by Morgan James
I quickly showered and dressed, then made my way out to the living room. Vince’s gaze snapped to mine as I paused at the end of the hallway. “I need to get out for a bit.”
He gave a little shake of his head. “No can do. Orders are to stay here.”
My anger bubbled up and over—anger at Mama, my anger at whomever was sending me these ridiculous notes, my anger at Vince, the overbearing asshole I lusted after but could never have.
“I don’t give a damn what your orders are. I am leaving this house. You can either come or sit your ass on the couch and wait for me to come back.”
Cutting at a diagonal across the room, I snatched my keys from the bowl on the hall table and made for the door that connected to the garage. I had just grabbed the handle when his hand appeared over my shoulder and slapped against the cool metal.
“Not a chance.”
I whipped around and shoved against him as hard as I could. The big jerk didn’t budge an inch, and it just pissed me off further. “I’m not your fucking prisoner! This is my house, my life, and I’m done!”
Annoyance crossed his face. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”
Hearing those words stung more than I thought they would. The bridge of my nose burned as I fought the tears stinging the backs of my eyes. I refused to let him see me upset, so I lashed back at him. “And you’re an arrogant prick.”
Without waiting for a reply, I reached behind me and grabbed the handle, then threw the door open. I stomped down the steps but was spun around as Vince grabbed my elbow, halting my progress.
“Goddamn it, Gemma, stop.”
I glared up at him. “Let me go.”
His jaw tensed, and fire flashed in his eyes as he stared down at me. “No. Stop being a fucking spoiled little brat for once in your life and learn to listen.”
The hand at my elbow tightened a fraction, and I pulled against his hold. He squeezed my arm, just enough to make a point, and I stumbled back as he released me. “God, you’re such a dick. Of all the people in the world, why do I have to be stuck with you?”
He scowled at me. “Is that the problem? You want someone else?”
What I wanted was for life to go back to normal. I wanted the police to catch the crazy idiot sending me love notes. I wanted Vince to want me the way I wanted him. I couldn’t stand to have him in my house, sleeping on my couch, knowing how much he despised me. Was it too much to ask for some pot-bellied bodyguard I wasn’t attracted to in the least?
“Yeah,” I snapped. “Maybe it is.”
He gave a slow shake of his head, then finally extended his hand toward my car. “Whatever the princess wants.”
“You should count yourself lucky you won’t have to put up with me anymore.”
I spun on a heel, then stormed to my car and slammed the door behind me. Using the app to lock my doors, I wasn’t paying attention and jumped when Vince knocked on the driver side window, a dark look on his face.
I cranked the engine and rolled the window down. “What?”
“Do you even know where the hell you’re going?”
I waved my phone at him. “GPS. I’ll figure it out.”
His jaw tensed and for a second, I thought he might drag me from the car and haul me back into the house. I held my breath until he huffed out a breath. “Fine. I’ll be right behind you.”
I let out the breath I’d been holding, then rolled up the window, watching in the rearview mirror as Vince climbed into his truck parked across the street and started it up. I reversed out of my driveway, hit the button to lower the garage door, then put the car in gear and started down the street. Throwing a glance Vince’s way, I saw him on the phone as he pulled a K-turn in the middle of the road and fell in behind me.
The voice from the GPS spoke up, telling me to make a right as the intersection at the end of my subdivision came into view. Beyond the stop sign, cars whizzed past on the busy four-lane road, and I pressed down on the brake. My foot went straight to the floor, and my heart jumped into my throat as I pumped the brake several more times. Cars became a colorful blur in my peripheral vision as I clenched my fingers around the wheel and sailed past the stop sign and right into traffic.
Chapter Five
Vince
My heart banged against my ribs as I watched Gemma blow through the stop sign at the end of the road. Her taillights were lit up bright red, but the car never slowed. The squeal of rubber on pavement filled the air as an oncoming car swerved out of Gemma’s path, just narrowly avoiding missing her.
“Fuck!”
Gemma’s Honda fishtailed wildly, then it jumped up over the median, sending it into a spin. Con’s voice came from the other end of the phone, but I couldn’t make out the words. I’d called to apprise him of the situation with Gemma but had forgotten all about him the second I watched her car spin out of control. “Gotta go.”
Throwing a glance in the rearview mirror, I slammed on my brakes and yanked my truck to the side of the road, then jumped out. I hit the ground running, already checking for traffic as I sprinted across the road to where Gemma’s car now sat facing me. The engine had stalled, but, with the exception of minor damage, the car appeared to be intact.
Thank God.
To my right, the driver who’d swerved to miss Gemma had also pulled over. He shoved the door open just as I ran past. “Call 911!”
Through the windshield, I could see white particles still floating in the air from when the airbag had deployed. I yanked the door open and leaned in, already reaching for her. I framed her face in my hands. “Miss Malone?” Her eyes appeared hazy and unfocused, and I tried again. “Gemma?”
She licked her lips, then blinked, long and slow before meeting my gaze. “I... I’m good.”
My eyes swept over the parts of her that I could see. “Do you hurt? Neck, head, anything?”
Head still trapped by my hands, she tried to shake her head. “Just... just a little sore. Whiplash.” She drew a deep breath. “My face hurts.”
Thank God she’d been wearing a seat belt or it would’ve been a hell of a lot worse. “You’ve got a couple little scrapes, but nothing major. Nose doesn’t look broken.”
“Okay.”
I reached across her torso and released her seat belt. “Let’s get you out of here.”
The driver I’d seen appeared at my side as I helped Gemma from the car. “Is she okay?”
Gemma swayed on her feet unsteadily, and I locked an arm around her waist. “Yeah. You good?”
“Fine.” He gestured toward the car with his phone. “Police are on their way—I just hung up with them.”
“Thanks.”
I turned back to Gemma. “You want to sit?”
She nodded, and I gently lowered her to the ground, where I squatted next to her. “What happened?”
“I—I couldn’t stop.” Her entire body trembled. “The brakes just—I pressed the pedal, but—”
“It’s okay,” I said, cutting off her incoherent rambling. I settled my hand on her back and rubbed gently. “Just relax. It’s gonna be fine.”
A minute later I heard the faint sound of sirens approaching, and I pushed to my feet. I watched as the police pulled up first to secure the scene. A second unmarked car arrived less than a minute later, and a tall man in slacks and a blazer stepped out. He met my gaze over the hood of Gemma’s car and gave me a tight nod. He stopped to speak with one of the patrolmen before heading our direction.
Not moving from where Gemma sat by my feet, I held out a hand to him. “Vince Incarnato.”
“Lieutenant Roy Shepler. Anyone hurt?”
I gestured to Gemma. “Just a few scrapes and bruises from what I can tell.”
He lifted his chin in affirmation. “We’ll have EMS check her out. What happened?”
“Brake failure, I think.” I pointed to my truck across the intersection. “I was following her, and I could see the taillights but she never slowed down. She says she pushed the pedal but not
hing happened.”
The guy standing next to me spoke next. “I was headed south when she came from there.” He pointed toward her street. “The car hit the median and spun her.”
“Is that your car?” Shepler pointed to the Ford SUV along the side of the road, and the man nodded. “All right. I’ll need you to give your statement to one of the men.”
He waved over a patrolman, who guided the driver away, then Shepler turned back to us. “Let’s get out of the median.”
I extended a hand to Gemma, then lifted her to her feet and guided her across the road. She seemed more stable now, but I kept an arm around her just in case. As soon as we reached the sidewalk, the wail of sirens filled the air, and red and blue lights flashed, heralding the ambulance’s arrival.
Shepler turned to Gemma. “How are you feeling?”
“My head hurts,” she replied, “but I think I’m fine otherwise.”
“We’ll have the medic take a look at you. Do you want to do that now or wait?”
She gave a little flick of her hand. “I’ll be fine.”
“Okay, then. I’d like to hear your side of things.”
Gemma shot me a quick glance then licked her lips and turned her attention back to Lt. Shepler. “I was just getting ready to leave, to go for a drive. I was in a hurry because we’d argued, and—”
“What were you arguing about?” Shepler flicked a look at me before turning back to Gemma, whose cheeks had gone from unnaturally white to a soft pink.
“Vince didn’t want me to leave. I’ve been getting strange notes from someone, which is why they assigned a bodyguard to stay with me.”
Shepler looked back to me. “I assume the authorities are already aware of this?”
I nodded. “Detective Traeger over at the eighth precinct has copies of everything. You can double check with him.”
Satisfied with that answer, at least for now, Shepler turned back to Gemma. “Continue.”
She took another shaky breath. “I don’t know what happened. Everything seemed fine at first. But as soon as I got near the stop sign, and I pressed down on the brake...” She spread her fingers wide. “It went straight to the floor. I was confused at first, and I tried again, then realized my brakes were gone. The only thing I could think to do was pull the e-brake.”
Shepler made a few notations in a small notebook. “I would say you’re extremely lucky, considering how busy this cross street can be.”
“Believe me, I know.” A shudder racked Gemma’s body, and I tightened my hold a fraction, silently lending support.
He snapped the small notebook shut. “Okay. I’d like to take a look at the car while the medics check you over.”
Gemma nodded, and I guided her toward the ambulance. Ten minutes later, her scrapes cleaned and antibiotic ointment applied, we headed back over to where Shepler stood with two patrolmen. He turned toward us as we approached and gestured down the street. “You live right up here?”
Gemma pointed to the end of the street. “Last one from the end on the left.”
“Mind if I take a look?”
“Sure?”
She sounded confused when she responded, but I knew exactly what he was looking for. “They’re checking to see if there are any oil spots in the garage from where it may have leaked.”
I flicked a glance at Shepler. “Mind if I drive her back?”
I wanted to get my truck out of the way, and I knew Gemma was already stressed. The walk wasn’t far, but I could tell her adrenaline was crashing after the accident.
Thankfully, Shepler nodded. “I’ll follow you.”
The lieutenant climbed into the cruiser and followed me to Gemma’s house. I got her settled on the couch, then showed Shepler to the garage. As soon as I stepped inside, I saw it, and I let out a swift curse. “Son of a bitch.”
Shepler knelt by the small trickle of golden fluid pooled on the concrete floor of the garage. Some of it had run down into the drain a few feet away, but it was obvious enough that a good amount of fluid had seeped out of the lines.
The lieutenant hadn’t yet said a word, but I knew he suspected the same thing I did. Coupled with the recent notes, it was too much of a coincidence that her brakes had suddenly failed. I made routine checks around the house, and it pissed me off that someone may have slipped under my radar. Until we knew for certain, I didn’t want to say anything to Gemma.
I turned my attention to Shepler. “I’ve been with her here for the past three days, and her car hasn’t moved. I also do perimeter checks every hour, though we don’t know for sure that whoever’s sending the notes knows where she lives.”
“They don’t come here?”
I shook my head. “So far, they’ve been sent to her studio each time. She’s received around a dozen over the past two months.”
“Interesting.” He met my gaze. “You think it was intentional?”
“Absolutely.” And it fucking pissed me off that I’d missed it somehow.
He nodded slowly. “I glanced underneath, but the lines don’t appear to have been cut. We’ll need to bring it in, take a look to see if we can determine exactly what happened. Does anyone else have access to her house or garage?”
“Not that I’m aware of. She uses an electronic lock on the front door—I’m sure you saw—because she hates keys. I know this door”—I pointed to a steel and glass door in the corner of the garage that led to the side yard—“is always locked. I check it each time I make rounds.”
He pushed to his feet and strode that direction. It was still locked from the inside, and he yanked on a pair of blue nitrile gloves before he flipped the mechanism, then pulled the door open and inspected the handle from the outside. “Some minor scratches here.”
“Someone broke in?”
Shepler lifted one shoulder. “If I had to guess, I would say no. They look more superficial than anything, but I can’t afford to write anything off at this point. We’ll get one of the techs out here to print it, but I would suggest replacing the lock as soon as possible. We’ll leave this one in place until you get it swapped out, then I can have someone check the tumbler inside to see if it’s been tampered with.”
The thought made me see red. I was never this lax, yet someone had apparently managed to get into Gemma’s garage without my knowledge. Granted, without a witness, we wouldn’t have any idea of when, exactly, it’d occurred. The knowledge didn’t stem the anger and self-recrimination swirling in my gut, and I gritted my teeth before speaking. “I appreciate it.”
“I’d like to print both of you, if you think she’s up for it.”
I tipped my head toward the house. “Come on in.”
Gemma stood by the couch, watching curiously. “Everything okay?”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I lied. “Lt. Shepler just needs to get our fingerprints before he leaves.”
“Why?” Her brows drew together in confusion, her arms clutching even more tightly around her middle.
I chose my next words carefully, not wanting to give too much away. “In case they find fingerprints on anything, they’ll know which ones are yours and mine.”
It seemed to satisfy her curiosity, at least a little bit, and I breathed a sigh of relief despite the unease churning in my gut. Things had just gone from bad to worse, and I had a feeling this was just the beginning.
Chapter Six
Jana
“Someone want to tell me what the hell is going on here?”
I jumped and shrank away from the harsh voice, and a splash of water hit my feet. The sound of the front door closing reached my ears, immediately followed by the heavy footsteps of the two large men headed my way. The water bottle shook in my hands, and I hastily set it on the counter. A pair of dark eyes settled on me as Vince and the second man approached, sending a slither of unease down my spine.
“Miss Malone, you remember Connor Quentin, my boss.”
“Yes. Hi.” I shifted awkwardly.
The man tipped his c
hin at me, then glared at Vince. “Care to explain what happened?”
A muscle ticked in Vince’s jaw. “As I was telling you on the phone, we were just getting ready to come into headquarters when her brakes failed. She blew through the stop sign and hit the median.”
Con’s face darkened. “Your orders were to stay inside. If you can’t handle this, I’ll find someone else who can.”
“It wasn’t his fault,” I immediately cut in. Both men’s eyes jumped to me, and I trembled under the force of Con’s intense gaze. I swallowed hard. “I’m the one responsible. Vince tried to stop me, but I wouldn’t listen.”
Con stared at me. “You put your life in jeopardy, as well as one of my agent’s. I won’t tolerate that. You either follow the instructions given to you, or I will cut the contract right now.”
I knew if I dismissed Vince, Harvey would just insist on getting someone else. Arguing with this man would be an exercise in futility, but I steeled my backbone and strove to remain calm and rational. “My brakes failed, that’s all—”
“They were bled.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Your brakes were drained of all fluid. I spoke with Lt. Shepler on the way over here. They found the bleeder valve wide open and a significant amount of brake fluid in the drain in your garage.”
Ice sluiced through my veins. The police had been back to look around and take fingerprints, I knew that, but they hadn’t said much. I watched warily as Con tossed a manila folder on the countertop between us. My mouth opened, then snapped close again, and I was dimly aware of Vince murmuring a soft curse beside me.
“Do you understand why you’re under protection? Have they told you anything?” I reluctantly met Con’s gaze, then shook my head. His lips flattened into a thin line of displeasure. “Those letters you’ve been getting?” He spun the folder toward me and flipped open the front flap. “This one included a couple lovely recipes.”
“Recipes?” I tentatively touched the first page on top, a copy of a list of ingredients someone had scribbled on a piece of plain white paper. At the top where the words She-girl Stew. I slid the paper to the side and read the one beneath. Gemma-balaya.