by Sandra Owens
“We have nothing to talk about.” She backed against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. She’d been so stupid in allowing herself to be intimidated into letting him take her home. There was nothing in the foyer to use for a weapon, but after tonight, she was going to keep a baseball bat in the corner.
“Oh, but we do, cousin. I make the rules. The first one concerns your mother.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “You’re taking advantage of her. She deserves better than a life of working as a clerk, or whatever it is you call her.”
“Uncle Jose put you up to this, didn’t he?” The subject had come up at dinner, and her uncle had made it clear that he didn’t like his sister working like a dog, as he’d referred to it. Angelina had laughed, telling him that she enjoyed the time she spent at the bookstore. Madison wasn’t fooled when the subject had been dropped. Uncle Jose didn’t like Angelina’s newfound independence.
“Tell her you don’t need her anymore.”
“No. She likes it here. Uncle Jose can just deal with it. Good night.”
Instead of leaving, he advanced on her. “You need to learn some respect, cousin. Have you forgotten I own half of this place?”
She saw red. “Like hell you do! It was a loan from Uncle Jose, not you, and I’m paying it back with interest. Nowhere does it say you own any part of my shop.”
“Things will go a lot easier when you accept that I call the shots. You have a nice little business here that will prove useful in moving some money around. We don’t want Angelina involved in that, so tell her you don’t need her. As soon as that’s done, you and I will start working together.” He smirked. “Very closely together.”
“Go to hell.” Never would she allow her dream to be tainted by him or anyone else. She’d give it away to Lauren first.
He grabbed her arm, squeezing it so hard it brought tears to her eyes. “One phone call and I can have your business license pulled. Maybe you should try and convince me not to do that.”
Would he dare? Even if he would, and she wouldn’t put it past him, she would die before she’d let him touch her like that. When he leaned his face toward her, she turned her head to the side. “Get out now!”
He laughed. “I don’t think so. You’ve been teasing me since you were fifteen and grew a nice little pair of titties. I think it’s time to pay the price.”
Full-blown panic exploded, almost bringing her to her knees. She tried to break free of Ramon’s hold, but he was stronger and bigger than her. He spun her and then pressed against her back, smashing her chest into the wall.
“Go ahead and fight me, chica. Makes me hot.” He nuzzled her neck.
Use the back of your head to go for his nose. Alex’s instructions flashed through her mind. She leaned her forehead against the wall.
“Tell me you don’t want it, cousin, and I’ll call you a liar.”
“Go straight to hell, cousin.” As soon as he lifted his head, she reared back with as much force as she could muster. God, that hurt, but hearing the crunch of bone was worth the pain.
“Fucking bitch.”
He let go of her, and she scrambled up the steps. As she ran, she looked back to see her cousin holding his nose, blood pouring through his fingers. Inside her apartment, she slammed the door, turning the lock. She dropped her purse on the floor before racing to the kitchen, grabbling the largest knife out of a drawer. Dragging a chair back with her, she shoved the back of it under the doorknob.
She stood back, heart hammering as she stared at the door. As she listened for footsteps on the stairs, she spied her purse on the floor. She snatched it up, taking her phone out. There was only one person she wanted, and she called him.
Alex scowled at his laptop screen, frustrated that he’d come up blank again. No matter what keywords he tried, his mother’s trail had gone cold the moment she’d walked down that dusty road, never to be seen again. Not that he had much to go on other than her married name, and with that he’d found his parents’ marriage certificate with her maiden name on it. Neither of those names showed up anywhere since the day she’d left. Wherever she’d disappeared to, she’d done a damn good job of losing herself.
Giving up for the time being, he turned to searching for information on Madison’s father. Since there weren’t any witnesses to the hit-and-run, there wasn’t much to go on. He scrolled down to the interview a detective had conducted with the newspaper’s editor. According to his editor, that night Parker had worked late on a story that he’d sworn would be front-page news. Unlike other stories that he’d shared with his editor before publication, he’d been secretive about this one. That jived with what Madison had said.
“Interesting,” Alex murmured as he read that the editor had claimed Parker didn’t seem as excited as he would have expected a reporter who was about to break a big story to be.
What would make an investigative reporter both secretive and perhaps not particularly happy about the story he was writing? Only one thing came to mind, and he called Nate. After telling his brother what he’d learned so far, he asked Nate for his take.
“Sounds like the story was personal.”
“Yeah, my thinking, too. What if he was on to the Alonzos? That would definitely be personal, and because of worrying about his wife’s reaction, he might not have been all that happy about the story. It would have been a good reason to be so tight-lipped. Think we could get Rothmire to okay Taylor or Rand doing a follow-up interview with that editor?”
“I’ll call Rothmire in the morning. You feeling any better?”
“Yeah, a bowl of chicken soup from the deli and a couple of cold capsules helped.” He was fighting a head cold, and Nate had kicked him out of Aces & Eights when Alex had sneezed on his big brother one too many times.
After hanging up, he leaned forward and punched up his pillows. He took a drink of the hot tea with lemon, honey, and whiskey he’d made. The soothing liquid eased down his sore throat. Leaning back again, he pulled up some of Parker’s previous work. The man had been good, and his stories were hard-hitting, many of them exposing crooked public officials.
He was halfway through a story on a councilman who’d taken bribes to push through building permits for a developer with a history of cutting corners, when his phone buzzed. Thinking it was Nate calling back, he scrolled his thumb across the screen without looking at it.
“What?” he said.
“Alex?”
At hearing Madison’s voice, he shoved his laptop aside. “Yeah. Hi, Grasshopper.” For the past two weeks, he’d checked his voice mail constantly, hoping for a message from her. Every time his phone had buzzed, his heart had raced, thinking it might be her. But she’d not called, texted, or left a message, and he’d forced himself to stay away since it was what she wanted. Next to watching his mother walk down that dirt road without a backward glance, it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. For two weeks, there had been an ache in his chest from missing her.
“I need you,” she said, her voice quivering.
“Where are you?” He shot out of bed, his phone to his ear.
“Home. Come in through the front.”
“Madison . . .” The call disconnected. It took only minutes to change from sweatpants to jeans and a T-shirt. He slipped on his shoulder holster and a lightweight jacket. After taking a couple of cold pills and drinking a hot toddy, he decided he’d best take his car even though he could get to her faster on his bike. Keys in hand, he headed to the elevator. As he waited for the door to open, he called Nate and gave him an update so his brothers would know where he was.
Ten minutes later—and thankful he hadn’t been stopped for speeding—he pulled up in front of the entry to Madison’s apartment. Why was the door wide open? Any other time, he would have waited for backup, or at least called Nate or Court, but Madison was in there. He eased up to the entry and, seeing blood on the floor, he palmed his gun. Careful not to walk in the blood, he quietly made his way up the stairs. At the top, he tried to turn
the doorknob, but it was locked.
Although he wanted to slam his shoulder against the door, he had no way of knowing who would be on the other side to greet him. She’d said to come to the front, but what if someone had forced her to say that? A sneak attack suited him better, and he backtracked down the stairs, careful not to make any noise.
Fear for her kicked up his adrenalin, but he stepped outside and took a few deep breaths, calling on his training to get him to the place he needed to be. Until she was safe in his arms, all she could be to him was a job, one he had to do by the book. Although if he were going by the book, he’d wait for that backup he should have asked for, but fuck that.
When he reached her bedroom window, he tried lifting it, only to find it locked, which was as it should be. Her bedroom was dark, and from her panicked phone call and the blood in the foyer, he seriously doubted she was snuggled up in bed, asleep. Taking a chance, he took off his jacket and wrapped it around his fist, breaking through a corner of the window. He unlocked it, then slipped his jacket back on.
No one greeted him when he eased into Madison’s room, and because it was dark, he made his way to her bedroom door using his memory of the layout. Thankfully, she was a neat person—something he’d noticed on his numerous visits—and he didn’t stumble over anything tossed onto the floor.
“Jesus,” he muttered when her cat let out a hiss. Alex looked down to see Hemingway crouched next to him in the doorway, the black devil’s hair razor sharp on the ridge of his back. He reached down and placed a hand on the cat’s head. “What’s happening here, buddy?” he whispered. The cat hissed again.
He’d never been anywhere in her apartment besides her bedroom, and he wished now he’d asked her for a tour. Across from him was an open door that he guessed was another bedroom, her roommate’s maybe? A dimly lit lamp sat on a table next to the bed, and he slipped into the room, making a thorough check. Once satisfied it was empty, he eased down the hallway.
Coming to the end, he paused, lifted his gun, and edged into the living room, keeping his back to the wall. Huddled in a corner with a large knife clutched in her hands, Madison caught his movement, and the moment she recognized him, she dropped the knife and lunged for him.
He held out his arms, keeping his gun pointed away from her. “Talk to me,” he said, wrapping his arms around her as he watched for signs of anyone else in her apartment. “What happened?”
“Ramon,” she answered, a shudder traveling through her that he could physically feel.
He pushed Madison behind him, his gaze pausing on the chair notched under the doorknob. “Where is he?”
“I don’t know. He was downstairs. Did he leave?”
“I think so.” He pulled her into his embrace. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.” And she wasn’t leaving his sight. He led her to the living room sofa. “Tell me everything.”
As he listened to what Ramon had tried to do, he considered the man lucky that he wasn’t nearby. Alex tamped down his rage, not wanting to scare her. She’d had enough trauma for one night without seeing him go ballistic.
She looked up at him, her green eyes shining with warmth. “I got away because you taught me how to fight back.”
“You did good, Mad. I’m proud of you.” Thankfully, she’d called him instead of the police. He assumed she hadn’t called 9-1-1 because Ramon was family. Unless she had been willing to file assault charges against him, there wasn’t much the cops could do, and he doubted she would if for no other reason than not wanting to upset her mother.
He wrapped his hand around hers. “Go pack a bag.”
“Why?”
“Because you can’t stay here alone. You’re coming home with me.”
She pulled her hand away. “I can’t. There’s blood in the foyer I have to clean up, and I have to be here when Lauren comes home. She can’t be here by herself if Ramon decides to come back.”
He turned his face away and coughed. The relief the drink and cold pills had given him were wearing off. “You’re not staying here . . .” His throat dried up, and he coughed again. “Be right back.” In the kitchen, he opened cabinets until he found a glass, filling it with water.
“Are you okay?” she asked when he returned.
“Just a little cold.” He sneezed. “Sorry.”
“No, don’t be. I didn’t know you were sick when I called you.” She put her palm on his forehead. “You’re warm.”
“You have any idea when Lauren will be back?”
She shrugged. “No. She’s in Coconut Grove having dinner with one of her sorority sisters. Tomorrow’s a work day, so she probably won’t be super late.”
“Go pack a bag. We’ll call her on the way to my place, work something out.” Surprised when she didn’t argue, he went searching for a mop and bucket. The sooner he got home, the sooner he could die in his own bed.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“That was Lauren. She wants you to call off the dog. Her words not mine.” Madison dropped her phone onto the bed as she sat on the edge of the mattress. “She said your brother’s an arrogant asshat. Again, her words.”
Alex’s laugh turned into a coughing fit. “Well I know it.” He put his arm over his eyes.
“Which brother is it?” Alex had made a phone call after they’d talked to Lauren, arranging for one of his brothers to go to her and Lauren’s place.
“Court. The middle one.”
She reached over and put her fingers on his cheek. “You’re still warm. Can I get you anything?”
“Yeah. A new head.”
“Sorry. Can’t help you with that.” Claiming he was hot, he’d changed into a pair of cargo shorts, and nothing else. Since he had his eyes covered, she seized the opportunity to admire his chest. As dark and thick as his hair was, she’d expected him to have more chest hair, but he had only a dusting of fine black hair above his nipples, then a dark arrow down the middle of his stomach. Her fingers itched to follow that trail to the hidden treasure. She blinked when the material of his shorts moved and watched, fascinated, as the shorts tented.
“You keep looking at me like that, Madison, and cold or no cold, you’re going to find yourself naked and under me.”
Cheeks heating, she glanced up to see him watching her from under his arm. “Ahem . . .”
He chuckled. “Yeah, ahem. You have no idea how badly I want to kiss you, but no germs for you, Grasshopper. Why don’t you go to bed before I forget I’m sick.”
She picked up her phone as she stood. “Are you going to call your brother? Lauren was serious.”
“No. Ramon probably won’t come back, but better safe than sorry. He’ll crash on your sofa.”
“Call and tell him he can have my bed for the night.” She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Sweet dreams.”
He grabbed her hand, turned it over, and kissed her wrist. “If they’re of you, they’ll definitely be sweet. Now, go wash your hands and get all my germs off.”
She paused at the door. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“For coming when I called, especially after how I treated you.”
His eyes locked on hers. “You knew I would.”
Yeah, she hadn’t doubted it for one minute. She smiled. “Good night, Alex.”
“Night, Mad.” He pulled his pillow over his head. “I’ll feel better tomorrow, and then I’ll let you play with my chest.”
“Promises. Promises.” She closed the door, making a detour to the kitchen for a glass of water before she took herself to bed. Should she have told Alex everything? All she’d said was that Ramon had attacked her. She’d kept to herself his demand that she allow him and his uncle use of the bookstore to funnel money through.
Although she wanted to tell him, she still didn’t know exactly what his relationship was with Ramon. Sleep was elusive. She tossed and turned, her heart arguing with her mind. Her heart said she could trust Alex. Her mind questioned her sanity for believing that.
The smell of coff
ee drifted through the open door of Alex’s guest room, the aroma dragging her from sleep. She’d finally drifted off sometime around dawn after deciding that she’d listen to her heart until Alex proved her wrong. Stupid maybe, but he’d sworn he didn’t do drugs or sell them. She chose to believe him. Even so, she wasn’t sure enough to tell him about the money laundering. Which, if she was honest with herself, put her right back to stupid.
She rolled onto her side, sighing in dreamy pleasure as she pulled the comforter up to her chin. The guest bed was better than hers at home—the mattress perfect, the sheets cool and silky, and the down comforter one she could snuggle in forever. Five more minutes and she’d get up.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead.”
Madison groaned. “Go away.” The covers were pulled off, and she opened her eyes to see Alex standing over her, a smirk on his face.
“Not a morning person, are we?”
“Hate mornings, but especially hate cheerful morning people.” She stretched her arms over her head.
“Then I guess we better break up, Grasshopper. Too bad about that since it means you won’t get to play with my chest after all.”
Break up? Did that mean he considered them back together? “Alex?”
“Mmm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what? Being happy when you called me? I wasn’t pleased about the reason you did, but what’s important is that you’re here where I can keep you safe.”
She wanted to ask if they were back together, but she chickened out. What if he said no, he was only playing the hero by coming to her rescue. Besides, he wore only a pair of worn jeans that hung low on his hips. It was hard to think straight with his chest right there in front of her face. All she wanted to do was follow that trail of hair with her tongue, not stopping until she claimed the prize.
“How do you like your coffee?”
She jerked her gaze up to his face, only to see amusement in his eyes. The man knew exactly where her mind had been. “Poured down my throat. I’ll be there in a minute.”