Cassandra tugged on Trevor’s hand
and forced him to stop at the entrance of a small side street, out of sight of the people going about their way along the sidewalk. They had been running for a while and she needed to catch her breath. She released his hand and bent forward, resting hers on her knees and her butt against the building while trying to suck air into her lungs.
“I can’t breathe,” she gasped, glancing sideways at him squatting next to her with his back and head resting against the wall.
“I know the feeling, but we can only rest a minute, we don’t want to draw any more attention to ourselves.”
The escape to the hotel had been stressful, to say the least. Both, for the most part, had been silent, lost in their own thoughts. By the expression on Trevor’s face and the set of his shoulders, Cassandra knew he was taking Allison’s death hard. She had seen a dozen other more seasoned men leave those types of scenes green around the gills and tossing their cookies in the nearest bush. Not Trevor. Instead, he had been Allison’s rock, had assessed their circumstances, and had made the last-minute decisions that had led them from the apartment complex without alerting the police to their presence.
Pretty impressive for a desk jockey
.
A few minutes back, he had jerked her to him mid-stride, shoved her against a parked car, pulled her leg around his hip, slid his hand in the back of her low-cut jeans to grip her ass, and kissed her senseless. She had been thrown totally off guard and had thought, at the time, he was having a delayed reaction to what they had just witnessed in the apartment—that it was his way of coping with Allison’s death and the subsequent effects of an adrenaline rush.
When he had abruptly let her go, dazed, she had just gaped at him until she noticed a police car driving slowly down the street away from them, shining their spotlight. He had done it out of self-preservation to hide the blood that smudged their clothes. She had been left dazed and with a sense of disappointment that she hadn’t been the reason for his fervor.
After the kiss, they had quickly moved through the sparsely populated streets in the late hours of the evening. Several times along the way, they had to use the same ruse to avoid the scrutiny of passers-by. She had begun to look forward to those moments. It was because of them—her back pressed to a wall, his body pressed tight against hers to block them from view—that Cassandra’s skin had become sensitive to the touch and her heart raced wildly, not only from the run, but from constant contact with him.
Guilt beat at Cassandra for feeling so alive when Allison was no more. She questioned what would have happened if they had been able to track her sooner.
Would she still be alive? Would none of this have happened?
Cassandra was certain that she would be thinking about Allison for a long time to come. Trevor had been right: no one deserved to die for stupid files, no matter how valuable they were.
Cassandra stood and looked down at him. “Are you okay?”
“I can’t seem to get the image of her lying there like that out of my head.” Trevor had his eyes closed and his voice was low.
“I know. I can’t either.” Cassandra placed her hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze.
Trevor’s hand covered hers as he stood. “Ready to go? We only have a few more blocks left.”
****
When they finally reached the hotel, Cassandra and Trevor hovered outside the entrance to be sure the coast was clear so they could sneak in without any fuss. It was late, so there were no guests milling around the lobby, which would make it easier to go unnoticed. When the registration clerk, occupied with a call, turned his back to the lobby, she tugged on Trevor’s hand and they quickly made a beeline for the elevator.
On reaching their floor, in an unspoken agreement, they walked straight to Trevor’s room. As they got closer, Trevor picked up the pace, quickly unlocked the door, and rushed in without stopping to hold it for Cassandra as he usually did. Cassandra used her own keycard and pushed the door open again. She reached the makeshift control room just in time to see Trevor shed his clothes down to his boxer briefs. It happened so quickly she didn’t even have a chance to turn around.
Trevor grabbed a pair of jeans off the chair and brushed past her toward the bathroom. “Be right back.”
By the sound of the running water, Cassandra assumed he was scrubbing his hands. Looking down at her own, she understood why. Hers were also covered in Allison’s blood. Walking further into the room, Cassandra pulled the plastic bag from her handbag, where she had stuffed it during the course of their run. She gathered his discarded pants and shirt from the floor and, in the process of doing so, heard the soft thud of something hitting the rug.
A small spark of excitement coursed through her at the sight of the cell phone Trevor had pocketed at Allison’s place. She picked it up and placed it on the nightstand, then stuffed the clothes into the plastic bag with his jacket. The coppery scent coming off the now semi-dried blood, which had stiffened the material of his shirt and pants, was quickly turning rancid—possibly the reason Trevor couldn’t wait to get out of his clothes.
Knowing the reason he had undressed so quickly didn’t erase the image of his tapered waist, lean muscular back, and tight ass from her mind. It didn’t become any easier when he walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later, barefoot, shirtless, wearing only the jeans he’d taken with him. Cassandra’s eyes strayed to the band of his jeans, where he had left the button undone. Her mouth went dry and an image of her hand trailing along his abs hit her.
“I’ve never seen anything so gruesome,” Trevor confided to Cassandra.
Cassandra moved her gaze to the bag in her hand and agreed, “It’s never easy. Even if you had, it wouldn’t have made it any less horrific.”
“How did you do it? How did you witness such violence and not let it taint you?” Trevor probed.
She chuckled sadly. “How do you know it hasn’t?”
“I see you,” he said simply.
That statement quieted her. As she looked up and held his stare, Trevor asked, “What do we do now?”
Trevor could see the gears turning in Cassandra’s mind right before she exclaimed, “The phone!” She ran to the nightstand and brought it to him, “Can you get anything useful from it?”
“Without a doubt.” He took the cell to his laptop and plugged it into the computer. With a few commands, Trevor accessed the cell’s system while Cassandra stood beside his chair, watching it all happen before her eyes. While reviewing the numbers logged in the history, Trevor came across his own cell number. “Well, now we know which phone she used to call me.”
He then composed a quick email to George with a request to trace and locate the origin of the few calls listed in the phone’s history, as well as to verify to whom the cell phone was registered. Since Allison hadn’t used that phone to contact her family, Trevor’s hunch was that the cell had been provided to her by Carl Kenyon so he could keep in touch. If that was the case, the phone in his hands could be the lead they needed in finding the orchestrator behind the scheme.
“So, I guess now we sit and wait?” Cassandra asked.
“Yes. Nothing else we can do at this point. It’s all in George’s hands.”
Trevor stood to face Cassandra and noted the frustration in her eyes. He had gotten to know her well enough to feel her impatience and unrest. She had been strong during the whole ordeal; he wouldn’t expect her to react any differently.
The display of life’s fragility had taken a toll on his beliefs, goals, and thoughts of the future. Only the now mattered. He locked eyes with her and confessed, “Right now there’s only one thought crossing my mind. How devastated I would’ve been if that had been you. How I would’ve reacted had I been with you when you were shot.”
Her shock at his words was visible. The sexual tension that had been flowing between them since their arrival in Paris reached a new high. She flushed as his heated blue gaze caressed her body, touched her, undressed her. The strangest thing was that, any other time, with anybody else, she would have squirmed and run for the hills. Instead, she was squirming all right, but with an ache that was burning her from the inside out.
“And how did it make you feel, Trevor?” she asked softly.
“I died a little at the thought, Cassie,” her nickname, only used by Jessica and her mother, sounded so natural coming from him. “You and I…there is more to us than what we have allowed to exist so far. I want more, Cassie. I want a lot more than you can ever imagine.”
Cassandra regarded him with myriad feelings swirling in her eyes—doubts, needs, wants—all converging into this moment. The harsh reality of Allison’s death, which had pulsed hard in her veins, had slowly been replaced by a different awareness. One she had been running from her whole life, and tonight wasn’t any different.
She stepped back from him stammering, “I…I need… I need to wash. Let me know if you get anything new from George.” She retreated to the door and exited the room before he had a chance to say anything else that would have swayed her to stay.
Trevor watched her retreat and combed his fingers through his hair in frustration. What an idiot he had been. This was certainly not the time to bare his soul and voice his feelings to her, but he couldn’t hide them any longer.
Allison’s death had made him realize one thing: wasting time was not an option. You had to cherish what you had while you had it, and he wanted Cassandra—he wanted to experience life with her. Similar to how his parents had enjoyed each other. It would definitely be an interesting ride. She was full of facets and he wanted to explore each and every one of them.
He stared at the closed door for a little while, lost in thought, and came to the conclusion that he needed a drink—a stiff one—to chase away the hurt caused by her quick dismissal of his confession. He left a quick note on the desk by her computer and headed to the hotel’s bar.
****
Standing in the bathroom, staring at her image in the mirror, Cassandra took stock. Her conclusion? She was a big fat chicken. Looking down at the running water, she finally bent over and splashed her face. Life was so complicated at that moment. The thought of Trevor left her trembling. He made her fear too much, feel too much.
Is this what Jessie meant when she said I would fall hard?
Jessie’s exact words echoed in her head:
“Oh man, Cassie. When he walks through the door, you’re going down!”
Damn, I miss her.
Cassandra hadn’t included her friend in her plans. She hadn’t wanted to drag Jessica into her personal quest or endanger her job. Guilt ate at her and prompted her to seek Jessica’s advice.
Cassandra grabbed her cell from the nightstand. She slid to the floor, leaned back against the bed, and waited for Jessica to pick up.
“Hello?’
“Jessie, it’s me.”
“Cassie! Where have you been? I know Bob said a couple of weeks, but that didn’t mean fall of the face of the earth. You haven’t returned my calls.” Jessica’s accusation was loud and clear.
“I know. I’m sorry I haven’t gotten back to you. I’m in Paris—that’s why you didn’t hear from me.”
“What the hell are you doing in Paris? You do mean Paris as in Paris, France, not Tennessee, right?”
“Yes, Paris, France. It’s a long story.”
“You better spill now or you are in deep with me, Cassie. I’m your best friend, for Pete’s sake, and I didn’t even know you were out of the country!”
“I told you it was a long story. I’ll fill you in the next time I see you.”
“You better. You caught me on my way out. Hold on a second, don’t go anywhere.” After a short pause, Cassandra overheard Jessica ask, “Jeff, can I help you?”
In the distance she heard Jeff respond, “No, I just dropped my pen is all. I’m headed out to a meeting at Bristol.”
“Good luck with that,” and then under her breath, Cassandra heard Jessica mutter “sleaze,” which brought a soft smile to her lips.
“So what’s up?”
Cassandra paused searching for the right words. “Jess? How do you know when it is real? When love is real?”
Jessica burst out laughing, “Oh my god! Hell just froze over!”
“Seriously?”
“I’m sorry Cassie. Just teasing you. I honestly never thought I’d ever hear that word cross your lips.”
“Oh, come on! I’m not that bad.”
“Cassandra Cristina I-Don’t-Want-A-Relationship-Ever James,” Jessica snickered, “yes, you are
that
bad.”
“You laugh, and here I am, asking for help. Geez. I knew it, I knew better than to call you.”
“Don’t you dare hang up, Cassie, or you’ll find your office wrapped in Saran Wrap. You know I’ll do it. Remember the time I wrapped Matt’s work station? It took him a whole day to get it back to normal. He still whines about it, as you know.”
“Hell, I’m here. Not hanging up. Leave my office alone.”
“Good. Sorry I got carried away. I’m just excited you asked. Anyway, to answer your question, you’ll just know. There is no newsflash saying, ‘You’re in love.’ Your heart and gut will tell you.”
Before Cassandra could get in another word, Jessica rushed on, “Hold the bus. Why are you asking? Did you meet someone? Holy, you
did
! Who is he? How’d you meet him? Is he cute? When are you getting married? I’d
better
be the Maid of Honor! Oh shit! Have you set the date yet? I need to check if I’m free! What do you wear in hell when it’s iced over? I’ve never read about that in Bride Magazine!” Jessica rattled off her questions in rapid succession without taking a breath in between.
“Jess-i-ca! Stop the madness!” Cassandra yelled into the microphone of her cell.
Jessica burst out laughing again, “Okay, okay, stop yelling.”
“I never said the word marriage. What the hell? Geez, I ask a simple question and you go off the deep end.”
Cassandra knew her friend well enough that she could tell Jessica was wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. She also knew Jessica had read her mood and was trying to break the tension by making her laugh.
“Cassie. Listen to me,” Jessica continued. “I’ve known you forever and love you like a sister. If you think you’ve met someone—for the record, picture me doing a happy dance— go with the flow. Do not! I repeat,
do not
overthink it. Let your hair down and enjoy the moment, it will be what it will be.”