by Jane Jamison
“Who are you calling scrawny?” Still, Dane was grinning. “Anyway, we knew each other through mutual friends out in Vegas.”
“Vegas, huh? I bet there’s a story.”
“Nah. Just the usual stuff. A friend of a friend.”
“But coming from Vegas to San Antonio? Not to mention ranching? Did you own a ranch there?”
“No. I was selling real estate, and Micah was day trading, which is what he still does. I spend all my time working the ranch,” answered Dane.
“Day trading, huh? I could never do that. My nerves would be a mess.”
“It’s not so bad. I like the fast pace of it. And the risk.”
“And he’s very good at it, too,” added Dane.
“Day trading’s not all I do. I take care of the ranch’s finances, too. Plus, I love collecting art. In fact, I added a great piece to my collection last night.”
She paused and eyed him. “You bought one of my paintings?”
“I sure did.”
“When? You guys left before I did.” Had he bought it to make an impression on her? Or had he really liked her work?
Micah repositioned his hat. “I have my connections.”
“Which one did you buy?”
“Blue Moonlight.”
“So you’re the one?” The painting was one of her favorites. She’d done the image sitting on top of a cliff overlooking the Grand Canyon. The purple and blues of the twilight scene gave the canyon an otherworldly feeling. “I haven’t had time to look at the names of the buyers yet, but I’m glad you bought it.”
“Hey, I liked it, too.” Dane sounded like a young kid vying for her attention.
“But I’m the one who bought it.”
They seemed to like verbally jarring with each other like two boys who’d become the best of friends after a fight.
“Thank you. The money went to my other passion, the women’s shelter.”
“No problem. I would’ve bought more if I’d had more time to look around.”
They let a comfortable silence ease between them as the sun dropped lower on the horizon. She busied herself, painting as quickly as she could.
“How’s it going?”
She wondered if Micah was getting tired of sitting on the horse then took in the horizon to the left of her. The light was fading, casting shadows where they’d been no shadows earlier. “Okay. Although I won’t be able to keep going for much longer.”
“It must be tough painting outdoors.” Dane shifted in his saddle but returned to his original position. His horse pranced a bit, showing its readiness to do more than stand in one place. “I mean, it’s got to be tougher than having someone come into your studio where you can control the light.”
“You’re right. Which is why I took the photos. They’ll be my references later. Still, the more I can get down outside in the natural light, the better the painting will be. It’s a tradeoff, I guess. Better painting, but it’s tougher getting there.”
She took in a breath, realizing her prediction had come true. The sun cast an entirely different hue over her subjects. “I think that’s all I can do for today. It’ll be dark soon.”
She turned at the sound of a car kicking up the gravel on the road leading to the house. A red pickup roared to a stop next to her car.
Detective Draper threw open the door and jumped out, striding toward her as though he couldn’t get to her fast enough. She laid her brush down, finding her hand shaking.
“Detective, do you have news?”
Chapter Five
“Sorry. No.” Ryan came next to her, his focus shifting to Micah and Dane. “Same one, guys.”
Same one what?
Julie wiped the paint off her hands. Irritated that he’d barely answered her, she kept her feelings to herself. After all, she’d already found out that getting angry at the detective wouldn’t do her any good. She started cleaning up, ready to get away.
Or at least, that’s what she told herself. Inside, however, she was a bundle of nerves. The three men who had somehow brought her back to life, making her think she was ready to start looking for another relationship, knew each other.
She checked her phone, wondering if Brenna had tried to call her. As put out as she was at Ryan, she was more worried about her friend. “So you didn’t find out anything new? Nothing at all?”
“About what?” asked Dane. He and Micah dismounted, wrapping the reins around one of the lower hanging branches.
“Like I told you last night, Julie volunteers at a women’s shelter. I’m trying to keep her friend and the friend’s daughter safe from her abusive husband,” offered Ryan.
“From your husband?” Micah searched her for an answer. “I thought you said he was in prison, Julie.”
“My ex-boyfriend is. It’s Brenna’s husband who’s causing problems.”
“Your ex is in prison?”
“Yes.” She didn’t want to get into it with Ryan. “But he doesn’t have anything to do with Brenna.”
In a few days, would she be in the same predicament? The hearing had been that morning. If things didn’t go her way, Hank could be free soon. She pushed away the troubling idea. He’d sworn he wouldn’t bother her and wouldn’t come near her once he was back on the outside. The problem was, Hank wasn’t known for keeping his promises.
“Why aren’t you guarding Brenna and Molly, anyway?” Fear combined with thoughts of Hank mixed with her irritation.
“I can’t provide her with twenty-four-hour protection. I’ve got an off-duty policeman watching her. Trust me. I’m doing the best I can.”
“Obviously, your best isn’t good enough.”
Ryan stared at her as though she’d lost her mind. And, while she couldn’t stop her emotions, she recognized that maybe, just maybe, he was right. She’d jumped all over him without a good reason. Yet she didn’t care. At once, she was angry with herself. How could she have left Brenna and Molly alone in the apartment? Why hadn’t she stayed at home? Instead, she’d put her lust for Dane and Micah over her friend’s safety.
As though he’d read her mind, Ryan stabbed her with the truth. “You should take a good long look in the mirror, baby, before you start climbing all over my ass. Why didn’t you stick with her today instead of running off to paint a couple of cowboys?” His anger drenched his tone. “And what the hell are you two doing? The chores won’t get done by themselves.”
“How the hell did we get thrown under the bus?”
She couldn’t blame Micah. “So you live here, too?” She’d hoped but hadn’t really expected their Ryan to be the same Ryan she’d met.
“I do. I own a third of the place, and I help run the ranch when I’m off duty.” Ryan’s sour expression shifted from Micah to Dane. “Right now, I feel like I’m the only one pulling his weight.”
“That’s bullshit, man,” grumbled Dane.
“Come on, Ryan. Get a grip,” added Micah.
She finished packing up her paints and stalked back to the car. Tossing them into the trunk, she stomped back and folded her easel. “Just do your damn job, Detective Draper. Do it before something horrible happens.”
“Don’t you worry, Miss Brooks. I know exactly how to do my job. You just try and be a better friend.”
She gaped at him, stunned. “Like Dane said. That’s bullshit.” Snatching up her easel, she rushed back to the car. As soon as she could get the trunk closed and the ignition key turned, she was on her way back down the gravel road.
* * * *
“She’s the one, right, Ryan?”
Dane heard Micah’s question, but it didn’t slow him down. Covering the short distance between them, he had his arm back then blazing forward as Ryan turned to answer Micah. His fist connected to his friend’s jaw, catching him off guard. Ryan went down, landing on his back.
“Fuck, man!”
Again, Dane paid little attention to Micah as his friend launched his body off the horse and ran toward him. He planted his feet apart, wait
ing as Ryan scrambled upright. Micah took hold of his arms just as Ryan came up swinging. The punch to his jaw was perfect retaliation. Dane jerked backward and fell against Micah. Pain seared into his jaw, but it didn’t stop him. He pushed away, getting back on his feet as fast as he could. He ducked just in time, avoiding the second punch.
Stunned by the blow, Micah staggered back. “Why the hell did you hit me, man?”
“Stay out of the fucking way,” demanded Ryan.
Micah and Ryan came at each other, hands fisted, the shift sweeping over them.
The last thing they needed was to have two dragons shifting in full daylight out in the open. Dane, his initial burst of anger easing, did the only thing he could think to do. Growling, he threw his body between his friends, blocking both of them from landing another blow.
“Knock it off!” He turned his dragon loose just enough for his eyes to change to red. Flickers of flame and smoke drifted out from between his razor-like fangs.
Micah and Ryan stepped back, surprised to find Dane ready to change. Their own transformations reversed, bringing them back to full human. Micah staggered away, rubbing his jaw.
Still, he couldn’t let Ryan get away with the shit he’d pulled. “Why the hell did you yell at her like that?”
“I didn’t yell at her.” Ryan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth. “Besides, she jumped on my ass first.”
“So what? You’re the one who’s supposed to be taking care of her.”
Dane eased back, doing his best to stay in control. He’d learned from experience that, once they got over the initial flare of anger, they’d begin talking and come to terms. If they didn’t, things could end up the same way their last fight had. Ryan had wound up with a broken nose, and Micah had suffered a burn on his lower back.
“I’m doing my best. But I can’t do anything unless her friend wants to press charges. Or if we catch Scruggs trying to hurt her.”
“Scruggs? Who the hell is Scruggs?”
“Scruggs is Brenna’s husband. He’s the one who tried to haul her away from the women’s shelter. Julie stopped him.”
The three of them stared at each other, trying to come to grips with what they’d learned.
“What’d Julie’s ex do to her?”
“He abused her.” Dane added the rest before Micah could. “She didn’t get into details, but it doesn’t take a detective to figure out that he treated her like shit. Bad enough that I’ll bet he put that scar on her arm. Bad enough to put his ass in prison.”
“Fuckin’ A. I’d like to wring his neck and roast him over my fire.”
Dane understood Ryan’s feeling. “Yeah. I’d let him cook nice and slow. While he was still alive.”
The tension that had flared to life so suddenly was over. Yet Dane couldn’t relax. Not until he knew what Ryan did.
“So it’s her friend, one of the women from the shelter, who’s in trouble?” At least it wasn’t Julie who was in danger. She didn’t appear as though she’d been beaten recently, but then again, clothing hid a lot of marks. Still, he had a feeling the real damage was hiding on the inside.
“Yeah. Shit. I feel like a real asshole now.” Ryan dragged his hand along his jaw. “I wouldn’t have come down on her if I’d known what she’d gone through.”
“Why aren’t you watching her friend?” Dane backed off at Ryan’s hard glare.
“The captain didn’t think we had enough to warrant any officers spending time sitting outside her place. I got one of the rookies to watch over her when I can’t. At least last night and today. I was planning on going back there tonight.”
“So that’s where you went instead of the art show.” It made sense. Ryan was a good detective but an even better man. “You missed it. She wore this tight black dress, and, damn, the girl filled it out. Oh, yeah. And her artwork is good, too.”
“You look like hell, man.” Micah grinned at Ryan then stuck out his hand. “No hard feelings, right?”
“Are there ever?”
Now that the fight was definitely over, Dane strode over to his horse. “I’ll take the first watch tonight.”
“The hell you will. You’re not a trained officer.” Ryan crossed his arms, a challenge in his tense posture.
“I’m not one, either, but I’ll take the second watch. You can have the two to seven a.m. watch.” Micah grabbed the saddle horn and pulled himself into the saddle.
“And then go straight into work?” Ryan hadn’t moved.
“Guess so. But you’re a big boy. You can handle losing a little sleep. Still, you’d better get some shuteye. And set your alarm. I’m not dragging your ass out of bed.” Dane chuckled, loving the scowl on Ryan’s face.
“I’ll take the first watch.”
“Nope. I already called it.” Dane pulled his horse to a stop.
“What are you? Five?” Ryan heeled around and started for his pickup. “You get the third shift. I’m doing the first. I’ve got some apologizing to do.”
Dane was about to protest when Micah shot him a look. “Fine. Just don’t go riling her up any more than you already have.”
* * * *
Julie loved being an artist. However, even painting didn’t give her the feeling of satisfaction that helping out at the women’s shelter did. She was thankful she had the financial capabilities to pursue the two things that meant the world to her. The shelter had thrived since she’d arrived, going from an older home always in need of repair to a large home on the edge of San Antonio. The home was close enough to all the action as well as emergency services, but far enough on the outskirts that most of the surrounding homes were distant, giving the women the seclusion and privacy they needed.
Brenna and Molly had returned to the shelter against her better judgment. She’d check on them later, but in the meantime, she wouldn’t mind enjoying a little time alone in her condo.
I need to drop off another check soon.
After setting up a foundation to manage the shelter, she’d started giving generous and anonymous gifts of money. Her parents had instilled the value of philanthropy in her. She liked to think they were smiling down on her from Heaven, telling her they were proud of how she was using the money she’d inherited.
She was deep in thought as she walked from the parking lot toward her condo. The place was a modest building, but it suited her needs. Why spend more on a lavish home when it was only her?
Micah and Dane were great, and she couldn’t wait to see them again. If given the opportunity, she would’ve liked to have hung around long enough to make more plans with them. Thankfully, she’d already emailed her phone number to Dane before she’d gone to the ranch.
But what about Ryan?
He was, like the other two, an extraordinary man. Muscles bulged under his clothing, and his face was nothing short of heroic. If she’d been asked to paint the perfect image of a policeman, she would’ve created a man much like Ryan.
Too bad he was so damn irritating.
Or was she more irritated at the situation than at him? Maybe he’d told her the truth when he’d said he couldn’t do any more than he was already doing to help Brenna. As a volunteer at the shelter, she’d never gotten involved in the dealings between the women and the police. At most, she’d paid for good attorneys rather than having them settle for the cheapest divorce representation they could find. Still, she had to believe the police could do more.
Suddenly, the sound of footsteps behind her had the hair on the back of her neck standing up. Not one to second-guess her instincts, she pivoted around, her heart in her throat.
And saw nothing.
She’d heard the steps. She was sure of it.
Hank?
Had he gotten out on parole? Did they release him already?
Please, God, no.
She picked up her pace, walking faster than before. She wouldn’t run. Not until she had to. Instead, she reached into her purse and dug around for her can of pepper spray.
Her frien
ds had all begged her to carry a gun, but she’d refused. Now she wished she’d listened.
The footsteps came again, growing closer. The stairs taking her up to her condo had never seemed so far away.
Forcing herself to think, to not give into the fear sliding into her, she wrapped her fingers around the pepper spray and took a breath. Pulling out the canister, she whirled around to face her would-be attacker. “Back off, asshole!”
Ryan let out a yowl as the spray struck him in the eyes. “Fuck!” He stumbled backward, putting his hands over his eyes.
“Oh, shit!” She dropped the spray and her purse. “Why are you following me?”
The skin around his eyes was growing red. Even his eyes were turning dark red. “I was keeping watch over you, damn it. Why the hell’d you spray me?”
“Because you were following me, you jerk. Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” She scooped up her purse and spray then wrapped her arm around him. With him moaning and her trying to help him, she was surprised to feel the unmistakable tingle of sexual excitement.
“I didn’t want to alert anyone else around you. Fuckin’ A, this stuff burns.”
“That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?” She cringed, realizing how bad she sounded. “I’m really, really sorry.”
“Just get me inside. I need to get this stuff off me.”
She led him up the steps, telling him over and over again how sorry she was. Pushing him inside, she herded him to the kitchen sink. “Stay where you are. I’m going to search online for what to do next.”
“No. Just mix together some soap and water. Make it one part soap and three parts water. I need to flush my eyes.”
“Are you sure?”
He gave her a squinted, hard look, his red eyes blazing. “Just do it, damn it.”
She pulled out a large metal bowl then added dish soap and water to it. Mixing the solution together, she set the bowl on the counter next to him. “Here.”
“Put it in the sink then put my hands in it.”
She did, hating the ugly, burned appearance of his face. His eyelids were swelling. “Okay. Now what?”