Night Break

by Carey Decevito

  Then a miracle happened…

  “What is it, baby?” My mother’s hand squeezed my shoulder. “Are you feeling okay? Should we go back—”

  “Mom!” A nervous laugh escaped me. “I’m fine. This is just a lot to take in, is all.”

  Drawing a deep breath, a relieved look overtook her worried expression. “You’re sure?”

  I turned toward my mother, squeezing her hand then met her gaze. “This is just a new step for me. A big one.” The older woman’s expression softened. “Besides, you knew you were going to have to cut the apron strings at some point, Mama.” Holding out my keychain, I jingled the keys to prove my point, but more or less to lighten the mood.

  “You look flushed, maybe I should call Janet and tell her—”

  “Mom, I’m fine!” I growled, then marched up the building’s steps and punched in the code to the main door, heading straight for the elevator. I was so tired of being treated like an invalid. It was why I’d insisted on my own place if I were ever to be discharged from the hospital. When I got word from the doctor that I was being released, I’d had my mother check out a few places for me before settling on this one.

  The older woman was hot on my heels. “Don’t take that tone with me, young lady!”

  Snickering as she entered the lift, I said, “‘Young lady’, Mom?” My finger hit the button that would take us to the twelfth floor. “I’m twenty-five.” Kissing her cheek, I offered her a smile of reassurance, just as the doors delivered us to our destination. Finding apartment 1203, I turned to my mother again, sure that my excitement was written clearly across my face. “Now, can I please take a look around and see what you’ve done to this place?”

  I took the time to peruse what my mother had done with my new apartment. The woman had gone completely OCD on my new digs, but it had been that way since I was eight. Everything had to be clean. Sterile. But there was a mountain of reasons as to the why, and because my mother had been my rock throughout my life, I’d forgive her anything.

  With my apartment unpacked for me, I headed toward the one room that beckoned my attention. The one room that had been left untouched at my request. Mostly.

  Adrenalin pumped through my veins, my excited smile becoming larger. When the knob turned, granting me access to my home office, I couldn’t suppress my gasp.

  “Oh, Mom!” I whispered as I surveyed the room.

  Floor-to-ceiling windows had their curtains pushed to the side; a massive U-shaped desk was up against them, the bottom of the U up against the wall where I envisioned positioning my three large monitors. A TV was mounted to the wall above that. Space for my two laptops, which were still with Brycen, was set up by the windows, where I’d be able to take in the view of the city skyline at night. Against the wall, by the room’s entrance, was a five-drawer filing cabinet that matched my desk. A massive vase of fresh sunflowers sat atop it, with what remained of Dalton’s unspent lilies and roses. The reminder of the man himself made my pulse quicken. Beside the flowers sat a photograph of my mother and me, taken the week before, in the hospital gardens. It was the day I’d received the good news that the stem cell treatment for my anemia was finally working and that I’d most likely be able to go home soon.

  The rest of my office space contained my favorite couch and throw pillows, which matched the abstract paintings that covered the other two walls that would have been otherwise bare.

  As soon as I sensed my mother’s presence, I turned toward her, utterly speechless.

  “Do you like it?”

  My voice shook as I said, “This is too much.”

  Mom cleared her throat, an indication that she was feeling as emotional as I was. “It’s never too much, baby girl. You deserve to know how proud I am of the difference you make in the world.”

  I groaned, cupping my forehead, feeling overwhelmed. “Mom, I’m just some computer geek.”

  “You’re more than that, and you know it.” She sighed. “I may not understand this draw you have to this technology thing, but you have a gift, baby. You’re smart, you’re creative—”

  “I’m a sickly recluse that thrives on puzzles,” I mumbled.

  “Devolin Payton Taylor!”

  “What?” I shrugged. “It’s true.”

  “You’re beautiful, baby girl, and someone’s going to see that someday.” I didn’t bother to say anything, knowing all too well that I’d be inciting a never-ending dispute with the woman. God forbid she found out anything about Dalton and his visits. The flowers had caused more than enough of a ruckus. “Just promise me something.”

  Cue the internal groan. “And what’s that?”

  “Promise me that now that you’re on your own, you won’t stay cooped up in this new office of yours. Promise me that you’ll find some semblance of normalcy. Go out, make some new friends—”

  “I have friends!” That defensive tone did nothing to convince even myself, to say nothing of convincing my mother.

  “I’m talking about real people, with real faces, in a social setting where you’re in the same room. Not those cartoon characters on your screen.”

  I didn’t blame her for saying something like that. Still, it burned because ultimately she was right.

  “They’re called avatars, Mom.”

  My mother’s determined gaze caught mine and held it. “Promise me, Devolin.”

  Giving her a nod, I added, “I’ll try.”

  She snorted. “I suppose I’ll take that. Meanwhile, I’ll leave you to it.” She proceeded to the hallway, toward the apartment’s door, with me following behind her. “I didn’t want to mess with all those wires of yours and screw up your system, and since you didn’t want anyone tinkering with your stuff, I let it be.”

  “Mom.” I grabbed the older woman’s hand. “I love it. And you.”

  “I know you’ll ignore me if I tell you to take it easy and that your cyber world can wait until tomorrow, but please don’t work too much tonight. Get some rest. And call me tomorrow to let me know that you’re okay.”

  Ever the worrisome mother.

  “I will, Mom. Go have yourself the weekend with the girls you’ve been planning.” For more than a year was left unsaid as I hugged her. “Love you.”

  “Love you, baby girl. You’ll call if—”

  “Promise, Mama.”

  Just like that, I was alone. In my own apartment, no less!

  Chapter 13

  Dalton

  Four days.

  In those days, I called, I texted, yet Devolin never returned any of my messages. This show of stubbornness of hers pissed me off.

  If she wanted her fucking laptops back, she’d have at least given me a sign of life, dammit!

  After four days, I took matters into my own hands.

  Sitting on the front stoop of the building Skylar had given me the address to, I spied a car pull up to park at the curb, then two women exited as soon as the engine was turned off. Their playful banter and giggling halted the moment Devolin’s gaze landed on me.

  Hurrying to my feet, I took the ten or so steps that would take me to her.

  “Dalton…” She turned to peer at the older woman, who had joined her at her side. That’s when I noticed the resemblance. This had to be her mother.

  “Devolin, who’s this?” the older woman asked, her eyes directed at me in blatant appraisal.

  “Mama, it’s—”

  I had her right where I wanted her. Flustered.

  “My name is Dalton Kippers, ma’am.” I stepped up and stuck out my hand. “I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”

  “Joleen or Jo Taylor.” She gave me a dazzling smile. “So what brings you here, Mr. Kippers?”

  “Dalton, please.” She nodded. “You see, Dev helped me out a while back, and I have yet to have the opportunity to thank her, let alone repay the favor. And it seems I won’t be doing that any time soon, since I’m here on business, and it looks like I need her expertise
once again.” I gave her my best sheepish look.

  The woman looked over her shoulder at her daughter. “Is that so?” All Devolin seemed to be able to do was nod, her gaze meeting mine and defiantly holding it.

  “I have something of yours.” I hefted up her satchel. “It would be nice to talk about your findings, if you have time?”

  “Now?” Her voice squeaked.

  Her reaction had me grinning. “No better time, don’t you think, Devolin?”

  “O-okay.”

  “Baby girl, we’ll do dinner tomorrow instead.” Joleen kissed Devolin’s cheek.

  “But—”

  “Just give me a call later,” the older woman continued.

  “Are you sure? You could—”

  “I’m pretty sure that three’s a crowd.” She smirked, then threw me a wink.

  “Mom!” The duo had me chuckling. “It’s not like that.”

  “A mother can dream, can’t she?” she said, as she proceeded toward the driver’s side. “Mr. Kippers, go easy on her. She shouldn’t overexert herself. Doctor’s orders and all.”

  “Mama!” Devolin scolded.

  “I figure since the topic at hand comes rather easily to your daughter, that our conversation isn’t going to be too strenuous.” I flashed Devolin’s mother a smile. “As it is, I’m hoping I can steal her from the one who’s currently utilizing her skills.”

  The woman’s eyes flashed toward her daughter. “I hope that works out for you. Her friend, Skylar, and I believe she could do better.”

  “I do, too. I guess I’ll just have to convince her of that.” It was my turn to wink at the woman. “It was lovely meeting you, Jo.”

  On a nod, Devolin’s mother smiled, rounded her car, got in, and drove off.

  “I can’t believe you!” Devolin exploded, as soon as her mother’s taillights had disappeared around the corner. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “Nope.” I smirked down at her, then set a hand on her lower back and swooped the other in front of us. “Shall we?”

  On a disgruntled sigh, she led the way.

  Chapter 14

  Devolin

  The nerve of him! What a manipulative sexy-assed man he was!

  I shook the latter out of my mind, concentrating on the manipulation aspect of his character.

  Where the hell does he get off on strong-arming me?

  He’d bullied me into speaking with him. Alone! Just the kind of situation I was trying to avoid.

  After that whatever-barely-there-kiss we shared earlier in the week, I knew it was imperative that I keep my distance. But seeing as it was my place, it’s not like I could run off on him, now could I?

  Not once did I imagine that helping Dalton and his team a year ago would result in meeting him in the flesh, say nothing of having him physically sitting in front of me on that too small loveseat—all hot––making me want things I shouldn’t want. It was the only place we could talk aside from sitting in the kitchen.

  The kitchen!

  That was a brilliant idea.

  “Um… Can I get you something to drink? Or eat?” Rope to tie me down with, since I’m liable to run away from here any second? I thought as I headed toward the room in question, trying to find a way to get him out of my place as quickly and painlessly as possible. Let it be noted that if I were normal, I’d be so on board for that last extracurricular.

  The man burst out laughing. His deep baritone stopped me in my tracks, my shoulders bunching toward my ears.

  “Personally, I prefer cuffs.” Shocked at the casualness in his tone, I spun around on my heel, finding him right on up in my personal space. I lost my balance. “Whoa.” He grabbed my arms to stabilize me, but didn’t let go when my footing was regained. It seemed his reaction matched the shock I knew was showing on my face. Someone once told me I shouldn’t play poker because of my tells, and right then I knew why. Dalton still had a hold of me and wasn’t showing any sign of backing away. In fact, his eyes were fused to mine, darkened in unquestionable hunger. Damn the man was potent. “But I can see myself amending that statement,” he whispered.

  My lips formed the letter without the word, “Oh,” escaping. As much as his words shocked me, they also piqued my curiosity to the point of thrilling me. “How so?” My God, what was the matter with me? Why was I pushing this somewhere I swore I wasn’t going?

  Without blinking, he gave me his answer. “I’d simply prefer to be the one doing the holding instead of having an aid.” My traitorous body leaned toward him, as quick as the words were out. Dalton broke eye contact first, effectively ending this supercharged magnetic moment of ours, and stepped back a few paces, his face closing down, as if I’d imagined the effect I had on him. “You mind talking in the kitchen?”

  Yes, the kitchen. Where it was safe. Well…safer. With a table that could provide a barrier between us.

  I cleared my throat. “That’s probably a good thing if we need my computers.”

  “I need you with me.” Dalton’s words were honest, almost desperate, after we’d finished discussing the information I’d gathered. He’d even shared what he and the team had obtained on their end, as well as their various hypothesises.

  “Brycen’s got everything I have here to help you out. You guys seem to be doing just fine, so far. He can do as good of a job as I can,” I told him.

  “You can’t tell me that you actually enjoy working for Gordon Hewitt, can you?”

  My chin dropped to my chest as I made to grab a handful of hair at the back of my head, bunching it in my hands and growling, “Not this again.”

  “He’s scum, Devolin.”

  I looked at Dalton, knowing that there’d always been something shady about my boss. Other than the fact that I suspected the information I provided the man with was used—more often than not—to strong-arm certain investors, let alone clients, it was nothing significant enough. Yet.

  “I know you have a file on him. I’m getting the sense that you’re not too crazy about some of the jobs he’s assigned you. I’m telling you that your instincts are right. You’re right in following your gut and looking into the man, Dev. The guy’s a criminal.”

  “What?” I shrieked.

  “I worked a case for a client a few years ago. A friend of mine, who’s a cop, was working that same case, but from his own angle. Please say you’ll at least think about coming to work for me.” Dalton’s hand made to grab mine but I pulled back, our fingers brushing. This made him withdraw, dry-scrubbing his face, and giving away the stress he was under as his chin dipped toward his chest in a show of defeat.

  I felt for him.

  I really did.

  “Dalton…” I sighed. “Look—”

  “I’ll double whatever he’s paying you. We’ve got a great benefits package. If you ever need to work from home—” I winced at that. “I don’t care what it takes. You were amazing when it came to finding Morgan. This case is worse. Trickier, and you know it, or you wouldn’t have tracked me down to make sure I wasn’t flying blind all the way to Mexico. You’d still be in the wind, and I’d still be running around in circles trying to make sense of why you didn’t want to be found.” His chuckle was low, sending shivers down my spine. “I can triple, if you’d like,” he persisted.

  “You don’t have to do that.” I had the feeling that I needed to buck up. Maybe it was Skylar’s voice in the back of my mind, telling me that I was better than my job with Gordon. Maybe I needed to fish or cut bait—for a lack of better terms—when it came to my insane infatuation with the man sitting before me. The moment my hand touched his forearm, I knew what I was going to do. There was no denying what was going on here. “I’ll do it.”

  His head snapped up so fast, I feared it would pop off his shoulders. “What?”

  “For no other reason than you’ve been honest with me.” My gaze held his. “But if you need another, it’s because I’m personally vested in this.” What a fucki
ng understatement! “I told you that Brycen is good enough to handle the logistics from here on out, and I have every confidence that he can, since I know he’s most definitely copied my software by now.” I gave him a prideful grin. “And even without that, I’ve been inside his system so many times over the last year, I know he’s equipped to get you through the Wentworth case.”

  “I can’t help but sense there’s a but in there somewhere.”

  He was right.

  I nodded. “I can’t sit here and say that I’ll keep out of things. It’s not in my nature,” I explained. “I have to see this through to the end.”

  “What’s in it for you, aside from the salary?”

  “Isn’t that enough?” I knew he’d say no, so I elaborated. “I get to close a door for once in my life, instead of having someone close it for me.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  “It means that I knew it wasn’t the end when I hung up on you a year ago.” I bowed my head toward the tabletop. That was the hardest confession I’d ever had to disclose yet. “Maybe it would have been, had I not been obsessed with keeping tabs, but…” I picked at my nails.

  “So you felt that…connection?”

  I nodded. “You made me wish I was there. That I was part of the team. You made me want to run away and hide, too. I work alone for a reason.”

  His brows furrowed. “But why?”

  “Because it’s easier.”

  “It’s lonely, and something tells me that you’ve had your fair share of lonely.”

  I shrugged. “It’s not all that bad.”

  “Bullshit.”

  My head snapped up, eyes narrowing on him. “Excuse me?”

  “I said—”

  I bolted to my feet, fisting my hands on my hips. “I know what you said. Now explain why you said it.”

  He pushed back from his chair and came to stand toe-to-toe with me. I had no choice but to look up and up…and up. Christ on a crutch he was tall. “I don’t know what happened to you to make you pull away from people, but I can see it in your eyes, Dev.” His voice softened, having the same effect on my anger. “You want to be a part of something, but you’re scared.”