Especially in times like this.
It’s taken an hour to get back to the firehouse by the time I’m positive no one is following us. I do a few passes around the block to be sure they didn’t just beat me here, but the street is empty except for Crow and Preacher’s cars, one parked in front, and one parked in back. The only light inside comes from the soft glow of the wax warmers Felicity has scattered through the space. I decide to park Carly’s car in the garage bay next to my truck. I would feel like a dick if her car got messed up because of all this.
I wait for the overhead door to close, before opening my door and finally glancing her way.
She’s asleep.
If you’d told me the day I met her that Pinky would end up being a stalker who could fall asleep during a possible car chase, I would have laughed in your face.
I go to her side of the car and open the door, leaning down to wake her up for the second time tonight. “Carly.”
I wait.
She doesn’t move.
“Pinky.”
Nothing.
I gently grab her shoulder and shake. “Carly honey, you’ve got to wake up.”
Her head rolls my way and her eyes slowly lift, closing a few times before finally staying open to sleepily focus on me. “I fell asleep again.”
“Yeah you did.” I can’t help but smile. “I think danger makes you tired.”
She yawns, slowly straightening in the seat. “I don’t usually fall asleep so easily.” Carly starts to get out but the seatbelt still strapped around her body clotheslines her. She yelps as her body drops backward.
I reach in and undo the buckle. “Come on, Pinky. Let’s get you to bed before you hurt yourself.”
“I don’t even care.” She lets me pull her up and out.
“I know.” I lead her into the house and down the hall to my bedroom. It’s the only vacant furnished one in the house besides the room where Gypsy and Felicity sleep, and that’s their private space.
My covers are still messed up from earlier, so it’s easy to set her down on the bed. “I’ll go get your bags.”
“Okay.” Carly still looks a little dazed, so I hurry so I can get back to her before she passes out in that ugly black shirt again. The thing can’t be comfortable.
Carly is still sitting where I left her when I come back. “Here.” I set her bags down beside her. I thumb over my shoulder. “The bathroom’s just across the hall. There are a couple other guys here, but they will probably avoid you like hell.”
Her brows come together as she starts to dig into her bag. “Why would they avoid me?”
“If a woman comes out of a man’s room, most people assume one thing, Pinky.”
Her eyes jump to mine. “Oh.” Carly’s head drops and her gaze falls, but not before I catch the pink of her cheeks.
Carly’s thought of me like that. I’ve seen it in her eyes. The way she looks at me.
But that’s all it will ever be. A thought. A fantasy. Because there’s not a doubt in my mind she’s nowhere near capable of handling the real thing.
Because I’m done with the fake bullshit. The superficial fucking I’ve experienced.
Unfortunately, it’s become clear that the real me is a pretty significant turn-off for women.
“Shoot.” Her search through the bag she brought gets more frantic.
“What’s wrong?” I back up a little more, trying to work my way out the door. Seeing her in my bed again bothers me. Like an itch you can’t quite reach.
It makes me jumpy and irritated.
Carly’s shoulders slump. “I know I pulled them out.”
“What? For Christ’s sake, what’s the problem?” I need her to spit it out so I can fix it and then get the hell away from her.
“It’s fine. I don’t need them.” She gives me a tight smile. “It’s fine.”
“What did you forget?” Crow wears contacts, so if she needs something that goes with them then—
“I just forgot to put my pajamas in the bag. I’ll be fine though.”
I let out the air threatening to stall in my lungs. “You can’t wear that shirt to bed, Pinky.” I glare at the black, shapeless top. The fabric is rough and heavy. No way could it be com—
“I won’t.” She stands from the bed, her smaller bag in one hand. “Did you say the bathroom is across the hall?”
I can’t answer her. Can’t make words come out of my mouth.
She can’t sleep naked in my bed.
I march to the dresser and yank open a drawer, pulling out the first thing I see and throwing it at her before turning to leave.
“Thank you, —” She pauses, and damned if I can walk away until I hear the rest. “What’s your real name?”
No one calls any of us by our real names except for Jill and—
I clear my throat, choking on the desire to tell Carly what she wants to know.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. I understand.”
She doesn’t. Not even a little bit.
“Levi.” I snap it out, pulling the door shut before she can say anything more.
Before I can dig myself deeper.
****
“WHAT’S ALL THIS?” Carly stands at the wide doorway to the kitchen, eyes resting on the stove.
“Breakfast.” I turn with the pan of eggs. “I’m guessing you skipped dinner.”
Not that anything she’d eaten would have been worth half a shit. The cabinets in her house were full of the kinds of food college kids eat when they’re busy and broke.
I eye the line of her sweater. She’s wearing another one of those button-ups like from the first day we met, only this one is pale blue.
And expensive looking.
Her apartment is nice. Her car is newer and in good condition.
Pinky’s not poor, and based on her dedication to tormenting me, I can’t imagine she’s dealing with a completely packed schedule.
“I ate at work.” She steps out of my way as I drop the eggs and a basket of biscuits off on the table. It’s my go-to breakfast. Biscuits and bacon remind me of a time when my life seemed like it would be very different than it ended up being.
“That makes me feel a little better.” I bring the tray of bacon over and pull out a chair, nodding my head to the seat. “We gotta keep moving, Pinky.”
She slowly lowers into the seat. “You didn’t have to do all this.” Carly’s eyes stay on the table instead of coming to me.
“I gotta eat anyway.” I sit down and scoop some eggs out to drop them on her plate.
“Thank you.” Carly pokes at the eggs with her fork.
“Something wrong, Pinky? Last time you ate my food you said it was the best.” I lean back to watch her across the table. “Or were you just trying to butter me up so I’d tell you what you wanted to know?”
“I just feel bad that you had to sleep...” Her eyes drag to the sofa where I spent the night.
“I’ve slept worse places, Pinky.” I shove in a pile of eggs, trying to keep my mouth busy.
I don’t like telling people about my life. I don’t like being pitied.
“Me too.” She offers me a weak smile as she finally takes a bite of the eggs I gave her.
At least one of us can stomach them, because I think I just lost my appetite.
“Like where?” I tap my fingers against the table, trying to keep the strange upset crawling along my skin from taking over.
Carly lifts one shoulder and lets it drop. “I didn’t have a bed until I was almost ten I think?”
“What did you sleep on?” I can’t make the question sound even remotely casual.
She barely chews the side of her lower lip for a second. “My mom and I shared a foam pad.”
The anger I struggle to control races through my body, leaving the burn of a rage I’ve carried since I was a kid.
If I hadn’t already wanted to kill King, this would have sealed it.
Especially if Carly is who I think she might be.<
br />
It’s why she’s here. Why she’s in a house with three men willing to do terrible things to keep her safe.
Carly doesn’t offer any more as she finally focuses on her breakfast, cleaning her plate in just a few silent minutes.
Silent minutes that I spend stewing.
By the time we’re finishing up, Crow makes his way in, hair a mess from sleep, his pajama pants hanging low on his hips. He points one finger at Carly. “You must be our new guest.” He reaches out to take her hand. “I’m Niko.”
Carly gives him a small smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Carly.”
Crow holds her hand longer than he needs to, probably just to piss me off.
And it doesn’t take long. “We have to go.” I stare him down as I say it.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Carly. I’ll see you tonight.” He gives her a wink.
Crow’s getting his feet under him, and it’s turning out to be a pain in my ass. The kid was a live wire, ready to throw fists at the drop of a hat when King’s empire crashed and burned.
Literally.
“Tonight?” Carly’s attention comes to me.
“Did you expect this to be a one and done sort of thing, Pinky?” I move in closer to her, trying to crowd Crow out. “Because that’s not how this goes. They won’t just forget you after a day, Carly. Those men will keep trying to get you until we stop them.”
“What?” Her skin goes a little pale. “Just because of what happened yesterday? I didn’t see anyone. I don’t even know what kind of car they were driving.”
“It’s not about that, Pinky.” I dare to ease a little closer, the soft smell of roses hanging in the air between us. “This is about them wanting to punish me.” I tip my head toward Crow. “Us.”
“Why do they want to punish you?” Carly’s eyes are finally on me the way I wanted earlier, and it satisfies something inside me I can’t identify.
“Because we took King down.” Crow is digging into the breakfast still on the table.
Carly’s head turns to him before spinning back to me. “Who’s King?”
“No one you need to worry about.” I wrap my arm around her and start walking before Crow can add any more unwanted information to the conversation. “Clean that shit up before you leave, dick.” He needs to know he was out of line today, telling Carly about King, but right now I don’t have time to deal with him.
I have to get Pinky to work. I wait while she collects her purse and smooths down her hair in the bathroom.
“Ready?” I have work to do myself, and it doesn’t wait for anyone.
“Yup.” She stays right beside me as I go to the garage where her car is parked beside my truck. I open the passenger’s door on the cab of my pickup. She slides right in and buckles up.
After last night I don’t want to risk messing her car up, and my truck has significantly more power than her little sedan, so if we have a repeat, my life will be easier.
“Where are we going?” I back out of the garage.
“Elm Grove in Oakville.” She pulls out her phone and after a few punches of her finger, the digital voice starts giving me directions.
Twenty minutes later I’m pulling into a huge community. It looks like apartments, but the large covered entryway almost resembles a hotel. I squint at the sign out front.
Elm Grove Retirement Village
“You work at a nursing home?” I focus on the outfit I thought made her look like a preschool teacher.
Carly’s lips press into a tight frown. “Yes. And I love it. So judge away.”
And then she shoves open the door and jumps out, leaving me to stare after her, wondering what in the hell just happened.
6
“WELL WHAT IN the hell is the matter with you?” Violet scowls at me from her chair.
“I had a bad night.” I go in and sit on the edge of the bed in her room.
“Well you're not walking funny so I’ll assume you didn’t end up getting caught.” Violet stabs at the remote with one bony finger, lowering the volume on her blaring television. “Too bad.”
“I did get caught.” I cross my arms. I’m irritated.
With her.
With him.
Violet’s painted-on brows lift. “Really.” She wiggles around to face my way. “Tell me more.”
“He knew I was following him, and snuck up and yanked me out of my car.”
“And then what happened?” Violet scoots forward in her chair.
“Then someone shot at his house.” I drop my head back to stare at the ceiling. “And I had a sit in.”
My mother would die if she knew what I did.
If she wasn’t already dead that is.
“Who in the hell shot at his house?” Violet’s eyes are wide when I finally turn my attention back to her. “You could have gotten hurt.”
Yeah. Well.
My concerns about things like that are few and far between.
“They didn’t even hit the house.” I shake my head a little, like it’s the most normal thing in the world for me to be discussing drive-by shootings and stalking. “Levi said they were just trying to prove a point.”
“Some point.” Violet leans back in her seat. “Did he at least tell you about that piece of shit Herbert?”
“Of course not.” I can’t even get Levi to give me a hint about how he knows Herbert Wallace. “He says I should drop it.”
“He’s probably right.” Violet eyes me. “But I know you well enough to recognize that won’t happen.”
“I owe it to her.” It’s what’s driven me to do the things I’ve done. “I want to know the truth.”
“Those are two different things, Sugarbear.” Violet’s voice is soft. “Your momma wouldn’t give a shit about what you owe her.” The woman who took me under her wing my first day here gives me a sad smile. “It’s okay for you to just need to know the truth.”
Wanting something for myself hasn’t been on my list of things to consider in years. Not since my mom got sick and my already limited world came to consist of only her.
“Maybe you should just tell him.”
“I should just tell Herbert?”
“Hell no. I’m pretty sure you shouldn’t try to go near that man.” Violet points my way. “You should tell Levi. Let him know what you suspect. Maybe if he knows you aren’t trying to get a hold of Herbert he’ll tell you what you want to know.”
That would be a great plan.
If it was true.
But it’s not.
“Maybe.” I stand. “I need to go get set up. “I eye her outfit. “I’ll see you there?”
“You know damn well you’ll see me there.” Violet straightens the zippered front of her track suit. “I gotta keep my figure.”
“I’ve got another aerobics instructor lined up to come in on Thursdays too.” Finding someone trained in geriatric exercise isn’t a simple task, especially when the audience is as discriminating as this one.
Violet perks up. “Do you have a picture?”
“This one is a woman.” I lift one finger as she starts to argue. “And she is very sweet and extremely excited to come here, so you and your pack better be on your best behavior.”
Violet slumps down. “Fine.”
“I will see you soon.” I pull her door closed as I leave and make my way down the main hall in the assisted living wing of Elm Grove. It’s a huge complex, featuring everything from single homes, to full care for memory loss residents.
I stop at my office to answer a few emails and schedule a couple activities. Next week I have a group of first graders coming in to read to the residents on Monday. Tuesday is the weekly visit from the humane society, along with chair aerobics. Wednesday is Kona Ice day, and a movie night. Thursday is our new aerobics instructor’s first class, and Friday is a painting class.
“Carly?” Josie, Elm Grove’s administrator, peeks into my office. “How’s it going?”
I’ve been here for six months and in that time I
’ve filled the activities room daily with anything and everything I can think of, and I’m lucky enough to have a boss who appreciates my hard work. “Good. I think I have the Thursday aerobics slot filled.” I give her a grin. “As long as I can keep the girls in line.”
Josie’s bright blue eyes fall to the chair on the other side of my desk. “May I?”
“Of course.” I grab one of the bottles of water from under my desk and hold it out to her, lifting my brows in question.
“Thanks.” She takes it from me, cracking off the lid and taking a long swig before setting it on the desk between us. “I am really impressed with your work, and I hope you realize what a difference you’ve made for our residents.”
“I just don’t want them to be bored.” I fidget with the large desk calendar under my hands. “I like for them to have something to look forward to.”
“They do.” Josie settles into her seat. “We do occasional surveys, and do you know how much resident satisfaction has increased since you arrived?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Fifty percent.” Josie smiles at me. “I have residents stop me every day and tell me something you’ve done that’s helpful. They adore you.”
I blink a few times, trying to clear the unexpected emotion threatening to cloud my vision. “Well. I adore them.”
“I know. I can tell.” Josie glances at the clock. “I know you have a class to get to, but I wanted to stop in and let you know what a wonderful job you are doing.” She stands and goes to leave, but pauses just inside my door. “And I was able to get approval for a raise for you.”
“Oh. Thank you. Very much.” I wasn’t expecting something like that so soon, and the fact that she went to bat for me already makes my belly warm in a way I’m not used to.
“You deserve it.” She backs into the hall. “Who’s teaching the class today?”
“Tom.”
“You need help for crowd control?” Josie glances up and smiles as a group of women hobble past.
“Looks like I might.” I stand and follow her to the main activities room where Tom is setting up.
The women are already flocking, claiming the chairs at the outer edges of the half circle he’s set them into.
Cook's Choice: A Bad Boy Protector Romance (Lost Boys Book 4) Page 5