Page 26 of What’s Left of You (What Left #2)

I wince. “Violent.”

“Increasingly.” He pauses again, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s why I’m late. I can’t talk about specifics-”

“Save it,” I say, tossing him the book. He catches it with ease, glaring down at the cover. “Read that garbage instead.”

“Did you find it insightful?” he asks dryly.

Thinking about the weird imagery makes my skin crawl. “A little too much.”

Sterling sighs, keeping his gaze on the book for another moment before stuffing it into an interior pocket in his jacket. It’s just like Xeno did, but once it’s tucked away he stands, pulls the jacket off, and drapes it over the back of his chair.

When he sits again, he rubs his eyes. Sterling looks exhausted and I realize that hearing about a new body should bother me more than it is.

I think reading that damn book is fucking with my brain.

His shoulders look tense, and I can feel the stress rolling off of him from the other side of the room.

I click my tongue. “Coffee.”

He grunts, and I get up to brew another cup. I can hear Jo moving about upstairs, so she should be down in a few minutes. “Why is it always coffee? Don’t you ever drink bourbon or something to take the edge off?”

I take a deep breath before turning back to face him.

“I don’t drink because of stress, I drink when I’m happy.

My father used alcohol to cope, and when he would get angry, he’d throw his whiskey glasses at us.

When I was seven one of the glasses broke beside my head and some of the glass got in my ear.

It left a scar on my face for years. Coffee makes me think. Liquor reminds me of the pain.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t… there’s no report on that.”

I shrug, turning back to the coffee maker. “One of the housekeepers pulled the glass she could reach out of my ear. Papa called a family friend to come over, who did scans of my ear and removed the rest. Fucked up my eardrum too. But it’s all off record because I never went to a hospital for it.”

He’s quiet long enough that I can hear Jo walking down the steps when he speaks again. “I’m so-”

“If you tell me you’re sorry for a moment in my past, I’m going to feed you the book I just threw at you. Be careful, Sterling.”

I hold his gaze for a moment longer before walking away to get the coffee. Last time he took sugar but no cream, so I make it the same way. Jo comes up behind me while I’m doing so, and I glance over my shoulder at her.

She came down in a shift dress. It’s loose, flowy, and I think she pulled it out of the dirty pile.

There’s wrinkles everywhere, but it's something I’ve seen her wear for years as a comfort item.

I’m not all that surprised by her choice, but it doesn’t hide the scars.

Most of them are now on display, and even if Sterling saw plenty of her skin last time it’s different now that we aren’t in the heat of the moment.

Her blue eyes meet mine before glancing past me towards Sterling. Her voice is low, but I think he can still hear her. “He looks tense.”

Pushing away the conversation we just had, I nod and finish stirring his coffee. “Just like you, darling. Take him this, I’ll make yours.”

She hesitates, staring down at the cup. After our talk last night her mind seems to be all over the place, and I imagine seeing the weird book her mother wrote was just another checkmark in the long list of mindfucks she’s experiencing.

I took care of her last night, but sex seemed to numb her pain instead of soothe it.

She’s still struggling, and I can see the war in her eyes as she looks between the cup and Sterling, who appears lost in something on his phone.

Reaching out, I tap her chin when she doesn’t move, leaning in to speak quietly to her. “Tell me your thoughts, Trauma.”

Her eyes flash. “We can’t do that again.”

I frown. “Did you not have fun the last time?”

She shakes her head. “No…” her voice trails off as she watches him, looking back after a few moments. “But we can’t. It’s a betrayal.”

“To Alastair?” I clarify, leaning back a little bit.

“Yes,” she breathes.

“Did you think we might actually reconnect with him?” I ask seriously. Alastair is a wild card and I think it’s a waste of time to focus on him. There’s little to no chance we’ll be together with him again. “Is that something you’ve fantasized about?”

Jo bites her lip, closing herself off as one arm wraps around her middle. The other lands on top of her arm, tracing one of the exposed scars. “I don’t know. But it was a possibility. Even slim. Like a… final request.”

I snort, but my back is to Sterling and I can’t tell if it caught his attention.

“Cute. I know how you care for him, Jo, but in reality the likelihood that you can be with Alastair again is slim. That would involve a lot of things lining up just right. If you want this, take it. Holding out on the possibility of being close to Alastair doesn’t change what’s happening right now.

We don’t know where he is, or if he’s ever coming back. ”

She swallows hard enough I can hear it. “I suppose.”

“Whatever’s left of Alastair when and if we see him again, we need to be prepared to pick up the pieces.

What’s left will be a different person altogether.

In our fantasy world maybe there’s a moment of time to be with him, but in reality, the chances aren’t high.

Right now, there’s something real, even if our time with Sterling is limited to the days and weeks it takes to return Alastair to prison. ”

Her eyes are so sad I’m certain I’ve killed her mood. But the reality is she can hope all she wants, but Alastair is a wanted man. He’ll go into maximum security and be guarded twenty-four seven the moment he’s caught. We don’t fit into that reality with him.

She blows out a breath, straightening her back as she grabs the mug. “I want my safe word to be trauma. I’ll say it to you instead of you saying it to me.”

I nod, but I have an issue with that. It might get misconstrued, and it’s not our normal word. I’m okay with changing it to whatever she wants, but this feels like it might get complicated by accident.

“If he wants one,” she breathes, moving to the living room, “he can ask for one.”

I watch Jo as she approaches Sterling, and he sets aside the phone. If he didn’t overhear anything I’d be surprised, and he watches her cautiously as she hands him the coffee. It’s cooled down by now, but he takes a sip and holds her gaze anyway.

That seems to be the cue she’s looking for, and circles around his chair. “You’re too stressed. Serial killers are going to turn your hair prematurely grey. Let me massage your shoulders.”

I snort when he tenses, his shoulders rising to his ears. “Is that a good idea, Jo?”

“It’s only a bad idea if you don’t like where it will end up,” she says seriously, stepping behind him. Before she starts she tugs the hairband off of her wrist and pulls her hair back into a ponytail high on her head. Once it’s situated, she winks at me.

That makes my smile return. Her confidence is growing, and she’s falling back into something that she likes. I’m just not sure how far Sterling will let it go.

He moans when she presses her palms into his shoulders, and I’ve had plenty of massages from Jo and given just as many in return. She’s good at it, but I imagine Sterling has a lot of knots with all the stress he’s under. It’s different from what either of us are experiencing with Alastair missing.

“Sex is how I cope when I’m struggling,” she says, and for once Sterling doesn’t freak out over her bluntness. “Sometimes it numbs the pain, but mostly it makes me focus on things that make me feel good, which is what matters.”

Sterling shakes his head, but he doesn’t shrug her off.

He’s helpless beneath her touch, and that’s the kind of effect Jo has on people.

Alastair never fell this hard for her charms, but I suppose he might have a different response after so many years.

If Jo has the chance to fulfill that fantasy at all.

“I need to be working,” he says, looking towards me. I shrug, letting him know he’ll get no help from me. He can easily stand and leave if he wants to, just like the last time. “We’re in the middle of an investigation. Victim eight-”

“Is there anything you can do about it right now?” Jo asks, tilting her head. It’s late in the afternoon now, and if Sterling ever took a break from his work realistically he would be getting off shift soon. “Will it make a difference if you get up right now and keep working?”

He fidgets as she presses her hands down, moving her attention more to his back. “Her family might appreciate it.”

“You found the family already? You’re doing better with her than victim six then. You have a whole team working this case. I think they can spare you for a while. This won’t take as long as you think.”

Sterling moans again as she slides her hands to his front, down his chest, and leans over the chair. I think she kisses his cheek, but it’s hard to tell from this angle. I don’t approach, deciding to keep watching for now and see how she plays this.

“If you want to punish yourself for not doing a better job, you may as well let us do it for you,” she says after a moment, standing up straight. “We can punish you for not catching the killers yet. Do you like pain with pleasure?”

My eyes flash, and I move across the room towards them. Jo likes pain too, but she’s usually the receiver not the dealer. Inflicting pain isn’t something she typically desires.

Sterling, like the smart boy he is, glances towards me. I smirk and sit across from them on the couch, opposite of how we were last time, and cross my arms. “Pick your poison, Agent. Trauma will take what she needs if you don’t say no.”

He groans, and Jo stops her half-assed massage to circle the chair. Just like I do to her, she catches his chin and meets his gaze. “If you fuck me, Sterling, you’ll give me everything you have. None of this wimping out, panicking shit. I want you to fuck me like you’ve been waiting to for years.”

I grin when he looks between us. She called him out, and he doesn’t know how to respond.

Jo’s kind enough to save him from doing so, reaching forward towards his pants.

He wiggles around to give her easier access instead of batting her hands away, and whatever reservations he has about this seem to bleed away.

She’s not shy, so there’s no reason he should have to be.

Her nimble fingers make quick work of his clothes, and his cock is free a moment later. I reach behind me and pull the curtains closed, which does nothing to distract Jo as she licks his tip, and Sterling is immediately lost to us as he throws his head back with a groan.

I watch as she sets a quick rhythm, wasting no time getting his cock wet with her mouth.

The piercings disappear the father down his cock she goes, and Sterling’s hand finds its way around her ponytail until he’s setting the rhythm.

I keep one eye on them, passing by to lock the door before I circle around behind the chair.

Sterling’s eyes lift to meet mine, and I give him a subtle nod.

If he fucks up, he’ll know in an instant. There’s no question about that.

I move the footstool from across the room until it’s behind Jo, the sound of her gagging around Sterling the only noise. She doesn’t flinch as I set up behind her, running my hands up and down her back as she keeps going, never breaking the rhythm they’ve set together.

Meeting Sterling’s eyes, I flip up the dress. She’s bare beneath, like I knew she would be, but his eyes widen at the surprise. I let him stare as I work off my own belt, letting the buckle jingle in the quiet so Jo’s well aware of what comes next.

He can’t tear his gaze away from mine as I start folding the belt, and Jo takes over the blowjob again as he’s distracted. “My turn.”