by H M Thomas
Sex was a much safer discussion than love.
Gretchen scoffed. “Slept together,” she corrected. “And yes, she does.”
He ground his teeth at her use of the past tense.
“A woman always knows when someone else is enjoying what’s hers,” she continued, unperturbed.
Then how the hell did Gretchen not realize he and Ronnie were over? “If you say so.”
He signaled to the bartender for something stronger.
Gretchen chuckled beside him as she placed her empty glass on the bar. “I’m up.”
She walked away without a touch. He forced himself not to move as he watched her go.
He was finished with this game and needed to get her out of this mission.
~ ~ ~
“I don’t need you to follow me home,” Gretchen told Grant as he walked her out of the club and to her car. “I’m fine, really. Go home to your wife.”
Grant smiled indulgently before he shook his head. “I’ll follow you home and check your place, and then I’ll go home to my wife. Boss’s orders.” He raised his hand in mock salute.
She sighed and made her way to the small heap of junk she drove as Lilah. She kept her eyes trained on the rearview mirror. If someone had been at her place the night before, they wouldn’t need to follow her tonight. Still, she had to admit a small part of her was relieved Grant would be with her when she entered the tiny apartment.
She pulled into a spot at the curb. Through the window, she watched as Grant climbed out, and went to inspect the ground beneath the window, unaware she’d already had Jackson comb the area. When he was finished, she exited her own car.
“Find anything?”
Shaking his head, he came back to her and walked her to her apartment. She stood inside the doorway and let him search.
“I can stay the night, if you want,” he offered.
“Did Jay tell you to stay?” The familiar anger at Finn’s management of her life rose within her.
Grant shook his head. “But I will. Or you’re welcome at my house.”
She swallowed the sudden lump in her throat and pushed back the guilt she felt every time Carlisle and his people showed her kindness. “I’m fine.”
He searched her face through narrowed eye. “I think I’d feel better if—” His phone buzzed on his hip. “Shit.” He glared at the text on the screen, before he tapped out a reply and slid it back into its clip.
She studied him. “Everything okay?”
He grimaced. “Is it ever? Looks like I’m not headed home after all.”
He sighed, and she pitied him. Like Finn, he’d never have a steady schedule or guaranteed moments with his family, not if he continued to work for Raymond Carlisle.
“I’ll stay though, if you need me,” he assured her.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m a big girl. I can spend the night alone.”
Grant nodded and made his way to the door.
“I do appreciate it though.”
He stepped out into the night. Before he could walk away, she reached out and snagged his sleeve. He turned, waiting.
“What is it Jay does for Carlisle? He said you’ve seen him work.”
Grant nodded slowly and slipped his hands into his pockets. “He’s a problem solver.”
“And?” That didn’t tell her anything.
“If Carlisle has a problem,” Grant elaborated, “Jay makes it go away.” He met her gaze as his meaning took hold. “He’s a good man to have in your corner.”
“Because he can make my problems go away?”
He shook his head. “No, because he’s a good man.”
Tears sprung to her eyes at his words. She’d tried to tell Finn the same thing for years. Had anyone else? Would he believe them if they did? She met Grant’s gaze, nodding at the understanding passing between them. Maybe Finn wasn’t the only good man in a bad world.
~ ~ ~
Gretchen had to force her tired legs down the hall to her bedroom. She’d hoped a shower would help clear her mind of her confusion over her relationship with Finn and her growing hatred of Ronnie. Unfortunately, exhaustion still had her mind numb and foggy. Undercover work was always tricky, the constant acting paired with the stress of remembering each lie she told took its toll. This time, she had the added complication of being in love, something she’d never done personally or professionally. Her feelings for Finn affected every aspect of her life, and she needed to focus on her case and her safety.
She’d like to think whomever had been outside her window the night before had been a random peeper, but she wasn’t naïve. It hadn’t been a mistake and they’d likely return. She stepped into her bedroom. Her skin prickled, the tiny hairs along her arm and neck standing at attention. She wasn’t alone. Before she could react, two hands shoved her from behind and she tumbled face-first onto her bed. She cried out as she fell and put her arms out to brace her body, so she could quickly push herself up.
“Uh-uh.” A man’s voice chided.
He fisted her wet hair and wrenched her head back. Her spine arched, and she pushed to her knees to relieve the pain.
Another man stepped up to the bed, his face too close to hers. He smelled of cigarettes and stale beer. She tried to turn her head away, but the hand in her hair tightened, holding her in place.
“You sure this is Lilah?” he asked. “I thought she had black hair?”
“Fake,” the man behind her replied. “All those girls with their fake hair, fake eyes.” He reached around and squeezed her breast hard through her T-shirt. “Those aren’t fake though, are they?”
She swung her elbow back, catching him in the jaw. He stumbled and yanked her hair until the pain in her scalp made her cry out again.
“Shut up.” Cigarette breath slapped her hard across the face.
Pain splintered through her face and into her head. She pulled her head back around and spit blood on his shoe. The man rewarded her with another open palm to the cheek.
“Hey,” the man at her back growled. “Don’t fuck her mouth up before I can use it.”
The man behind her shoved her back to the mattress and came over her, bending to sniff at her neck. He jerked one arm behind her back, holding it as she struggled against his hold, before he pulled the other arm back and bound her wrists together. Her T-shirt rode up her back as his calloused hands scratched over the silk of her panties. He grabbed her hips and pulled her against him roughly. Bile rose in her throat when her ass met the hard length of him through his jeans. She clenched her jaw, terror suddenly clawing at her chest. She forgot all the training she’d received at the academy and all the maneuvers she’d practiced with Neil as fear took over. She managed to roll to her side and struck him with her knee, before he slapped her hard across the face, and flipped her back to her stomach, yanking her hips up.
“I bet you like it when Jay puts you on your knees.” The man beside the bed spoke gruffly in her ear as his hands groped her body.
She shivered with disgust. She could take a beating, but she couldn’t let them touch her like this. Behind her the second man lowered his zipper with one hand as he slipped a finger of the other under the waistband of her panties. She kicked out, desperate to do anything to keep them from getting inside her. Her heel connected with bone and she pulled back to kick again. The unmistakable feel of a blade at her throat stopped her.
“Don’t fucking move,” a voice rasped in her ear.
The man behind her dragged her off the bed. She knocked over the bedside table. A lamp crashed to the floor before she landed hard beside it on her bare knees and toppled over. Unable to brace herself, her head bounced off the concrete floor covered in a bare layer of carpet. Pain exploded like a gunshot in her head and for a moment, everything went white.
&nbs
p; He yanked her up to her knees as he stepped around her. “Maybe we should give her the message first,” the knife wielder suggested. “Make sure she understands how unimportant she is.”
She could see her second attacker now, the one who’d yanked her hair and squeezed her breast so painfully. The one who’d pressed his erection against her. She fought back the panic and studied his face. She recognized him. He’d been at the club earlier, watching her dance. He leaned down now, his acrid breath on her neck as he sniffed at her like a dog.
Straightening, he reached into his jacket and pulled out a photograph. Even in the dim light, she could make out an image of Finn. Before she could try to turn her head again, the man behind her squeezed her chin and pressed the blade against her until it bit into her skin.
“Open your eyes. Look,” he growled.
One shoved the picture into her face as the other jerked her head back. She opened her eyes and stared at the photograph of Finn and Ronnie. Ronnie bent over the side of a couch with Finn buried inside her. Gretchen closed her eyes against the image as tears formed. A hand slammed into her face again, and her head swung sideways, the blade slicing her neck. She cried out and opened her eyes, staring down her attacker.
“You fucking coward,” she screamed, though every word hurt to utter. “Go ahead and do whatever you’re going to do and leave me the hell alone.”
He sneered and pulled his phone from his pocket.
“I told your little dancer I plan to offer her a position in my new business,” Ronnie’s voice came through the line.
“She’s not mine,” Finn’s voice replied. “Why would you want her anyway?”
Ronnie laughed.
“I figure if that sweet spot between her thighs is enough to have you tied in knots, she could make me a lot of money.”
“You figure wrong.” Finn’s voice mocked. “There’s nothing special about her. She’s a little tart, a nice little treat every now and then. She’s not worth what your men pay.”
“You mean you’re not in love with her, Jay baby?” Ronnie pouted.
Finn laughed now.
“Hell no. Even if I did something as stupid as fall in love, it wouldn’t be with her. She’s nothing.”
The walls of Gretchen’s heart toppled, and she couldn’t hold back the flood of tears that came with their destruction. She clamped her mouth shut. She tried to control the silent sobs that wracked her body.
“Aww. You love him, don’t you?” The voice at her ear mocked, but Gretchen refused to answer. “We’ll make you forget all about him.”
The man in front of her dropped the picture to the ground and pulled the fly of his jeans open. Gretchen struggled against her constraints, desperate to work her hands free. Plastic bit into her wrists and fear bubbled in her chest. The man’s hand disappeared into his boxers and he pulled out his penis. Her chest heaved with tears and terror. He squeezed her jaw, digging his fingers in until she had to grind her teeth together to keep it from popping open. When she couldn’t hold out any longer and her jaw fell open, she screamed with everything inside her. All the fear and desperation, hatred and anger, pouring out of her in a primal roar that could’ve waken the dead.
There was a thud against her front door. “Chris.”
Her heartbeat accelerated, hope fighting for space in her chest. Neil?
She screamed again, over and over until she was sure her cries would bring the walls crumbling around her. She caught a boot to her ribs, knocking the wind out of her and sending her falling to the floor. The last thing she saw before the world went black was the picture of Finn buried inside Ronnie.
~ ~ ~
There wasn’t enough hot water in the world for Gretchen to wash away the feel of her attackers’ hands running over her body and pushing at her underwear. There sure as hell wasn’t enough in this shithole apartment.
“You know taking a shower is the number one thing you’re not supposed to do after an attack, right?” Neil asked from the other side of the shower curtain.
“That’s when you’ve been—” She couldn’t bring herself to say it. The men hadn’t managed to rape her, but they would have if Neil hadn’t heard her screams and came for her.
“You need to go to the hospital,” he implored. “Your injuries—”
“What I need is a minute to get my shit together,” she snapped through the tears that pushed at her.
Her partner’s heavy sigh reached her through the water sliding over her head. “I’m sorry. I’ll be in the kitchen.”
Holding her breath, she waited for the sound of the door to close behind him, before she slid to the shower floor and rested her forehead against her knees. She found no solace there. Behind her lids, the image of Finn inside of Ronnie branded there only brought with it the memory of him saying she was nothing.
She clamped her mouth shut, stopping the sob that threatened to escape. She couldn’t let Neil hear her, or she’d never convince him she could see this case through. He’d tell Carpenter she’d lost it and they’d sit her behind a desk. Besides, tears wouldn’t solve anything. The men were gone, and she’d get over what they’d done. Like she’d get over what Finn had said. She’d known before tonight he didn’t love her. Just because she’d fallen in love with him didn’t change the fact that he’d promised her only one night. Everything after that was a cover.
She pushed herself up, her body already aching. When she lifted her head, letting the water run over her neck, pink water slid down the drain. She pressed her hands against the shower wall and braced herself against the pain in her body and heart. She needed to steel herself for what came next. Neil and Carpenter would want her off the case, but she couldn’t back down. Not now. Ronnie had signed her own fucking death warrant, and Gretchen didn’t care who tried to get in her way.
Neil sat at her small, battered kitchen table when she came into the room.
“I called Carpenter.” He didn’t look at her as he spoke.
“I wish you hadn’t.” She coughed, clearing her ragged throat.
“Yeah, well, I wish a lot of things hadn’t happened.”
Closing her eyes, she tried to block out his guilt, she couldn’t carry that on her shoulders tonight too.
“I think you need to go to the hospital.” His fists clenched and unclenched.
He lifted his head and new tears flooded her eyes.
She hadn’t known eyes could hold so many conflicting emotions. “I’ve had worse.”
“No, you haven’t.”
True. She’d been hit, she’d even been grazed by a bullet, but she’d never been helpless.
“That was fucked up.” His voice broke. “It’s okay to not be okay.”
No. She was the only woman fighting for her place on a team of men. She didn’t get to fall apart, there were too many people waiting to pat her on the head and wrap her in cotton. Neil being one of them.
“I’m not stepping down.” She glared at him. “She sent those men to scare me. If I give up now, she wins.”
“Jesus Christ. It’s not a game.” His chair scraped across the floor as he shoved away from the table to stalk across the room. “What does she win? Jay Finley?”
“This isn’t about him.” And it wasn’t, not anymore. “She sent those men to rape me.” Tears spilled over her lids as sobs bubbled to the surface.
Neil stared back at her. His entire body taut as pulled wire. He worked his jaw, fighting to keep his own tears contained.
“What kind of woman does that to another woman? And how do I live with myself if I don’t stop her from doing it to someone else?”
“Damn it.” He kicked the chair, sending it skidding across her kitchen floor.
A small cry escaped as she flinched, causing him to curse again.
“If I hadn’t bee
n here,” he reminded her. “If I hadn’t heard you.”
She nodded and swiped ineffectually at her tears. He stomped to her and jerked her against his chest, squeezing her tight. Despite the pain in her body, she relaxed into him.
Tonight, she’d be vulnerable, and tomorrow she’d begin destroying Ronnie Sinclair.
Chapter 11
Finn pocketed his phone as he walked into the club. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d tried to call Gretchen since he’d left Ronnie’s hotel the night before, and still no answer. If he hadn’t talked to Grant who’d assured him he’d seen her safely inside her apartment, he would’ve been worried. Instead, he figured she was still angry with him.
He couldn’t blame her. He’d barely spent ten minutes with her since they left his cabin, and they’d been fighting or fucking for all of them. She had a right to be upset. Even if he’d explained to her about Ronnie, she still deserved better. He let out a heavy sigh. He couldn’t change what had happened over the past few days, so he’d make it up to her. After tomorrow, she’d have a couple days off. Maybe she’d agree to go back to his cabin where they wouldn’t have to pretend to be other people. For the first time in almost a decade, he’d rather spend a few quiet days at his cabin than in the bustle of Carlisle’s business, and he had Gretchen to thank.
He still didn’t see her as he scanned the club. Luckily, he didn’t see Ronnie either. With any luck, she had decided to head back to Miami. He shook his head. When it came to Ronnie, he had no such luck. The other woman had been fixated on Lilah the night before, wanting to know all about his relationship with her. She’d even asked him if he loved her. Of course, he’d said no, he wasn’t an idiot, but he hadn’t considered himself a liar either.
He needed a drink to erase the headache he had from trying to navigate whatever the hell he was doing with Gretchen. Amber looked up as he approached the bar, but she didn’t start preparing his drink like she usually did. Instead she watched him for a moment, before catching his glare and spinning around to reach for a glass with shaking hands.