The Last Shadow (Shadows and Strings #3)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

Frankie

“Hey, are we still on for dinner after work?” Amelia pops her head into the war room, eyes big and bright.

“Yeah, of course.” For the past few weeks, I’ve been in a bubble, a love bubble that’s just me and my husband. If I’m not at work chasing The Butcher—God, I fucking hate that name—then I’m at the penthouse with Damien. Being fed, fucked and doted on. Adored.

I need to get back to my regular life, which means hanging out with friends and coworkers. Damien occupies my time, and I love it, but our little bubble isn’t the real world. Besides, I know Amelia is hungry for the details of my married life.

She raises an eyebrow. “Are you sure? Because last time you said we’d hang out, your husband had a special surprise and you really didn’t want to disappoint him.” Her tone tells me everything about what she thinks about that, and honestly, I don’t want to talk about it.

“I’m sure.” I shake my head. “It’s supposed to be a good thing when your husband wants to spend time with you. Right?” I don’t know why she’s getting all bent out of shape about a wife spending time with her man.

“Of course, it’s just…odd. That’s all.” Amelia waves her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about me. Maybe I’m just missing you.”

We both know that’s not all it is, but I don’t call her out on it. “Birria nachos tonight. On me?”

“Sounds good.”

Amelia leaves me alone in the room and my gaze wanders once again to the faces of the victims I haven’t been able to get justice for. These men haunt me day in and day out. “I’m going to get justice for all of you. I promise.”

At least I hope I will, but it’s been weeks, and The Butcher is silent, which means the only thing we have to go on is whatever evidence we already have, and that’s not much.

The person who did these unspeakable things to these men deserves to be behind bars and if I can’t get that for them, what the fuck am I doing here? It’s a question I usually pose to Jay who is—once again—missing in action. I call him to find out where he is, but it rolls right over to voicemail. Six times now, just today.

He worries me. I hope he doesn’t have a terminal illness or something equally bad. Then again, he’s still with Cassandra and she might have something unspeakable, and he doesn’t want to tell me. Not that it’s any of my business.

When my shift is over, I leave it all behind and go in search of Amelia. I’m ready for birria nachos and a few ice-cold beers. Maybe what I need is girl talk and spend time with my friend. Maybe clearing my mind will help me see things I haven’t seen yet.

“Frankie!” Amelia is leaving her office just as I round the corner in the precinct. We both spot Damien at the same time. Her shoulders fall in disappointment, but I can’t help the excitement that bubbles up inside of me when I see him.

“Hey babe. What are you doing here?”

Damien greets me with a kiss so hot it melts the bones in my legs. I kiss him back with all the longing I have for him. “I’m here for you, of course.”

“Me? I wasn’t expecting you,” I tell him. “Amelia and I are going out for dinner and girl talk.”

The light in his eyes dims and instantly I feel terrible. What kind of wife turns down her husband who shows up at work to surprise her? “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you had plans. I got us last minute reservations at Seaside by Marco.”

Seaside by Marco is only the newest, hottest and the hippest restaurant in Los Angeles. They specialize in seafood dishes from around the globe and everyone who’s anyone is waiting to get a table there. Damien got us a table. “You did?”

He nods. “I should have called you ahead of time,” he begins with a sincere expression. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to surprise you.”

“It’s okay. You know I love surprises.” I take his hand in mine, brushing a kiss to his knuckles. “Just let me reschedule with Amelia, okay?”

His nod is slow and unsure, and I feel worse. “Just a few minutes, I promise.”

Amelia is shaking her head as I approach her. “You’re not going out with me.” It’s not a question, just a disappointing fact.

“He got us reservations at Seaside by Marco,” I say, trying to sound excited, but I see the disgust on her face.

She rolls her eyes. “Impressive, but don’t you see what he’s doing?”

I frown. “Being incredibly romantic?”

Amelia’s sigh is well past annoyed. “Sure, it’s romantic. It’s also incredibly controlling. You see him doing all these wonderful things for you, but I see a man who’s holding on to you so tight that you can’t have a life of your own.”

“That’s not true,” I insist.

“It is,” she snaps, her gaze darting over my shoulder to Damien. “You couldn’t work out with me last week. Why?”

“You’re ridiculous. Damien upgraded the home gym, so I’d be safe.” I don’t love the home gym but it’s a thoughtful gesture and I am grateful. “Fine, maybe he’s hanging on a little tight after my house was burned down but he’s just worried.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s all it is. Worry.” Amelia takes a step back. “You know, I always thought it was bullshit when people say you lose your friends when they get married, but I’ve tried to spend time with you and it’s obvious to me now you just don’t want that.”

“Ames,” I begin, but she doesn’t want to hear it.

“I’ll see you around, Frankie. Or not. Enjoy Seaside by Marco.” With that parting shot, she brushes past me and goes back into her office, slamming the door behind her.

I want to go after her, badly. Amelia is my friend, and I don’t want her to feel like I don’t value our friendship but I’m a newlywed and it makes sense that I want to spend more time with Damien right now. Later, I promise myself. I’ll make it up to her in the morning.

I hope there’s a path to forgiveness as I make my way back to Damien.

“Everything all right? That looked intense.”

“It will be all right,” I say but I’m not ready to talk about it. “Let’s go. Am I dressed okay?”

His gaze rakes over me as heavy and intense as a caress. “No, but I have something for you.” He hands me a bag that has some heft to it.

I roll my eyes. “You don’t have to keep buying me things, Damien. I love you for you.”

“I know and I love you, but I enjoy spoiling you. The look of surprise you get never fails to make my cock hard. I can help you change if you like?”

I laugh at his jumping brows. “We are not having sex inside this precinct.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” he says with a teasing smile.

“It’s not,” I insist. “I’ll be back soon.”

The dress is perfect. It’s nothing more than a thin layer of teal silk, but somehow it hugs all of my curves and hides the evidence of too many carbs throughout my workday. The nude pumps are beautiful, and I feel sexy as hell as I rush out to meet Damien.

“Damn Francesca, you are stunning.” He takes my hand, practically yanking me from the precinct. “Half of me just wants to take you home so no one else can see you in that dress.”

I laugh. “And the other half?”

“Wants the entire fucking city to see you and know you’re mine.”

Mine. The word is so possessive. So hot and searing, like he’s branding me his in a thousand different ways.

The entire night is magical, from the sea-themed restaurant and the courteous waitstaff who treat us like royalty. The tasting menu is mouthwatering. Every salty, brine-y bite is something I’ll remember forever. “Wow, this is fantastic.”

Damien’s eyes sparkle with amusement and something darker. “What’s fantastic is watching you enjoy good food so immensely. The sounds you make are giving me ideas for later.”

That look sets my body on fire. “In that case, I can’t wait for later.”

His lips curl up. “Neither can I. Watching you in that dress has been torturing me all night.”

“Good.” I lean in with a mischievous smile on my face. “It’s so slinky I can’t wear anything under it. Nothing, Damien.”

His gaze is jet black and full of lust. “Check please,” he growls at the first server he sees.

“Right away, sir.”

Ten minutes later we’re in the car rushing back to the penthouse. My thighs are squeezed so tight when the car slams to a stop in the parking spot reserved for the penthouse. We both jump out like two horny teenagers.

Damien’s hands are all over me inside the elevator, sliding up and down my waist and hips before his hands settle on my ass. “Love this fucking dress.”

“Me too. Thank you, my sweet husband.” I wonder if I’ll ever get tired of saying that. Doubtful.

His kisses make me melt and too soon, the elevator doors slide open and we’re inside the penthouse. It’s been a perfect night with an amazing dinner. Now it’s time for dessert.

As if the universe has a twisted sense of humor, Damien’s phone rings. I keep my expression carefully blank because I know a call this time of night can very well be a business emergency, which means dessert has to wait. He answers the phone and then mouths the words, “I’ll be right up,” to me.

I nod and make my way up to our bedroom, slowly undressing because I’m hopeful Damien’s call will finish quickly, and he’ll catch me undressing. Ten minutes later, I’m totally naked and waiting on top of the plush bedding.

And waiting.

And waiting some more.

He’s not coming.

I know the smart thing would be to just grab some pajamas and go to bed, but I’m not that woman. I’m a detective who always needs answers and right now I just want to make sure everything is okay.

And he’s not talking to another woman.

My foot hits the bottom step when I hear the strain in Damien’s voice. “No,” he hisses. “You need to stay the fuck away.”

Stay away? I have no clue who he could be talking to, but I’m instantly wary. So many things race through my mind, the first being Jess’ words on my wedding day and the next thing is even more worrying.

The Butcher of Beverly Hills.

“No, I don’t give a fuck. Just stay the hell away from me and my family.”

Family? Does he mean me or his sister Olivia? I stand there, rooted in place with my breath caught in my chest, eavesdropping on my husband like a jealous wife.

“If I see you around, you’ll regret it.” His words come out on a snarl and when he turns, he freezes in shock at the sight of me. “I thought I told you to wait for me upstairs.”

“I waited, for a long damn time. And then I thought maybe you forgot about me or maybe something was wrong. Looks like I was right.”

He shakes his head. “No, that was nothing.”

“Liar!” Now I’m angry. “Who was that, Damien? Who are you telling to stay away from you and your family?”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the way he does when he’s forced to deal with an issue he doesn’t want to. “Francesca, please. It’s none of your damn concern.”

Those words piss me off, but they also hurt. “I’m your wife and it’s none of my concern ? Wow, it’s good to know where I stand.”

“Don’t give me that shit,” he roars. “We’re having this conversation because once again, you don’t trust me. What the fuck do I have to do to get you to trust me, Francesca?”

“Tell me the truth for starters. Is that really so difficult to ask a husband to do?”

“You’re jealous,” he accuses.

“No,” I shake my head insistently. “I’m not jealous Damien, I’m worried. You’re secretive and sneaking around, telling someone to stay away. Most women might think you’re having an affair, but I am not most women. You’re my husband. What happened to being my partner, my confidant?”

Something flashes in his eyes, but it’s gone quickly. “That’s what I love about you, kitten. You’re always practical. Caring.”

I shake my head. “I love you too, but your compliments won’t get you out of this. Not this time. You know what I think? I think the killer is playing games with you, and that you think you’re keeping me safe by not involving me and that’s fucking stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. He’s going to set a trap for you, and I won’t get to you in time because you don’t trust me enough to involve me in what’s going on, damn you!” My legs shake as the truth crashes down around me. “Oh my God, you don’t trust me.” I look around and make it to the sofa before my legs give out.

“Francesca, that’s not true.”

“It is true. It’s my job to catch this guy and you think I can’t do it. You don’t trust me; you don’t believe in me.” My heart breaks in two at the realization.

“Are you serious?” he yells. “You are the most capable woman I’ve ever known. Of course you’ll catch this jerk. I believe in you. I can’t believe you said that.” He runs one hand and then the other through his hair before exhaling deeply.

“Then tell me who called.”

A storm brews in his hazel eyes as he shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“Exactly.” I rise and shake my head in disbelief.

“This is absurd. I’m heading to the office where I can find some peace.”

Tears form in my eyes, and I shake my head. “Well, if The Butcher comes after you, just know that I love you.”

Damien shakes his head at me, furious as hell, but he doesn’t say a word. He grabs his keys and wallet and storms out of the penthouse, leaving an angry silence in his wake.

I stomp back up the stairs. I can’t believe I gave up dinner with Amelia for this shit.