Not kidnapped.
Not with another man.
Just willfully and knowingly putting herself in danger as if she’s not my fucking heart, walking around at risk. My relief swirls with frustrated anger at her lackadaisical attitude.
No, not her attitude. I’m angry with myself, for not using my head and realizing that Allie has people in her life. Decent people whom I have yet to meet. I need to leave, get myself under control.
How ironic is that?
The man of utmost control almost spinning out because his woman went out for an impromptu dinner with her brother?
My jaw muscles nearly cramp as I gnash my teeth, trying to force out some words that might explain my actions without making too much of an idiot of myself.
“I thought you’d been kidnapped, Allie,” I say quietly, her eyes softening when she sees the emotion underneath my voice. “I feared I would be painting the streets red with the blood of whoever dared to lay a finger on you. While you were out having fun and sipping smoothies, I was trying to determine whether I would have to save you or avenge you.”
Her chin drops and her eyes go to the floor. “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think. I’m not used to all this yet.”
I nod my head and clear my throat. “Look at me.”
She looks up at me, and I realize . . . there’s no reason to apologize. The fault is mine and mine alone, and it’s my responsibility to educate her about my life. Something I’ve been woefully inadequate with if she didn’t understand the possible ramifications of her actions. A simple phone call is all it would’ve taken, from either of us, and this whole mess could’ve been avoided.
“We’ll talk about this later, but you did nothing wrong. I’m sorry. Logan will be downstairs tonight. Enjoy your visit with your brother.”
I take the few steps toward her, laying a kiss to her temple as I hold her hand for a brief moment. I can feel the tension through TJ, and his grip on the gun tightens ever so slightly, though his finger is off the trigger. He’s still uncertain whether I pose a threat to his sister.
There are times to answer a question with words . . . but I believe TJ needs a more visceral demonstration. Before my lips even lose contact with Allie’s skin, I make a grab for the gun, quickly and easily twisting it from his hand, a maneuver I learned years ago and still have the occasion to use from time to time.
“Motherfuck—” he stutters loudly. Instead of turning his gun around on him, though, I take a step back, dropping the clip and clearing the chamber before I offer it back to him, grip-first.
“A hint. In my line of work, if you pull a gun, you’d better be prepared to use it without hesitation. If you don’t, you could end up having it taken from you, or worse.”
His face flushes with indignation at being disarmed, but he reaches his hand out and takes it. “I look forward to our next meeting,” I tell him.
In the silence of the moment, I leave, not sure what to make of everything that just happened. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, not one I commonly feel. Simply put, Allie has me on such a tight rope, so readily able to pull me this way and that. It’s discomforting.
But at the same time, I want nothing more than to be on her string, and her on mine, endlessly tied up in one another. I stride to the elevator, getting on, and though I have every intention of hitting One, my finger hovers and I press Four, admitting to myself at least that I can’t leave her tonight.
Not after all the ugly images my fear played through my head, like a horror movie I couldn’t escape. Before I call Logan and inform him of my change of plans, I place a call to another old friend.
“Yeah, it’s me. I need everything you can get me on a TJ Bancroft. Tonight.”
Chapter 13
Allie
Dom closes the door behind himself with a soft snick. The silence is painful. It would have been easier if he’d slammed it or yelled at me, storming out of here. At least then, I could get a read on how angry he must be.
Instead, he walked out almost like a phantom, his presence here but at the same time, I don’t even have anything to lash back against. He somehow makes the quiet sound of the door shutting behind him sound like a gunshot to my heart.
I know I’m not wrong. I’m just not used to the transparency of a detail and somehow needing to report my whereabouts to someone.
He’s not wrong either though. If I’m to accept him as part of my life, I need to recognize that he has enemies, enemies who would use me as a weapon against him if they had a chance. What’s that old saying? It’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you?
That’s Dominick’s life every day.
From beside me, TJ kneels, picking up the clip from his gun before hunting for the single ejected round and replacing them before turning to me.
“What the fuck was that, Allie?”
I sigh, looking at him and wondering when I get to ask him why my big brother’s carrying a gun like he’s a gangster himself. “Let me get you a beer. It’s kind of a long story.”
TJ says nothing for a minute, casually plopping down on the couch and making himself at home while I grab him a beer from the fridge and pour myself a hearty glass of red wine. I’m pretty sure I’m going to need it.
Handing TJ his beer, I sit down on the floor, a cushion under my butt.
“I don’t know where to start,” I say, truthfully not sure how to explain the dance I’ve been doing with Dominick for months, nor who he is, exactly, both to me and to East Robinsville. “How about you start with why you’re carrying a gun?”
TJ shakes his head. “Nice attempt at diversion, but remember, I taught you those tricks. So we’ll talk about that later, maybe. Right now, I’m worried about my sister, who just had some guy chilling in her apartment when she got home. So let’s start with who the fuck that guy is to you. Then tell me why you have a fucking guard detail. And wrap it up with how some slick asshole in a custom-tailored suit just disarmed me like I’m a damn noob. My old Top Sergeant would have kicked my ass if he’d seen that.”
His voice is nearly a yell, but I know he’s worried about me. My brother . . . still my protector, in his mind.
It takes me a little while, a full glass of wine for me, and TJ’s three-quarters of the way through his beer while I give him an edited version, explaining that Dom’s my boss at the club, and how we’d flirted and made eyes for months before anything actually happened. That recently, we’ve become more.
“So anyway, we sort of have a thing going.”
“Are you telling me that your strip-club-owner boss is now your boyfriend?” TJ growls, disbelief and anger mixing in equal parts in his voice. “Are you shitting me, Allie-gator?”
I smile a bit at the label, even though TJ’s obviously not happy about it. “You just saw him. Would you say he’s a boy-anything? Yes, we’re dating. Although, he’s not really the casual type. Neither am I, I guess. It’s gotten very serious, very fast. And before you ask, he isn’t taking advantage of me because of work. He stayed away from me because of his being my boss. Not until my work contract changed did he even approach me.”
TJ swallows back his frustration and finishes off his beer. “Okay, so you’ve got a boyfriend. I’m not done with that, but let’s move on to question two. Why do you have a protective detail? Are you in trouble?”
I shake my head, standing up to get us both refills. “No, not really. He’s just being careful. He’s a powerful man in this city, and that comes with risks, Teej. They’re real, and Dom’s well-equipped to handle them. I’m not, and I’m certainly not used to being a risk. I just didn’t think about it when I saw you. I know better.”
TJ looks incredulous, accepting his beer only by reflex. “You know better? Are you serious right now? Do you hear yourself? Is that why you suddenly went from laughing and giggly girl-out-with-her-brother to shrinking-violet-apologetic when you saw him? If that’s what he does to you, I should have pulled the fucking trigger.”
I shift, pulling my
legs underneath me and taking a big gulp of wine.
“It’s not like that. It’s just his . . . life requires that I accept limitations. Limitations that he places upon himself just as much as he asks me to do the same. He’s sweet in his own way, protective and caring, and he encourages me to become all I can be. But what I did tonight is like . . .” I search my mind for something to make him understand. “Being protective is like his love language or something, and I just shit all over that. Imagine if you’d bought Janine a dozen red roses and instead of saying thank you and putting them in a vase, she just ignored them and forgot, let them rot on the counter without a care. It’s a piss-poor analogy, but pretty much spot-on.”
He flinches and runs his hands over his face, his eyes downcast. “Well, I won’t be bringing Janine roses any damn time soon anymore. That’s for fucking sure.”
His voice breaks at the end, and suddenly, I realize why my bro’s turned up out of the blue. All evening, we’ve been chatting, reminiscing about the good old days, and it hadn’t occurred to me that he’s been intentionally directing the conversation to the past so that he didn’t have to talk about the present.
I’d been so caught up in my own head, not sure how to explain everything going on in my own life, that I’d readily let him keep us in the carefree days of our youth.
But now I can see that was a mistake. Regardless of my relationship with Dominick, and TJ’s questions about how Dom can be overprotective, my brother’s in pain, and he has issues that we need to discuss. I’m okay, but he suddenly looks like he’s truly not.
“Spill the beans, TJ. What’s going on with Janine?”
He sits silently, his jaw opening from time to time as he tries to start, but each time, he closes it. I noticed the habit the last time we were together, something he picked up in his time in the military. Before then, he’d talk first, think later. Now my brother’s a lot more thoughtful.
“She’s been distant when I’d get to call home,” TJ finally says quietly, rubbing at his cheeks. “I thought the deployment was wearing on her. Shit, I understand. It was wearing on me too.”
He huffs a laugh full of pain, and I reach over to take his hand. He squeezes back, holding on for dear life.
“I wanted to surprise her, thought it’d be like one of the fucking viral videos with her running into my arms and hugging me tight when I came home early. Hell, I even put in for a transfer so I could stay stateside for a bit, be home for dinner and shit.”
I see the tear run down his cheek, but he swipes it away angrily. He’s quiet for a solid minute, lost in the video playing out in his head.
“What happened when you got home?” I ask, forcing him back to this moment.
“I took a buddy with me. He’d used his hazard pay to buy one of those really good camcorders. Like the dude could have filmed for Channel 7 with the fucking thing. I wanted it captured for eternity, you understand? I walked in the house, grinning like a fucking fool at the load of laundry waiting to be folded on the couch and the dishes in the sink. It felt real, ya know? Like she hadn’t spit-shined up for some big homecoming. I remember smelling vanilla cupcakes, best damn smell ever.”
He pauses, shaking his head miserably. “Janine doesn’t cook, not a lick. But she likes the house to smell like she’s been baking so she burns these candles all the time.”
I nod, and he disappears back into his story.
“So I’m walking down the hall, my buddy following me, recording. But when I opened the bedroom door, thinking she was going to be so happy to see me, she was . . . she was . . .”
He chokes, growling out in frustration.
“She was what, TJ?”
He takes a fortifying breath, spitting the words out like they burn his tongue. “She was getting railed by some guy. I caught her red-handed, Allie. Fucking some guy in our bed while I was on deployment.”
I wince, pain and shock rolling through me. I’ve met Janine a bunch of times and always liked her. She was a bit distant while TJ was on deployment, having her own circle of support, but she’d been nothing but good to him.
Until now.
“Oh, my God! I’m so sorry!” I whisper, squeezing his hand. “What’d you do? Please tell me you didn’t kill the guy, or if you did, let me call Dominick to see if he can hide the body.”
It’s just an attempt at humor, something he and I have done at inappropriate times since we were little kids, but TJ’s eyes flash dangerously, and I wince.
“Too soon?”
He coughs and shakes his head. “No, and no, I didn’t kill him. Dude saw me and bolted out of there like his ass was on fire, yelling he didn’t know she was married. Didn’t even put his clothes on, just scooped up his pants like a fumbled football. He’s not the one I was mad at anyway.”
His voice gets hard, bitterness seeping in at the edges, “She’s the one that stood up there in a white fucking dress, promising me forever, in front of everyone we knew and cared about. We talked about my deployments, had a plan so she wouldn’t be left alone. She just changed her mind? Or fell out of love? Or fucking got bored? I don’t know what the fuck she was thinking, but I know it’s over. I packed my shit and got the hell outta there.”
I nod in understanding. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say other than that sucks and I’m sorry. Anything you need, I’m here for you, brother. TJ—” I stop myself. “Fuck, I want to kick her ass for you!”
The corners of his mouth tilt up just a tiny bit, and he lets out a watery sigh that tells me the worst of the storm is past.
“No, don’t do that, even though it might be fun to watch, and the thought that you would means a lot.”
We hug, and when we lean, back I punch TJ lightly in the chest. “Don’t forget, I fought Susannah Brighton for you in the fourth grade when she stole your lunch money. I can sure lay a beatdown on Janine now if need be. You’d just have to hold my earrings because something tells me that bitch would fight dirtier than old Susannah.”
It’s a weak attempt at humor, but it seems to break him out of the dark pit he’s circling. I’m still shocked she’d be that cruel, and if I were anywhere near where she is, I’d be smacking that bitch up right properly.
“Seriously TJ, I’m sorry. You deserve better than that.”
His brave shrug is half-hearted, but his broken heart is painfully obvious on his face. “I know that, but there are nights I blame myself too. Lot of what-ifs, like what if I’d made her my number-one and not the uniform. I made my move to be here for her, but I guess it was too little, too late.”
I grab the shaggy sides of his hair, forcing him to look at me. “You listen and you listen good, Mister. This is her screw-up. She made those promises, and she’s the one who went back on her word. You did exactly what you said you’d do, and she didn’t. This is not on you. You’re one of the best people I know, and you deserve better than her.”
“Thanks, Allie-Gator.”
Slowly, our conversation starts up again, returning to the safe zone of banal chatter about his buddies overseas and all the things he’s seen and done. I think the distraction is good for him, at least for a bit, and we studiously avoid discussing Janine or Dominick for the rest of the night. As the clock hits midnight, he staggers up, weaving a little before walking toward my bathroom.
“I think I’m gonna need to crash on your couch tonight, Sis. That is, if your boytoy isn’t coming back for a midnight booty call?”
“It’s so not like that, assface.”
He smirks, planting a hand on the doorframe of my bathroom. “Too soon?”
That’s it. I grab a pillow and toss it at him, hitting him squarely in the nose, a trick I probably couldn’t repeat if I wanted to.
“Keep it up, GI Joe. You’re welcome to the couch, and if Dom does show back up, I’ll make sure to keep the moans and screams to an uncomfortable level. ‘Oh, Daddy, just like that!’ ”
TJ blinks before pretending to gag, reminding me of when we were kids and
I was asked out for my first date. He’d somehow just watched The Girl Next Door and told me Robbie Jenkins was going to shove his tongue in my mouth. I’d thought he was kidding, going on and on about how gross that was until he was rolling on the floor, laughing at my innocence.
“You’re welcome to my couch for as many nights as you want, TJ. You know that, right?”
His voice filters through the bathroom door, where I’m glad he’s at least learned to close it behind him. As a kid, I had to listen to too much. “It’s just tonight. I’ve got a room while I’m in town.”
“Fuck that!” I argue. “No, you’ll stay here. That’s what family is for.”
There’s silence from the bathroom until the toilet flushes and TJ comes out, wiping at his mouth like he always does after he’s used mouthwash.
“Allie, I’m doing good right now, especially considering our night. But it hits me sometimes, and I don’t want to have a breakdown in front of my sister again. I just need some space. But thanks for tonight.”
I understand but wish he would just stay here and let me take care of him a bit. Getting up, I nab him a blanket and pillow from the linen closet and help him set up the couch into a makeshift bed.
“Here you go . . . hope you don’t mind the pink fuzziness.”
TJ’s sleepy but still waves his hands in mock protest. “Allie, stop. I’ve slept sitting upright, on the ground in the freezing cold and the sweltering heat, and with a light shining in my eyes. A cushy couch with a pillow and a blanket is already a luxury I appreciate.”
I pat his arm, nodding. “Okay, holler if you need anything. We’ll do breakfast in the morning, ’kay?”
He grunts as he rolls onto his side, and I choose to take that as agreement. Before I even make it down the hallway, I can hear his even breathing. Guess he really can fall asleep anywhere, anytime.
Lucky him, because I don’t think I’ll sleep at all tonight.
Heading back to my bedroom, I pick up my phone. I want to call Dominick, needing to hear his voice, but I’m not sure if this is something we should do on the phone. I can’t imagine how terrified he must’ve been. He’s not a man with friends, family, and definitely not one with lovers he cares about. I suspect he’s let me in closer than anyone in a long time.
Dirty Secrets Page 14