by Apryl Baker
He pulled out his phone and found the number for the pizza place. “Typically, you get two police officers who will go wherever you go.”
“So, no one’s trying to keep me locked up in the Ivory Tower?”
“No, Angel, no one’s holding you prisoner. I would prefer you stay away from the bar until we catch the guy, though. It’s a risk every time you go outside this place.”
“I have to work, Kincaid. I have bills to pay.”
He put up a finger while he placed the order for pizza. He laid the phone down on the counter before answering her. “That’s what I thought you’d say. When I can’t be here, you’ll have two plainclothes on you at all times.”
“You don’t have to be here at all. In fact, I’d prefer it if you weren’t.”
He worked to rein in his temper. She had been through a very horrifying experience and needed patience, not a full-blown fight with him. “We’ve already had this conversation. You’re not getting rid of me. Deal with it.”
Angel narrowed her eyes and fought the urge to do him bodily harm. Kade had always been bossy, but now that he was older and used to having more authority, he’d gotten worse.
“About earlier…” He cleared his throat, looking anywhere but at her. “I’m sorry. I had no right to do that.”
“No, you didn’t.” Her voice came out small and quiet. He didn’t need to know every nerve in her body sang when his skin had met hers.
“It was that damn closet.”
Another smile slipped out despite her best efforts. It was so rare to see him this out of sorts. And over sex.
“Just don’t do it again, okay? Neither of us wants to be here, so if we can keep it professional, I’d appreciate it.”
“I can do that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You said you had finals next week?”
“Yeah?”
“What did you end up studying?”
She took another sip of coffee, debating whether getting into an actual conversation with him was wise. Rage still curled in the pit of her stomach, but another part of her struggled to break free of its prison. She craved his attention. It couldn’t hurt to have a civil conversation with him, could it?
“I studied business management. I graduate this May.”
“Business?” He fiddled with his coffee mug.
“I want to own my own bar.”
“Not a strip club?”
Her eyes narrowed at his tone. He’d never made any secret that he hated her stripping. He didn’t respect anyone who did. It was the biggest bone of contention between them.
“You know, Kincaid, I was thinking of a bar with strippers.”
“You’re better than that, Angel.”
“There’s nothing wrong with stripping. It pays better than any other job I’ve ever had, including bartending. What is your problem with it?”
“I have a problem because I hate that you let total strangers play grab ass with you for money?”
Angel closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Conversation was a bad idea. “I was a stripper, Kade, and I’m proud to say that. It fed me, it clothed me, it paid for my brother’s funeral, and it gave me the money to get the hell out of Miami. Don’t try to make me feel bad about it, because you can’t.”
“It paid for Peter’s funeral? Didn’t he have life insurance?”
She shook her head. “No, I doubt it was something he even thought about at his age.”
“Did you sell the house? Surely that paid for…”
She shook her head again. “No. The state seized everything he owned. I had nothing but the money in my personal bank account.”
His face went white, and a small corner of her mind cheered. “Why didn’t you tell me? You could have called…”
“You walked out that night and didn’t look back. I got the distinct impression you never wanted to see me again. Why would I have gone looking for you even if I knew where to find you?”
“Because I cared, Angel, about you and Peter both, even if you don’t believe me.”
“You cared?” The bitterness boiled over and erupted in hysterical laughter. “You cared? You arrested your best friend, and then you left your wife alone and crying after the worst moment of her life. You cared? Don’t you dare tell me you cared.”
Faster than she could blink, he’d moved around the counter and hauled her up, only to wrap his arms around her. She fought hard to get away, her fists landing with brutal efficiency on his chest, his arms. She wanted to hit him, to beat him, to make him feel the way she’d felt every day since he’d walked away from her.
“Shh, moye serdtse.” His whispered words barely penetrated the enraged fog of her grief. “I am so sorry.”
“Don’t you think it’s a little late for that?” Sorry couldn’t erase the hurt, it couldn’t bring her brother back, it couldn’t do anything. Sorry was a worthless fucking word.
“Yes, Angel. It is too late, but I’m saying it anyway. I’m sorry. For everything.”
He held on and let her hit him, let her cry, let her rage. Once the tears started, they wouldn’t stop. She’d told him not to call her his heart, and he fucking did it anyway, damn him. Didn’t he realize how much it hurt her when he said that, knowing he didn’t mean it? The fight left her when her pain finally pushed through. Feeling his arms around her brought it to the front and she couldn’t push it down. It washed over her like a storm.
“That’s it, baby, just let it all go.” His hand swirled in soothing circles on her back. He held her for the longest time, and then moved her to the living room, easing her down on the couch. She watched him as he went to the kitchen and wet a paper towel he then used to clean up her face.
His phone blared at him and he picked it up. “Kincaid…yes, thank you. I’ll be right down.” He ended the call and shoved the phone in his pocket. “Pizza’s here. I’m going to go get it. Will you be okay?”
She nodded, a hiccup escaping. He gave her a cautious smile and let himself out of the apartment. She curled up on the couch, her knees tucked under her chin. Exhausted. Embarrassed. Her mom once told her sometimes the only person who could fix a terrible hurt was the one who caused it. She did feel better after he let her whale on him, and the crying had cleared some of the fog of rage surrounding her.
Not that she wasn’t still angry with him. A good cry wouldn’t fix that. But at least she could breathe without wanting to scream. That had its own drawback, though. Some of the fear she’d been repressing all night slithered its way into her subconscious.
She’d faced down a serial killer.
And lived.
What the hell had she gotten herself into now?
Angel rubbed her eyes, trying to dispel some of the weariness. Sitting here feeling sorry for herself was accomplishing nothing. She got up and wandered into the kitchen, snagging her mug so she could rinse it out then load it into the dishwasher.
Nikoli had a very swanky place. She’d never thought the boy could afford something like this. All she really knew about him was that he was Kade’s little brother who sometimes wandered drunk into her bar when he needed to talk. Sure, he tipped her well, but she put that down to him having a decent job or maybe his folks sending him money while he was in school. She never would have thought he owned his own business.
Small, painful tingles raced up her back as she leaned down and opened the dishwasher. She was starting to feel the effects of a long night on her feet. If she didn’t get some sleep soon, working an eight hour shift at the bar tomorrow was going to be hell. One thing bartenders and servers alike learned early on was to take care of your feet and your back.
Angel heard the key in the lock and looked up to see Kade come in, three large pizza boxes balanced precariously in one hand. Alarm spread across his face when he saw she wasn’t on the couch where he’d left her.
“Angel?” He kicked off his shoes and glanced toward the stairs first.
She turned toward the cupboards and started looking for plates. She wa
sn’t ready to talk quite yet. Exactly four plates sat alone in the cupboard. Kade hadn’t been joking when he said they’d cleaned the place out. Taking out two of the heavy white plates, she turned back to Kade, who had found his way to the kitchen.
“Are you okay?” His concern was etched in his face.
She nodded and put the plates on the island. How many more times was he going to ask her if she was okay tonight, and how many more times would she lie and say she was?
He held up a two liter of Mountain Dew. “They didn’t have any Coke, so I got the next sugariest thing. Are there any glasses?”
Kade watched her as she hunted through the cupboards. Her silence worried him. Shock was a concern. He hoped getting some food in her would help. He opened the top box and loaded both their plates with pizza. Spicy Italian sausage and pepperoni. Her favorite.
She came back and sat down, glasses in tow. She picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite, her movements stiff and wooden. Her pale skin was blotchy and red from crying, and her eyes were wide and shell-shocked. The depth of pain in them hit him at his core. He’d put that pain there.
“I was thinking, Angel. I know this is a tough situation, but I thought maybe we could call a truce and be civil with each other? I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m just asking for us to try not to fight about everything. My job is to keep you safe, and that’s easier if we’re not screaming at each other every five minutes.”
“You’re not going to leave, no matter how many times I ask, are you?”
“No, I’m not. Your safety comes first. Be as mad at me as you want, but I won’t leave.”
“I guess I can try to be civil. I won’t promise, Kade, but I will try.”
He let out the breath he’d been holding. He’d expected a fight from her, but was glad she’d agreed. It might only be because she was tired, but he’d take it.
Maybe after a good night’s sleep, they could start over in the morning.
Maybe.
Chapter Eight
Angel’s head lay on the rim of the toilet, her stomach heaving. She thought she’d escaped the stomach bug going around at work, but no. She sat there, exhausted and miserable, puking for all she was worth. The smell wafted up and caused her stomach to roll again. She turned just enough so she could vomit. Dear God, whoever gave this to her was going to suffer.
“Angel, I got you some Gatorade!” Peter’s voice drifted toward her from the other side of the door. She groaned in response. Liquid of any kind wasn’t a good idea right now. Her stomach churned and echoed its agreement.
A quiet murmur of voices outside the door made her sit up, panicked. No, it couldn’t be. Kade couldn’t be here, couldn’t see her like this. They’d only been going out for three months. Hell, they could have been going out for three years and she wouldn’t want him to see her in the mess she currently was in.
The slow turn of the doorknob sent her spiraling into all sorts of embarrassment and shame. Why would Peter let him in here? Why?
She heard the flush of the toilet then the sink turned on. He was on his knees beside her, pulling her hair back. His black eyes blazed with sympathy. He wiped her face gently.
“You okay, babe?”
Angel looked down into the now clean toilet, mortified, very aware of the heat racing up her neck and bursting into a full out blush on her cheeks. She wanted to crawl under a rock and die. Peter was a dead man as soon as she felt well enough to stand.
“Peter asked me to come sit with you.” Kade swiped her brow again with the cool cloth. “He had to go to work and didn’t want you alone. You should have called me and told me you were sick.”
The censure in his tone made her blush harder. He was mad because she didn’t tell him she was puking her guts out? Um, no. That would never happen. Ever.
Bile rose in her throat and she tried to sit up before it spewed out. She barely made it. Kade made some kind of clucking noise like her mom used to when she was sick while he held her hair back and rubbed soothing circles along her back.
“Easy, baby. Try to breathe.”
She gagged and the dry heaves started. Kade just held her head while her insides wrung themselves out. When she was done, her head sank back down on the rim. Kade flushed again and rewet the washcloth. They did this dance for over an hour while her stomach tortured her.
“I’ll be right back.”
She was too exhausted to even lift her head when he got up and started moving around in her room. She had no energy to worry about what she had laying around in there. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen her underwear before.
He came back with clean clothes, a pillow, and a blanket. He sat those on the sink and turned the shower on. “Come on, baby, let’s get you cleaned up.”
She lay there while he undressed her then picked her up and got into the shower with her so he could bathe her and wash out her hair which reeked of vomit. The whole time, he kept saying soothing things to her in Russian, his movements gentle. Once her hair was deemed clean, he got out and toweled her off before wrapping her in a big bath towel.
“I’ll be right back. I need to change.”
She lifted her eyes and watched him as he left the bathroom. He’d gotten into the shower with her without even worrying about his own clothes. What kind of man did that? None that she knew. They’d all be grossed out and not come near her. She’d get a text or something with a feel better message. Even her friends wouldn’t have done all this.
When Kade walked back in, he wore a t-shirt and some sweat pants of her brother’s, carrying the Gatorade Peter had gotten her. He set it to the side, and without a word, he went to work drying her hair. Halfway through it, her stomach rolled and she dived for the toilet. Thankfully, it was only dry heaves.
Kade rubbed her back the entire time. She’d fallen against him, exhausted, her eyes dropping. He’d whispered something to her then moved her to the bathroom rug, put the pillow down, and helped her lie down. He threw the simple throw over her legs and then lay down with her. He’d spent all night on the bathroom floor, taking care of her.
It was one of her best memories of her time with him.
Angel turned over in the bed, staring at the ceiling. He’d always been so gentle with her, like she was a baby bird he was terrified of breaking. Not that they hadn’t fought. They’d fought a lot. He was as stubborn as she was, maybe even more so. He despised her job and made sure she knew how he felt. She’d quit the club once they were married just to make him stop nagging her. Not that she’d have been able to work that much longer anyway. Men didn’t come in to see pregnant strippers.
Unable to sleep, she found the remote to the TV and flipped on the news channel. The top story was the Boston serial killer. The drawing the sketch artist made was in the upper left hand corner as the anchor talked. She studied the image. His eyes had interrupted her dreams most of the night, making her sleep fitful. She glanced toward the clock and saw it was already after noon. There were still several hours before she had to be at work, but sleep laughed at her.
Nothing to do but get up. She took care of her business in the bathroom and brushed her teeth before heading downstairs. Kade was nowhere to be seen. Maybe he’d gone to work? She expected to feel relieved, but honestly, she wasn’t. Fear had niggled its way into the back of her mind, and at least with Kade here, she knew she was safe. Being alone in Nikoli’s massive apartment wasn’t doing anything for her nerves. She felt out of place and didn’t want to snoop. Well, she did, but she wouldn’t.
The kitchen yielded cold pizza and a bottle of water from the fridge. It would have to do. Collecting two pieces, she popped them in the microwave and took a good look around. The place was bigger than she’d first remembered. The wall of windows showcased the still falling snow. It had been a pretty harsh winter this year, more snow than she’d seen in all the years she’d lived here.
Usually, when she looked at the city, all covered in snow and sparkling like a winter wonderland, it brought her
a little joy. She loved the winter and the snow, but not today. All she could see was him, hiding, waiting to grab her. She hugged herself, another wave of uncontrollable fear sweeping over her. This guy had been kidnapping women for months, and no one, not the police, not the FBI, could find him. He was a ghost.
Who apparently had his sights set on her. Why hadn’t she gone back inside with Jessie? None of this would be happening right now and she would be home safe and secure in her cozy apartment. Curled up in front of her fireplace, the Christmas tree twinkling, while she sipped hot cocoa spiked with a little something. Not here in this modern, sterile apartment that offered her no warmth, no comfort, and no sense of safety.
Well, that wasn’t exactly true. When Kade was here, she felt safe. He might be a bastard, but he promised to protect her, and she trusted that. She shouldn’t, but she did.
The microwave beeped at her, and she jumped. Dammit. This was not good. She had to get her nerves under control before tonight or she’d end up breaking every glass she touched. Bars were loud, and if she couldn’t stop jumping out of her skin at every little noise, tonight would be the death of her.
Her laptop peeked out of her messenger bag. Maybe she could do some studying while she waited until it was time to start getting ready for her shift. At least doing something as mundane as schoolwork might settle her down a bit. She took her pizza and the water over to Nikoli’s fancy couch and plopped down. Should she even be eating pizza on his all white couch? What if she stained it?
The key turned in the lock, and she went still, unbridled fear taking over. Her breath stopped, and she stared while the door was thrown open and someone entered, laughing and carrying grocery bags. Her entire body relaxed when she recognized Lily, followed closely by Nikoli.
“Angel!” Nikoli dropped his bags and started toward her, only to pause. “You okay? You’re white as a sheet.”
“I’m fine.” She took a deep breath and let it out. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone, and…”
“And you were scared.” Lily set her own bags down. “Of course you were scared. We should have called up. I didn’t think.”