Page 47 of His to Love
I wanted him to prove it. Again. And again. And again.
I opened my mouth to tell him when my stomach rumbled loudly.
“Maybe after I feed you,” Tyson said, stepping back. His hands left my hips, and I laughed when our eyes met.
“Killed the moment, did I?”
“Not at all.” He reached into a cupboard next to me and pulled out two plates. Then he winked. “I need you to have energy for later.”
I stuck my tongue out at him, teasing him, while he served our food and then took a seat at one of the barstools at the counter. He didn’t have a kitchen table so we dug in right there and quietly talked about our day and what we had to do. I was in middle of telling him about my job hunt and apartment search, hesitating on whether or not I should tell him that Latham Hills was at the top of my neighborhood list, when his eyebrows snapped together and the room chilled. His jaw tightened and sharp lines darted out from the outer edges of eyes as he glared at something over my shoulder.
I followed his glare to the television screen that had been on, but on mute, ever since I entered the room. Photos of three young women were on the screen along with a red banner beneath them that read “Breaking News: Another reported disappearance of a young blond woman.”
My heart pumped a beat faster when Tyson jumped up from the stool and darted to the couch in the living room where he picked up a remote and turned up the volume.
“This is the fourth disappearance in less than ten days. All the women were reported missing by their parents when they failed to return home after curfew. The last-known whereabouts of Cilia Metzer, the most recent female victim, was Harrison Street, two blocks from her home. It was reported that she was walking home from a friend’s house—”
“Fuck.” Tyson cursed and punched a button on the remote. The screen went black and my eyes went wide.
“Tyson?”
I waited for him to respond as he threw his hand to his forehead and scrubbed down his face.
“What is it?” I asked again.
A sinking feeling hit my gut as he exhaled and his head fell forward.
“Nothing,” he finally said, shaking his head. He tossed the remote onto the couch and walked toward his spot at the counter.
“Do you know them?”
“Eat, Blue.” He picked up his fork, speared his eggs and shoved them into his mouth.
“Is it a case you’re working on?” I prodded when he still didn’t look at me after several more bites. I couldn’t explain the tension in the room or the chill in the air. What else could have caused such a visceral reaction in him?
He licked his lips and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. I watched, still stunned and even more confused, as he swung his legs off the stool and went to the kitchen. He flung the refrigerator door open so hard it crashed into the wall, making me jump at the sudden noise.
“Fucking hell,” he muttered and reached for a white carton of orange juice.
The fridge door slammed shut, a kitchen cupboard was flung open, making the same banging sound the fridge had made moments before, and two glasses were slammed onto the countertop. I watched the whole thing, jaw slack and eyes wide, when he snapped his head up. His glare chilled the room further.
“Want some juice?”
I shook my head. I wasn’t thirsty. I was no longer hungry.
He didn’t react to my answer, just filled a glass, slammed it back with one large gulp, and then repeated the same moves again with the slamming of the fridge door when he returned the carton.
“I think I’m just going to head out,” I muttered, slinking off the stool when he prowled closer.
He looked ready to brawl, and I didn’t know what to do, what to say, but whatever had made him so angry, I wasn’t the person he wanted to talk to about it. Chewing the inside of my lip, I went to move around him when his hand curled around my forearm and stopped me.
“It has to do with a case, that’s all I can say.” I blinked at his hand on my arm and then forced myself to meet his eye.
He was looking at the counter, not me.
“Can’t talk about my cases, Blue.”
Of course he couldn’t. That made sense. But I was also getting the sense that something else was at play, something bigger and something darker.
