Shirlee McCoy - Out of Time

“It’s a good thing he’s dead, because if he wasn’t, I’d kill him.” The rage in Levi’s voice took her by surprise, the heat blazing from his eyes, cooling her temper.

“He was sick. I don’t think he even knew what he was doing.”

“No amount of sickness can excuse this.” Levi grabbed her hand, touched the scar again, his finger so gentle, tears welled up in her eyes.

She blinked them away.

“You’re right, but we’re not here to talk about my scars or about Aaron. How about we keep that in mind?” She tugged away, thrust the paper into his hands and poured another sugar into her coffee.

She had no intention of drinking it.

She felt too sick, her stomach churning, her mind filled with a thousand memories she’d rather forget.

She’d always prided herself on her ability to read people, to know criminals from upstanding citizens. But she hadn’t known with Aaron. Hadn’t even suspected until he started calling her twice a day, driving by her house for no reason at all, making himself too much a part of her life. By that time, it was too late.

She shivered, cupping her hands around the coffee cup.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t keep pushing.” Levi took the cup and placed it on the desk, then lifted her scarred hand to his lips, pressing a tender kiss to the ridged flesh.

She shivered again. For different reasons. For reasons she wasn’t even sure she dared acknowledge.

“I guess being curious just goes with your job.” She tried to laugh, but it fell flat.

“That isn’t why I’m asking questions, Susannah.”

“Then why are you?”

“Because I care. Because thinking of you hurt tears me up inside. Because I’d give anything to go back and change what happened to you.”

“You can’t. I can’t. It happened. I’m living with it, and that’s a whole lot better than the alternative. So please, let’s just get back to work.” She pressed her hand to her stomach, taking a step away.

He didn’t respond, just studied her silently, his eyes still blazing with fury and with something else. Something her heart responded to, leaping in acknowledgement and doing the kind of happy dance it hadn’t done in years.

“Susannah? You here?” Chad called out from the chapel, and she did what any self-preserving, scared-of-the-dark, twenty-eight-year-old would do when facing down a man like Levi.

She ran.

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