Midnight Alias

by Elle Kennedy

  She was quiet for a moment. “I’d do some traveling. That was one of the reasons I wanted to be a teacher—I adore kids and love being around them, but a job where you get the summers off? That’s a huge plus. I’d love to go to Scotland or England and see some castles.”

  “Castles?” he echoed.

  “Don’t make fun of me. I like castles, all right?”

  He had to laugh. “All right. Traveling. What else do you want to do?”

  “Not much else,” she admitted. “I don’t want crazy adventures. I’d prefer to cuddle on the couch and watch a movie, or go for a walk in the park or a drive in the country. I’m not into fancy restaurants—I’d pick one of those all-day-breakfast diners over a five-star restaurant any day.”

  “A woman after my own heart,” he declared, reaching for her hand and planting a huge smack of a kiss on her knuckles.

  Laughing, she snuggled closer to him, and as he continued to play with her hair, he realized just how much her answers had pleased him. His job went hand in hand with crazy adventures, and when he got back from a gig, he didn’t want to do anything but take it easy. Olivia’s description of what she considered a good time sounded pretty damn appealing to him. Cuddling and watching movies? Taking long walks and admiring some castles? Count him in.

  Getting ahead of yourself, pal . . .

  Yeah, he was definitely thinking way too far ahead here. He had no idea how Olivia even felt about him. Hell, he wasn’t sure what he felt for her.

  “Do you have anything planned for today?” he asked.

  “I need to stop by the admissions office on campus.” Her voice grew pained. “I’m going to drop out.”

  He looked over in shock. “What? Why?”

  “Because I’m leaving the city,” she reminded him. “Midterms are starting, and today is the last day to drop classes. If I don’t do it now, I won’t get any of my tuition money back.”

  Luke smothered a sigh. Damn. He knew it killed her to drop out of school, but he couldn’t think of anything encouraging to say. She was right. No matter how this went down, she had to get out of New York. If Angelo was arrested, De Luca might target her. If Angelo walked free, then she’d be right back where she started—under that man’s thumb. Leaving town was her only option.

  He dragged a comforting hand over her back. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I know how important school is to you.”

  The breath she released was shaky. “It is. It’s very important. At NYU, I feel . . . like I have value, I guess. Like I’m more than a pretty face. When I hand in a paper or take a test, I’m judged based on my knowledge and the application of that knowledge.” Anger crept into her tone. “Everywhere else, I’m judged by my looks. People expect me to be an airhead or a spoiled brat, and at the club . . . nobody expects me to be anything. Just a pair of tits and a nice ass.”

  Her emphatic words evoked a rush of guilt inside him. He’d been enamored of her looks too, back when she had been nothing more than Livy Lovelace, the goddess he had the pleasure of ogling at the Diamond Mine. It shamed him that he’d also assumed she’d be just another airhead stripper.

  “You’re more than T&A, Olivia,” he said gruffly. “I’m serious—most of the things I like about you are completely unrelated to the way you look.”

  “Oh really?” Her dark brows lifted in challenge as she craned her neck to look up at him. “What do you like about me?”

  “Your strength—” When she opened her mouth to protest, he gave her shoulder a playful pinch. “Don’t give me that bull about not being strong, because you are. You’ve been working your butt off and taking care of your mom for years now—you’re telling me that doesn’t take strength?”

  “I guess,” she conceded.

  “And I love your resilience,” he went on. “The way you bounce back no matter what hardships life throws your way. I love that dry, subtle sense of humor of yours.” He faltered, his throat closing up a little. “And your presence . . . soothes me. I feel incredibly content when I’m around you. And . . . safe.”

  Her breath hitched. “Safe?”

  “Yeah, like I can tell you anything, and you won’t judge me for it.” The way he’d told her about Katrina. Fuck. He still couldn’t believe he’d opened up to her about that. Not even his closest friends knew all the details surrounding his father’s death.

  Olivia cleared her throat. “That’s quite a list you just recited.”

  “That was the short version. There are a hundred more things I like about you.” He decided to lighten the mood. “And yes, that gorgeous, traffic-stopping face is one of them.”

  “My face does more than stop traffic—it sets off metal detectors too,” she quipped.

  Luke snorted. “Yeah, and how does it do that?”

  “Here, give me your hand.” She propped herself up on one elbow and took the hand he offered, bringing it to her left cheek. “Okay, feel this spot? Press down on it.”

  He pressed his fingers where she indicated, felt the unmistakable evidence of metal beneath her smooth skin, and chuckled. “Gross,” he teased. “What are you, the Terminator?”

  “My cheekbone collapsed when I was attacked, and the surgeon had to use a steel plate and a couple of screws to fix it.” She laughed. “So, yeah, I guess that does make me half robot now.”

  A knock suddenly sounded on the door.

  “Liv?” a soft voice called. “Are you up?”

  Olivia jumped out of bed so fast it was almost comical. She looked at Luke lying on the rumpled sheets, then at her own naked body. “I’m up!” she practically shouted. “I’ll be out in a minute, Mom.”

  “I’m making breakfast,” her mother said through the door. She paused. “How does your friend like his eggs?”

  Busted.

  Luke had to grin when the color drained out of Olivia’s face. Taking pity on her, he cleared his throat and called out, “Over easy.”

  There was a soft chuckle, followed by footsteps retreating down the corridor.

  “Why did you say that?” Olivia hissed.

  He blinked. “She knew I was here. It would have been impolite not to answer.”

  As Olivia began snatching up items of clothing, he felt a flicker of irritation. She was acting like she really, really didn’t want him to meet her mom, but why the hell not? He doubted Kathleen Taylor thought her daughter was a virgin, and she hadn’t sounded pissed just now, so what was Olivia’s problem?

  Knowing that now was not the time to argue, he rose from the tangled sheets and found his clothes. He slipped into his cargo pants and buttoned up his black long-sleeve, but didn’t bother with socks or boots. “Before I forget,” he said as Olivia hurriedly got dressed, “I need your phone.”

  “But I tossed the one you gave me, like you asked.”

  “Not the disposable. Your real phone.”

  Frowning, she reached for her purse and found her BlackBerry, then handed it over. The frown deepened as she watched Luke pry out the SIM card and shove it in his back pocket. “What are you doing?”

  He held up another SIM card. “Replacing it with this. This card’s got a tracker embedded in it. That way we’ll be able to find you if anything ever happens. Even if the phone’s off, the transmitter emits a signal, and Holden can monitor it on his laptop.”

  “Oh. All right.”

  He popped in the new card. “Also, I need something you can always keep on you. Jewelry would be best—a necklace, bracelet, ring . . . ?”

  Olivia walked over to the dresser and flipped open her jewelry box. She rummaged around for a moment. “Will this do?” she asked, holding up a silver chain with a small diamond-studded cross dangling from it. “It was a present from Vince, so he won’t be suspicious if I wear it all the time.”

  Luke examined the necklace. They could easily pry out one of those little diamonds and get a tracking device in there. “It’s perfect,” he replied. “I’ll get it back to you later. We’ll bug it as well.” He met her eyes. “Ready for breakf
ast?”

  “Not really,” she said with a stony look.

  He sighed. “I’ll wash up and meet you in the kitchen.” Then he slid out the door before she could protest.

  He used the head, pulled a toothpaste-on-the-finger brushing, then splashed cold water on his face and dried it with a fuzzy pink hand towel. His split lip looked moderately better—no longer swollen but still red, which meant that Olivia’s mother would definitely notice it. He hoped it wouldn’t ruin her first impression of him.

  When he stepped into the hall, he heard murmured voices wafting from the kitchen. He followed the voices to the kitchen doorway, pausing to look around the room. It was tiny, all the appliances crammed in on one side of the space, and a small round table with four plastic chairs by the other wall.

  An incredibly thin woman stood by the stove, tending to the eggs sizzling in a pan. Olivia hovered around her, trying to take over. “Come on, sit down,” she was urging. “You’re supposed to be resting.”

  Even though Kathleen was bald and downright frail, Luke could see the resemblance between the two women, especially when Olivia’s mother turned to the door and eyed him with sharp green eyes the same shade as her daughter’s. She had Olivia’s features as well, though Kathleen’s face was hollow and gaunt. Luke’s heart constricted at the sight, but at the same time, a little burst of admiration went off inside him. Kathleen Taylor was a survivor to the core.

  “Good morning,” he said. He fidgeted for a second, then entered the room, mostly because the aroma of cooking bacon was too appealing to walk away from.

  Kathleen relinquished the spatula to Olivia and slowly walked toward him. Those astute eyes swept up and down, side to side, taking in the stubble on his chin and the case of bed head he no doubt sported. Not to mention the busted lip.

  “Good morning,” she answered. She extended a hand. “I’m Kathleen. Liv’s mother.”

  He shook her hand, saddened to realize he could crush those brittle fingers without even trying. Olivia’s mother hadn’t had an easy time with her last round of chemo; that much was obvious. “Luke Dubois,” he said.

  Kathleen gave a small nod. “I like that name. It’s strong.”

  He grinned. “I probably shouldn’t tell you my middle name then. It’ll make you change your mind.”

  “Have a seat. I only made you two eggs, but from the looks of you, you probably need half a dozen.”

  Sinking into a chair, Luke rested his forearms on the table and glanced at Olivia’s mother. “You should sit too,” he informed her. “Otherwise I think your daughter might have a panic attack.”

  From the stove, Olivia shot him a glare, then bestowed one on her mother. “Seriously, Mom, sit down.”

  Kathleen settled in the chair across from his, and the two of them spent a moment sizing each other up.

  “So . . . what happened to your face?” she asked briskly.

  “A friend and I had a little disagreement.” He flashed her a grin. “But we kissed and made up and all is good now. Nobody can stay angry with me for long.”

  Kathleen didn’t even crack a smile. Instead, she continued to appraise him like he was a piece of meat she was considering either cooking or throwing away. As her silent inspection dragged on, Luke saw his chances of gaining her approval slipping away. At least until she asked what he did for a living.

  When he replied, “Military,” he won her over.

  “My late husband was a marine,” she revealed. “A true hero.”

  Luke thought he heard Olivia snort, but when he glanced at her, she was busy sliding the cooked eggs onto a ceramic plate.

  “What military branch are you in?” Kathleen asked, her tone much warmer now.

  “I’m former navy. SEALs. Now I do freelance work for the government.” Not entirely true, but he wasn’t about to reveal he was a mercenary who had no problem breaking the law if it came down to it. Besides, the team did take a lot of government contracts, like this latest gig for the DEA. So, not entirely a lie.

  Olivia walked over with two plates, one for each of them. The difference in meals was astounding—while Luke’s plate was piled high with bacon, eggs, toast, and sliced tomatoes, Kathleen had only a single poached egg, a scoop of cottage cheese, and an unbuttered piece of bread. Apparently chemo really did a number on your appetite.

  Olivia joined them a moment later with her own plate, and the three of them dug in.

  “So how did you meet my daughter?” Kathleen inquired.

  Olivia’s head swung in his direction. Despite her blank expression, he could hear her unspoken warning.

  “At the restaurant,” he answered lightly. “I was there for a blind date, but the woman never showed. Liv was my waitress, and I think she felt sorry for me. My dinner ended up being free.”

  Relief flickered in Olivia’s eyes, while Kathleen’s twinkled playfully. “I’ll bet you weren’t too disappointed to be stood up.”

  “Not after I met your daughter,” he agreed. “Ten minutes in her company and I knew I’d lucked out.”

  Man, he had lucked out, hadn’t he? He shot Olivia a sidelong look, but her face remained impassive. And her shoulders were kind of stiff, as if she wasn’t enjoying a second of this impromptu breakfast. In fact, she didn’t say much for the remainder of the meal, not even when Kathleen regaled Luke with stories about Olivia’s childhood. He laughed when she told him how Olivia used to cry when she couldn’t go to school on national holidays, but in truth, the story was only another reminder of how different they were.

  Olivia Taylor was too smart. Too serious. Teacher, lawyer—it didn’t matter what she chose to do with her life because her career was only a means to get what she really wanted: security. He saw it so clearly now, especially when Kathleen mentioned Olivia’s marine father again and he saw Olivia’s lips curl in distaste.

  “You remind me a bit of Eddie,” Kathleen said as she nibbled on the crust of her toast.

  “How so?” he asked.

  “It seems like nothing fazes you.” She smiled knowingly. “A lot of men would have snuck out the window when their girlfriend’s mother knocked on the door. In fact, I suspected you might bolt.”

  He decided not to even touch the girlfriend thing. “I never bolt,” he said with a shrug. “If anything, I run toward trouble.”

  Olivia stiffened next to him.

  “Eddie was like that too. Always running into the heart of danger. He was very reckless, that man.”

  With a loud scrape of her chair, Olivia stood up and carried her plate to the sink. Luke instantly knew something was wrong. He suspected it had to do with the topic of her father, but he didn’t want to bring it up in front of Kathleen. Instead, he chewed his last bite of bacon and then he got up too.

  “Here, let me take this,” he said, gesturing to Kathleen’s empty plate.

  “Thank you, Luke.”

  He headed over to the sink and gently intercepted Olivia’s hand before she could turn on the faucet. “I’ll clean up.”

  She balked. “No, that’s fine. You’re the guest.”

  “And you need to get ready for school,” he reminded her. He left out the part about dropping out, what with her mother in the room.

  Although she looked reluctant, she gave a nod. “Fine. I’m going to hop in the shower then.”

  After she left the kitchen, Luke grabbed a sponge and some dish soap and began washing the dishes. When he felt Kathleen’s eyes on him, he glanced over his shoulder and said, “Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

  “Don’t hurt her.”

  He’d figured he’d get the what-are-your-intentions speech, so her firm but gentle plea caught him off guard. “What makes you think I’m going to hurt her?” he asked roughly.

  “Like I said, you remind me of Eddie. And Eddie, God bless his soul, wasn’t the most sensitive man on the planet. The thing I said about his love for danger? Well, it often came before his love for his wife. I understood that about him. Sadly, Olivia doe
sn’t.”

  Luke swallowed. “She doesn’t want a daredevil in her life, does she?”

  “Most definitely not. My daughter craves normalcy. A steady job, steady husband, steady life. I’m afraid it’s her way of ensuring she doesn’t end up like me.”

  “Hey, don’t say that. She loves—”

  “She loves me,” Kathleen finished. “Yes, of course she does. But she thinks I wasted my life on her father, and now she’s determined to have the kind of life she thinks I should have had.”

  Luke placed a clean plate on the drying rack and reached for another dish. “I won’t hurt her, ma’am. I promise you.”

  Kathleen’s expression softened. “I believe you mean that.”

  “I do mean it.”

  “Good.” Now those green eyes hardened to steel. “With that said, if you do hurt my daughter? You’ll have me to contend with, Luke Dubois.”

  A laugh tickled his throat. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

  * * *

  Rocko’s call came while Vince was going over the following week’s employee schedule. “What is it?” he demanded, absently initialing the paperwork.

  “There’s been a development,” Rocko said.

  Impatience rippled through him. “What kind of development?”

  “There was a man at her apartment.”

  The blast of rage that slammed into him was so ferocious he nearly fell right out of his chair. “What are you talking about?”

  “A man climbed out of her window and went down the fire escape.”

  “Did you see him go in last night?”

  “Winters was posted at the back of the building since nine o’clock yesterday. He says he didn’t see anyone use the fire escape yesterday or anytime this morning. The guy must have showed up last night before you assigned Winters and Del Vido to join me on guard duty.”

  Acid burned a path up Vince’s throat. The thought of Olivia—of his girl—spending the night with another man made his vision go hazy. Red-hot fury spiraled through him. “Where is the motherfucker now?”

  “He followed her when she left the apartment. He’s driving a black Range Rover with New York plates.” Rocko cleared his throat. “She’s on campus right now. I’m on her.”