Page 51 of Cross Checked
I carried the plates inside and rinsed them at the sink because doing something with my hands was better than putting them around Luke Dempsey’s throat in front of children.
The Bennett kitchen was warm and loud from the open windows, every counter covered in evidence of family. Mail stacked near the toaster. Kids’ drawings on the fridge. A grocery list written in three different handwritings. A framed photo of Bliss’s mother sat on a small shelf near the back door, tucked beside a little ceramic angel and a dried flower in a glass jar.
Cindy Bennett had Bliss’s smile. Or maybe Bliss had hers.
I stood there longer than I needed to, staring at the photo, thinking about the marble in Bliss’s pocket.
If it keeps her in the room, bring it.
I understood now why she needed the marble in her pocket.
This house was full of her mother and the man who had made Bliss afraid was welcome here. That was a cruelty I didn’t know how to name yet.
The back door opened behind me and Luke stepped inside and shut the door halfway, muting the yard noise just enough to make the kitchen feel smaller.
“You settling in with them pretty quick,” he said.
I turned off the water. “They’re easy people to like.”
“They are.” He leaned against the counter like this was casual. “Good family.”
“Yes.”
“Protective though.”
I dried my hands slowly on a dish towel. “They seem that way.”
His smile slid into place. “Especially with Bliss.”
I folded the towel and set it down. Luke watched the movement, eyes amused.
“She has that effect,” he said. “Makes people think she needs saving.”
My spine turned to ice. I kept my face empty. “Does she?”
His grin deepened. “You tell me. You’ve been around a lot lately.”
“And?”
“And I know how this goes.” He pushed off the counter, stepping closer by half a pace. “Pretty girl. Sad story. Big eyes. Makes a guy feel important.”
I stared at him. He was trying to warn me off. No, worse. He was trying to see if I knew enough to be warned.
“I’m here for a project,” I said.
“Sure.” He laughed softly. “That’s what she told you?”
Something ugly moved behind my ribs. Not loud. Not reckless. Focused.
I had been raised around men who did damage politely. Men who smiled in boardrooms while gutting people with contracts. Men who treated cruelty like strategy and charm like currency. Luke Dempsey was not as polished as them, but I recognized the shape of him.
He wanted control. He wanted the room. He wanted Bliss afraid and everyone else comfortable. “Is there something you want to say?” I asked.
His eyes sharpened and for one second, the grin dropped. Then the back door opened wider and Bliss appeared on the threshold. Her gaze moved from Luke to me and every bit of color faded from her face.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Luke turned instantly, smile back in place. “Nothing, Bug. Just talking hockey.”
