

Pixie screamed into the phone over her blaring car stereo. We talked for two minutes while his eyes roamed over me. I leaned into the windowsill for support.

I disconnected. “She’s going to be out late.”

He nodded once and pulled keys from his pocket. We were headed back to town anyway.

I enjoyed the drive home. The air inside the Jeep smelled of Nicholas’s cologne—sweet, spicy, and mouthwatering. He’d flipped on the heater to ease the evening chill, but goose bumps crawled up and down my arms anyway. More than once, he looked my way and I imagined the fervor in his eyes matched mine. Sometimes, when he reached to change gears, I suspected he wanted to take my hand. The new tension in my life defined magnificent, so much better than the kind I’d lived with for so long. With Nicholas in my life, everything else became bearable.

“You know, I need to concentrate to do a good job here.” His expression was grim in the dim interior Jeep lighting.

Here it came. I braced for the “we can only be friends” speech. “Until this situation is diffused … ” He stopped and took a breath.

“I understand. I don’t want to divide your time.” Lies. I wanted to monopolize all his time.

He nodded curtly and we continued in silence.

When he pulled up onto the curb outside my building, Nicholas hesitated. I looked around for the infamous orange glow, or my dad, but saw nothing but night. The typical cones of light from streetlamps cast interwoven circles over the sidewalk. Varied shades of gray against the large silhouette of our apartment building.

“What?” I whispered.

He didn’t move. One hand gripped the curve of the steering wheel and the other dug into his pocket. After one long beat, he sent a text, tossed the phone into the console cup holder, and restarted his Jeep. Nicholas gave me the fierce face.

“Call Pixie. Tell her to meet you at the library after she’s finished. Tell her not to go home first. Tell her you need a ride from there. She must go there first. Make sure she does.” His words came slow and steady. He waited for an acknowledgment from me. The instructions were crystal clear.

My mouth fell open. Something happened that I didn’t see. I turned around in my seat, looking at nothing. A full moon shone over the usual parked cars. I should’ve seen whatever he saw.

“Call now.” Another order.

I dialed immediately.

We pulled off of the curb as Pixie’s voicemail kicked on. I delivered the message as calmly as I could manage. Panic spread through me, harder to conceal with each word. I couldn’t be positive, because I was talking, but it seemed like he spoke to himself as I followed orders.