by April Hunt
He led the way to his truck, the task more difficult due to the glare she threw over her shoulder to a watching Cade.
When he opened the passenger side of his pickup, her scowl deepened. “What about my car? Or will this custody arrangement just be a different form of house arrest?”
“This custody arrangement can be as stifling or as freeing as you make it, angel. What’s it going to be?” At her continued silence, he easily hoisted her into the passenger seat and buckled her belt. “Stifling wins. Hope what you said is true and that you like my place.”
She looked at him, surprised. “You’re taking me to the boat?”
“Did you want to go somewhere else?”
She shrugged, her indignation a bit depleted. “No. I like your place—at least until I fell into the water.”
Less than five minutes into the commute from Alexandria to DC, Zoey’s yawns turned into a soft purring snore. Her complaint about no sleep wasn’t an exaggeration, because she didn’t wake when he pulled into his spot at the marina, or when he carried her to his bed.
A warmth had settled in his chest when she admitted she liked his boat. He liked the fact that she was here, in his bed. There wasn’t anywhere else he wanted her to be.
Timbuktu? Fuck no.
Some rat-infested hole in the wall, guarded by two ego-inflated retired cops with guns? Not on his watch.
Everyone back at Gretchen’s could debate and vote all they wanted, but Knox wouldn’t accept any location that didn’t involve his presence. That assertion alone brought on at least a half dozen problems…
Pissing off his best friend didn’t even come close to the top of the list.
Voices dragged Zoey’s eyes open. She blinked, focusing on the sliver of sunlight escaping from the bottom of the blackout curtains as memories of Knox bringing her to the marina slowly came back to her.
She’d only woken up one time that she remembered. Surrounded by the warmth of Knox’s arms, she’d tucked herself deeper into his embrace and promptly felt right back to sleep. Until now.
She headed to the bathroom, hearing the voices that had woken her up. Her brother’s baritone was difficult to miss, and so she detoured upstairs.
Cade glanced her way as she stepped on deck, and immediately guided her into a sheepish hug. “Hey, little bit. You doing okay?”
“As well as to be expected. Unless you’re here to whisk me away to some undisclosed location. In which case, I’ll be fine once I toss you overboard.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my feet are staying firmly on the ground, er, the boat.”
Knox, sporting old sweats and a holey DC United T-shirt, grinned at her from over the rim of his coffee mug. The secret moment sent a series of flutters to her stomach.
“Cade came with good-ish news,” Knox interjected into her thoughts. “Your necklace being at the crime scene may have been a coincidence after all.”
“Really?” She turned to her brother.
“Maybe.” Cade leaned his rear end against the side rail. “Ginny cozied around with a guy named Rick Stuart. Turns out he’s the lead suspect in a burglary ring that’s been hitting condos in—surprise, surprise—your neck of the woods.”
“He broke into my apartment and stole the necklace, and what? Gave it to Ginny?”
“That’s my theory. Right now, Stuart’s in the wind. It’s the reason I dropped by the boat.” Cade glanced to Knox. “Figured you’d want in on a little domestic action.”
“Sure thing. Give me thirty and I’ll meet you back at the station. Just got to get dressed and drop off some special cargo over at Iron Bars.”
Zoey caught their silent exchange and she folded her arms, annoyed. “Let me guess…I’m the special cargo? So what you’re saying is that you’re handing me over to your brothers to babysit?”
“Good call.”
Laughing, Cade punched Knox in the arm. “Good luck getting her there with all your appendages intact. Give me a shout when you get to the precinct.”
Knox nodded, but kept his eyes on Zoey as Cade left.
Zoey continued glaring. “Guess I should be thankful that whole what I want lasted for a few hours, huh? I mean, I wasn’t conscious for it, but still…I consider myself fortunate.”
Knox eased her into his arms, and palming her cheek, brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. The intimate gesture nearly melted all her annoyance. Almost, but not quite. “You think you’re going to seduce me into complacency?”
Knox’s full mouth twitched with a threatening grin. “Will that work?”
“No. Maybe. But it would only be temporary.”
“All we need to do is get Stuart to implicate himself in the burglaries and admit to giving Ginny the goods. Once we can verify his part in all this, you’re a free woman.”
Zoey wasn’t stupid. She may not like that he was right, but he was. “Can I at least shower before you drop me off at the sitters’?”
“I’ll even grab you a change of clothes.”
After she showered and changed into another set of Knox’s gym clothes, they headed back across the river. The second Knox came to a complete stop in front of Iron Bars, she headed upstairs.
He caught up to her at the door, holding it open. “Zo—”
She lifted her hand to silence him, and only allowed herself a small glimpse of the concern in his eyes. “I understand why we’re doing this. Just let me have my pouty moment. I’m tired. I’m grumpy. And I can’t stay mad if you’re going to be all reasonable, okay?”
“Shutting down my reasoning.”
“Good.”
Knox navigated them downstairs and this time, the security pad outside the iron door worked. He scanned his eye and typed in a series of numbers. Finally, the door clicked open with a heavy thunk. Liam and Roman, sitting behind two computers, glanced up as they entered.
“So which cell is mine?” Zoey couldn’t help herself. “I’d really like a corner to optimize privacy—anything with natural light will do.”
Knox and his brothers exchanged silent looks. “She’s not exactly happy about this.”
Zoey snorted. “But she still has the ability to speak for herself, and no, I’m not happy about missing an entire day of work because of a freak occurrence.”
Liam cleared his throat. “Well, I, for one, am glad you’re here, because when Roman gets in one of his moods, it’s like I’m speaking to myself. Which I usually am because he goes all mute and broody and shit.”
“Maybe you talk too much,” Roman muttered.
“Talk. Don’t talk,” Knox grumbled. “I don’t care what you do as long as it involves keeping an eye on Zoey. Don’t let her out of your sight.”
“What do you want us to do? Put a leash on her?”
The two brothers glared at each other before Knox relented, gently pulling her aside. “When I get back, we’re having a talk.”
“Goody. Can’t wait.”
Dark eyes narrowing on her, he trapped her chin between his fingers and tugged her gaze upward. “I know you don’t like this, but it’s for the best. For now.”
“I know. I’m just…I know,” she repeated her sentiments from upstairs. “You and Cade better look for this Stuart really hard. I don’t care if you have to flip over rocks in every park from Northeast to Southwest. Got me?”
“Got you, angel.” He looked torn, his gaze dropping to her mouth.
She waited with bated breath to see what he’d do. Kiss her? Not? Part of her wished he’d lay one on her that brought her leg up in that rom-com toe-pop she always saw in movies. In the end, she swallowed her disappointment when he left without another word.
She had no right to be disappointed and yet it was there, festering in her chest like a bad case of pneumonia. She turned toward Liam and Roman, who’d been watching the entire exchange. “Do you have a little bell that you need me to wear? Oh, wait. That’s probably not advanced enough for you guys. Want to insert a GPS chip under my skin?”
Li
am fidgeted in his seat. “I’d settle for a compromise. You leave my balls intact and I’ll make a coffeehouse run and get you that chocolate chip crème thing you love.”
Zoey’s anger leaked out of her body. This entire situation sucked, but it was no one’s fault—except the Cupid Killer’s. “You got a deal.”
Unless this babysitting gig lasted more than a day.
Then it was every woman for herself.
Chapter
Eighteen
Knox eyed the line of townhomes, one more run-down than the next. Colorful graffiti sprawled across the brick walls and front sidewalks. Most windows that hadn’t already been boarded sported yellow police tape. And then there was the health code warning stuck to the front of Rick Stuart’s door.
“Stuart’s obviously not hitting the right places if he can’t improve his living situation any.” Knox followed Cade out of his car and onto the sidewalk.
Cade looked at the address on his phone. “Never claimed the guy was smart, just greedy. This is it. A neighbor confirmed she saw him slink inside less than an hour ago. How do you want to do this? Split the bill?”
Using their old Ranger terminology brought back fond memories. To curb insurgents piggybacking onto their frequencies and using their lingo to stay one step ahead, his operating base had created a new dictionary of often raunchy military slang.
Some of that slang obviously stayed with Cade even in civilian life.
“I’d be more than happy to take the back exit so you can pound on the door and do your DC Police bellow,” Knox offered. “I’m magnanimous that way.”
“You’re not magnanimous. You’re hoping that he makes a run for it and runs smack into your ugly mug.”
He grinned. That very scenario happened all the time when they’d cleared villages out in Kandahar. “You know me well.”
“I do. Which is how I know that bodyguard thing isn’t going to pan out. I give you two months. Tops. And only because quitting is the ultimate sin in your eyes.”
“Two whole months, huh?”
“Yep. Then you’ll be back begging for a job at Steele Ops, and I’m going to tell you to pound sand.”
“You?” Knox caught his friend’s slip. “As if you’re going to be in charge of hiring or something? You’d have to be a member of the unit to do that, my friend.”
Cade shook his head and chuckled. “I’m thinking about it.”
Knox sealed his lips, not wanting to push. If Cade admitted to thinking about it, he wasn’t about to give him a reason to say no.
They split, Knox heading around the back. A one-lane alleyway abutted the rear end of each house, shared from the row on the next block. Stuart’s yard wasn’t much more than a six-by-six patch of browned grass, fenced in with a mesh wire that had seen better days.
Cade texted.
Reaching the door now. Look alive.
Knox hopped the back gate and looked around, keeping his eyes open as he took position at the base of the steps.
“DCPD! Open up!” Cade’s voice echoed around the building.
Frantic footsteps pounded within the house seconds before Stuart burst through the back door. He barreled down the stairs, jeans half undone, and screeched to a halt the second he spotted Knox.
Stuart sprinted left, vaulting over the chain-link fence like a damn ninja. And with a panicked glance over his shoulder, he scrambled away like an alley rat.
Knox took off after him. “He’s on the move! Heading east!”
Adrenaline burst through Knox’s veins as he pumped his arms and legs. Stuart was faster than he looked, booking it down a private alley. He passed a metal garbage can and flung it behind him. Knox dodged around it with inches to spare before it collided with his head.
In the distance, music and laughter broke through the sounds of city traffic. He knew that was where Stuart was heading before he even veered right, and he didn’t disappoint, hurdling over another mesh fence and into a private yard.
“Knox!” Cade shouted from two yards away.
“Go east! Go east!” Knox sailed over the fence and landed smack in the thick of a family party.
Heads swiveled his way, two of which belonged to a pair of ten-year-olds who looked about to piss their pants. A grandma type came flying at him with a piñata stick. “Get out of here before I crack you open! Did you hear me? Get the hell out of my backyard!”
“Sorry, ma’am. I didn’t mean to—” He dodged a swing to his head and slowly backed away. “I’m leaving. I’m leaving.”
“He went that way.” A young twenty-something kid nodded over yet another damn fence.
“I don’t get paid enough for this shit,” Knox muttered dryly. He wasn’t getting paid for this at all.
He hurdled over a second fence and into another back alley. This one, as narrow as the one before, looked empty. He scanned left and right, listening for movement. The quick bastard could’ve gone in either direction, hiding behind the stack of empty boxes tossed out by the pharmacy or ducked into any of the back exits.
He shot off a one-handed text to Cade with his location, and picked left. Fifteen yards from the main street, the distinct smell of urine and rotting garbage filled his nose. Muffled conversations spilled out from the broken window on his right, but there wasn’t any sign of Stuart.
Knox stepped lightly, listening for anything that didn’t belong. It finally came in the form of metal scraping against asphalt. Knox spun around seconds before white-hot pain ripped through his shoulder.
He’d heard enough gunfire in his lifetime to recognize the difference between a rifle shot and a car backfiring. And if he hadn’t, the blood running down his left arm clued him in real damn quick.
Zoey glanced at the clock on the wall to verify what she already knew.
Wizards and Warlocks was the game that never ended.
As she pushed away from the table, Liam lifted his eyes from the board for the first time in what felt like hours. “Where you going?”
“I’m calling it, Liam. You’ve conquered the world, slayed all my dragons, and defeated me in that Magic Cup Olympics thing. You win.”
“No, no, no. You can’t withdraw,” Liam protested. “That’s like winning by default, and I do not win by default.”
“Then fast-forward a few thousand hours and claim your victory, because I cannot sit in this chair a second longer. I’m developing a bed sore on my rear end. And no”—she cut him off as he opened his mouth—“you can’t see it.”
“You don’t know how to have fun.”
“Maybe not, but I’m pretty sure it’s not by playing this.” She laughed when he stuck out his tongue at her and packed up the game pieces. “So, where can I venture to and where can I not?”
Liam glanced up and nodded his chin. “Go anywhere you want…but know that wherever it is, you’re not going to have even half as much fun.”
Zoey snort-laughed. “Let’s hope so.”
Using eeny, meeny, miny, moe, she chose the corridor off to the left of the rotunda and just walked. She passed bedrooms still too empty to even be called spartan, and something that looked like the situation room you always saw on television shows.
She was about to turn around and investigate another hall when she heard a thunk. Six in a row, followed by a short pause, and then it started again. With nothing better to do, she followed the noise until she found it—and Roman—in a gym the size of a basketball court.
He stood with his back toward her and a table full of shiny knives on his left. Taking a deep breath, he picked three up, flipped one in his palm, and hurled them in quick succession toward the life-sized dummy fifteen yards away.
Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
“Remind me to never piss you off,” Zoey said, announcing her presence.
Roman didn’t so much as flinch and tossed another three knives, even quicker than the last set. Of course he would’ve known she was there. “Who won the game?”
“I withdrew.”
Roman shot
her a knowing glance. “Did Liam start whining about winning by default?”
“Yep. But I couldn’t sit there for another minute. How long have you trained to be able to do that?” She gestured to where a half dozen knives stuck out of the training dummy.
“Truthfully? I lost count. You find a hell of a lot of time when your ass is confined to a bed for months.” He wore exercise clothes, his prosthetic on display as he stalked toward the dummy.
Zoey noticed a slight limp, something that showed when he pushed himself too hard. Roman wasn’t the type to take it easy, not before the IED explosion and not after.
“I guess you’re eager to get Steele Ops up and running, huh?” Zoey stated off-handedly.
“It’ll be good to feel useful again.” He slid her a side eye. “But you were trying to lead into something else, weren’t you, sweetheart?”
“No,” Zoey lied. “Okay, maybe. I’d have to be, well, a man, if I didn’t sense a little…discord between you and Knox.”
“Discord?” He snorted. “That’s one way to put it. But you don’t have to worry about me and him. We’re big boys.”
“Meaning what? You’ve kissed and made up?”
His lip twitched. “Something like that.”
“You were the reason for the sore jaw, weren’t you?”
Roman lined his knives back on the table. “It was sore? Good. Bastard deserved it. But you can wipe that frown off your face, sweet pea. He and I agree to disagree. Until he does something else that’s stupid, the two of us are good.”
Liam barged into the room, no whining or joking smile in sight. “Knox was shot.”
Zoey took a moment to mentally connect those three little words.
Next to her, Roman didn’t need time. “What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Cade called. They were out trying to wrangle that Stuart guy and Knox was shot in the process.”
“Stuart shot him?” Her panic raised the pitch of her voice. The two brothers quickly hustled down the corridor, Zoey hot on their heels.
“That’s what they think. Cade has him in custody now, but Knox was taken to Georgetown. Mom and everyone are meeting us at the hospital.”