Dwell in Possibility - Worcester Nights Book 1

Chapter 10

I held on as Sean carefully threaded the bike into the back lot behind the bar, drawing to a stop by the shed's door. I climbed off the back and stood aside as he unlocked the latch. When he pushed in the bike I followed him into the shed, not saying a word. My helmet had been firmly in place when he arrived at my street, and I had barely spoken on our trip over. He had been concerned, but seemed to ascribe my short answers to my flu. More than once he had asked if I wanted to call in sick again, but I had refused.

I wanted to see Jimmy with my own eyes.

How could Jimmy and his wife be involved with this? Surely there was some mistake. It was one thing for him to be overly amorous with every woman who came within reach. But what I had seen yesterday had escalated the situation beyond my worst nightmares. I could still not quite bring it all in. Some part of me hoped it was a mistake – a bizarre hallucination created by a flash fever.

But I knew, deep in my heart, that what I had seen was real.

Sean removed his helmet and put it on a high ledge, then turned to me. "Hand it over," he teased.

I blinked my eyes several times, took in a deep breath, then undid the latch. I slid the helmet up off my head and handed it to him.

He put it on the shelf alongside his, turned back to me – and stopped. He put a hand out to my cheek, his brow furrowing.

"Jesus Christ, Kay."

I flushed. I knew I looked ragged from the long night of crying and lack of sleep, but I had done the best I could with cold washcloths and make-up.

Apparently it had not been enough.

His voice was tight. "You need to go home, Kay. You don't look well at all. You should be in bed."

That's where I wanted to be – curled up beneath the covers, the pillow over my head, the door locked. But I resolutely shook my head.

"I'll be fine," I insisted. "I want to see Jimmy."

Something in my tone of voice caught his attention. He tilted his head slightly, like a hunting dog which has caught the barest hint of a hidden deer. His gaze settled more deeply into mine, and his fingers brushed down my cheek to my shoulder.

His voice steeled with concern and determination. "What is it, Kay? What's wrong?"

I couldn't help it. The exhaustion, the worry, the being apart from him, all coalesced into an ache which delved into my core. I folded against him, his arms automatically came up around me, and tears cascaded from my eyes.

He groaned, drawing me in hard against him. "What is it, Kay? Tell me what it is. Whatever it is, we'll face it together."

At long last he gently pushed me back, looking down into my eyes. His gaze called for me to trust in him. "You can tell me."

My throat closed up, and I could barely get the words out. "I know, Sean. I know the truth. And I don't know what to do."

A ripple of tension moved through him, and he turned for a moment, slipping his phone into the speaker on the shelf. A push of a button, and Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata began playing. Usually the slow, steady notes soothed me, but today they merely drove my panic into stronger waves.

Sean dropped his voice, taking my face between his hands. His gaze held mine with serious focus. "Kay, what do you know?"

I found it hard to even say the words out loud. "Sean, I followed you. I followed you into the warehouse. I saw the girls, and the bed, and then Mrs. O'Malley stripped the robe off that girl ..."