by T Gephart
“Chief,” Tibbs rapped on my open doorframe, his backpack still strapped to one shoulder. I’d half expected North, looking to ride me some more about Hayden, my body relaxing a little when it wasn’t.
“What’s up, Tibbs? Cutting it a little close.” I tapped my watch, only a minute until his shift officially started.
“Yeah, I know, sorry. Issues with my sister, had to stop by and take her to my parents’ this morning.” He took a seat opposite my desk. “Which is what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Justin Tibbs was twenty-six, and when he wasn’t fucking everything that moved, he was an incredible firefighter. He came to us as a rookie, fresh faced right out of the academy, full of testosterone but without the smooth confidence of North. But when shit got critical, he left the cocky bullshit on the sidelines and brought his A game. So if he was coming to see me with personal problems, I knew it had to be pretty serious.
“What’s happening? Presley okay?” I lowered my coffee giving him my attention.
In the time Tibbs had been with us, we’d seen Presley go from a cute college kid to a gorgeous woman who turned almost everyone’s head when she walked into the stationhouse. Smart, beautiful, and as fearless as her older brother, it was a huuuuuuuge pain in the ass for Tibbs. The warning thrown down that his sister was off limits made more than once.
He tipped his chin, the tension rolling in his shoulders. “Well, depends on your definition of okay. Her ex-boyfriend broke into her apartment last night when she was at work and trashed the place. Presley ended up staying with a friend, so didn’t notice until she got home around six.”
“You call—”
“Yeah,” he nodded, not letting me finish. “NYPD were down there this morning. That’s how we knew it was him. Asshole fucking left his ballcap in the kitchen, like a complete idiot. The same ballcap that has his DJ logo and name.” He shook his head. “Anyway, I took her to my mom’s till we can get the locks changed. And before you say anything, he wasn’t home when I went looking so I didn’t do anything.”
Tibbs was also a hothead, that extra testosterone not doing anyone any favors. And I was positive that if he had found Presley’s ex, I’d have already gotten a call to bail him out.
“Good. Not saying the cocksucker wouldn’t have deserved it, but last thing your sister or your parents need is you getting your ass hauled to jail on an assault charge. Let the law handle it. I can call my friend at the courthouse to help her with the restraining order, and I’m positive we can have a unit do a drive by for a couple of nights.”
We were a family and took care of our own, and if some asshole was terrorizing Tibbs’s sister, then he was going to be on a lot of people’s shit lists. I almost felt sorry for the guy, except I really hated shit-for-brains jerkoffs who abused women.
“I guess.” He shrugged, his jaw so tight I was surprised it hadn’t cracked. “But this guy is a real piece of shit. He pulled a gun on her once. Can you believe that? What kind of man does that? She didn’t even tell me, I only found out because I was there when the cops interviewed her and they asked if he’d ever been violent. I swear to God if he goes anywhere near her or so much as breathes in her direction again—”
“You will call me,” I warned, leaving no room for interpretation. “And the two of us will sit him down for a discussion. No vigilante bullshit, okay?” Not saying I wouldn’t let him rough him up a little. Hell, not a lot I could do if my back was turned, was there? But at least if I was around, I could keep a handle on it. Make sure the asshole didn’t end up in a body bag and Tibbs didn’t end up in cuffs. “I mean it, Tibbs. Whatever you or Presley need, we’ll get you. But I need your word you will not go off on a solo mission.”
He nodded, not liking the directive but not dumb enough to disobey it either. “You good for work today, or do we need to call in cover?” I asked, respecting him enough to make the call himself. “If your head is somewhere else then go home and cool off. I need you on all cylinders.”
“I’m solid, Chief. A little edgy but nothing a session in the weight room won’t fix. Not going to let you down.”
“Good, exactly what I wanted to hear.” Pushing away from my desk, I walked around to him. “If anything changes, I’m your first port of call.”
Tibbs rose from his seat, joining me on his feet. “Thanks, Chief. Hey, if you’re not doing anything, maybe we could go out tomorrow night. It’s been a while since you’ve been to Presley’s club.”
I knew what he was hinting at, and shooting the shit with me wasn’t it. He wanted to check out the club his sister worked at, see if their security was up to par or if the lowlife might try something in a public place. But he wanted to keep his little recon mission under the guise of a night out so his sister didn’t chew him out for hovering. Presley might be female, but she was still a Tibbs, and being a hothead was genetic.
“It’s been a while because I don’t like hanging around with teenagers and paying thirty dollars for a beer. But if you want to make it a team effort, I’ll tag along.”
“Great, thanks,” he gave me the first real smile since he’d walked in. “Hey, maybe we can find you a girl. Improve your mood a little.” The grin got a little wider.
I rolled my eyes, the discussion of my sex life not one we’d be having. “First off, I have no interest in girls. I date women, something you might want to try before your dick falls off. And there’s nothing wrong with my mood. I even baked you assholes cookies, so you might want to get out there before they’re all gone.”
“You baked?” A mixture of surprise and shock flooded his face. “Did someone die?”
“Get out of here,” I laughed, slapping him across the shoulders.
He didn’t linger, not bothering to hide the smile as he tipped his chin goodbye and left.
There was no telling how the day was going to go, and since I was already debating whether or not to call Hayden, it was probably for the best that I got myself busy.
Hayden.
Should have baked more cookies.
It was a surprise to everyone that Riley was joining us at the club.
With Quinn ready to go into labor any day, we expected he’d be home, checking the tire pressure of his truck and plotting fifty different contingencies for when the big day arrived. Which apparently he’d already done. It prompted Quinn to beg me to take him off her hands for an evening, the need for sleep more important than having her husband home.
“You sure I shouldn’t stick around?” North lingered at the door, the decision to spend the night at a club not his own. “What if something happens and I’m not here?”
“Karli and Brad are right next door.” She pushed playfully against his chest. “Besides, how do you think I manage when you’re at work? Go, have a good time and find out more information about Mack’s new girlfriend.”
I raised a brow, giving Riley the look.
“What? We’re married, I have to tell her,” he had the nerve to laugh.
Quinn nodded, holding up her ring finger. “It’s true, a contractual obligation.”
“Nowhere in your marriage vows does my business come into it. Love, honor, cherish—not discussing Mack.”
It was a waste of breath when both of them were involved, neither of them listened. But if talking about me meant distracting Riley enough to let Quinn get some R and R, then I’d take the hit.
“Your business, our business, it’s kinda the same thing. Besides, we love you and want you to be happy.” Quinn threw her arms around me in a hug. “And you’re welcome.”
“Funny, I don’t remember saying thank you.” I hugged her back, her belly making it difficult.
“Awww it’s okay, Riley mentioned you’ve been forgetful lately,” she chuckled.
Hell, soon there was going to be another of them.
“And on that note, kid, let’s go.”
After more minutes than was actually needed to say goodbye, Riley was satisfied Quinn would call if she so much as felt a m
uscle out of place. And we were on the road back to Midtown. It didn’t really make sense for me to drive to Brooklyn considering the club was literally in my neighborhood, but unless I turned up on North’s door and dragged him out, there wasn’t a chance he’d leave. So we’d compromised. He took his truck, I took mine, and if he had to make a hasty exit, he didn’t have to rely on my “old man driving.”
I’d reached for my phone on more than one occasion, the itch to call Hayden crawling up my skin. But it had taken some work to get the number in the first place and I didn’t want to overplay the card. Plus, she had sent me—unprompted—a text telling me she was looking forward to tomorrow night, and I knew she was gun shy. Last thing she’d want was twenty questions from me. So instead I played it cool, sending her a few casual text messages during the day but keeping my need to speak to her to myself.
It was just as well I was going out.
No way I’d do it with an audience, so less likely to cave if I kept myself social. And while the last people I’d ask for dating advice would be the rocket scientists in my company, it would at least serve as educational. Possibly on what not to do, sure as shit couldn’t hurt considering I’d been out of practice for a while.
By the time we got to Diablo, Tibbs and Leighton were already there.
“Well, well, well.” Presley looked anything but surprised when we walked in. As the club’s manager, not much got past her even if Riley and I weren’t over six foot.
“Chief, to what do we owe this pleasure?” She gave me a small kiss on the cheek. “And North, really? Don’t you have better things to do?”
“You and I both know that it takes a full crew to stop your brother from making a fool of himself,” he grinned, leaning down and giving her a hug. “You should be thanking us, saving the female population of your fine establishment from his hideous pick-up routine.”
She planted her hands on her hips, not buying it for a second. “Just keep him out of trouble. Lewis wouldn’t be stupid enough to walk in here, and if he did, I have enough security to take over a small country.”
Didn’t doubt it either. Presley was beautiful, but she wasn’t running one of the biggest clubs in New York because of her pretty face. Still, smart or not, if it were my sister, couldn’t say my reaction would be any different. “Heard he pulled a gun? Can’t say I blame Tibbs for wanting to be extra sure.”
“That was a few months ago and the reason I kicked him out in the first place.” Her gaze didn’t faulter as she met mine. “And I’ve got it handled. But you should be less worried about me, and more concerned about your ex-wife.”
And to think I’d planned on having a decent night.
Just the mention of Melinda could ruin even the best of days. “And why would that be?”
Presley tipped her head to the bar. “She’s turning into a regular, been here every night this week. And tonight, is three cocktails in.”
Great.
Just fucking great.
My jaw tightened, every muscle in my body tensing even though I hadn’t seen her yet. Of all the places she could be, she had to pick the one I was at. “Thanks for the tip off. And sorry if she’s been any trouble.”
“Oh Mack, when are you going to stop apologizing for her? She is her own disaster, and you were waaaaay to good for her. And as much as I’d like to toss her out, she hasn’t given me a reason to. Yet. But trust me, if she steps out of line, she’ll be gone.”
“Well, sounds like a fun night.” Riley had the nerve to laugh. “Should we go over and say hello, or slip the bartender a fifty to put hot sauce in her drink?”
“Enjoy, gentlemen. And Mack, it was great seeing you. Forty-five looks good on you.” She gave me a friendly tap on the chest and then disappeared into the crowd.
Riley’s eyes cut to me, and I figured he’d have something to say. “You know she’s doing this to get your attention. She knows this is Presley’s club, knows eventually one of us will turn up.”
“She’s called a couple of times. I didn’t answer.”
It was unlike me to ignore her, usually figuring it was easier just to talk to her and get it over with. But after her latest request, I was less enthused to have further conversations. Didn’t want to scratch that old wound, even if it made me feel like a pussy because it still kinda hurt. Then meeting Hayden had pretty much put a nail in that coffin. “Let’s go find Tibbs and Leighton. Like Presley said, she’s not my problem anymore.”
Riley’s eyes peeled back in surprise, not expecting my response. “Wow. Yeah, we should definitely go find Leighton and Tibbs.”
Avoiding the bar entirely—and whoever was sitting there—we moved to the back part of the club. Tibbs and Leighton had commandeered a table and were entertaining a couple of ladies.
“Chief!” Leighton stood, slapping me on the back. “Can’t believe Tibbs talked you into this.”
“Yeah, I can’t believe it either.” I shook my head, tipping my chin to Tibbs who was getting the number of one of his female friends. “We can go find another table,” I suggested, not wanting to cramp their style.
I was happy for them to continue entertaining if that was what they wanted to do, just didn’t want a front-row seat for it. Figured Riley would probably feel the same, preferring to sit with the old man than watch his two buddies create a floorshow.
“Not necessary.” Tibbs kissed the brunette—who incidentally was not the girl whose number he got—both of the ladies vacating their seats and waving him goodbye.
“Two?” North laughed. “Jesus, Tibbs, you’ve got to stop using my deodorant. Not sure you can handle the pace.”
He flipped North off, shoving the number/numbers into his pocket as he grinned. “Laugh all you want, North. But since you met Quinn, you left a big gaping hole in the market. And I’m more than happy to fill it.”
“Not the best choice of words, Tibbs,” I cringed. “Just try and be respectful. And what about you?” I looked to Leighton, surprised we hadn’t caught him mid dry hump as well.
“I . . .er . . . figured I’d didn’t want to be distracted. You know, in case I’m needed.” He rubbed his chin awkwardly, not convincing me there wasn’t more to his lack of female company. Still, I wasn’t there to argue, willing to buy into his BS if it made the night easier.
Riley and I each took a seat, a waitress with some beers making her way over. “These are from Presley.” The waitress smiled, laying the four cold longnecks on the table. “Said it was to save you from having to go to the bar.”
Tibbs grabbed his beer, toasting Leighton before taking a swig. “Tell Presley thanks, but if this is her way of keeping me at my table, she’ll have to be more creative than that.”
North laughed, thanking the waitress and tipping her, but leaving his bottle untouched. “Your ability to think everything is about you never ceases to amaze me. Melinda is at the bar.”
Riley and his big fucking mouth.
Waiting until after the waitress left, I took a pull on my beer before elaborating. “Apparently she’s been a frequent flyer lately.”
“What?” Tibbs screwed his face up in confusion. “But she knows this is Presley’s club, why would she come here?”
Melinda and I had still been married on Diablo’s opening night. We’d been guests of Presley, with Melinda complaining she was bored only thirty minutes in. We stayed despite her protests, getting into a huge argument later. It was the beginning of the end. And any other time I visited Diablo, I did so alone. So other than her recent patronage, opening night was the only time she’d been in the place.
“I haven’t answered her calls. Guess it’s her way of making a point.” I shrugged, not qualified to work out what went on in her head. “Ignore her. She’ll eventually get tired of whatever game she is playing.”
“No offense, Chief, but I’m not even sure how you guys stayed married for so long. She’s fucking beautiful, but Lord, she is batshit crazy.” Leighton’s eyes widened, tipping his drink back.
&
nbsp; “We done talking about me? Surely you have better topics of conversation?”
The failure of my marriage wasn’t something I liked to think about, especially not around men whose respect I demanded. But whether I wanted to admit it or not, Leighton had a point.
“Hey, I need to make a call.” I excused myself, taking my beer and moving away from the table. Guess having an audience wasn’t going to be as big a deterrent as I thought, pulling out my phone without bothering to wait.
Maybe it just took seeing what I didn’t want, to know what I really did. And whether I was playing it cool or not, I wanted to call Hayden.
And that was damn well what I was going to do.
Hayden
WHEN PENNY HAD suggested a night out with her friends on Friday night, I’d assumed maybe dinner and cocktails. A movie?
Not a nightclub in SoHo.
Because that was apparently my life now. Clubs—something I’d actively avoided for years—had somehow become a cornerstone in my freaking emotional development. Still, it could always be worse. I heard women these days were steaming their vaginas and doing Kegels in organized groups. Not sure I’d be so down for that kind of girls’ night out.
It was trendy, loud, and filled with so many beautiful people that I felt like I was in a bad dream. The kind where you realize you’re standing in front of a large crowd about to make a speech and you forgot to wear pants. Thankfully, being naked was about the only thing I didn’t have to worry about.
“Come on, Hayden, dance with us.” She swirled her long blonde hair while simultaneously taking a shot of tequila. “Here, have this, it’ll help loosen you up.”
I shook my head, waving off the offer of yet another shot. “Penny, any more and I’m not going to be able to stand, let alone dance.”
As promised, her friends were great. Welcoming and kind, but ten to fifteen years younger than I was. And while I wanted to live in the fantasy that I could still keep up with people in their late twenties/early thirties, my body had other ideas.