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Chapter Thirteen

Wyatt

A heavy sigh slips past my lips and I close my eyes and I run my hand through my hair before opening them again and staring up at the same spot on the ceiling that I’ve been staring at for hours. I’ve been here, thinking and making myself crazy since three this morning when I was woken up by a very vivid dream of Piper and me, with just one thought running through my head.

I fucked up.

The plan when I went over to her house last night was simple enough. Step one, find out if Eden was telling the truth about Piper lying to me and if she was, get Piper to open up and tell me whatever this big secret is. Step two, find a way to get my woman back. I’m not naive enough to think that it will be easy but after my little revelation at the barbecue last night, it is the only option.

See?

Simple.

Except, as soon as I walked through the door of her apartment and saw the ridiculous little shorts she was wearing that showed off her toned legs and I remembered what it felt like for them to be wrapped around my waist, I knew I was I trouble. When the smell of her honeysuckle perfume, the same stuff she used to wear when we were kids, surrounded me and I saw the framed photo of us on our wedding day proudly displayed on her bookshelf, I was fucking doomed. My head was swimming and I couldn’t ignore the way she makes me feel. It’s fucking insane that even after ten years apart, and all the pain and anger between us, that she can still do that to me but every cell in my body was screaming at me to pull her into my arms and never let her go again. I was going to use our connection and the insane chemistry between us to try and trip her up, forcing her into revealing something she didn’t intend to but I got careless and I was right there with her. Next thing I know, I’m balls deep inside my wife for the first time in ten years and demanding answers that she refused to give. Now, all I can fucking think about is doing it again. Groaning, I throw the covers off of my legs and sit up on the edge of the bed as I drop my head into my hands.

Fuck.

What a goddamn mess.

At least the night wasn’t a total waste, though. One thing I know for sure now is that Eden was telling the truth when she told me Piper is keeping secrets from me. Not that I know what those secrets are yet but as soon as I looked into Piper’s eyes, I knew she was lying. I honestly can’t believe I didn’t see if before and the other thing that became very clear to me last night is that Piper still loves me just as much as I love her.

So, why did she leave?

Shaking my head, I stand up and toss my covers back so the bed looks like I at least made an attempt to make it before I throw on some clothes and head downstairs. I don’t want to say that why she left me doesn’t matter anymore because I still want to know but it also has lost some significance after what happened last night. Whatever took her away from me ten years ago didn’t do anything to the love we share or our connection and if anything, I’m more determined to get my wife back than I was before. I’ve been a goddamn idiot for a decade and that ends now but first… I have to know what happened to make her leave me. It’s clear to me now that there never was anyone else if the look in her eyes and our wedding photo on her bookshelf is any indication but I am more confused now than I was before she walked back into my life.

What the hell made her leave?

Maybe I should just ask Streak to dig into her past but I want her to be the one to tell me. How could we truly move forward if she wasn’t?

Trudging into the kitchen, I sigh and after turning on the coffee maker, I sit down at the table and stare down at the files in a neat little stack before flipping open the first one. Laney’s picture stares back at me and I remember what Streak told me about Mitch last night. Sighing, I lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest as I stare at the file, my mind working through the new information… or lack of information, really. The fact that Streak can’t find any information on the man makes him even more suspicious but what can I do without hard evidence? God, maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree here. It takes a hell of a lot of brutality to commit these murders and if Mitch had that, shouldn’t we have seen it? Because there is a big difference between being a narcissistic asshole that hits your wife and the kind of psychopath that puts together a whole revenge plan that includes murdering three women.

The rich scent of coffee fills the air just before the machine beeps, letting me know it’s ready and I sigh as I stand up to grab a cup. I check my watch and glance over at the front door. After I got home last night, I tried to distract myself from how badly I had messed up and all the damn questions that have only gotten louder in the last twenty-four hours by reading through the files but I still couldn’t focus so I called Rodriguez to follow up on what Streak shared with me. He didn’t answer but maybe I can try him again now. I don’t know how much information he has to give me but truthfully, I’ll take anything at this point. It feels like I’ve been studying these damn files for years even though it’s only been a few months and I need to catch a break soon if I’m going to convince my brothers that we need to be looking into this. Stream billows around me as I pour myself a cup and turn, leaning back against the countertop as I sigh.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I dial his number and walk back over to the table, setting my coffee cup down before I slump in my chair. My gaze locks onto Laney’s picture again and I shake my head.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Diego. It’s Fuzz. You got a minute?” I ask, leaning forward and flipping the file closed. I can’t stand to look at her face anymore. It’s like she is mocking me with my inability to solve this or find any sort of evidence to back up my theory.

“Yeah, a couple. What’s up?”

“It’s about the cases.”

He sighs. “I don’t have anything new to give you, Fuzz. I really fucking wish I did but even I’m beginning to think I’m going crazy over here.”

“Yeah,” I mumble, running my hand through my hair. “Streak mentioned that you brought Dina’s husband, Mitch, in after she was killed…”

“That son of a bitch,” he hisses and I bite back a laugh. “He promised me he wouldn’t go through my files anymore.”

I chuckle, shaking my head. “Naw, he didn’t. He was looking into Mitch for me and saw that you brought him in for questioning.”

“Ah, okay…”

“He didn’t dig any further than that,” I assure him. “Out of respect for you, of course.”

He scoffs. “Respect, my ass. He won’t dig into my shit anymore because I told him I’d haul him into the station next time he did it.”

“Shit,” I reply, laughing as I shake my head and picture the look on Streak’s face if Rodriguez stormed the clubhouse and put him in cuffs. Rodriguez chuckles.