by Sarah Hegger
Luke opened his mouth like he might argue further, but sat back in his chair with a growl.
“He could be at the mall.” Tiffany pointed to a strip mall across the road.
“What would he be doing at a mall?” Luke’s eyes narrowed. “Thomas already made sure he had something to eat.”
“He was upset,” Tiffany said. “After you left this morning, he was very upset.”
“I tried to talk to him, but he nearly took my head off,” Thomas said.
The waitress slid the plate of pancakes in front of her. Tiffany eyed them and sighed. “We’ll have the check, please. We need to split up and look for him.” Tiffany took a quick gulp of her coffee. “He doesn’t know that many places, so he can’t have got far.”
“True.” Thomas smiled at her. “Luke, you try the shop where you work. I’ll look around here.”
“I’ll try Luke’s house.” Dakota so owed her for risking another round with Luke’s nature girl.
“Good.” Thomas got to his feet. “We’ll keep in contact by cell.”
*
Dakota was not at Luke’s house. Nature Girl was, however. She looked plenty ready to have her say as she answered the door. Tiffany cut her off. “Dakota’s missing. Is he here?”
The woman blinked and then recovered. “Why the hell would he be here?”
“Maybe he came looking for Luke?” The woman needed to check her attitude.
“Weren’t you and the big guy supposed to be looking after him?” The woman glared at Tiffany.
“Yes.” She and Thomas were supposed to be looking after him. They’d fucked that bit up royally. “If you see him, could you give Luke a call?”
The woman nodded and slammed the door.
“Nice knowing you,” Tiffany said to the closed door. She walked back down the pathway. The Miura wasn’t parked on the curb where she’d left it. Luke must have put it in his garage or something. Tiffany stopped. Slowly she retraced her steps to the door. It was a long shot, but it made a weird sort of sense.
The woman must have been watching from the window, because she yanked the door open before Tiffany could get there. “You can’t come in and check.”
“The car.” Tiffany glanced around for some sort of garage. “Where does Luke keep the Miura?”
“You can’t have it back.”
“I know that and I don’t want it.” Tiffany took a deep breath. “But I thought maybe Dakota would be there.”
“Why?”
“Because of me.” The more she thought it out, the more sense it made. When she had been angry with Luke, she’d taken her rage out on the car. It had certainly gotten Luke’s attention. Dakota was more than angry enough to give it a try, as well. “I think Dakota is doing the same thing to the Miura I did.”
“You mean key it up?”
“Yes.”
“And carve your name into the seats?”
“Maybe.”
“Slash the tires? Break the headlights?”
A recitation of past sins was never the best fun, especially from someone who’d made up their mind to hate your guts. “Where does Luke keep it?”
“Garage down the end of the road.” The woman jerked her head to the left. “It’s locked.”
“Do you have the key?”
“Yes.”
“Can I have it?”
“Not sure.”
Tiffany dug her nails into her palms. “I’ll bring it right back. As soon as I’ve seen whether Dakota is there or not.”
“You don’t need the key. He couldn’t get in anyway, because it’s locked.”
“He could have broken in,” Tiffany said.
The woman went all squinty eyed. “I don’t trust you.”
Ditto. “You don’t have to, but if Dakota is there, then I might be able to stop him. You can call Luke and tell him where I am.”
The woman glowered at her. Her expression grew almost comical as she weighed her options.
“What the hell have you got against me, anyway?” Tiffany didn’t have time for her to decide.
“You broke Luke.” The woman snarled at her. “Before you, he could have loved. He could have had a good relationship, but you broke that in him.”
Tiffany stepped back at the woman’s vehemence. “I think you give me far too much credit.”
The woman’s mouth tightened. Tiffany braced for another helping of grief, but Nature Girl stepped into the hall and grabbed a key from a hook on the wall. She held it out to Tiffany. “I’m calling Luke and telling him where you are. If anything happens to that car again, he’ll blame it on you. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Fine.” Tiffany snatched the key. She trotted down the walk toward Thomas’s truck. Then she stopped and turned again. “You know, I think you’re the one who should forget about me. Luke already has.”
“Go fuck yourself.” Slam went the door.
Tiffany jumped into the truck and followed the road to a dead end lined with small garages. As it turned out, she didn’t need the key. The wooden barn-like door to the second one on the right was open and there was the Miura. Tiffany parked and got out of the truck. Her heels clacked loudly on the sidewalk as she approached.
From the front, the car looked okay. So, headlights not bashed in and tires not slashed. So far, if Dakota intended doing a Tiffany on the car, he was way behind. The light in the garage was on and she stepped inside. “Dakota?”
Her heels got louder on the smooth cement floor of the enclosed space. The Miura’s paintwork gleamed in the glow from the overhead light. “Hello, baby.” She couldn’t resist giving the car a stroke. The paintwork was fine. Tiffany peered through the window. The seats were fine as well. Disappointment clenched in her gut. She must have been wrong.
“What are you doing here?” Dakota appeared so suddenly she jumped. For once, her first feeling on seeing him was delight. She’d found him.
“Looking for you.” She might actually have beamed at him, she was so glad to see him.
“Why?”
“I thought you might be thinking of doing a Tiffany on the car.”
Dakota blinked at her, his eyes so heavy with eyeliner it was hard to read his expression. His mouth, though, turned down at the edges. He looked young and defeated. “I couldn’t.” He shrugged and opened his hand to show her a small pocketknife. “I was going to mess up his car, but I got here, and I couldn’t.” He stared down at the car.
“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Tiffany ran her hand over the curved lines of the roof. “Believe it or not, I cried for three days after I hurt her.”
“Lame.”
“Yes, I know, but I did. It took me most of this time to put her back together again. I’m glad I did.”
Dakota shifted around the side of the car. There wasn’t a lot of room and he had to turn sideways. “So, now what?”
“Now I call your brother. We’ve all been looking for you.”
“Please, he doesn’t give a shit about me.” Dakota’s top lip curled. He shifted the pocketknife in his grasp.
“Yes, he does.” Tiffany kept her eye on the knife. It didn’t have to be big to leave a huge mark. “He came around this afternoon to tell you what a dick he’s been. He would love to have you stay for the summer.” Okay, Luke hadn’t said that, exactly, but she was pretty sure that was what he meant.
“I’m thinking Chicago would be better than this place. And his girlfriend’s a bitch.”
“At least she’s not a Barbie.”
Dakota’s lips actually twitched. Then his expression grew guarded again. “Does he know?”
Tiffany nodded and he swore beneath his breath. “We had to tell him,” she said. “You can’t expect us to care about you and not do anything about this.”
He made a rude noise and pursed his lips.
“It’s up to you,” Tiffany said. “You can decide who you want to stay with. All I’m telling you is that you have options. Luke wants you. And I …”
He glanced up
at her suddenly, alert and keen.
“I can put up with you,” she said. This time, there was an actual smile at one corner of his mouth. It was nowhere near a grin, but it was a start.
Dakota sauntered around the car to where she stood. “Are we going or what?”
“We’re going.” Tiffany barely stopped herself from putting her arm around him as they turned for the door.
Two men blocked the exit.
Chapter Thirty
Tiffany had seen these men before, but where? Both wore jeans, one with a burgundy polo and the other a dark green T-shirt. They looked like regular guys, both dark haired and in good shape. Tiffany would never have glanced twice at either of them—except T-Shirt carried a gun. Not pointed at them—thank you, God—but resting in his hand, enough of a threat to dry her mouth right up.
Dakota went pale enough to faint. “Fuck.”
“Do you know them?” Tiffany stared at the gun. She caught Dakota’s nod out of the corner of her eye.
The penny dropped. It was the two men from Youngtown. The ones Thomas had pointed out from across the street. The men must have followed them. A quick glance at the street behind them confirmed it was empty.
“Good morning.” Polo Shirt stepped forward. “How are you, Dakota?”
Dakota took a small step closer to her. “Fine.”
“You look well.” He grinned a flash of perfect white teeth.
That gun looked huge to her, gray and nasty.
“Who’s that?” T-Shirt jerked his head in her direction.
Tiffany tried to focus on his face, but the gun kept making her look at it.
“She’s nobody.” Dakota got his shoulder in front of her, as if to shield her from the men.
“She’s hot,” said T-Shirt, his leer doing a slow, creepy inventory.
“Really, Sid?” Polo Shirt glanced at his companion. “You’re making the lady uncomfortable. My apologies.” More white teeth flashed in his attractive, clean-cut face.
Tiffany gave a weak nod. The gun made her way more uncomfortable than the comment, but what the hell. She was not going to argue the point.
“You are, however, rather lovely,” said Polo Shirt. “My maladroit friend here is quite right about that.”
“Thank you?” What the hell did maladroit mean? Thomas would know. Except Thomas wasn’t there. It was just her and Dakota and two men with a gun. Sweat broke out over her.
Polo Shirt gave her a polite nod. His glance cut back to Dakota. “You have been difficult to track down, my young friend. Sid was becoming rather difficult to manage.” He turned back to her with a shrug. “You see, Sid likes cities. Sid doesn’t like the desert, although he did concede to a fondness for the mountains this morning.”
“I wasn’t running.” Dakota’s breath rasped harsh and hard.
Dakota was scared shitless. That made two of them. She took his hand. He twined his fingers with hers and pressed hard.
“No?” Polo Shirt raised his eyebrows. “Because it certainly looked that way to us.” The corners of his mouth turned down in regret. “And if it looked that way to us, then it looked that way to Ronnie.”
“I was coming back.” Dakota stepped forward.
The gun moved an inch. Tiffany tugged back on his hand and he obeyed the silent command. She increased the pressure between their fingers, a silent warning. “He was,” she said to Polo Shirt. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Sid. “He was coming back with me.”
“I believe you, ma’am,” Polo Shirt said. “Unfortunately, our young friend here, I do not believe. I would say that you were as much a victim of his creative relationship with the truth as me and Sid.”
Tiffany didn’t have much she could say to that, so she snapped her mouth shut.
Sid scratched at his forearm with the blunt, ugly barrel of the gun. A large tattoo of a dragon curled around and disappeared behind his elbow.
“Ronnie wants his money, Dakota.” Polo Shirt stopped with friendly. His expression went hard enough to cut diamonds.
“I’ll get it to him,” Dakota said, a silent plea in his voice.
Tiffany squeezed his hand. He returned the pressure.
“I don’t believe you.”
“It’s true, Patrick, I swear it.” Dakota’s hand slid sweaty against hers.
Polo Shirt was called Patrick. Tiffany tucked that away. She’d read somewhere that it helped if you had a name. It was a way to make them see you as human. No, they needed your name. That was it. “I’m Tiffany,” she said. Both stares swung in her direction. “Dakota is traveling with me.”
“Great to meet you, Tiffany,” Patrick said with a smile. “Sorry about the circumstances.”
Sid ogled the car. “Is this a Miura?”
“Yes.” Great, a car lover, she could use that.
He gave a long whistle of appreciation. “Sweet.”
All right then, if he wanted to do a little bonding over the car, she could manage that. “It’s an SV,” she said. “All the parts are original.”
“Seriously?”
“Well, authentic, anyway. It met with a bit of trouble and needed some repair. But I made sure to track down the genuine replacement parts.”
“I bet she’s a sweet ride.”
“The sweetest.” Tiffany winced as her voice came out overly enthusiastic.
“I’m not much of a car man,” said Patrick. “Sid is. I am more of a money man. As in, I am here to collect.”
“We could take the Miura,” Sid said with a hopeful gleam in his eye.
“No.” Dakota stepped forward as if he would guard the car.
Up came the gun and Dakota stopped. Tiffany froze. If they wanted the car, let them take the damn car.
“Dakota is quite right,” Patrick said. “A car like this would be child’s play to trace. No, we’ll take our money. Now.”
“I don’t have the money.” Dakota slumped back at her side. Tiffany stepped closer to him, trying to reassure him with her presence.
Patrick heaved a sigh and shook his head. “That is regrettable, Dakota. We have a serious problem in that case. Because I am not leaving without the money.”
“I’ll get it.” Dakota openly pleaded with him. “As soon as I get home, I can get it.”
Patrick shook his head. “No deal, Dakota.”
A car appeared in the road behind Patrick and Sid. Luke’s battered SUV. Thank you, Jesus. A rescuer—or a witness. She dragged her gaze away. Perhaps if Luke could sneak up behind them? A door slammed and then another, and Patrick swung around. A gun appeared in his hand as well.
“If you would.” He gestured to her with the gun. “Quickly, Tiffany. I do not wish to face your large friend without a little insurance.”
“Take me.” Dakota stepped forward.
Bless his heart. Dakota had balls. Damn, but she couldn’t let him do it. “No.” Tiffany moved quickly closer to Patrick. “It’s fine.”
He snagged her arm and dragged her in front of him. “I apologize for the necessity of this,” he said, his voice a purr in her ear. “But your friend is rather big and looking somewhat murderous.”
Thomas stepped from the car. He stopped in his tracks, his glare locked on them. Patrick was right. He did look like he could rip someone apart.
“Get Dakota.” Patrick jerked his head.
Sid grabbed Dakota by the shoulder.
Tiffany flinched as Dakota got slammed into the wall. “Don’t hurt him.”
Sid shoved Dakota’s head against the garage wall, his gun resting against his temple. Dakota’s eyes went so wide they nearly swallowed his face. Shit, she had to do something. Why wouldn’t her brain work?
“You didn’t think you could take Ronnie’s product and not pay up, did you?” Sid snarled in Dakota’s ear. “You little rich punks. You always think you can take what you want and not pay.”
Sweat beaded Dakota’s forehead as he gabbled a denial.
Oh, fuck. The drugs he’d taken on the road, the accusatio
n of dealing from school, even her trashed room started to make a gut-churning sort of sense. “Please?” She spoke to Patrick because she didn’t like her chances of reasoning with Sid. And his gun. “He’s just a boy. We’ll get you your money. Just don’t hurt him.”
“Tiffany?” Thomas spoke, his muscles locked in a rigid line. He looked ready to spring into action.
“Don’t.” She shook her head at him. If he did that, somebody was getting shot for sure. “They have Dakota.”
“And we have these. Don’t be a hero.” Patrick brought the gun up so Thomas could see it. He pressed it against the side of her neck, cold and hard.
Luke’s gaze took in everything. He seemed to be mentally assessing his chances.
“What is this about?” Thomas held his hands to the side, in clear sight.
Thank God for Thomas and his calm.
Luke edged a step closer. A whimper got away from Tiffany. If stupid, numb-nuts Luke tried anything, she or Dakota would be target practice for sure. She glared at him not to come any closer, giving it everything she had.
“Dakota owes an associate of mine some money,” Patrick said. His calm, polite tone scared the crap out of her. This man had no fear.
“Little fucker.” Sid shoved Dakota against the wall. Dakota’s head thunked on the unforgiving cement.
“How much?” Thomas asked.
“Five thousand dollars, and a little more for interest,” Patrick said. “Not a huge amount, by any means, but Ronnie has the need to send a signal to Dakota and his friends. They haven’t been behaving well and Ronnie has run out of patience.”
“I’ll get you the money,” Thomas said. “Let Tiffany and the kid go and I’ll get you the money. Hell, I’ll even come with you and you can keep me until I get the money.”
“That is a very generous offer.” Patrick sounded impressed. “You are a good man, I can tell. However, our issue is not with you. The police tend to take a dim light of getting civilians involved in our dealings.”
“How about children?” Thomas kept going with the same reasonable tone.
Patrick chuckled. “Children who deal drugs are given special treatment by the authorities.”
“Not such a big man, are you?” Sid slammed Dakota’s head again.