Josie narrowed her eyes, pointing at him. “You be faithful to her. A woman deserves that kind of commitment from her husband.”
Steve nodded. “Oh, I will. Or she’ll kick my ass.”
“Good.”
“You should meet her. I think the two of you would get along well.”
She doubted a meeting would be anything but awkward.
A knock on the open door interrupted them. Josie jumped, spinning, forgetting the door was wide open.
Hannah stood on the doorstep, dressed to kill in a pair of black leggings, leather black boots that conformed to her shapely legs, a snug black leather jacket and black gloves—a biker’s wet dream. And she totally rocked the look, including a white bandage on her forehead. Josie was slightly jealous. She’d never be able to pull off the smokin’ hot fashion. Yes, she could admit when another woman was incredibly attractive. Jason had to be driven crazy by the number of men that probably drooled over Hannah.
Hannah’s amazing sharp eyes were shooting daggers Steve’s direction.
“Hannah?”
Hannah’s head swung to Josie and a smile as bright as the sun and as devious as sin crossed her stunning features. “Josie, I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by and say hi.”
Josie blinked, surprised. She didn’t think she’d made that much of an impression on the woman.
“Can I come in?” Hannah raised a perfectly manicured brow.
Her etiquette skills were slipping. “Please. Hannah this is Steve. Steve, this is Hannah. One of Detective Rooney’s friend’s wife.”
Hannah stepped into the house, her mouth turning down. “Detective Rooney? Oh, shit. Did he fuck up? He did, didn’t he? Do I have to kick his ass? Because I totally will.”
Steve’s gaze bounced back and forth between them, his eyes wide and mouth agape while zeroing in on Hannah. “I thought Detective Rooney was just staying here to protect you? That’s what you said.”
“He was. That was all,” Josie said stiffly.
“Oh, yeah. He fucked up.” Hannah grinned. “I so get to put him on his back.”
Hannah was not making this easy on her.
Josie chuckled nervously. “No need, Hannah, I swear. It’s all right.”
Hannah turned to Steve, scrutinizing him up and down, like royalty peering down upon a peasant. “You’re still here?”
Steve blinked, flabbergasted. Hannah was blunt and did not seem to care.
Steve squared his shoulders. “I was invited in.”
Hannah scoffed. “So was I. Your point?”
“I’m not leaving unless Josie asks me to,” he said.
“I could make you leave.” Hannah’s voice went deceptively quiet.
Josie cleared her throat. What was Hannah’s issue with Steve? Her reaction toward him was odd, to say the least. “That’s okay, Hannah. Really. Steve helped me by searching the house when I came home.”
“How kind of him,” Hannah said dryly.
She strolled around the living room, as if she owned it. Josie admired Hannah’s moxie and sense of self.
Another knock on the open door had Josie jumping again. For goodness sake, why hadn’t she closed the damn door yet?
Harry stood on the threshold, his eyes dark, scanning the room and its occupants.
“Harry, what are you doing here?” Her brother hadn’t mentioned he’d be stopping by.
Hannah shoved her hands into her leather jacket. “Yes, do tell, Harry.”
Her brother tilted his head. “Do I know you?”
Hannah grinned like a Cheshire cat. “You will, I’m positive of it.”
Did Hannah naturally goad and cryptically speak? Did she always go for confrontation? Because Josie hadn’t gotten that impression from her the one time she’d met her. Maybe she’d just been on her best behavior in front of her husband and in-laws.
Harry brushed Hannah off as if she were beneath him. It was kind of rude, despite the fact Hannah seemed to want to throw down with everyone in the vicinity.
He stepped into the house.
“Where’s your personal security guard?” he asked, a bite to his tone.
“He’s not here,” she said bristling. What the hell was the matter with everyone this evening? “He helped get me through a few weeks. I’m good.”
It was bold-faced lie. Steve was unable to hide his disappointment in her words.
Harry's jaw clenched. “So you’re alone.”
Hannah huffed. “No.” She waved between her and Steve. “We’re here.”
Her brother cocked an arrogant brow. “As I said, you’re alone?”
“Cute.” Hannah rolled her eyes, unfazed.
Harry approached Josie, getting into her personal space, his face tight. Now that she saw him up close, his features held stress lines around his eyes. His cheeks were hollowed, his eyes sunken. “I need to speak with you alone.”
“Okay.”
“Actually.” Hannah held up a hand. “I was going to ask Josie if she’d like to go get something to eat. I’m sure you could tag along.”
“No,” Harry snapped, his face turning red. “I need to speak to my sister. Without prying ears.”
Steve inched toward the door. “I’ll talk to you later, Josie.”
He was gone before she could respond.
“Harry, quit being rude,” Josie said.
“I don’t have much time,” he growled. “I have a meeting in an hour and need to speak to you about something important.” He rubbed his hand up and down his arm, as if trying to calm anger that stirred him to shake.
“Hannah, do you mind if we do dinner on another day?”
Hannah didn’t even look at Josie as she responded. Her pointed gaze was zeroed in on Harry. “I actually do mind.”
Harry spun quickly on Hannah, his hands flying up to her shoulders and slamming her against the nearest wall.
“Harry!” Josie screamed.
“She said she didn’t want to see you this evening.” Harry’s right hand came up under Hannah’s jaw, lifting her head in a one-handed choke hold. He stood a foot taller than Hannah, towering her small stature. Josie rushed him, trying to pry his immovable arm off Hannah, who wasn't frightened in the least, smiling wickedly, as if Harry had given her exactly what she wanted.
And it all ended quicker than Josie could blink. One second her brother had Hannah pinned against the wall. The next, Hannah had kneed him in the groin, and taken advantage of his release by tossing a solid punch in the side of his skull, knocking him out cold, Harry’s limp body falling to the floor in a thudded heap.
“Oh my god!” Josie dropped down next to her unconscious brother. “Hannah!”
She was on her phone. “Jason, I totally kicked Harry’s ass!”
***
“I swear to god, Hannah Campbell, if you ever put yourself in the line of fire again while pregnant with my child, I will lock you up.” Jason hovered over his wife, furious.
“Was I just supposed to let him choke me?” Hannah asked sweetly.
Jason’s mouth popped open and then closed. Open and closed. He stormed past Josie, mumbling something about wives and handcuffs.
“That’s what I thought,” Hannah called after him.
“I wasn’t choking her,” Josie’s brother said defensively, ice on his head.
Jason shot him a murderous glare.
Josie sat stunned. Not only by her brother’s violence but also by Hannah’s ability to put him on his ass in an instant. Jason loomed over his wife, who spoke animatedly with Nick. Her eyes wide with excitement. What an unusual woman. Josie had been a bit shaken by her brother’s unexpected forcefulness. But not Hannah. Her brother’s actions seemed to spark some sort of fire within the woman.
Josie’s gaze swung to her brother, who sat next to Detective Hayes. Harry kept running his hand down his face or through his hair, pulling on the roots, as if frustrated. A couple times he started to lose his temper, catching himself. Each time stating all he wanted t
o do was speak with his sister.
“What is so important that you wanted everyone to leave the house and you thought it was all right to put your hands on a woman?” Jordan asked, writing calmly on a notepad.
“I didn’t mean to,” her brother said chagrined.
“But you did. Do you lose your temper often?” Jordan asked.
He heaved a heavy sigh and Josie wondered if he would admit that he did have a short fuse.
“No,” he lied.
Josie didn’t know whether he was purposely lying or didn’t recognize his own shortcomings.
“I mean, I get frustrated. Things aren’t going well for me right now. I’m under a lot of stress.” Her brother looked so sad, defeated, his shoulders slumped, his head down.
“What kind of stress?” Jordan asked.
“The kind that’s going to get his ass kicked by a short redhead,” Hannah piped in.
“All right, can the peanut gallery exit the premises?” Nick said sternly.
“We’re leaving,” Jason said, pulling his wife out of the house.
As Jason yanked his wife out of her home, Hannah yelled over her shoulder, “Don’t worry, Josie. I’ll kick Dean’s butt next.”
Harry’s head came up, the melancholy in his eyes nailing her in the heart. She didn’t know what was happening with her younger brother, but clearly he was hurting. Since the day their father died, he hadn’t been the same.
“I’m sorry,” Harry’s mouthed.
Josie rose from the sofa, ignoring the protests from Nick, and went to her baby brother, sliding her arms around him as he crumbled into her neck, losing himself in wrenching sobs.
“Shhh.” She held him tight, wishing she could vanquish his pain.
Harry gripped the back of her shirt as if his life depended on holding onto her.
“It’ll be all right. Whatever is wrong, we’ll figure out,” she assured him. “Okay?”
He nodded, his face buried into her shoulder. He used to do the same thing as a child when he got injured or was upset about something. Though he’d use their mom as a crutch. He was the sensitive one. The one who wore his heart on his sleeve. Knowing Harry, he’d probably been worried as hell about her, stressing himself to the point where the emotional toll boiled over. Whatever he wanted to speak with her about, in his mind, the topic couldn’t be put on the back burner.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
“What is it that you need, Harry?” she implored. “Talk to me.”
He looked up, his face blotchy. She wiped away his tears.
“I need help paying for an attorney,” he said quietly.
She darted a glance to Nick and Jordan who were listening intently, not bothering to hide their interest.
“What kind of trouble are you in?”
“Financial. I got myself into a lot of money trouble. I finally went and saw a finance expert and they told me to file for bankruptcy.”
“Are you sure that’s wise?”
He nodded woodenly. “I know my credit will suffer for a few years but I don’t have a choice, Josie. This is the best course I could take. But I don’t have the money to pay for the bankruptcy attorney.”
“I thought they could finance that into your debt consolidation.”
He shook his head. “I’m not filing for debt consolidation. I’m filing for bankruptcy.”
“How did this happen?” He had plenty of money from their dad’s life insurance policy. They all got a small fortune. She’d tucked hers away. David had paid off a significant portion of his school loans. Mom had paid off the house.
He raked a hand through his overlong hair. He needed a trim. She reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Come by the salon tomorrow so I can give you a haircut.”
“Okay,” he said gloomy. “I just went crazy spending the life insurance money after dad died.”
“You spent it all?” That was a hell of a lot of money for him to have blown through.
“Plus more. David is angry with me because I got into his account.” He broke eye contact, picking at a thread in his jeans.
“Harry,” she chastised. “You should have come to me sooner. We can get you help. It sounds like you have a problem.”
He slumped further into himself. “I do need help. More than you could ever know.”
“Why is that?” Nick asked.
Harry looked up bewildered, as if he’d forgotten the detectives were there. She hadn’t forgotten. Except she wondered where Dean was. Why hadn’t he shown up? Was he that set on pushing away from her that he recused himself from her case? She should have known. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to rely on him. The men in her life had always let her down. Her boyfriends, by not being able to handle her demanding business. Her father, for leaving them too early in life. Her brothers, for sometimes causing her and her mother more stress than they deserved. And now Detective Rooney. She should have never allowed him to chip away at the wall she’d purposely erected, prohibiting people, more specifically men, from digging little holes out of her heart. She didn’t understand or know why, but Dean’s rejection, seared her the worst.
Harry shot him a hard and icy look. “I need help out of this financial mess and help with getting it under control.”
“We’ll get you help. I promise,” Josie said. Her brother may be a pain in her ass, but he was still her flesh and blood. She loved him.
Nick stood as a uniformed police officer approached the door. “Officer Ballard, Mrs. Campbell is pressing charges. Arrest Mr. Conley and read him his rights.”
“What?” Josie said.
“What?” Harry said. “I barely touched her. She beat the hell out of me. I should press charges against her.”
“Harry!” Josie scolded. “She’s pregnant.”
His eyes went wide. “She is not.”
“Yes, she is. And her husband is not too pleased you put your hands on her.” Nick waved the officer inside. “You can have someone post bail and pick you up at the station.”
Josie watched in horror as her brother was handcuffed in her living room. Could her life take on any more damn drama?
27
Dean raised an eyebrow at his best friend’s wife. “So you felt the need to kick his ass?”
“And I’m about to kick yours, ass wipe.” Her hands went to her curvaceous hips.
“What the hell did I do?” He swore his voice went up an octave.
Quicker than he saw coming, she reached out and smacked him in the back of his head. Hard. “Dumb. Ass. Josie is fantastic and you broke up with her?”
“We weren’t together to break up,” he snipped.
“You’re a goddamn mess.” She waved a righteous finger at him. “She’s a terrific catch and you’re so stuck in the past that you have no idea how to come into the present. What, did you die in that car wreck with Erin?”
Dean bolted out of his desk chair, getting into Hannah’s personal space. “Don’t you ever fucking talk to me like that. You don’t get to judge me. You don’t get to mock Erin’s death.”
His blood ran hot. His fists clenched at his side. He’d never hit a woman, but Hannah was pushing a topic and him to a point he might very well regret if she didn’t shut up.
“Fuck. You.” Typical Hannah, she got right into his face, unflinching. “Your friends won’t tell you because they’re pussies. I’m not. I will tell you that you might as well have crawled into that grave with her, because what the hell are you doing here besides taking up oxygen and getting your dick wet every once in a while.”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” he roared, taking a step toward her.
Nick and Jordan ran upon them, both men trying to pull Dean’s shaking body away from Hannah. Jason wedged himself between his wife and his best friend, a mask of outrage drilling them.
Chief came out of his office and barked, “Why the fuck is Hannah creating a scene in my station? She shouldn’t even be allowed to step foot over the threshold.”<
br />
Hannah bent to look past her husband at Dean. “Are you really that fucked up in the head that you’re going to torture yourself for the rest of your life?”
“You don’t know me to even say a word about my wife!”
Hannah grinned, the look almost sinister. “Don’t I? Or have I pegged you perfectly? You’re going to spend the rest of your life by yourself until you shrivel up and die, alone on your sofa, lying in your own feces for days. Or hope that some suspect takes you out in a blaze of glory so you can join her. But we all know why you’re still here. Because you’re afraid of what will happen if you put that pistol between your lips.”
Dean lunged for her, the little bitch. What the fuck did she know?
“Get her out of here,” Chief yelled.
Hannah flipped the chief off. “Here’s the thing. Not many people get second chances in life. What the hell makes you think that your Erin didn’t send Josie to you? A gift from her, as a second chance for you.”
Dean stopped, his mind going blank. “What?”
“You really are an idiot,” Hannah said while Jason carted her out of the door.
Dean chased after her, catching them in the parking lot.
“What did you say?” Dean grabbed her from behind, spinning her to face him, his hands gripping her biceps.
“Dude, get your hands off her before I fucking take you out myself.” Jason pushed him away from Hannah.
“Dean.” Hannah spoke calmly, like she’d irritatingly been doing the entire time he wanted to tear her apart. “If your wife loved you as much as everyone says she did, and if she cared about you to the point where she wouldn’t want you beating yourself up every single day you have left, why wouldn’t she play a part in divine intervention, sending Josie your way? Sending a woman who is perfect for you? A woman who could hold her own with you. Who is intelligent, beautiful, kind, and tough as nails. Personally,” she placed a hand over her chest, “there isn’t a part of me that doesn’t believe your Erin hasn't had something to do with Josie crossing your path. But you go ahead and push the idea away that your wife would want you to be happy. That your wife would want you to mourn her daily. That your wife would truly blame you for the accident. That your wife is that sadistic. Because everyone close to you says something different. Erin could have waited until you came home and asked you to go get milk. She knew you’d run to the store no matter what time you got off your shift. She could have called you and left a message, knowing full well that you’d have driven by while out scanning the streets and dropped off a gallon of milk. There are so many different scenarios that could have happened, but not one revolves around Erin ever blaming you for the accident.” Hannah shrugged negligently. “At least that’s what Jason, Nick, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell have told me. And they’re pretty damn good reliable sources.
Damage: The Men of Law (The Men of Law Series Book 2) Page 16