Steal My Breath (Elixir #1) (21 page)

I
t’s amazing
to me how someone can become everything to you in the blink of an eye. How you can go from knowing nothing about them to knowing so many intricacies you never imagined existed before. Like how I now know that when Luke sleeps, he has this tendency to bite his lip; and how he has this OCD habit of stacking cutlery in the dishwasher in groups with forks all together and so forth; and how when he drives, he weaves in and out of the traffic in an effort to reach his destination faster.

We’ve been together for four months now. Luke’s the first person I’ve shared every single piece of my soul with. I’ve held nothing back—not my fears, my vulnerabilities and certainly not my faults. He knows them all and he loves me fiercely because of them.

I love him just as fiercely. For the amazing man he is, as much as the vulnerable man he’s become since having his life ripped out from under him.

It’s on a Friday afternoon, late November, that I begin to wonder about love. It’s just a whisper of wonder at first, but it quickly progresses into full-blown uncertainty. Is love ever really extinguished or do the embers glow forever, just waiting for the right moment to rekindle a fire that once burnt brightly? Is it possible to fall back in love with someone after you’ve stopped loving them?

Luke calls me just before four. “Baby, I’ve got a huge problem for tomorrow and I need your help to fix it.” Luke never sounds stressed, but he kinda does right now.

I balance the phone between my ear and my shoulder while I finish typing up an article for next week’s paper. “Sure. What’s up?”

He starts to speak again, but the sounds of his bar muffle his words.

“Luke, I can’t hear you over the noise in the background. Are you really busy this afternoon?” He doesn’t usually start to get busy until after five on a Friday.

“Fuck,” he mutters. A minute passes before he says, “Is this better? I’m in the office.”

“Much better. Now, what’s up?”

“The woman rang about Sean’s party tomorrow. They’ve double-booked the party room, which means one party can’t go ahead. Because we booked it last, it’s Sean’s.”

I sit forward in my seat. “That sucks.”

“It’s a fucking pain in the ass, is what it is. If I wasn’t stuck at work all night, I’d have the time to come up with something else and let the parents know. That’s where you come in.”

“Oh, shit, you want
me
to come up with an alternative for a five-year-old’s party? Luke, I am no mother. These kinds of things are not my forte. I can ring around parents no worries, but to make plans and execute them isn’t something I think you really want me doing.”

“Callie, you’re amazing with Sean. And trust me, I have no clue on this kind of thing either. It was only because Glenda suggested that party venue that it was going to take place there. If it had been up to me, he would have been running around the park with his friends and some cake.”

I consider what he’s said and realise he’s right. Surely Google will have ideas for me. “Okay, I’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you. The list of kids coming and their parents’ phone numbers is on the fridge. I can try and find someone to do my shift tonight, but I’m fairly sure no one’s available at this late notice.” His relief is clear when he thanks me, so I decide to take this weight off his shoulders completely.

“No, don’t do that. I’ll take care of this. It’s not a problem. You just focus on work and let me focus on Sean tonight.”

I hear the breath he exhales. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, but I better go now so I can get cracking on this.” My mind is already spinning ahead trying to figure out party ideas. Pinterest is looking like a good option right about now. They have stacks of ideas on there.

As we end the call and I type the Pinterest website into my browser, I suddenly remember it’s one of my colleague’s last days at work today.

“Shit,” I mutter. I wanted to say goodbye to her and she told me to come by around four. I push my chair back and make a mental note to get back to Pinterest as soon as possible. I’m beginning to feel all kinds of nervous about this endeavour. What if I screw Sean’s party up? What if he hates it? Oh, God, the things a mother must go through in her life. No wonder most of the mothers I know drink copious amounts of wine as often as they can.

“I’m going to miss you,” I say to Marion as I enter her office. She’s my favourite person here, so I’m really going to miss her.

She smiles as she loads another file into the box she’s packing. Marion has been reporting on news and crime at the paper for fifteen years; she has a lot of files to pack. “I give it six months tops until they move you off events and start giving you juicier stories.” She picks up the next folder in her pile. “Like this one,” she says.

As she holds it up, pieces of paper flutter out of the folder and onto the floor. I bend to retrieve them and freeze when I read the headline on the article. Looking up at Marion, I say, “Did you work on Jolene Hardy’s case?”

She nods and opens the file. “Yes. That was an interesting case, that’s for sure. One I was never happy with.”

I stand and pass her the pieces of paper from the floor. “Why?”

She shifts her weight onto one leg. “I interviewed her and I honestly believed everything she told me. But as much as I believed her, all the evidence stacked up against her. It was hard to put my faith in a woman who was supposedly a cold-blooded murderer when there wasn’t much evidence in her favour. Except for the old man who was her neighbour at the time. He swore she was home at the time the murder took place. It corroborated her testimony. But the prosecution slaughtered him on the stand.” She pauses. “I still wonder about her, though. Something didn’t feel right.”

I’m rooted to the spot and my skin prickles with apprehension. “What felt wrong about it?”

She pulls a face. “They painted her as this cold, calculating woman, but I didn’t pick up on the calculating part of her personality when I spoke with her. Sure, she can be cold, but I think that’s only when she feels threatened. Once we moved past her mistrust of me, she was anything but cold. She struck me as a very unhappy woman who felt trapped in a marriage with a man she struggled to believe loved her. Her childhood was full of bullying, abuse and a lack of parental love, so I don’t think she ever learnt how to love. But she was desperate for it underneath that bitchy coat she wore to protect herself from hurt. Her husband was amazing throughout the trial, always by her side, supporting her however she needed it. And yet, she couldn’t see the love he had for her. I think a calculating person would be more in tune with what other people are thinking. Smarter, you know?”

My legs are weak and my head is spinning.

Marion touches my arm. “Callie, are you okay? Do you need to sit down? You’re so pale all of a sudden.”

I nod and take the seat she offers me. “Have you got any water?”

She leaves me for a couple of minutes to find water. When she returns, I’m feeling a little better. “Thank you,” I say as she passes me the glass.

Sitting opposite me, she says, “What happened there?”

I take a gulp of water. “I know her husband.”

“Do you know her?”

I shake my head. “No. I only met him just over a year ago. My best friend works for him.” I omit that I’m in love with the man.

“I feel sorry for him. Either way, he’s been screwed over.”

I lean forward. “What does your gut tell you about the murder?”

She exhales a long breath after thinking for a good minute or so. “Honestly, I’m inclined to think she’s innocent. I researched it for months but came up short. And I know her husband hired a detective, and he found nothing that helped. But I still have this doubt at the back of my head.”

Oh, God.

This is bad.

Very, very bad.

I bite my lip. “Would you consider leaving your file with me so I could keep looking into it?”

She frowns. “I won’t leave the original documents here, but you could photocopy them now before I go.”

“Thank you.”

As I exit her office with the file to photocopy, she calls out, “I’m available anytime you want to go over something. Two heads and all.”

At this point, I’m not even sure I want to go over the file, but my gut is screaming at me to at least get a copy of it so I can read through it.

Maybe not today.

But soon.

When I work up the courage.

Because if this is as bad as I’m beginning to think it could be, it will alter my future in ways I’m sure I can’t even imagine.

I
reach
for the glass sitting on the table in front of me. Throwing back every last drop of vodka that’s left in it, I scrunch my eyes and then squeeze my eyes shut for a brief moment.

What a day.

It started off great and ended being so fucked-up.

It’s close to midnight and I’ve spent tonight organising Sean’s party and reading over the file Marion had on Jolene. The party turned out to be far easier to put together than I originally thought. But that could be because Marion’s file hovered over me like a dark shadow making the party preparations feel uncomplicated.

I’ve read the file from back to front, two times over. I’ve also spent an hour looking online for any articles I can find. There are a lot. And not one of them portrays Jolene in a light other than a calculating murderer.

The prosecution stated Jolene’s motive was pure revenge for her mother, Penny Spiers, being a bad mother. They claimed she lured her mother to the motel on the night of the murder with the intent of killing her after they had a roaring argument earlier that day. Jolene admitted to the argument but held fast to her denial of murder. She also testified to a hard relationship with her mother. Jolene had trouble refuting anything the prosecution alleged about her relationship with her mother. Her sister, Glenda, also backed the prosecution.

Someone either staying at the motel or someone close by heard an argument that night and called the police. When they arrived, they found Jolene standing over her mother’s body with blood all over her. Jolene swore she received a distressed phone call from her mother asking her to come to the motel, and that was the only reason she was there. Allegedly her mother was dead when she arrived. When they inspected her car, the police found rope that matched the rope used to tie her mother’s hands together.

The police insisted they looked further afield for suspects, but Marion’s notes detail that as far as she could work out, Jolene was their only real suspect. All clues pointed to her. Except for the old man who lived next door to Luke and Jolene at the time. He swore he saw Jolene get into her car that night at the time the coroner declared the murder took place. He was emphatic about this, but the prosecution ripped his testimony apart on the stand, showing that his eyesight was atrocious and there was no way he could be sure it was actually Jolene.

I lean back into my seat as I close the file again. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to push the thoughts swarming in my head to the side. But I can’t.

What if Luke’s wife really is innocent?

What if Sean’s mother really should be home with him rather than rotting in that prison for a crime she didn’t commit?

What if a woman, whose only crime was bitchiness, is sitting alone in a prison cell because the world believes in her non-existent guilt?

I drop my head into my hands. The last thing I want to do is stir things up for Luke, but I know I can’t walk away from this. I need to at least research it some more.

If I were innocent of a crime I’d been convicted of, I’d want someone fighting for me.

“
H
ow the fuck
did you pull this off?” Luke asks as he moves behind me and wraps his arms around my waist. Dropping a kiss on my collarbone, he adds, “And how did you know Sean would love a pirate party? I didn’t even know he was into pirates.”

I grin as I survey Sean and his friends walking the plank I set up with a round kiddie swimming pool filled with water and a sturdy piece of wood that we set up across the pool, balanced on each end with buckets. I woke up early and hit the shops to round up all the supplies I needed to make decorations and food for a perfect pirate themed party that any five-year-old boy would love. Thank goodness for Pinterest and all the printable files I found, because there’s no way I could have pulled any of this off without those.

Luckily, the party was scheduled for three o’clock, which meant I had most of the day to get everything ready. We made it just in time.

I place my hands over Luke’s. “I’ve got the skills, dude. I’ve got you and your kid covered.”

He nuzzles my neck and I suck in a breath. Luke’s scent is my favourite in the whole world, and right now, it’s causing all sorts of dirty thoughts in my mind. His lips on my skin are also causing havoc with my senses. This is totally not the right place for me to rip his clothes off, so I move out of his embrace and turn to face him. “You should
not
do that.”

His lips curl up at the ends. “That’s not what you’re usually begging for.”

I fix a mock glare on him. “Trust me, it’s not what I want to be begging for. You came home so exhausted this morning that I didn’t want to beg for anything then, so you owe me a raincheck for that.”

An expression moves across his face that I can’t quite pick. He reaches out to grip the bottom of my T-shirt and gently pulls it. His eyes hold mine. And he utters words that screw with any ability I have left to process things like a sane human. “I want you to move in with me and Sean.”

My heart speeds up and my body hums with happiness. But no words come because I’m all kinds of flustered and can’t form a sentence, let alone open my mouth and say it.

His voice deepens. “Callie.” So demanding. So freaking hot. Luke’s need for me turns me on so damn much. I practically live at his house already and spend most of my time in a turned-on, mind-scrambled state of bliss. Luke likes to have me close at all times and never hesitates with displays of affection. He’s always got his eyes, hands or lips on me. I’m fairly sure if he didn’t have a child in the house, I’d never escape him. Not that I want to escape him. Ever.

“I’d like that,” I say quietly.

He raises a brow. “Only like?”

My happiness bubbles up and I grin. Leaning close, I whisper so no one else can hear, “I’d fucking love to move in. Then I can have your cock whenever I want.”

As I lean away, his hand locks around my neck and he pulls me back. “Baby, that part of me is always available to you,” he whisper-growls.

Oh, good God.

He is too much.

I take a deep breath and press against his chest to give us some much-needed space. “Right, you need to go hang out with your child and I need to go inside and fix a vodka. Or two.”

He chuckles and jerks his chin towards the house. “Go. I’ll take this from here although Glenda seems to have these kids under control.”

Ugh.

She’s been a pain in my ass since she got here. But I’ve held my tongue and I can manage to hold it for a few more hours.

“She does. You got lucky today.”

As I make my way up the stairs, I glance back and take in the scene in front of me—Sean having so much fun with his friends and Luke happy and relaxed in a way I haven’t seen before. Something has shifted in him recently. He’s even started talking to me more about his past. Opening himself up and sharing some of those hidden parts of his soul that he’s kept locked tight.

As I think about moving in with him, my thoughts slam hard up against a wall in my mind.

Jolene.

That file sitting in my bag.

Why, God?

Why did you have to make this so damn complicated?

Why did you have to give me a conscience?

I traipse into the kitchen in search of coffee. I’ll save the vodka for after the party. I try to ignore it, but Jolene’s file glares at me from the kitchen table as I walk past. It’s shoved inside my bag, but it’s still glaring at me.

You could just forget you ever saw it.

Yes, but an innocent woman might be sitting in prison.

Luke’s already told you she’s guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Leave it.

Yes, but…

No buts. Clearly, she’s guilty. You’d just be stirring up shit. Luke doesn’t need to go through all that again.

But what if she’s not? What if she just needs someone on her side?

I make coffee and decide to put the file out of my mind for now. I’m going to spend today celebrating Sean’s birthday. After Luke goes to work tonight and Sean goes to bed, I’ll flick through it again. I know, though, that it’s going to be a long night of me wrestling with my conscience. This file is
not
something I want in my life and it would be far easier to throw it in the bin than deal with it.

B
y 10
:00 p.m., I’m exhausted. The party ended on a high and Sean was more animated than ever. Luke stayed as long as he could to try to settle him, but by six, I was alone after he went to work and Paris went out for dinner with her friends. He finally fell asleep just after seven thirty at which point I collapsed onto the couch with vodka and Jolene’s file.

I pored over it for two hours. I’ve taken copious notes, but I don’t feel like I’ve gotten anywhere. I keep circling back to the old man who lived next door and to Marion’s thoughts on Jolene. Those two pieces of the puzzle seem to be the key to delving further into this.

I need to talk with them.

Oh, God.

I need to meet Luke’s wife.

My phone rings.

Luke.

“Hey, sexy man. How’s your night?”

“It’s busy as hell here. I doubt I’ll get out of here early tonight.”

“So no sexy times tonight? Geez, dude, you’re letting the team down. Two nights in a row.”

“Go to bed now. You’re going to need some energy when I get home.”
Bossy Luke.

I squeeze my legs together. “A girl can dream.”

“And Callie?”

“Yes?”

“Be ready for a long night.”

“You kill me, Mr Hardy.”

“I’m just repaying the favour, baby.”

My conscience wars with itself after our call, Jolene’s file still glaring at me from the couch.

She’s guilty. Walk away now.

You just want her to be guilty so she can’t rock your happy little boat.

She can’t rock my happy boat. Luke doesn’t love her anymore.

But he wants a family for his son.

He can have me. I have mummy skills.

Yeah, but he’s always wanted the mother and father together with the child. He wants what he never had.

I hate you. Why the fuck did you have to bring that up?

L
uke slides
into bed around four-thirty the next morning. I’ve had the worst night’s sleep and have tossed and turned for hours, so I’m half awake when he gets home. His arm snakes over my waist and pulls me tightly against him while his leg rests over mine. I wait for him to make his move, but he doesn’t.

“Long night?” I ask.

“Yeah, a long fucked-up night. Nothing but problems.” His exhaustion weaves itself through his words.

I turn to face him and press a kiss to his lips. “I’m sorry you had such a shitty night.”

“I’m sorry I’m so late.” His eyes find mine in the dark.

“Go to sleep, baby,” I whisper.

“Tomorrow you’re mine. I don’t know when or how, but I’m not going another day without you.”

I smile. “We could do some washing while you fuck me on the washing machine. I don’t even care if it’s a quickie while Sean sleeps.”

He groans and grinds himself against me. “Or you could just keep talking dirty now. My cock can’t resist your filthy mouth.”

“Your cock can’t resist me, full stop. I could wrap my lips around it and give you a little A-game action.” I push my pussy against him. “But you know what I’ve been missing real bad? Your mouth on my tits. I’d do just about anything for that.”

He pushes his cock inside me. Just a little way in before pulling back out. “You want that or my mouth?”

“Too many decisions. Can’t I have both?” I find his lips and kiss him. Slow, because it matches the mood he’s in.

He groans into my mouth. “We can’t always have everything we want.” His cock enters me again and I try to take him all the way in. He pulls back out before I succeed.

I wrap my arms tight around his neck and drag his lips to mine. After I kiss him, I say, “Luke, I just need you to fuck me. No foreplay. No dirty talk. Just your cock, fast and hard.”

He hisses. “Fuck,” he rasps.

A second later, his cock is as deep inside me as it can be and my man gives me what I need.

It doesn’t take me long to fall asleep after we’re done.

Curled up with Luke’s arms around me and his steady breaths against my ear as he sleeps is my happy place.

“
W
hat’s going
on in that gorgeous head of yours?” Luke asks as he moves behind me. He wraps his arms around me, settling his hands on my stomach. “You’ve been acting strange all day.”

He’s right. I have been.

This morning has been filled with playtime. Sean and I spent a couple of hours outside playing so Luke could get some sleep after his long shift last night. I know for sure now that I have to see my Jolene investigation through. I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t and she was indeed innocent. Just one look at her son this morning and I knew this was the path I’d be taking. He at least deserves the chance to have his mother in his life.

My body tenses in Luke’s arms. I place my hand on his. “I’m sorry. I’ve just got some work stuff on my mind.”

He turns me to face him, arms still around me. “You wanna talk about it? Go over it maybe?”

Yes.

No.

Fuck, no.

“I actually think I should probably go so I can work on it at home in the quiet,” I say hesitantly. Sean’s just gone down for a nap and I know Luke was looking forward to some alone time. It’s crazy talk for me to be passing up make-out time, but I don’t think I have it in me today.

He frowns, but he doesn’t argue. “You do whatever you need to, baby,” he says. “But before you go, I need this.” His lips meet mine and he treats me to one of his long, slow kisses—the kind that nearly bring me to my knees each time.

When he lets me go, I fight to catch my breath. “I’ll only be a few hours. I’ll check in on Mrs Harper while I’m there, and I’ll be back before dinner. You owe me pizza.”

His eyes flash with lust and his voice is gravelly when he speaks. “You better go before I change my mind and make you stay.”

Guilt floods me as I leave.

Luke’s watching me back out of his driveway. He thinks I’m going home when in fact I’m about to drive to his old neighbour’s new home.

I’m about to move my investigation to the next level.

L
uke’s
old neighbour lives about twenty minutes from him now and I spend the entire drive there psyching myself up to talk to him. Marion’s notes gave me his new address, but there was no phone number and I couldn’t locate it online, so he doesn’t know I’m coming. I’m hopeful he’ll be home and that he’ll agree to talk to me.

As I walk the short distance from his front gate to his door, I smooth my dress. It doesn’t need smoothing, but my hands need something to do. I’m not even sure why I’m full of so many nerves. It’s just an old man for goodness’ sake and I’ve just got a few questions for him. Surely he won’t slam the door in my face.

It’s not him you’re nervous about.

I knock on his door and wait. A good few minutes pass with no answer, so I knock again, this time a little louder.

Another few minutes lapse before the door is slowly pulled open. A hunched-over elderly man squints at me. “What?” he barks.

I jump a little, mostly from my nerves rather than from his tone. “Ah, Mr Beacon?”

“Yes. Who’s asking?” He speaks so loud, which makes me think he’s a little deaf.

I take a deep breath and steady myself. “My name is Callie St James and I’m investigating the Jolene Hardy murder case. Would you have a few minutes to spare so I can ask you some questions?”

He scowls. “I’ve already told the police everything I know. Fat lot of good that did because those wankers didn’t even listen. Shot me down in court was all they did.”

My lips twitch at his language. “I know, and that’s the reason I’d like to talk with you. I’m looking into Jolene’s innocence.”

“Of course she’s innocent,” he barks. His firm belief encourages me to push harder.

I take a step forward as if my entry into his house is assured. “Please just give me a few moments of your time so I can go over it again with you. I’m going to be speaking with Jolene tomorrow, so I’d really appreciate your time today.”

I’m pretty sure it’s my last statement about talking with Jolene that does it. He shuffles back and lets me in. I take a few steps inside and wait for him to close the door and lead me into his lounge room where we both take a seat. His house is stuffy. It has that closed-up smell that my grandma’s home used to have. I draw my breaths sparingly—I don’t love this smell or the memories of my childhood they bring.

“What do you want to know, girly?” He’s still squinting at me.

“How close were you to Jolene?”

“I lived next door to them for just over a year. In that time, she visited me a few times a week to make sure I was okay. She often took my clothes to be dry-cleaned and usually picked up groceries for me once a week, sometimes more. Oh, and my scripts from the chemist—she picked them up, too. I didn’t know her so well, but she always made sure I had what I needed.”