Marked (Marked #3) (20 page)

Talan was waiting for me just outside the door. Gulver and he were talking; the tone didn’t seem to be a friendly one by the look of anger on my tatt boy’s face. What the fuck happened now?

“Gentlemen.” Each turned their face to look over at me with a worried expression. “Spill.”

“Is she always so demanding? Straight to the point.” That was the detective’s idea of a joke. A weak one at best.

I didn’t respond and instead turned to look at my tatt boy with a raised brow. “I’m moody and tired, Talan. Don’t hide shit from me.”

“You look exhausted, Bitty.” Coming closer, he framed my face with his hands while running his thumbs down my cheek in soft strokes. “What happened in there?”

“Quit distracting me.” I sighed, my body sagging a bit at his closeness. “You two were—”

“Answer my question please.” His voice, so worried and tired, made me swallow back the tirade I was prepared to unleash. “Baby?”

“Nothing I wasn’t prepared for.” Turning my face into his palm, I kissed it before giving it a quick nip. “Two hours of questioning. From what I did the day before to when you fired her. Everything. Her public defender is a pitbull in sheep’s clothing. He’s trying to find fault in how she was treated, maybe turn her manic episode into our fault.”

“That won’t work,” Gulver interrupted, almost looked sheepish as we both turned to look his way.

“Explain.” It left him as a low growl. Yeah, tatt boy wasn’t happy about the intrusion into our moment.

“Settle down, son.” There was a hint of amusement. A slight crinkling at the corner of the detective’s mouth while he addressed him. Made him look a bit older; distinguished.

“Why in the blue fuck do people like to call me son? I’m in my mid-thirties?” I couldn’t help it and laughed while he looked down at me as if I’d lost my head. Just bubbled out of me in loud squeals that caused the entire room—including the miserable old bitch at the reception area—to look over at me. “Fuck you laughing at, shorty?”

“Oh, God, no.” It was hard to get that out through my giggles. “Don’t ever call me a shorty…this isn’t the 90s, babe.”

“Did she just call me old?”

“Sorry,
son
.” We didn’t miss the extra emphasis on the word. “But I do believe she just did.”

“With all the respect in the world,” he spoke through clenched teeth, “but fuck you both.”

“Come on, tatt boy. Don’t be a sullen Talan. I needed that laugh.” As if on cue, the annoyance drained out of him and he hugged me close. He squeezed me as hard as he could without causing me to wince and kissed the crown of my head. “Forgive me?”

“Shut up,” was his grumpy reply delivered after a deep inhale.

“Love you too, babe.” Gulver, who stood in my direct line of sight, just shook his head at me in both awe and admonishment. “What?”

“You two are incorrigible. Just no words.” Too bad for him, I had plenty.

Disentangling myself from Talan’s hold, I turned to face the now worried-looking Gulver with a hand on my hip. “Funny, I still have a few. How about you fill me in on what you both were discussing. You know, before I walked out from back there. I don’t think hanging out here to talk sports and ink was reason enough for you to stay.”

Tatt boy chuckled behind me. “Knew you wouldn’t let that go.”

Looking back at him from over my shoulder, I winked. “That’s because you know me well. Now talk.”

“We were discussing a few things to do with your case.” He didn’t elaborate, and I raised a brow. “About a Dr. Luke Taylor…”

At the mention of his name, I felt the heat from Talan’s stare on me. The intensity from it bored into the side of my head. Burned me.

“The same idiot attending Janice down at Jackson Crisis? Same one that showed up at our home and demanded to speak with me—scared me half to death at first. All confidence and attitude, he tried so hard to villainize you in my eyes.”

“Yes, Bitty. He’s the one that Jaime spoke to us about at Crave. An old friend he called to come and help with her situation.”

“Don’t like him. Think he’s an asshole.” I bristled; his visit and the packet he sent to the shop were still very fresh on my mind.

“Explain, please.” Gulver grabbed a pen from his right breast pocket and then pulled out a small notepad from his satchel. With a hand over a blank sheet, he nodded for me to continue. “When did he show up? I need a time and date—as close to what you remember. What did he want?”

Before I could explain the reasoning behind the good doctor’s visit, my tatt boy interjected with his version of that day’s events. “I’m going to answer that for you, Detective. See, Dr. Asshat felt that Maya needed to be both warned about me and find out about Janice’s,” he spat the name with so much venom that even the man before us recoiled, “hospitalization. We’re aware of the fact that she Baker Acted herself and he’s her attending. The man sold her Ms. Moore’s familial history and her misdiagnosis. How she needed to be helped and not locked away to rot mentally behind steel bars. He’s looking to get her off with a slap to the wrist.”

“Are you kidding me? Does he not realize all the Hippocratic Oaths he broke?”

“To be honest, I think he’s more concerned with fixing her for his own gain.” My eyes shifted toward tatt boy’s, begged him not to say anything else.

“What do you mean, Talan? Why do you say that?”

Looking away from my penetrating stare, he turned toward Gulver and held up a hand. “I can’t make a statement on something I am not one hundred percent convinced of.”
Jesus, thank fuck.
“Look into them yourself. Just keep an open mind when you do.”

What the…

“Anything you want to add, babe?”

With a quick nod, I grasped his hand and pulled him toward me. “Yeah. Get me out of here.”

“Want to tell me now why you didn’t want the detective to know about what we suspect is going on between the Assclown and Janice?” He caught me off guard; I’d been sipping on my horchata when he dropped this on me. I knew it would come back to bite me in the ass, but come on, wait until I am done eating at the very least. “Can you, Bitty, because I’m drawing a big old blank here.”

We’d come straight home after picking up some nachos, and a torta for him, from a place on the way back. Nothing like Cancun, but what could I do? What I wanted was clear across on the opposite side of town. At the very least, this was decent enough.

Had to play my card right, not let him see what I wasn’t ready to share. That even though Janice’s doctor had left a bitter taste in my mouth, I still wanted him to help her. Actually get it right so she could move on.

Maybe, after she pays for her crimes, find happiness.

Didn’t help my avoidance technique one bit that on our door we had a letter from the man in question addressed to me. Just my name. It still sat unopened between our two plates of food. A glaring reminder of the conversation we needed to have.

Therefore, instead of sharing my thoughts I shrugged. Ignored his heated stare. “To me it’s irrelevant, Talan.”

“Bullshit.” Damn him and his one word replies that spoke louder than a cannon going off in the middle of the night. Said everything I couldn’t.

“Excuse me.” I’d bullshit my way through this if I had to.

Instead of explaining himself, he pushed the envelope toward me. “Open it and read it aloud. Go on.” Sexy, hardheaded beast.

“Eating, Talan. Respect the cuisine,” I sassed before popping another chip into my mouth. “No one likes soggy Mexican food.”

“Fucking brat,” he murmured, and I smiled while swinging my legs back and forth in my chair. Ripping the envelope open, he pulled out what looked to be an official hospital stationary letter with its seal on the bottom corner. Seemed legit anyways.

“Opening mail that isn’t addressed…” The glare sent my way made me zip my lips. Tempting his caveman,
‘you mine,’
personality was fun and very rewarding at times for me, but not in this instance. The look on his face dared me to continue.

No, thank you.

“Did you know about this?” There was an accusatory tinge to his tone I didn’t appreciate one bit. “Did you know he’d pull this shit, Maya?”

Food forgotten, I pushed the remainder away from us and placed my hand, face up, atop the table. Before my next exhale, his much bigger one intertwined with mine. Ire becoming a low simmer the longer we touched.

“Try again. This time without accusing me of what I have no knowledge of.”

To his credit, the stubborn man took in a few deep inhales and let them out slowly, self-soothing himself. “Maya, listen to my question very carefully before you answer. Do not lie to me. Your perfect and voluptuous ass won’t like me if you do.” Should I be offended? Fuck and no. The slick pussy between my thighs confirmed as much. Tatt boy knew it too; his nostrils flared a second before a lazy smirk overtaking his face proved it. “Dirty girl.”

“Are you complaining?” The offended look he gave me caused me to snort. “Thought as much. Now, tell me—what the hell did the jerk-off do?”

“This is a request for a group therapy session with both you and Janice. Of course he’d be the therapist there to moderate. You and that fucking bitch in the same room. After everything she’d done…over my dead fucking body, Bitty.” The sensual heat, raw power that he exuded mere seconds ago now turned into murderous rage. And I couldn’t blame him. Not one bit.

“Are they out of their ever-loving minds?” An answer wasn’t needed, and he knew this. Instead, he passed the letter so I could read it for myself. Son of a bitch; he was right.

Ms. Owens, we are writing to you to make you aware of the wishes of one of our patients. Janice Moore, with the assistance of her psychiatrist, Dr. Luke Taylor M.D., is requesting that you take into consideration a possible joint therapy session. If this is something you’d be interested in, please call our office at your earliest convenience.

At your earliest convenience.

At your earliest convenience.

At your earliest convenience.

“That motherfucker,” I spat through tightly clenches teeth. “Talan, I didn’t know he’d do this. Jesus…the audacity on him?”

“Good. You’re angry.”

Then I set my murderous glare on him. “The fuck?”

Was I angry? Maybe. Yes. A little. But at the same time he’d just presented me with a golden opportunity to get a lot of shit off my chest.

“You won’t do it.” With arms crossed over his chest, he appraised me. “Right?”

“Don’t fucking know.” Was the truth too. If there was a clue, I had none. There was no denying that the offer was tempting, to have her in one spot and ask her the questions that plagued my mind. Get some closure; I deserved that much.

“No.”

“Not your decision to make.” That rubbed him wrong, I could tell by the tick of his jaw. The way his hands clenched into tight fists atop the table. How his body coiled tight, ready to strike.

“Come again. Please, by all means, repeat that.”

“Don’t want to fight.”

His hands came down hard on the wooden structure, and the take-out cup he’d been drinking from fell. “Maya, cut the crap. Why?” Damn him for sounding so motherfucking sexy. Every cell in my body wanted to stay mad, but I couldn’t resist him. Doubt that I ever could.