by KD Robichaux
“Are you going to be okay talking in front of them?” July asks me, and I nod, taking her hand in mine to keep from doing something stupid like beg Z to hold me.
“I went out with Eric to get some food,” I start, and a growl fills the room.
July’s head flies up to look at Z with a glare. “Can you control yourself?” she snaps, and he lifts his chin. The compulsion to go to him is even stronger, wanting to assure him that Eric is just a friend and he has nothing to worry about. But that’s just silly. Z and I are nothing to each other. Why should I feel like I need to assure him about another man?
“So you went out with Eric, and then what happened?” July prompts.
“Um.” I shake my head and pull my eyes from Z to look at her, trying to focus on telling them what happened instead of the man across the room that seems to take up all the air in the whole house. “He dropped me home and when I got inside my apartment, I was shoved into the door and someone grabbed me around the throat. They told me I needed to give you a warning.”
“What?” July whispers, squeezing my hand tighter as fear fills her every feature.
“They said if we don’t stop sticking our noses where they don’t belong, we will find out what happens to nosey little girls.” I gulp, and watch her look at Wes, whose gaze travels from Z’s to hers.
“What did they look like?” Z questions, and his deep voice coats my chest in both calmness and excitement, making me jittery.
“All I saw was a tattoo of a spider on his forehead. Really, I was too scared to pay much attention,” I reply, and more tears fill my eyes.
“It’s going to be okay,” July tries to assure me, and both of us look toward the front door as Z leaves, slamming the door behind him and making me jump. I immediately feel his absence, and my body slumps into the couch as if he took every bit of my energy with him.
“Baby,” Wes calls. “Go get her cleaned up. I’m heading out with the boys. Harlen and Everret will be outside.”
“Okay,” she agrees, and I’m vaguely aware of it as he bends over and kisses her before he’s gone too.
I try to shake myself out of the fog I’m in, resorting to my first and foremost defense mechanism—humor.
“So I’m guessing I don’t need a new calendar?” I ask her, referring to the one Wes wrote all over at work, marking July busy for lunch every single day for the foreseeable future. At the time, she was pissed, but now, she can’t even try to hide the smile lighting her eyes. “What a difference a few days makes.” I laugh.
“You’re hilarious.” She rolls her eyes. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up before Z comes back,” she says, and my teasing grin immediately turns into a wide-eyed look of panic.
“You know I can’t deal with scary hot,” I whisper, and my vision goes cloudy.
“So you’ve said.” She takes my hand and leads me toward her bedroom, where she helps me get cleaned up.
4
Z
We’ve spent the last couple hours finding out everything we can about the person with the spider tattoo who broke into Kayan’s apartment and put their hands on her. When I left July’s house, I was ready to find the fucker and rip his head from his fucking spine. Unfortunately, we didn’t find out much, and we ended up talking with July’s cousin Jax.
Back at July’s house, I stand back by the door while Wes talks to his woman, and I see the moment Kayan comes awake on the couch next to them.
“I talked to Jax,” Wes is saying to July. “Between his boys and mine, we’ll be able to figure this out.” He pulls July closer to him with a hand behind her neck. “I’m going to stay here with you and your friend until we can get some security in at her place and yours.”
“Uh, what—?” she whispers.
“That’s not happening,” Kayan cuts in, making her consciousness known. “Whoever did this isn’t going to scare me out of my own home. I love you, but I’m not staying here.”
This doesn’t surprise me one bit. She told me the night she shot me at her place that she liked her space and refused to move in with July.
“It’s not safe for you to be there alone,” July says softly, but Kayan stands up, crossing her arms over her chest.
“They are not scaring me out of my house,” she repeats.
“You’re not staying alone,” I finally speak up, stepping into the room more.
“You’re not my dad,” she replies, and her sassiness makes my dick twitch.
“You’re not staying alone, kitten,” I repeat, leaning forward and getting into her space.
“Fine, I’ll call Eric.” She shrugs, and I can see she’s purposely trying to bait me, obviously remembering my reaction earlier when she said she went out to dinner with him. It works.
“Think again,” I tell her, narrowing my eyes.
“You can’t tell me what to do!” she shouts, stomping her foot.
“Bet your sweet ass I can!” I holler back, and Wes’s dog Capone starts to bark at us.
“I’m going home!” she cries, throwing her hands up in the air in frustration while I glare at her.
“Okay, then I’m staying with you,” I say, sweeping my hand toward the door.
“What?” Kayan stops, her body freezing almost comically.
“I’m staying with you,” I repeat.
“Uhh…” She looks at July like she just realized what she had gotten herself into, and her friend smiles. “Maybe I’ll just stay here,” Kayan whispers.
“Nope,” I snap, shaking my head. “Walk your sweet ass to your car. I’ll follow you home.”
“Um…” She glances at July once more, and I can tell by the way she presses her lips together that July’s trying to keep from laughing. “Fine.” She glares at me then looks at the other woman. “I’m quitting tomorrow.”
“You were already fired,” July tells her, and my brow furrows until I realize it must be an inside joke.
“I hate you,” she grumbles at me as she stomps toward the door, but all I can do is watch her sexy ass as she passes by and heads out the front door.
“Please be nice to her,” July pleas, stealing my attention, and I give her a look, lift my chin, and then leave, shutting the door behind me.
5
Kayan
“What the hell have you gotten yourself into, woman?” I ask myself, turning into my driveway and watching in my rearview mirror as Z pulls in behind me on his motorcycle.
It’s true—some of my normal attitude had shown itself when I’d first woken up in July’s living room, and in my fog, I’d forgotten for a split second just who I was dealing with. But the moment that man got in my face and said he’d be staying with me, my mind was bombarded with images of his big body filling up my space. Which led to thoughts of his big body filling me up.
I flash back to the night I met him, when he and Wes caught us at Momma’s Country after we followed the guy who was leaving the dogs at the clinic.
“What?” I mumble as July wakes me up, where I’m in the car seat next to her. I wipe the doughnut frosting from my face. Half the fun of a stakeout is the snacks, after all.
“They’re here,” she hisses, and my head comes up, my eyes wide.
“Oh shit,” I whisper, pulling the camera off the dash.
July pulls out her phone and calls Mark, one of the vets who’s been working at our clinic over the last few months. She tells him he needs to get to the office and take care of the dog that was just dropped off, and to call the vet tech on call. We watch as the person drops the dog at the door of our clinic then gets back in their truck.
I can tell July wants to go to the poor animal, but knowing there will be someone coming to help him soon keeps her in place and focused on our task at hand. We need information, so we can do what we can to stop this from happening any longer. When the person pulls out, July keeps her headlights off before starting up the Jeep and following him out of the parking lot.
“I wonder where he’s going,” she says aloud as we head
out of town on one of the back roads.
“Don’t know,” I mumble, watching the truck in the distance, which pulls into a large parking lot packed with cars. It’s a Friday night, and this place is hoppin’.
July pulls in and parks a few spaces behind him then waits until the driver gets out before she opens the door of her Jeep, and I hurry to meet her at the back of the vehicle.
“Just so you know, I’m firing you on Monday,” she tells me, gesturing to our matching outfits I made her wear.
“You look smoking hot,” I whisper, but I’m totally as nervous as she clearly is.
With a shake of her head, we head into the building. The moment we walk through the door, my ears are assaulted by the twangy sound of country music, making me grimace. We follow the guy toward the bar, feeling every single person’s eyes in the place locked on July and me. Shit, if I were them, I’d totally be staring too. How often do you see two chicks dressed like cat-women walk into a country western bar?
“Your dad’s in back, bud,” the bartender tells the guy we followed from the clinic. He looks younger than us, maybe twenty-one, especially when he takes his hat off. He runs his hand over his hair then gets up from the stool he just occupied and starts walking toward the back of the bar.
We’re headed in that direction, when someone wraps their arm around July, and I barely hear him say, “Where you going, pretty girl?” over the loud music. My girl elbows the guy, making me proud, and she grabs my hand, pulling me in the direction the guy had now disappeared.
“You’re really getting fired,” she tells me, and I can’t help but grin before I run into her back where she’s halted in place. When I look up at her then follow her line of vision, I see who she’s spotted, and he definitely does not look happy to see us.
“Oh no,” I whisper, watching as Wes puts down his pool stick.
“Run,” July hisses.
“What?” My brow furrows as I look at her.
“I said run!” she cries, and we both turn and start toward the front of the bar. We get down the hall, when July’s hand is suddenly jerked out of mine.
“What the fuck are you wearing?” I hear Wes growl, and I know I’m totally fired.
“What are you doing here?” July asks, struggling in his hold.
“Z, watch her,” Wes says, and I see he’s talking to someone behind me. I turn around and stop in my tracks, eye-level with a ridiculously wide chest covered in a white tank and leather vest. My lips part as my eyes travel up… up… and up impossibly higher. And that’s when they land on the most terrifyingly gorgeous man I’ve ever seen in my twenty-six years on this earth.
He’s so freaking tall, with a shaved head, short beard, and tattoos that run from his thick neck, and down his arms that would give Thor a run for his money. His muscles look even more intimidating as he crosses his arms over his chest, looking down at me and my 5’2” frame. He’s more than a foot taller than me, but he makes me feel even smaller the way his eyes devour me in my catsuit. Dark chocolate eyes, almost black. Mine narrow, trying to place what his heritage might be. Hispanic? Maybe Persian? I can’t tell exactly, but he’s rocking a tan I’m completely jealous of.
“That’s not necessary. We were just leaving,” July inserts, but when I glance behind me, I see her disappear into the men’s restroom as Wes forces her inside.
When I look back up at the hulking man in front of me, I try to come up with something witty to say in order to get myself out of here faster, so I can just wait outside in July’s Jeep for her, but nothing comes out but a nervous giggle.
“What’s your name, little one?” His voice is so deep it vibrates straight down my spine and makes my knees practically knock together.
“K-Kayan,” I squeak out, and clear my throat, taking a step backward. Maybe putting some space between me and him will help me ditch this timid thing I’ve suddenly become.
“Kayan,” he purrs, as if tasting my name on his tongue. He smiles, and his teeth are startlingly white in his tan face. He takes a step forward as I take another one back, until I find myself between him and the wall next to the restroom. I find it hard to meet his eyes he’s so blatantly beautiful, so I stare at my shoes. He doesn’t say anything else, but seems to stand guard over me, blocking me from everyone’s view.
Moments later, Wes exits the men’s room, pulling July behind him, who looks suspiciously flushed.
“I remember you,” she tells Z, and my eyes dart between them. I’ll have to ask her later where she met him before.
“Let’s get the girls out of here, and then we’ll come back and finish up,” Wes states.
“Sure,” Z mutters, and he wraps a hand around my waist as I struggle out of his grasp.
Out in the parking lot, I’m hyperaware of his closeness. I can feel his eyes on me, and it’s both exhilarating and unnerving.
“You’re as shy as a kitten. Don’t think I’ve ever had shy in my bed,” Z growls, not bothering to lower his volume in front of our friends, and I feel my face flame viciously. I can’t even come up with a sassy retort as I take my place in the passenger seat of July’s Jeep. All I can do is stare into my lap, too shaken to my core to meet his gaze I feel burning into me. “Be good, kitten,” he rumbles, shutting my door.
“Straight home,” I hear Wes tell July.
“Straight home,” she repeats.
“We have some shit to work out, but I’ll get in there,” he tells her, before adding, “Be good.”
She nods and he slams her door. She starts up the Jeep and pulls out of the lot then looks over at me at a stop sign. When my eyes meet hers, I swallow hard then feel my face split into a grin.
“That was scary, but oh… my… God,” I breathe, making her giggle.
“No more stakeouts,” she tells me.
I snort and whisper, “No more stakeouts.”
A knock at my window makes me jump, pulling me from the memory. I look to my left and see his half-worried, handsome face.
“You gonna sleep in your car, kitten?” Z asks, and when I shake my head dumbly, he opens the door, holding his hand out to me.
The flashback was a reminder of how overwhelming his presence is. My feistiness from earlier leaves me, especially as we walk up to my front door and the memory of being grabbed inside my house overtakes all thoughts. I whimper on the first porch step, spinning around to run back to my car, but my face plants right into Z’s neck.
His arms immediately come around me, wrapping me up in a warm, safe, delicious-smelling cocoon.
“I’m here now, little one. Ain’t nothin’ bad going to happen while I’m with you. I can promise you that,” he murmurs at the side of my head, and I can’t help but relax in his embrace.
It’s like I’ve finally come home, which is funny, since we’re standing in front of my actual house that felt like anything but home only seconds before. “He…. I… I didn’t even see him coming, Z. He was already inside when I got here, and he grabbed me from behind.” I turn my face further into his skin and rest my head where his shoulder is still bandaged where I shot him.
“I know, baby. I doubt he came back tonight, but I’m going to go in first and check everything out, okay?”
I realize my fingers are gripping his leather vest when I feel my nails dig in deeper before letting go with a nod. With one last deep inhale of his intoxicating scent, I lift my head out of its nook and step to the side, allowing him to pass me up the stairs to my front door. I hand him my keys and watch him unlock the door before he steps inside.
My hands twist together as I wait for him on my porch, every sound making me jittery as I wait for either a fight to ring out into the late night air or for someone to come running out my front door in order to escape Z’s wrath. Because I have no doubt, from the look in his eyes when I was telling everyone what happened earlier, and from the conviction in his voice when he just promised me nothing would happen while he’s with me, Z would tear the intruder limb from limb with his capable bare h
ands.
6
Z
“All clear, kitten,” I tell her, reaching out the front door with my hand outstretched to where she huddles by the porch steps. She takes a look at my open palm as if it’s a snake that might bite her, but then relaxes and puts her tiny hand in mine. Pulling her into her living room, it’s then I realize her dog never once barked at me while I was checking around her house.
She must notice too, because she immediately bends at the waist to check inside his crate. “Bonjour, LeFou. How’s my baby?”
The little dog immediately unburies himself from all his blankets, giving a rough shake before trembling with excitement. She unlatches the door and picks him up, allowing him to lick beneath her chin as she giggles. Glancing up at me, she must see the strange look on my face, because she asks, “What?”
“You just greeted your Chihuahua in French.” I raise a brow.
“So?” She pops a hip, trying to look sassy as she holds the little creature, its bug eyes seeming to bulge even more as his licking gets more aggressive.
“A Chihuahua who you named LeFou,” I point out.
“Yeaaah?” she drawls.
“Aren’t Chihuahuas supposed to be Mexican?” I prompt.
She gives a shrug, making a move for the sliding glass back door so she can let him out to do his business. “Maybe, but LeFou was like… one of the most loyal sidekicks in the history of ever. In his eyes, Gaston could do no wrong. And I needed a little companion who thought of me that way.”
“Didn’t LeFou end up switching sides at the very end of the movie?” I knew this would draw a smile out of her.
“I didn’t take you for a Disney guru, Z. I’m impressed,” she says with a grin. “And yes, you’re right. But Gaston totally deserved it. I’d like to think I’d never be so villainous that my LeFou would ever need to turn on me.”