Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

For the first time since she had been given her own show, Casey was dreading going on-air.

She wouldn’t be alone. Ricky was picking her up and intended to stay with her for the duration of the show, but even so, what if Steven (if that was really his name) called in again?

She honestly had no idea how she would react to that, was terrified of it happening, partly because he had scared the shit out of her, and also because his call last night had completely thrown her. She had been distracted for the rest of the show, tripping over her words and messing everything up. Justin hadn’t been particularly forgiving, reminding her that a professional would manage to keep it together. He had also been unhappy that she had called the police.

Casey hadn’t really had a choice though. She had no idea if Steven was playing a sick joke or if his threats were real. If she hadn’t called the police and something did happen, she would be wracked with guilt.

No one had been found murdered, which suggested it was a joke, but then Finn had told her about the missing woman he was investigating and, try as she might, Casey now couldn’t shake the feeling that something really bad had happened.

It didn’t help that Finn had been so cold towards her today. She understood that he was just doing his job, but he had been blunt with his questions and acted almost as if he didn’t know her.

She knew she deserved that after the way she had spoken to him. She hadn’t just been rude, she had behaved like a complete bitch. What had happened had been a long time ago and holding a pathetic teenage-crush grudge against him was ridiculous.

He had been so good to her before the whole pub incident, dealing with Gareth, looking after her and making sure she arrived safely home. And she had lost sight of that.

Tonight, before she left for work, she intended to try and put things right by going downstairs and telling him she was sorry. She would swallow her pride, knock on his door, praying to hell his girlfriend didn’t answer, then she hoped he might listen to her, realise that she had made a mistake, and accept her apology.

She took a bottle of wine with her, one she had been given as a housewarming gift, feeling that she shouldn’t show up empty-handed. She didn’t even know if he drank wine, but it was a token gesture and she wasn’t sure what else to take.

As she knocked on the door, waited for it to open, butterflies churned in her belly and part of her hoped he wasn’t home. It wasn’t that she was worried about apologising. Casey had never been one to shy away from saying sorry if she knew she was in the wrong. Finn had been so annoyed with her, though, and she wasn’t sure if her apology would be thrown back in her face.

She stood her ground, waited patiently, was debating whether to knock again or try later when noise came from inside the apartment and the door opened.

When he saw her standing on his doorstep, he frowned, but didn’t say anything, just arched a questioning eyebrow.

‘I wanted to stop by and properly apologise for what I said last night.’

When he didn’t react to that, his cool blue gaze sweeping over her, she squirmed and pushed on. ‘I was rude and I shouldn’t have said what I did. I know that you were only trying to help.’ She thrust the bottle towards him. ‘I brought a peace offering.’

For a moment she didn’t think he was going to accept the wine and she was aware of her cheeks heating under the scrutiny of his stare, but then he stepped back and pulled the door wide. ‘You’d better come in.’

Casey hesitated, couldn’t help feeling like she was being invited into the lion’s den. As she stepped past him, still clutching the bottle, her arm brushed against his chest and she was acutely aware of the heat of his body, could smell the soft subtle scent of aftershave. Something kicked in her gut and the butterflies churned faster.

Finn’s apartment was a similar layout to her own, but bigger and with higher ceilings, and she glanced around the light, welcoming space, a little more at ease. French doors were opened wide and she could see the garden beyond, a blush creeping into her cheeks as she thought about the occasions she had watched him outside, enjoying the shirtless view.

Right now he was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt that hung on broad shoulders, his feet bare and his hair a tousled mess, as he studied her intently.

Aware she still had hold of the wine, Casey moved to the central kitchen island and set it down. She remained behind the safety of the counter, liking the barrier it put between them. There was no getting away from it, Finn Murphy had become even more ridiculously attractive over the last fifteen years. Back when Casey had first met him, he was only in his early twenties, still very much a boy. There was nothing boyish about him now, though, and he was pressing every one of her yum buttons. That was not good. They were neighbours, could – if she was able to get past this ridiculous crush – perhaps become friends, plus, of course, there was the whole girlfriend thing.

Casey didn’t know how serious it was with Nicky/Vicky, could see no trace of a woman around the apartment – not that she was looking, of course. It was a homely, but masculine space, with no sign of feminine knick-knacks.

‘I brought red. I didn’t know what you drank.’

Finn nodded. ‘Thanks.’

Other than telling her to come inside, it was the first word he had spoken to her. Was he still really that mad?

‘You have a nice apartment. Your ceilings are really high.’ Jesus, that was goofy, Casey.

It was, but he had her flustered and she wasn’t sure what else to say. She had apologised and he hadn’t really accepted or declined it, and she wasn’t going to stoop to mention the weather. That left talking about the caller and the case he was working on or asking after his girlfriend. Casey had no plan to do either.

She should have just handed him the wine and gone back upstairs. Here in his apartment, trapped with all his brooding sexiness, she was painfully aware that she was acting like a gibbering fool, and her inability to behave like a normal human being around him was annoying her. She wasn’t an unconfident woman. There had been plenty of boyfriends and she wasn’t shy in the bedroom, so why did Finn Murphy always make her nervous?

Finn’s giant of a dog picked that moment to bound in from outside, his pale face covered in dirt, from where he had clearly been digging.

‘Damn it, Bert! We talked about the flower beds.’

Bert wasn’t listening, his focus on the new person in the room and a wide grin on his doggy face as he headed for Casey, all gangly limbs and wagging tail. She glanced down at her yellow dress, which was clean on, and took a step back. Uh oh.

‘For fuck’s sake, Bert. No!’ Finn’s instruction fell on deaf ears as Bert leapt up, launching giant filthy paws at Casey.

She took another step back, lost her footing, and went sprawling down on her arse, wincing as she landed on the same spot she had hurt previously. Before she could move, Bert clambered on top of her, liking the game, as he slobbered wet kisses over her face.

‘Finn!’

Casey was mortified, but to be fair Finn was wide-eyed in horror as he removed his dog, especially when Casey realised her dress had ridden up and her knickers were on show. She quickly pushed the material down, but not before making eye contact with him and realising he had seen. He averted his eyes, busied himself pushing Bert back outside and closing the French doors. By the time he turned back to face her, Casey was on her feet, trying to straighten her clothing and wiping at the smears of dirt on her dress.

‘This is becoming a habit, you and your animals knocking me on my arse,’ she grumbled, her cheeks still burning.

‘I’m sorry.’

She chanced a look at him, saw he was somewhere between embarrassed and amused, the corner of his mouth twitching as laughter threatened, and her annoyance melted as she struggled to stifle her own smirk.

You really couldn’t make it up. And to be fair to Bert, not that she was ready to admit this to Finn, the dog had been the perfect icebreaker. Gone was the brooding, hard-faced man who had opened the door to her. This was the Finn she knew and, thank God, he no longer seemed angry with her.

‘Let me get something to clean your dress.’

‘It’s okay, I’ll go back upstairs and change. I have time.’

He wasn’t listening to her, was already rinsing a dishcloth under the hot tap.

Casey backed up against the worktop when he stepped into her personal space, a little taken aback when, instead of handing her the cloth, he began dabbing at the stain on her neckline himself. She didn’t attempt to stop him, though, her body very aware of his closeness and the warmth of his knuckle against her collarbone, as he pulled the material taut.

‘I don’t think it’s going to come out without washing,’ she gently told him.

She dared to study his expression as he concentrated on the stain. The furrow between his tightly-knit brows, the long sweep of lashes, startled when he glanced up at her, the deep-blue pool of his eyes stirring up the butterflies again as he held her gaze.

‘You have a bit of dirt on your cheek.’

‘Do I?’ She was still looking at him, aware of the heat radiating from him, and her body was aching to close the gap, even though she knew it was wrong. And then his thumb was grazing down her cheekbone, his knee nudging between her legs, and she had to steady herself by holding on to the counter. His mouth was so close to hers, his breath warm on her face, lips almost touching, as he traced a path over her jawline.

Casey wanted to kiss him. She wanted his body pressed against hers. But it was wrong.

‘We can’t do this.’ She pushed him back, took a couple of big steps away from the counter, needing to put distance between them. Jesus Christ, she was going to need a cold shower before work. ‘You have a girlfriend. It’s wrong.’

She had morals. She wasn’t that girl and she wouldn’t be that girl.

‘What?’ He simply stared at her, shook his head. ‘No, I don’t.’

‘Nicky… Vicky… I met her, remember?’

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’

‘Yes, she is. You said she was. This… this is wrong.’

‘No, I didn’t.’ Finn looked both exasperated and amused. ‘She’s a police colleague. We work together.’

‘What?’ That threw Casey. Work together? But he had said…

Okay, actually, he hadn’t said. She had assumed. Though the woman had been here wearing one of Finn’s shirts the first time she had run into him, so she couldn’t be that wide of the mark. ‘But she was half-naked in your apartment.’

‘Yeah, that.’ Finn scrubbed his hands over his face, seemed to consider his words. ‘We… we kind of hook up occasionally between relationships.’

Casey’s eyes must have widened, because he quickly added, ‘But there’s nothing between us. We’re not seeing each other and neither of us want anything serious… with each other.’ His eyes twinkled and one corner of his mouth lifted. ‘She knows I like you.’

‘She does?’ Her brain processed that, her bottom lip dropping as she took in exactly what he had just said. ‘You do?’

‘Yeah, Casey, I do. I didn’t think I had been that subtle.’

And then he was closing the gap between them again and she was taking another step back, this time towards the safety of the door. His revelation had come out of the blue and she needed a little time to let it sink in.

‘I… um, I need to go and get ready for work.’

When he grinned broadly at that, looking amused that he had her flustered, her temper spiked. ‘You can’t just throw this at me, Finn. Five minutes ago you were in a foul mood and barely speaking to me. Now you’ve decided to tell me you don’t actually have a girlfriend and that you have… feelings for me, and apparently I am supposed to roll with it.’

‘I never told you I had a girlfriend. You assumed that.’

Her back was against the door now and he was still moving towards her, slower, but even so, closing in on her like some predatory animal.

‘Whatever, and stop right there, okay. Just stay where you are. Stay.’ She held up her hand to halt him from stepping into her space again, her palm hitting the wall of his chest, and she was aware of the heat from his skin, radiating through her fingers. ‘I need time to process all of this. It’s too fast.’

‘You want time?’

‘Yes! Now back off. You’re worse than your bloody dog.’

That made him chuckle, appealing dimples cutting into his cheeks as the sound rumbled low in his chest against her splayed hand. All these years later after his humiliating rejection and he had waltzed back into her life, was now telling her the words she had always wanted to hear him say, yet instead of completing her, it was scaring her half to death.

He was so different to Gareth, to Marcus, and to the other men she had been with and she remembered her one kiss with Finn so clearly, could recall exactly how it had made her feel. Gareth had never kissed her that way and she hadn’t been kissed like it since. Casey was used to being in charge of her life. She compartmentalised everything into its own place, and that included the men in her life, and she knew if she stepped off that ledge with Finn, she would lose control of that. She needed time to think through what had just happened, to consider his admission in a calm and rational way before she decided what to do about it, and she really, really needed that cold shower.

‘Okay, I can give you time.’

‘And space.’

‘Yeah, that too,’ he agreed, telling her what she wanted to hear while his hand did the exact opposite, closing over hers and removing it from his chest, taking that last dangerous step towards her.

‘Finn!’ Her voice came out as a squeak, as her heart pounded faster.

‘Hmm?’ He was a hair breadth from her, almost touching, but not quite, well, except for her hand. He still had hold of that, while the fingers of his free hand brushed her hair back from her face.

He was short-circuiting all of her senses, everything going haywire in her brain, and she couldn’t think straight. Giving in, she closed her eyes, her lips parting in anticipation, caught off guard when the stubble of his jaw grazed against her cheek, his head dipping lower until his mouth settled against her ear.

‘When you’re ready, I’ll be here waiting.’ His whisper caressed her skin, breath hot against her ear, then he stepped back, breaking the moment and Casey was glad the door was holding her up, was almost afraid to move in case she melted into a puddle on the floor.

How the fuck was she supposed to go and be a deejay now and talk to people like everything was normal? He knew what he had done, that he had just twisted her insides into knots. Oh yes, he knew. She could tell from that sly, lazy grin that was plastered on his smug face.

‘I need to go. I’ll be late for my show.’

She turned, fumbled with the door handle, all fingers and thumbs, annoyed when he reached over her and opened the door for her.

Christ, get a grip, Casey.

‘Well, enjoy the wine.’ She was stepping back out of his doorway as she spoke the words. Putting some distance between them was good.

‘I want you to call me tonight if you have any trouble.’

‘I’m sure everything will be fine.’

‘Promise me, Casey.’

‘Okay. If he calls I will let you know.’ When Finn’s eyes narrowed as if he didn’t believe her, she added, ‘I promise.’

‘And this friend of yours, tell him not to leave you alone in the studio.’

‘Stop being bossy.’

‘I’m not being bossy, I’m being concerned.’

‘He won’t leave. He’s driving me there and back.’

‘Good.’ Although he seemed satisfied with her answer, a muscle in his jaw twitched and Casey wondered if he was questioning who the friend was and what exact kind of friendship they had. He didn’t say any more, though, and she turned to go.

‘Casey.’

‘What?’ She was getting impatient now and she needed to get upstairs and sort herself out before Ricky arrived.

‘Stay safe.’

Her lips curved at that and she turned back, raising her hand to salute him. ‘Yes, Dad.’

She was aware of him watching her as she walked down the hallway and she hurried up the stairs, not pausing until she reached the top floor. As she reached into her dress pocket for her door key, she let out a deep breath, tried to get her head around what had just happened.

Finn Murphy had just hit on her. It was the last possible scenario she had been expecting and she honestly wasn’t quite sure how to react. Yes, she fancied the pants off him, but they were neighbours and that complicated things. For starters, she had no idea what he wanted from her, if it was just a fuck buddy thing like what he’d had with his police pal or something more serious.

She didn’t do serious, panicked whenever relationships started to become so, but likewise, was just a taste of Finn Murphy enough?

This was too complicated and she grumbled under her breath about the dilemma he had presented her with as she let herself into her apartment.

At the other end of the landing, a face pressed up against the door of number ten, eye lined up with the peephole, and watched as Casey Fallon, the late-night radio deejay with the husky voice and the pretty smile, disappeared inside her apartment.

In his hand he held her underwear, a pair of simple white knickers, and he buried his nose in the soft cotton material, inhaled the sweet scent of fabric conditioner, liked knowing that she had worn these, that they had been against her most intimate of places.

It would soon be time for her show and he was looking forward to tuning in.