by Aly Martinez
Distance was my safest bet. Though, as tears fell from her eyes and dripped down her pink cheeks, and her arms folded over her chest as though she were trying to ward off a chill, distance felt like a cruel and unusual punishment to my soul.
This woman… Jesus. She didn’t just fuck with my head. She fucked with my entire being.
It hadn’t been twenty-four hours and I was crumbling at her feet all over again. It had been nothing more than wishful thinking from a delusional man when I’d told Leo that I was going to wash my hands of her. The truth was, if something happened to her…
A vise tightened in my chest.
Something had happened to her. Something that could have killed her.
That was on Kurt.
But this. Now that I was involved… If anything happened to her, that would be on me. And, no matter how deeply I’d convinced myself that I hated Mira York, the love I’d once held for her ran deeper.
“Please, Jeremy,” she whispered.
God, I hated it when she called me Jeremy. I’d heard my name no less than a million times since she’d been gone from my life. But there was no substitute for the way she said it. That one word tumbling from her lips was enough to set me on fire with anger. And then, two sentences later, it was enough to bring me to my knees.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Mira…” I trailed off, unsure what else I could say to convince her. I couldn’t exactly hold her hostage. “You seriously want to go home that bad?”
She cut her gaze down, her chin quivering as she stared at the floor. “Yeah. I do.”
I groaned, that vise in my chest wrenching even tighter. “Fine. You can go home tomorrow, after I get someone out to your apartment to set up surveillance. I’ll put you up in a hotel tonight. My credit card. My name.”
“No,” she replied just as I’d expected.
She was so fucking stubborn.
“No arguing,” I growled.
She opened her mouth, probably to throw another snit fit, but I was done listening.
“This is not up for discussion, Mira.”
She clamped her mouth shut, and as if right on cue, her tear-filled eyes narrowed to slits. I nearly laughed. I knew that look well. And it further proved my theory that some things never changed.
“You don’t have to be a dick,” she snapped.
“And you don’t have to argue with every goddamn thing I say. Protecting people is what I do for a living. And, as a professional, I’m telling you I don’t like this. I think it’s stupid and irresponsible. But I can’t stop you if that’s what you want.” I stabbed a finger in her direction. “I put my ass on the line for you today. So, if I can’t convince you to come back to my place, where you’ll be safe and we can both get some fucking rest, then you are going to play it my way. Tonight, you’re going to a hotel. Tomorrow, you can go home.”
She crossed her arms over her chest in an adorable and ridiculous display of attitude. “Can I pay you back?”
“For what?” I asked, exasperation making my tone rougher than I had planned.
She squared her shoulders and straightened her spine. “The hotel. The surveillance. Your time. All of it.”
“Jesus.” I rolled my eyes. Based on the shithole she’d been living in when I’d shown up that morning, she couldn’t afford any of those things. But, if it would have gotten her to stop bickering with me any quicker, I’d have agreed to let her pay my fucking mortgage. “Sure. Whatever.”
She nodded, keeping her chin high as she replied, “Okay. Then yes. I would very much appreciate you taking me to a hotel tonight.”
I stared at her, incredulous.
She stared back at me, defiant.
One hundred percent classic Mira York.
It pissed me off almost as much as it turned me on.
Before I could acknowledge any of those feelings, I turned on a toe and marched out the door.
Not slowing, I made my way down the hall, her footsteps trailing behind me.
Rhion jumped to her feet when we made it to her living room. “Everything okay?”
“Fucking perfect,” I smarted, going straight to the door.
“It’s great, sweetie,” Mira purred. “I really appreciate you letting me hang out here today. I’ll shoot you a text and we can get together for that drink we talked about.”
I silently decided that I didn’t care what I had to do to stop it—that drink was not happening. Mira was leaving. She was going to a hotel. She was going home. And exiting my life forever—again.
And, for some fucking reason, that pissed me off all over again. The idea of her disappearing felt like a sledgehammer to the gut.
Jude appeared at my side as the girls hugged and whispered their goodbyes. “You need anything?”
“Lobotomy and a gallon or two of tequila.”
He chuckled. “Fresh out, my man.”
“Of course you are. Given the way today has gone, I’m fully expecting prohibition to be reenacted tomorrow just to spite me.”
“I don’t know if that would be a bad thing.” He tipped his chin at Rhion. “Take it from me: Alcohol and kryptonite don’t mix.”
I shook my head, frustrated that my fucked-up feelings for Mira were so transparent. “Yeah,” I replied absently. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
When the women finally disengaged, I lifted my hand in a backward wave, and walked out the door with Mira trailing a safe distance behind me.
“Rhion says there’s a hotel nearby,” she said as we waited for the elevator to arrive.
“Yep.” I popped the P. “I’ll walk you over.” And then more than likely spend the night guarding the lobby. Fuck!
“Sounds good,” she whispered, nervously inspecting the ends of her hair.
I kept my head aimed straight ahead at the metal doors, all the while staring at her from the corner of my eye.
When the elevator arrived, I swept a hand out for her to enter first.
She moved to the back, while I damn near plastered myself to the number panel.
We rode down in silence.
She exited first, and I followed.
I held the door open for her as we left the building.
She offered me a courtesy smile and nod of thanks.
She carefully left several feet between us as we walked down the busy Chicago sidewalk, never so much as brushing against me as we sidestepped other people in groups. She’d occasionally steal a peek in my direction. I’d pretend not to notice and then returned the favor only when I was positive she wouldn’t catch me.
It was all perfectly natural…if you were a death row inmate on your way to execution.
A suffocating weight hung in the air between us, each step more awkward and uncomfortable than the last. I told myself that I was grateful. Distance, right? But, as those feet between us became greater and greater, the dread in my stomach amplified.
I reminded myself that going to a hotel was what she wanted. It was better this way.
Fuck. No, it wasn’t.
She was so desperate not to owe me anything that she was putting her own life at risk. And I was all but walking her to her grave.
I ground my teeth together and let out a groan. “Mira, wait—”
But that was all I got out. Out of nowhere, a man slammed into my side, his body colliding with my injured shoulder.
“Shit,” I rumbled as he bounced off me and fell to the ground.
“Watch where you’re going!” he yelled, pushing up onto his elbows.
“I was,” I snapped back, rubbing my shoulder.
And I had been.
Eyes straight ahead.
Lost in thought.
The world passing me in a blur.
Everything I never did when I was with a client.
But she wasn’t a client. She was…
“Mira!” I roared, spinning in a circle, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end, my gut rotting with unease, telling me that something was seriously wrong.
She wasn’t there.
Blood thundered in my ears as I scanned the busy sidewalk. I packed the panic down. It wouldn’t have done either of us any good. I needed to keep my head and look at this logically without my connection to her shading the clues.
That shading turned black the minute I located her only yards away—a man’s hand over her mouth, her arms flailing, her feet fighting for purchase on the sidewalk, an open car door waiting, her terror-filled eyes glued to mine and begging for help.
I felt every ounce of her fear as if she were carving into my soul with a dull knife.
A bomb detonated inside me, and raw fury I’d never experienced before shredded any ounce of humanity I possessed. I’d have set the city on fire and torn buildings to the ground before I’d ever let him escape with her. My heart slammed against my ribs and my vision tunneled as the crowded sidewalk disappeared. For those seconds in slow motion, all I could see were her frantic eyes and a dead man who was trying to take her from me.
The guy who had run into me lurched to his feet and attempted to grab me from behind, but it took exactly one swing of my arm to send him back down, his head giving a satisfying crack against the sidewalk.
All at once, my body exploded forward, every muscle straining to carry me faster.
Through it all, my gaze never left hers.
My resolve never faltered.
My rage never wavered.
My heart never slowed.
My lungs burned the closer he got to the car, but that pain only propelled me forward.
When I got close enough, she stopped fighting against him and reached for me, the tips of her fingers skimming mine. A blast of adrenaline and relief flooded my system when I caught her forearm. Her hand wrapped around my wrist, biting with the most euphoric pain I’d ever experienced. He dragged her off the curb and into the road, but my hand might as well have been fused to hers. Killing me wouldn’t have been enough to make me release her.
Using her arm as an anchor, I slingshotted myself forward, my hand reared back and aimed at his face. It felt like an out-of-body experience, watching my fist sail through the air and land hard against his eye, blood erupting from his brow and spattering on the side of her terrified face.
Dazed, he stumbled, T-boning his back against the car door. His arms loosened for only the briefest of seconds, and I pounced, yanking Mira from his arms.
She flew forward, crashing into my chest, and I protectively curled her into my side before landing another punch against his face when he tried to regain his hold on her.
And that’s when shots rang out from inside the car.
Mira’s scream was barely audible over the deafening blasts, but it cut me deeper than any bullet ever could. Hooking her around the waist, I took us both to the ground. I crashed on top of her, desperate to get every inch of her under me. Her body trembled so violently it made collecting her an impossible task.
Tires squealed as the car peeled off. And then the whole world fell blessedly silent.
“Oh, God. Oh, God,” Mira chanted.
I lifted my head and swept my gaze over the area for any lingering danger, but short of a few frightened pedestrians, it seemed clear. Turning my focus back to Mira, I witnessed her wide eyes fill with a magnitude of emotions.
“Are you hit?” I asked.
A piece of me died in the half of a second it took her to answer.
“I don’t think so.”
Pushing up to my knees, I patted her down and then flipped her over on the dirty road to check her back.
She didn’t object, not even as I rubbed her ass and thighs down. There was nothing sexual about that moment, though there was no denying that my heart was involved.
Satisfied that she was unharmed, I blew out a ragged breath and rolled her back over. “You’re okay,” I announced—just as much for myself as for her.
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she croaked, “Are you?”
I wasn’t. Not even close.
But not because I’d been hit.
Nodding, I reached down and cupped her face. Trailing my thumb back and forth across her cheek, I wiped away the drops of that asshole’s blood and whispered, “Yeah, baby. I’m good.”
“Oh, God,” she gasped. “Jeremy?” she asked on a broken cry even though she was looking right at me.
I attempted the insurmountable task of willing my heart to slow. “Yeah, Mir. It’s me.”
Her breath caught and her eyes filled with a fresh round of tears, but as if the ground had suddenly been electrified, she flew up off of it and into my arms. Her face collided with my chest, rocking me back, but I quickly recovered and pulled her into a deep embrace.
“Shhh,” I soothed into the top of her hair, tucking her face into my neck. I told myself the shake of my hands was because of the adrenaline.
It wasn’t.
Mira was safe in my arms. And, as terrifying as that was, it was more terrifying to imagine her not being there.
Fisting the back of my shirt, she wedged her chest so tightly against my front I had no choice but to stand up or fall over.
Sirens screamed in the background and Good Samaritans made their way over to us, asking questions and offering help, but Mira never let go or even acknowledged that the world outside of my arms existed.
And, in those minutes, her heart pounding in rhythm with my own, her breaths coming fast and heavy, her small body flush head to toe with mine, I wasn’t sure it existed, either.
Or if I ever wanted it to exist again.
“And you have no idea who Steve Browel is?” Detective Jones asked, propping his chin on a densely tattooed forearm.
“No!” I swore, sliding my gaze to Jeremy, who was standing in the corner of the room, his arms crossed over his chest, his face the picture of contempt.
But, for the first time all day, it wasn’t aimed at me.
“She already said she didn’t fucking know him,” he growled. “Ask a new goddamn question or let us leave.”
The detective leaned back in his chair. “I like you, Lark, been friends for a long time, but you say one more fucking word, I’ll cuff you myself.”
“Then fucking cuff me already, Caleb.” Jeremy kept his voice low, but he cocked his head to the side with attitude. “We’ve been sitting here for two hours, listening to you ask her the same questions over and over again.” He swung his arm to the door. “And, for an hour before that, we were standing on the street, listening to you ask ’em. She doesn’t know who he was. Maybe, instead of standing here, acting like she’s a damn criminal rather than a victim, you’ll get your ass down to the prison and ask Kurt Benton. Because I assure you: He knows who the fuck that was.”
Yeah…my Jeremy had shown up big time. Temper and all.
I bit my lip to suppress a smile and looked back at the detective.
His mouth was hanging open as he watched Jeremy in what could only be described as awe.
Leo chimed in from the other side of his desk, humor thick in his voice. “I told you so.”
Caleb shook his head and continued to stare at Jeremy, but his words were for Leo. “You were not wrong.”
“Fucking schoolgirls,” Jeremy grumbled.
I swept my gaze through each of them, silently questioning what they were talking about, but not a one of them offered me any enlightenment. This could have been because they were all involved in a broody bodyguard/boss/detective stare down and forgot that I was even in the room.
Clearing my throat, I broke the moment. “Listen, I’ve given you everything I have. I don’t know anyone named Steve. I don’t even know where he came from. I saw the guy bump into Jeremy and then a man grabbed me. It all happened so fast. I’m just glad someone thought to get the car’s tag number.” I peeked up at Jeremy to see that he had turned his death stare on the wall on the opposite side of the room, his jaw ticking to the point I feared for his teeth.
“Right,” Detective Jones replied. “Okay, well, I’ll be honest here
. We have no idea if this was related to what happened at your apartment this morning. We’ve been interrogating Tony all day and haven’t gotten anything out of him. But…I will say Jonah Sheehan has been on our radar for a while. He’s small time. So, this?” He shook his head. “This doesn’t feel like Jonah.”
My head snapped back. “What? Then who do you think it was?”
He must have heard the panic in my voice, because his handsome face softened. “I don’t know. We aren’t ruling anything or anyone out. I’m just saying you need to be extra careful, because if this was Jonah, he’s stepping up his game. After tonight, I’m going to recommend putting you into protective custody. It’s—”
“She’s coming home with me,” Jeremy declared.
I swung my head toward him. “Jeremy, I—”
“End of discussion,” he bit out, pinning me with a scary glower.
Jeesh. Not that I was going to argue. An attempted kidnapping and dodging bullets had definitely made me rethink my desire to be alone. And, while staying at Jeremy’s house wasn’t ideal for my heart, I figured that it was probably safest for the rest of the internal organs I needed to remain whole, and not filled with lead, in order to survive.
Flashing the detective a pair of wide eyes, I whispered, “I guess that’s settled.”
He shook his head and aimed more of his awe at Jeremy. “I guess it is.”
“Good,” Jeremy clipped, moving toward the door. “Now, can we fucking go?”
Caleb flicked his gaze to Leo—who, I’d like to note, was oddly grinning like a maniac—and shrugged. “Yeah. Sure. By all means.” He rose to his feet and walked over to Jeremy. “As a cop, I’m telling you to keep your eyes open and call us if you see anything, or anyone, suspicious.” He stepped closer and lowered his voice. “But, as your friend, I’m telling you, if you leave your house with her, I want you doing it armed for duty. Yeah?”
Jeremy stared back at him. His face was hard, but the most confusing flash of shame sifted through his features. “Way ahead of you.” He jerked his chin at me. “Mira, let’s go.”
Leo stood at the same time I did. “Have a good night, babe. Stay safe.”
I shot him a warm grin. “Thanks again.”