All I Want Read online

  Stupid vodka. Why couldn’t the alcohol have made her forget the taste of Parker, the heat he’d generated, the way his hard body had fit against her softer one?

  Instead, it was making her replay the entire scene every two seconds.

  Don’t think about it now, she ordered herself. Yeah, right. She’d have better luck attempting not to draw air into her lungs. Racing around her room to gather clothes, she headed to the bathroom, this time pausing outside the door to listen carefully before she barged in. The other shower had been fixed, so he’d probably be using that one. She still knocked twice to make certain before entering, rushing through her morning routine, forgoing makeup and hairstyling to be on time.

  So she was doubly mad when she finally arrived at the airport only to find that her morning flight lesson had been cancelled.

  Now she looked like crap and she had nothing to do for three hours.

  Parker had tried to go to bed, but after that kiss with Zoe he was way too keyed up to sleep and gave up after an hour. Instead he changed into running clothes and hit the streets.

  Running cleared his mind. Not that he’d been up to running since nearly being killed by Carver, but he thought today felt like a good day to get back to it.

  A few minutes in he was doubting that thanks to the fact that each step jarred his ribs and made him want to go crying to his mama.

  The sun wouldn’t rise for another hour. The air was high-altitude dry and a perfect-for-running fifty degrees. Probably later it would be a scorcher, but for now he had the cool predawn air and the world to himself, it seemed. The only sounds came from a high wind rustling the pines that were gently swaying like hundred-foot-tall ghosts and the sound of his feet hitting the pavement.

  When he came to a bridge he stopped in the middle and pretended to look down at the river beneath moving slow and meanderingly. Breathing hard, hurting like hell, he gulped for breath. After a few minutes, still not ready to continue, he pulled his phone from his running shorts pocket. Accessing his camera, he focused it on the last of the moon seemingly sinking into the water with the blue glow gliding over the rocky riverbed.

  He sent the pic to Amory, thumbing in a quick miss you. When he got a ping that told him the message had been sent, he shoved the phone back into his pocket and forced himself to keep going.

  As Sharon had pointed out, he needed to get back to lean, mean fighting shape for the job. He’d worked his ass off to climb the ranks. He wasn’t going to let anyone think he wasn’t able to get back to it. And if a small part of him realized that in pushing himself so hard to become something important, to make something of himself, he’d instead become a workaholic like the workaholic parents he resented, he ignored it.

  His phone buzzed an incoming text. He was smiling as he pulled it back out of his pocket, already formulating his teasing response about Amory being up so early.

  She loved when he sent her pics and stories. A late-in-life baby, she’d been born with Down syndrome when Parker had been twelve. Their parents had qualified for state funding and had gotten help, and they’d been lucky enough to have that help genuinely love and care for Amory. But this had created an unexpected problem. Amory had been overprotected and overshielded from normal life at every turn.

  She expressed only contentment with her life, but Parker could only imagine how constricting it was. She had to feel closed in by perimeters of her quiet existence.

  He hated that for her, and that more than anything else had him texting her pictures from wherever in the world he was as often as he could.

  But it wasn’t Amory on the phone.

  It was Kel. “So,” the sheriff said without preamble. “Interested in knowing that Cat’s Paw is suddenly a hot topic around the water cooler?”

  “Very,” Parker said. “Although word got back to my boss that I’ve been digging.”

  “You up shit creek?”

  “Without a paddle,” Parker confirmed. “Tell me you got something concrete to make it worthwhile.”

  “I’ve got a buddy in the ATF. He couldn’t confirm for certain, but word’s out that your guy cut some sort of a hush-hush deal.”

  Parker had suspected this very thing, but goddamn, that asshole didn’t deserve a deal of any kind. “Anything specific?”

  “Nothing,” Kel said. “Whatever’s going on up there, it’s above my pay grade. They still haven’t included any local law enforcement. I’ve got a few feelers out for more intel. I’ll keep you posted.”

  “Thanks,” Parker said. “Appreciate it.”

  “Stay safe.”

  “You, too.” Parker stared at his phone after he disconnected, torn by conflicting urges. He wanted to say fuck everyone and whatever they were waiting on and go in after Carver himself. But that was stupid and selfish, and he tried very hard not to be either of those things.

  He needed to play this safe but he wasn’t exactly in tune with his safe side. He looked at the time, and knowing it was two hours ahead in D.C. and that his boss would be up and in the office chewing on the balls of her underlings for breakfast while simultaneously running her world, he called her.

  “All I want to hear from you,” Sharon opened with, “is that you’re on a fucking island making your left hand jealous of your right.”

  “I have a theory,” Parker said.

  “Oh Christ. Is it that you’re a pain in my ass? Because that’s a fact, Parker, not a theory.”

  “I think Tripp Carver made a deal,” he said.

  Sharon’s silence went glacial.

  “I think he’s giving information,” Parker went on, “and in return he’s got his freedom. How am I doing? Am I close?”

  “We’re not having this conversation,” she said.

  Yeah, he was close.

  “Listen to me, Parker,” Sharon said. “You’re not able to see reason on this case because of Ned’s death, and I get it. But I’m trying to protect your job here.”

  He blew out a breath and rubbed his still-sore ribs. “I know, and I appreciate that. But I need you to be straight with me on this.”

  There was another long silence, during which Parker heard rustling and then a door shutting, as if Sharon was getting herself some privacy.

  “What did he have that made it worth keeping him in the wild?”

  “I’m not confirming this, Parker.”

  But nor was she denying. “Shit,” he said with disgust. “This is insane. To give him his freedom after all he’s done—”

  “You need to see the bigger picture here,” she said. “The much bigger picture, which, trust me, makes Carver look like a saint. Something’s going down and if you screw things up, I won’t be able to help you save your career. You have to let this go, Parker. Now repeat that back to me. You’ll let it go.”

  He got what she was saying. If he pursued this, he was risking the career he’d so painstakingly built, but Christ it went against the grain. “I want in on the takedown,” he said.

  “I can’t promise that. We’re not running the show.”

  Yeah, he was getting that loud and clear.

  “You know I’ll do what I can,” she said. “But in the meantime, stay the hell out of Idaho because if Carver sees you, he’ll run. He’ll vanish like smoke, and then he really will get away with it.”

  “He’s not going to see me.”

  “You willing to stake your career on it?” she asked. “Because right now he’s getting comfortable, and that’s right where we all need him to be. Comfortable. Cozy. Lazy.”

  Carver was a lot of things, but lazy wasn’t one of them. And yet Sharon was right. He had to let it go.

  For now.

  He went back to his run, halfway to dead when he stopped two miles later and bent over at the knees, gulping in air like it was his job. He was still there sucking wind when a truck pulled over in front of him on the side of the road.

  Wyatt got out. He was in cargo pants, a T-shirt that read VETERINARIAN: Because BADASS isn’t an official job t