by Vonna Harper
“Getting decent teeth forced you to be grateful to Ethan. To believe you have to go out of your way to protect him.”
“Protect him from what?”
When he let go, she suspected he’d said more than he’d intended. Maybe she should do what she could to get to the bottom of things, but she couldn’t while she was in his presence. He was messing with her mind, her body. Her sanity.
When he didn’t answer, she got to her feet. Feeling as if she was coming close to a cliff, she walked over to the window. The clouds might last all day, the fog never lifting. The weather served as a mirror to what she was feeling.
“What did he want from you?”
Her arms wrapped around her middle, she faced Joe.
“Don’t try to tell me he didn’t insist on something in return. I know better than that.”
“Oh? How well do you know him? Never mind. I don’t care,” she said, although she should. “You’re right. There were strings attached. I regret them.”
Certain he’d insist she explain herself, she turned back to the window. Let him study her probably still-red ass.
Silence crawled into the room and took over. When she couldn’t handle it anymore, she hugged herself and rested her head against the glass. It felt cool, a needed contrast to what was going on inside her.
“He wants me,” she managed.
“Damn him.”
“Not like that. At least he hasn’t thrown that at me, yet. He wants and intends to make use of my presence at certain times. I’m supposed to sweeten the pot.”
“What do you mean by sweeten?” His tone was icy.
“What right do you have to the details?”
“I don’t want to argue the point. You’ve gone too far to try to back out of confessing.”
Confessing? Was that where she was headed? She didn’t trust Joe any more than she did Ethan, maybe less. But where her stepfather kept her in line via her debt and devotion to her mother, Joe’s hold wasn’t easy to explain. It had too much to do with how he could manipulate her in what felt like endless ways, to say nothing of how he fascinated her.
“Ethan entertains a lot of what he calls business associates. There’s always a lot of booze. And money. Making money work for him.”
“Like through gambling?”
“Sometimes.” She steeled herself against facing Joe and what she sensed would be his condemnation. “I don’t want to have to care how he runs his business, but I have to look after my mother’s interests. Her welfare and safety.”
“In other words, he’s roped you.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Or handcuffed. At least he hasn’t tried to shove an ass plug inside me.”
“Yet.”
“Yet.” She shivered.
“I’m glad you’ve taken that into consideration,” Joe said, “It could prove vital to your survival.”
She faced him, noting that he’d stood up. “My—survival?”
His expression was so sober it knocked her off balance. Was it possible he cared about her welfare?
“I’m sure you’ve considered that,” he said after a short but telling silence. “Back to what you mean by sweetening the pot. Does he want you to fuck his so-called business associates?”
“The occasion hasn’t come, yet.”
“But you believe it’s going to.”
“Yes. And soon.”
If anything, his expression became even more sober. “How do you intend to handle things?”
“Right now it’s a moot point.” She extended her arms toward him. “He doesn’t know where I am.”
“But he will. Before long.”
“I know,” she whispered.
“So do I,” he said.
Her world was upside down, everything she believed she knew about her place in it tossed about because this man had entered it. Against all logic, she wanted him to care. To help her.
“I can’t stay,” he said. “Too much to do.”
Please don’t leave. “What about me?”
“Your breakfast’s in the cage. Hopefully, I’ll be back before dark.”
“And then?”
“Then we’ll talk some more.”
She didn’t want him to throw out vague words. She needed him to hold her, to bury his cock in her. To fuck and be fucked.
Maybe she even wanted to be spanked again.
“I’m going to leave you something to wear. Do you like to read?”
“What? Some.”
“Fiction or nonfiction?”
“I haven’t had much time for reading, or rather I didn’t until the accident.”
“Yeah. That reminds me. Come here.”
His voice was low and barely controlled, layers just under the surface. Too aware of the shrinking distance between them, she did as he commanded.
“What was your life like before?”
She knew what he was referring to. Hell, of course she did. Her entire being seemed to revolve around before and after—when it wasn’t locked on him.
“If you know about my store bought teeth, you have to know the answer to what you just asked.”
“I need to hear it from you.”
“Damn you.”
He overtook her and seized her hands. Then he lifted her arms over her head, pulling her against him as he did. Her breath came in gasps as their bodies connected. She could stay like this for a long time. Wanted him to admit he felt the same way.
“You were a jock,” he said softly. “A damn good one.”
“Soccer.” Her throat tightened. “A scholarship to go with it. Maybe you already know that.”
“I do, but go on.”
“Why should I?” A moment ago she’d came dangerously close to begging him to stay. Now she needed him gone because she couldn’t think straight when they were in the same room. “It was a long time ago.”
“Not so long. If it hadn’t been for your boyfriend’s stupid insistence on showing off, his bike wouldn’t have lost traction on gravel.”
“Ex-boyfriend. I haven’t seen him since shortly after I got out of the hospital.”
“Because he didn’t know how to apologize?”
“I guess that was part of it.” If she could, she’d trace the edges of her mouth where tiny scars lingered. “I looked like crap.”
“Crap he’s responsible for. Did he own up to that?”
Oh no! There was no way she’d spill her guts, especially not to him. At the same time, she wished she could be honest with him.
“Of course.” She glossed over the words.
“Did he really? He owed you that and more. Don’t forget, I know what his fool stunt did to you.” His hold tightened. “How close he came to killing you.”
On the brink of explaining that Kurt had sustained serious injuries himself, she settled for letting Joe’s warmth and what she needed to be compassion sink into her. The less she thought about that day, the more secure her grip on what passed for normalcy.
“We both experienced a lot of emotions. I didn’t make it easy for him, calling him things I shouldn’t. I swore I wouldn’t let him see me cry, but…”
He stroked her shoulders. “But it took a lot out of you. Maybe more than you had to give. You wanted him to comfort you, but were scared you’d lose it if he did. It was easier to show him the door.”
Where had his understanding come from? “I just—damn, it doesn’t matter anymore.”
“Do you still love him?”
Shaken, she stared up into Joe’s eyes. He had her off balance physically and emotionally, nearly as vulnerable as she’d been when she’d ordered Kurt to leave her alone.
“No.”
“But you did at one point.”
She’d gone as far as she could and if he couldn’t accept that—to hell with him. It wasn’t as if she owed Joe anything.
“Loving someone is what makes every one of us vulnerable.”
“Yes.” She couldn’t give him more than that single word.
/> His eyes like smoke, he pushed her against a wall. Her arms were still over her head, her breasts close to his chest.
Somehow her lips parted. Somehow his did the same. And when they joined, she forgot where she was. Why no longer mattered.
There was just an insane heat. Coming from both of them. Melting her. Making her gasp.
Their mouths still crushed together, he yanked at his shorts’ button and zipper. She couldn’t think how to lower her arms until his erection came at her. Staring at the blur he’d become, she widened her stance. When she started to lift a leg, he hooked an arm under her knee so she stood precariously on one leg and shoved into her.
This was fucking, damn it. Hard, hot cock plowing into her pussy. The wall behind her abrading her back, her arms now clinging to his neck. His thrusts were a storm. His strength everything.
She wanted to bite his neck. Wanted to haul him to a bed or on the floor. But this would do. The heat. The suddenness of their fucking. Him maybe hating her and she maybe feeling the same way.
Working off energy. Going where words had no place.
When he repeatedly lifted her off her one grounded foot, she dug her nails into his shoulders. Tightened her core around the only thing of his he might ever give her. Hated him more and more. Felt something she’d by damn never admit.
By unspoken agreement they’d stopped kissing. It was better this way, wild fury replacing something neither of them wanted because it spoke of caring.
She became an animal. A bitch in heat. He was a stud, a stallion. Proving himself. Letting her know in all ways that he only wanted one thing from her.
A place to deposit his cum.
Unless there was more to him than he wanted her to comprehend.
Chapter 8
“He’s a mystery, all right,” Caleb told Joe as the two men met for drinks after Caleb’s shift ended. “I’d give a lot to understand what Korbin has against the mafia, but I keep telling myself it doesn’t matter. What does is that he has the resources to make J&J dangerous to mafia bosses. I swear there isn’t anything Korbin isn’t game to try when it comes to breaking the organization. Sometimes I think it’s a game to him. Amassing more money isn’t enough of a challenge?”
“I wondered the same thing. Maybe he sees it as a hobby.”
Joe took another swallow of his beer then studied the sketchy bar without turning his head. One thing about being new to the city, the bad guys didn’t know who he was. He’d been surprised when the fellow cop had suggested they meet in a public place, but figured Caleb knew what he was doing. At least he better.
“Do you trust him?” Joe continued. “No way is Korbin connected to the mafia. I’d smell it if he was.”
“Cop instincts?” Caleb swallowed, turned his glass around in his big hands, swallowed again.
“Pretty much. I’ve been at it a long time. What about you?”
“Ten years on the force,” Caleb said. “Started at the bottom, but working my way up. So far there’s nothing I’d rather do.”
“You haven’t asked yourself why the hell you’re doing this because the bad guys keep coming?”
“That happens.”
“But?”
“Lots of reasons. Dog with a bone for one.”
It’s more than that. “About why I asked if you had some time to talk. Lainey told me something you might be able to look into for me.”
“The two of you are talking? I didn’t get the impression that was going to be your agenda.”
“Yeah, well…”
He’d just started to explain what he’d learned about how Ethan had managed to make her beholden to him when the door opened and a trio of muscular men in their forties walked in. They had cop written all over them which explained why Caleb had chosen this place to meet. Obviously, local police had claimed it as their turf. Outsiders might wander in, but unless they were too dense to live, they’d quickly figure things out. Remembering a similar place in Seattle, he both relaxed and mourned what he’d felt compelled to leave. Once he’d made sure his brother’s killer had paid for taking Nate’s life, he’d return to where he belonged. Explain where he’d been and why.
Only it wouldn’t be the same because he’d never again talk to Nate.
“Okay.” Caleb waved indicating he wanted another beer. “I get that elements of your relationship with Lainey are none of my damn business. I know what it feels like to get close to a perp. Complicated. What do you need from me?”
“First, a question. Who’s your contact on the inside?” Before Caleb could reply, Joe shook his head. “I’m not after names. I wouldn’t do that. Is it a soldier with an ax to grind? Hopefully, it isn’t some pothead snitch who’ll say anything for money.”
“Heroin’s this guy’s drug of choice, but he hasn’t yet destroyed his brain. He hates what addiction has done to him. His folks kicked him out several years ago and he’d crawl through glass to see his daughter.” Caleb nodded at the trio of newcomers. They left Joe and him alone. “I feel sorry for him.”
“I’ve dealt with enough men who are like that. Some women too. Drugs are equal opportunity.”
“Hell of a mess. Anyway, my source has convinced himself he’s doing good by working with certain cops. He’s a soldier. Loyal to the boss of the moment.”
“Of the moment,” Joe mused. “Turf war going on?”
“And then some. Right now Ethan’s in charge, but I’m not going to take bets on how long that’ll last. He’s fixed on grabbing as much as he can while he can.”
“Are you saying he’s taking chances?”
“More like arrogance, which can be the same thing.” Caleb accepted the beer and took a long pull.
“Got it.” He’d finished his own beer and although he wanted another, he held off. Sobriety was vital. “About what Lainey said—unless she’s lying, which I don’t think she has a reason to, she’s in debt to her stepfather. He hasn’t demanded payment yet, but she knows it’s coming.”
“What kind of payment? She’s a beautiful young woman.”
His stomach twisted. “She is and it’s what you’re thinking.”
“Shit. So she’s backed into a corner.”
“That’s how I see it,” he said when he didn’t want to care.
Caleb swiped liquid off the bottle. “Sometimes it pays to be ugly. What got her into this fix?”
Giving up on trying to shove Lainey out of his mind, he planted his elbows on the table. Life would be easier if he hadn’t stepped into her world, but he had.
“He convinced an oral surgeon to do a decent job on her mouth after her accident. It had to have cost thousands. Maybe tens of thousands.”
“Oral surgeon?” Caleb frowned. “I might know who it is. He does a fair amount of what he likes to call bartering. Work the IRS doesn’t know about. That idiot is a serious gambler. He’ll place bets on anything.” Caleb shifted in his seat. “He’s addicted to racing. And if it’s illegal he’s really into it. Sanctioned stuff doesn’t do as much for him.”
“In other words he likes the thrill that goes with risk.” Joe had to grind his teeth to keep from losing it. “Not for him, but for the drivers.”
Caleb clapped a rough hand over Joe’s. “Unfortunately, you’re right, not that I have to tell you. He isn’t the only one who gets off on that kind of danger. You’d think that’s something only teens and young adults would be into, but those crooked races appeal to a surprisingly large number of people, mostly men, who haven’t grown up. Word gets around when one’s being planned. Underground communication my snitch is part of. Bets are placed. Lots of bets among a select group. Serious money.”
“You’re talking about street races.” It hurt to say the words.
“In part.”
“Who’s responsible for organizing this shit?”
“Come on, man, we’ve been through this.”
“Not in detail.”
“Fine. Whatever. It’s a lucrative income stream for the mafia. Not on law
enforcement’s radar like drugs are. Politicians don’t give a damn who wins or loses as long as the public doesn’t complain. Most people don’t know there’s such a thing.”
“I’m guessing a fair number of those who do want to bet on those harmless races.”
Caleb’s gaze fixed on Joe. “One of them cost your brother his life.”
“Yes. But the question I keep asking is why that one turned out like it did.”
“That’s what you’re here to try to find out.”
“Yes,” he repeated. Returning to the matter that had brought him to San Diego allowed him to put Lainey into perspective. She was a means to an end, nothing else. Maybe. “And I’m not going to quit until I have the answer and the responsible bastard is behind bars.”
“You have no doubt it’s Ethan Crowl?”
“None.” Joe was glad for the question because it helped him sort through his thoughts. “Nate drove for Ethan. There was a lot of sanctioned stuff. Whatever his boss wanted him to do. According to my brother, Ethan’s ego rules him. He hates losing, unless losing lines his pockets.”
“Interesting. Did Nate consider Ethan a friend?”
“Hell no. In fact, my brother was thinking about quitting because he was seeing things he knew weren’t right, but the money—”
“Was hard to walk away from.”
“It was more than Nate had ever made.”
“Ethan was willing to pay handsomely for his driver’s skill.”
“Nate was damn good behind the wheel. I taught him how to drive, but once he’d figured it out—what happened shouldn’t have. If there’d been a real investigation after—”
Caleb squeezed Joe’s hand so hard Joe winced. “It was determined to be an accident.”
“Accident, hell.”
“I’m not going to try to change your mind. I’m guessing your brother said something that made you suspicious.”
“He did. I tried to tell several in the D.A.’s office about it, but I couldn’t get them to listen.”
“You aren’t going to want to hear this, but—hell, you must know what I’m going to say. You don’t stand a chance of putting your brother’s killer in prison as long as you’re hung up on vengeance. The D.A.’s office needs facts, not emotion.”