Every Little Breath: A Tense Psychological Thriller Full of Twists

As early morning sunlight streamed through the open blinds, waking Finn, he shielded his eyes and rolled over on to his side to face Casey. She had managed to position herself towards the centre of the bed, her long dark hair spilled across the pillow she was hugging, one leg drawn up between them and her lips slightly parted. At the moment she was out for the count, unsurprising as they had been up most of the night, and she looked peaceful, but he suspected that once she was awake she would try to flee. Given that he liked having her in his bed, despite how much bloody room she was taking up, he needed to figure out a way to keep her there.

Although he was tired, he knew he probably wouldn’t nod off again, so instead he contented himself with watching her sleep, her face just inches from his, resisting the urge to touch her, for fear of waking her. Eventually she changed position, rolling over so her back was to him and he gave in to the urge, brushing her hair to one side, leaving her neck and shoulder exposed, before tracing his fingertips lightly down her arm. Hearing her stir and realising she was awake, probably having a mini panic attack when she remembered she was in his bed, he slipped his arm around her, pulled her close against him, and whispered against her ear. ‘Good morning.’

She immediately stiffened, didn’t answer straightaway and he pressed his mouth against the nape of her neck, trailing hot little kisses just beneath her hairline, pleased when she let out a tiny gasp, well aware that it drove her crazy. Last night he had taken his time learning exactly what made her react and now he was aware of all of her weak spots, he intended to use that knowledge to his advantage.

She wriggled against him, managed to pull free, twisting over to face him, her cheeks flushed. ‘Hi. What time is it?’

‘Just gone six thirty.’

‘I need to go. Phoebe’s upstairs alone and I have stuff to do.’

‘It’s still early. Besides, I can think of a far better way to start the morning.’ Finn ran his palm down her side, over the curve of her hip and round to squeeze her bum cheek.

Her eyes widened slightly at that and for a moment she seemed to be considering his suggestion, but then she dug her heels in again. ‘I didn’t get hardly any work done yesterday, so I should really play catch-up and Phoebe needs to go out.’

‘Phoebe will be fine for another hour. You don’t normally take her out this early.’

‘Yes, but–’

‘And you have all day to work, if that’s really how you want to spend your Saturday.’

As she continued to protest, he shifted his weight, rolling her on to her back and pinning her beneath him, silencing her with a deep kiss.

‘If my dog pees on the floor again, you’re cleaning it up,’ she grumbled when he came up for air, though she made no attempt to push him off, her dark eyes heavy with lust.

‘Deal,’ he agreed, sliding lower and turning his attention to her breasts, liking it when she let out another gasp as his tongue teased her nipple. An extra hour would give him time to figure out how to keep her here for longer.

It was actually gone quarter past eight when she asked the time again. This time she was flat on her back and Finn wasn’t sure she would have the energy to get up straightaway. After he had managed to persuade her that morning sex was a good idea, she had been a more than willing participant and if he hadn’t already been smitten with Casey Fallon, he was halfway in love with her now.

She surprised him, bolting out of bed before he could stop her. ‘Okay, this time I really do need to go. If Phoebe’s peed on my new rug, you are paying to have it cleaned.’

Finn propped himself up on one elbow, didn’t bother to move, enjoying the view as he watched her hunting around the room for her clothes, recalling exactly what had happened to them. ‘If I agree to pay for the rug anyway, will you come back to bed?’

She shot him a look that warned him he wasn’t to mess with her, before disappearing out of the bedroom, and he waited patiently for her to return, for the penny to drop.

He heard her curse, fought to hide his grin as she reappeared in the bedroom, this time wearing the skimpy robe she had shown up on his doorstep in late last night. It barely hid anything and only made him want to rip it off her, much the same as he had done last night with her knickers and vest. Both items were in her hand, the vest with the broken spaghetti straps and the knickers with the… well, there wasn’t really much left of those, and he couldn’t quite decide if the colour in her cheeks was from embarrassment or annoyance.

‘I can’t wear these. They’re ruined.’ Her tone was calm, considering her heated expression.

‘No, you can’t,’ he agreed. ‘I guess we got a bit carried away last night.’

‘We?’ She raised a questioning eyebrow.

‘Well, you were there and I don’t remember you objecting a whole lot at the time.’ When she scowled at that, he quickly added, ‘Look, I’ll happily buy you some new underwear. I’ll even come with you and help you pick.’ He chanced a cheeky grin at that, noted she wasn’t quite back at the joking around stage yet.

‘I can’t go upstairs like this.’

‘You’ll be fine. I doubt anyone will be about.’

‘It’s nearly eight thirty. I can guarantee you if I leave your apartment dressed like this I will run into all of the neighbours.’

‘I guess you’d better stay here until it’s dark then and they’ve all gone to bed.’

‘This isn’t bloody funny.’ She balled up her ruined underwear and threw it at him. ‘You need to lend me some clothes.’

‘I don’t have anything that will fit you.’

‘I’m sure you must have something.’

‘Look, tell you what. Give me your key and I’ll go upstairs and get you some clothes.’

He saw her consider that idea, though she didn’t seem to like it. ‘You must have a T-shirt and a pair of jogging bottoms I could borrow.’

‘They’ll drown you. And then you really will look like you’re doing the walk of shame. Just give me your key. It’s the simplest solution.’

She huffed a little, clearly uncomfortable with the idea, before agreeing. ‘There’s a pair of jeans and a T-shirt over the back of the chair in my bedroom. Just bring those down, please.’

‘Okay, nothing else?’

‘Nothing else.’

‘I do have one stipulation if I am going upstairs to get your clothes.’

‘Which is?’ She sounded wary.

‘You stay and have breakfast with me before you leave.’

‘I can’t, Finn. I have to walk Phoebe.’

‘I’ll take her for a walk. I can bring her down when I go to get your clothes. I’ve got to take Bert out anyway.’ He climbed out of bed, found his jeans on the floor and pulled them on.

‘I don’t have time to stay for breakfast. I’m already having a late start,’ Casey grumbled.

Finn shrugged on his T-shirt. ‘Sure you do. It’s just half an hour.’

‘Look, just go get my clothes, okay.’

‘In exchange for breakfast.’

‘This isn’t a negotiation.’

‘Just consider it, okay?’ He slipped his arms around her waist, pulled her close and kissed the tip of her nose before releasing her. ‘Where’s your key?’

‘On the kitchen counter, I think.’

‘Okay, I’ll be back in a bit.’

Finn let himself out of his apartment and made his way upstairs.

It was probably for the best that Casey hadn’t done the walk of shame as Mrs Fletcher was lurking and he was only able to escape when her phone started ringing.

As he let himself into Casey’s apartment, Phoebe came running to the door, tail wagging, seeming a little agitated when she realised Finn wasn’t Casey.

‘Don’t worry. You’ll see her in a bit,’ he assured the dog, bending down to make a fuss of her.’

He went through into Casey’s bedroom, a pretty feminine space that smelt of perfumes and creams, and was dominated by a wrought-iron bed, covered in a patchwork quilt of sea-greens. Spotting the chair in the corner of the room, he didn’t linger, grabbed her T-shirt and jeans, and headed back into the main living space, Phoebe hot on his heels the whole time.

He wondered where Casey kept her lead. Decided the easiest way to find out was to ask Phoebe. ‘Do you want to go out?’

The little dog’s ears pricked up and she danced in circles around him before heading to the kitchen cupboard. Finn found her leash, clipped it on, and let her pull him towards the front door. It was then that he spotted it, the thin trail of red cotton that hung from the door handle and he reached down for a closer look. The other end of the cotton hung loose, but had tape attached to it, and he thought back to that night he had followed Casey up to her apartment to return her phone. She had been acting strangely, opening the door just an inch, hesitant to go inside while he was still there.

Putting Casey’s clothes on the counter and letting go of Phoebe’s lead for a moment, he opened the door and stepped outside, holding on to the taped end and pulling the door almost closed, leaving just enough room to pull the cotton down and tape it to the wall. Is that what she had been doing? Trying to detect if anyone had been in her home while she was out?

Inside the apartment Phoebe started whining, seeming convinced Finn was leaving without her.

‘It’s okay. I’m now coming back.’

He stepped back inside, removed the cotton from the door knob and folded it up, slipped it in his pocket.

Was this some paranoid thing Casey always did or was she worried someone had been in her new apartment? She hadn’t said anything, but then again, she wasn’t the most open book. Grabbing Phoebe’s lead and Casey’s clothes, he locked up and headed back downstairs, determined to find out what she was up to.

Casey lay flat on her back in the centre of Finn’s bed, her tired eyes closed, still wondering if she had made a huge mistake. Yes, she had just enjoyed a very memorable night and her itch had been well and truly scratched. She’d had a thing for Finn for so long and he had featured in so many of her daydreams and fantasies, she had feared it could be a let-down, but she need not have worried. If anything, it had been better than she could have imagined.

They lived in the same apartment block though. How could she possibly keep this casual?

She could propose to Finn that they maybe started up an arrangement, one like he’d had with Vicky, but she suspected he wanted more from her than that. If they started dating, how would she run away if things became too serious? Honestly, that scared the life out of her.

Hearing the front door open, she sat up, covering herself with the thin robe, though it barely protected her modesty. It wasn’t as if Finn hadn’t seen everything already; he had become intimately acquainted with every part of her body over the course of the night.

She blamed him for ripping her underwear, but truth be told she hadn’t thought through her attire before coming downstairs last night. What the hell had she been thinking, heading down two flights of stairs wearing just her underwear and a skimpy robe? She really only had herself to blame.

When Finn didn’t come through to the bedroom, she got up and wandered down the hallway into the living room, found him in the kitchen area, heating a pan and cracking eggs into a bowl, the kettle boiling.

‘What are you doing?’

He glanced over his shoulder at her and gave her a lazy grin. ‘Cooking eggs.’

‘Where are my clothes?’

He wiped his hands on the tea towel he had slung over his shoulder, reached down onto a chair and produced her T-shirt, throwing it to her. ‘Here.’

‘And my jeans. Please tell me you brought down my jeans?’

Phoebe picked that moment to bound on through from the open French doors, Bert trotting after her. Spotting Casey, her tail went frantic with excitement and she jumped up.

‘Hello, gorgeous, did you miss me?’ Casey made a fuss of her, rubbing behind her ears. ‘I’m now going to take you out.’ She noted Finn had ignored her question about her jeans, had turned back to the counter where he was busy putting bread in the toaster and beating the eggs.

‘She’s fine here for a bit. They have the garden,’ he commented, not bothering to glance round.

While his back was turned, Casey slipped out of the robe and pulled on her T-shirt, glad it covered down to the top of her thighs. ‘I told you I can’t stay for breakfast. If you give me my jeans we’ll get out of your hair. I’m sure you’re busy too.’

‘I’m in no rush.’

‘Finn, where are my jeans?’

This time he did turn, put his hands on the edge of the counter and looked at her.

‘I’ll give you your jeans, but first I want you to answer a question.’

Casey rolled her eyes, not in the mood for this. ‘I haven’t got time to play stupid games. Can you give me my jeans now, please?’

‘This isn’t a game.’ He reached into his pocket, pulled something out and held his open palm forward for her to see. ‘I just want to know what the purpose of this is?’

Her heart thumped uncomfortably as she recognised the cotton she had tied inside her front door. If she admitted why the cotton was there, and she suspected he already knew the answer to that, she would have to admit to her paranoia that she thought someone had been inside her apartment while she had been out. Normally she removed it, but last night she hadn’t been thinking clearly. Not wanting him to peg her as a nutjob, she went for the only defence she had. Anger. ‘Is that what you were doing upstairs, snooping?’

‘I wasn’t snooping.’

‘Now it makes sense why you wanted to go upstairs and get my things, why you wouldn’t lend me some clothes.’

‘I told you I wasn’t snooping.’ His tone was calm, but Casey saw the flash of temper in his eyes. ‘I spotted the cotton hanging from the door when I was leaving. It’s red, Casey, for chrissakes. You could have picked a less obvious colour.’

‘It was the only colour I had.’ She huffed out a sigh. ‘Just give me my jeans, please. I want to go.’

‘Tell me why the cotton was there and you can have them.’

‘It’s none of your business, Finn. Do I walk around your place demanding to know about your personal stuff? No.’

‘You have questions? Ask me anything you like. I don’t have secrets, Casey.’

‘Give me my jeans.’

‘Tell me about the cotton.’

They glared at each other across the counter, neither prepared to back down.

‘It’s none of your business,’ Casey said through gritted teeth.

‘Suit yourself.’ Finn turned his back on her, poured the egg mix into the heated pan. It crackled as it made contact.

Casey watched him, the muscle in his shoulder working as he used a spatula to scramble the eggs. The room slowly filled with the aroma of toasting bread and despite her annoyance with him, her mouth was watering, her belly rumbling.

It was the sex. Good sex always made her hungry.

Damn infuriating man. She was quite certain he would keep her here all day if she didn’t tell him what he wanted to know.

‘I did it so I would know if anyone broke into my apartment while I was out.’

He didn’t respond to that at first, took out two plates and loaded them with toast and eggs, poured coffee into cups. Eventually, he turned to face her again, shoved one of the cups towards her.

‘I told you I’m not staying for breakfast.’

‘It’s a cup of coffee, Casey. Chill out.’

She glanced warily at the two plates, but accepted the coffee anyway. The rich aroma was too much of a temptation. She was a morning coffee girl and it was probably because she hadn’t had her fix that she was being so cranky. Well… that and the fact that Finn Murphy seemed to know exactly how to push her irritation buttons.

She took a sip, closed her eyes for a moment as she savoured the taste. Not that she was going to admit it to him, but he made a good cup of coffee.

‘So why did you think someone might break into your apartment?’

As Finn asked the question, he brought the plates over to the table, went back for cutlery.

Casey glanced at the eggs. They looked and smelt good, and she took another sip of coffee to try and distract herself.

‘Why not?’ She shrugged when he returned to the table with knives and forks. ‘Better to be safe than sorry, right?’

He gave her a measured look. ‘Sit.’

‘I told you I’m not–’

‘Sit down and eat the damn eggs, Casey. Stop being stubborn just for the sake of it.’

She glared at him, but did as she was told. Now the food was in front of her she was ravenous. Of course, she didn’t admit that. She took a bite of toast and scrambled egg, had to stop herself from making a yum noise. No way was she giving Finn the satisfaction of knowing the food was good. ‘Okay, you’ve won. I’m eating your stupid eggs and I told you about the cotton. I want my jeans as soon as I’m finished. Then I’m going to leave here and I don’t want to see your face for the rest of the weekend, because you’re pissing me off, okay?’

The cocky bastard actually had the nerve to grin at her demand as he sat down at the table beside her. ‘You’re very cute when you get angry. Your cheeks go bright pink and you get two little creases between your eyebrows.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Again already? Can I finish my breakfast first?’

He caught her eye, his grin widening and Casey shovelled more food into her mouth to stop her own smirk. How did he do that, manage to make her laugh when she was angry with him?

‘So, is the cotton really a thing you always do, or is it just since you moved here?’ Finn asked when he had finished eating, setting down his knife and fork and picking up his coffee. He glanced at her over the top of the mug, blue eyes now sombre. ‘I’m not going to push. If you tell me it’s something you always do then fair enough. I just want to be sure nothing has happened here that’s made you feel unsafe.’

Casey considered lying, but she was pretty sure he already didn’t believe her, would only go along with the lie for the sake of keeping peace. He was annoying and pushy and kept sticking his nose into her business, but she was beginning to understand that he did it with no ulterior motive. He simply wanted to look out for her.

‘The first day I got here, we were outside unloading the van and I swear there was someone inside my apartment. I looked up at where my bedroom is and I saw a figure at the window staring down.’

‘Male or female?’

‘I don’t know. It was only fleeting. I told Zoe, but when she looked, whoever… whatever, it was, had gone. When we got upstairs the door was locked, just as it should be, and no one was inside.’

‘Okay. And there was no one due to meet you here? Not from the estate agents, no handy men or removal men?’

‘Nope. I had picked up the keys and I wasn’t expecting anyone.’ Casey paused, debating over telling him the rest. She felt stupid as she knew she couldn’t prove any of it, but she guessed he might as well know everything. ‘There’s more.’

Finn didn’t say anything. He sipped his coffee, eyes never leaving hers as he waited for her to continue.

‘That morning when I ran into you, when Phoebe peed outside your door, after I left you I took her for a walk. When I got back, I was sure someone had been inside my apartment while I was out.’ She told him about the subtle things she had noticed, aware she probably sounded like an idiot. ‘I know it sounds stupid, as nothing was missing. Why would someone break in if they didn’t want to steal from me?’

Although she had tried to downplay it, she could tell Finn was taking her seriously and that bolstered her confidence.

‘Have you considered getting an alarm, maybe a security camera?’

‘It’s on the list, though I haven’t got around to sorting it yet.’

‘I have a friend. Ex-cop. She can sort something out for you if you want me to speak to her.’

‘I don’t need anything fancy. It could just be that I’m being paranoid.’

‘Maybe.’ He studied her for a moment, blue eyes intense, and Casey resisted the urge to fidget under the scrutiny. ‘I’ll give her a call anyway. After what just happened to Saffron Pollard, I would rather you didn’t take any chances.’