by Cindy Skaggs
Sofia’s whole demeanor changed and her head snapped back. “Says who?”
Blake was in uncharted territory. He sent a desperate glance at Logan, who shrugged. “If she stays here, whatever is chasing her will follow.”
“That sounds like…” She turned a dark glance on Logan. “Overprotective bullshit. And, I might add”—she put a hand on her hip—“this is my house, and if I say Vicki stays, she stays. If you”—she pointed at Logan—“want to stay to keep an eye on things, then—”
Blake choked out a laugh. “It’s not Logan. Whatever problems are hounding her, it’s personal, and having a federal agent in the house won’t protect you. Or Eli,” he added, knowing he was pushing hot buttons. “If she stays with me—”
“In the garage apartment,” Sofia said, the sarcasm thick on her tongue. “Because the garage is so far away.”
“Not the garage apartment.”
“Wait. You want to take her undercover with you?” Sofia’s voice rose. “And a sleazy nightclub is safer than my home in a gated community with a paranoid agent and his dozens of countersurveillance measures?”
“Yes.” No doubt in his mind. “If she’s with me, she’s under my protection, just like she was under her brother’s protection when he was alive.”
“What is it with men who think they provide protection? Women are not incapable. Vicki has done a stellar job keeping herself safe all on her own, thank you very much, and—”
Logan stepped up, put his arm around her shoulders.
Sofia sputtered in anger, but Blake took her momentary speechlessness to make a point. “I’m not discounting anything. Victoria’s ability to manipulate and control kept her from harm, but with her brother gone, all bets are off. You remember what it’s like to be outside the family?”
“Yes.” Sofia had been caught between Nick Calvetti and law enforcement, neither of which would help her. No one but Logan. He’d broken his own code to help Sofia.
“Outside the family is where Victoria is right now. The cops can’t keep her safe, even if she’d let them, which we all know she won’t. To be honest, there’s no actionable crime here. Yes, her house was broken into, but it’s a petty crime, not enough to warrant an investigation. They’d wait until something further developed.”
“Which could be her getting hurt,” Sofia said. “But—”
Blake shook his head. “She got along fine when her brother was alive, because any harm to her would invite retaliation. There’s no one to keep the vultures off, and they’re circling.”
“Oh, don’t be so melodramatic,” Victoria said, sweeping in with a regal air. “Things are hardly dire.”
The blasé air was nothing like her reaction when she’d found the cat, but Blake bit his tongue. He knew better than to taunt her. There were other, more effective means to getting his way. “So you think it’s okay to stay with Sofia and your nephew?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t say I was staying, Slick, I just said not to be so melodramatic.”
Sofia glanced back and forth between them. “You’re not staying on your own.”
Victoria smiled, gave her friend a light pat on the arm. “As it happens, I agree with Blake. Staying with him makes sense. He has a certain”—she gave him a wicked wink—“skill set I could use right about now. I’ll just grab my things and we’ll be off.”
The rigid set of her spine told Blake there was more to her sudden agreement than met the eye, but he didn’t push in front of Logan and his woman.
Sofia watched her go, and then turned to Blake. “Why do you call her Victoria?”
The memory jumped to his mind. Long, straight hair, wicked green eyes, and a smile so hot it fried his brain cells. He’d rammed into her, rushing to class. Where you going, handsome? she’d asked, and suddenly, getting to class didn’t seem too bloody important. I’m Victoria, she’d said before he could untangle his tongue. He’d never think of her as Vicki. It was too plain for such a vibrant personality. “It’s all I’ve ever known.”
Sofia looked at him with an assessing gaze. “You’re sophomore year?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Sophomore year. The reason I never saw her. The only boy she ever mentioned.”
That did weird things to him. “Yeah? What did she say?”
Sofia laughed, but before she could answer, Victoria was back. “She’ll never tell.”
Sofia confirmed it with a nod. “That’s confidential information.”
Chapter Eight
Vicki kept a tight grip on herself as they drove across town. The sky was solid dark when they pulled into the parking lot of Déjà Vu. The headlights skimmed a lot packed with old beaters and a row of motorcycles near the front door. A bluish light flashed from inside, outlining a bouncer the size of a wrestler. No way were they getting into the lot tonight, but Blake continued to the back near a cement wall where he pulled into a lone parking space marked “reserved.” “How is it possible no one uses your spot?” She couldn’t keep the spot in front of her house on a bet.
“It pays to know the owner.”
“The sign is more of a suggestion than a rule.”
He gestured toward the front. “David keeps it open for me.”
“The no-neck son of a mountain goes by the name of David?”
“Not everyone is born with a cool bouncer name.”
“Bouncer names are made, not born.” She was pretty sure Uncle Manny was born Emanuel, which was one sick joke. “Goliath seems too obvious for a man his size, but even Goliath is better than no name at all.”
He cut the power to the engine and pocketed the keys. The parking lot was dark with only a small light on the metal set of stairs that disappeared around the back. When the lights from the front console went black, darkness hit like a sudden storm.
Blake lifted an arm along the back of the seat and turned to her. “Spill it.”
“What, no foreplay?”
“You had the drive over, Victoria. What happened?”
She rubbed her hands down her thighs, the nerves something she wasn’t used to handling. “Manny sent me a message.”
“Text?”
“Please.” She glared across the dark car, certain he couldn’t see her, but equally certain he knew better. “Do you really think he’s stupid enough to do something traceable?”
“Then how?”
“He sent me a message. Through Eli.” Her heart still hammered with an anger so deep she could barely breathe. He unbuckled his seat belt and slid across the bench seat until he was right up in her space. “Back off,” she said, but her voice had a waver to it.
His pale eyes glowed in the dim light. “What message? How?”
“He was gone by the time I got upstairs, but he sent Eli to get me.”
“He was there? While we were in the house?”
“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. It was always about ego, like somehow the super team of Blake and Logan should have known the second the old man circled the house. “Do you want to know the message or not?”
“Please, don’t let the details get in the way of your story.”
“You’re more sarcastic now than you were when I knew you before.”
“Learned from the best.”
“Oh, honey, we both know that’s me.”
His features were more discernible as her eyes adjusted to the dark, and the grin on his face was unmistakable. “Proceed, darlin’.”
Mmm-mm. The lilt of his voice when he said “darling” was enough to make her panties wet. She licked her lips and continued. “Eli came down, said he wanted Auntie Vicki to read him a story. I went and read him three books.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t four?”
“You asked for details.” His teasing hit the spot, easing the anger and fear that had gripped her in Eli’s bedroom. “After three but not four stories, Eli told me he had a message.”
“He told the kid the message?”
“Who’s telling the story
?”
“You, obviously. It’s easier to get information from a CI than you, darlin’, and we’re supposed to be on the same side.”
As if he could compare her to a criminal informant. “There’s no need to rush. Some of the best things in life are drawn out, long and slow.” She winked at him. “And hard.”
“Oh, you’re definitely making things hard.”
His teasing put a grin on her face, and she spoke without processing. “I never thought to admit this out loud, but I’ve missed you.”
“Is it my rock-star good looks?”
Unfortunately, she thought. “And your rock-star humility. It’s breathtaking.”
“So we agree. You can’t keep your eyes off me. What’s the message?”
She tapped her bag. “It can wait until we get inside.”
“It’s not safe inside.”
“Excuse me?” She unlatched the seat belt so she could face him. “I thought the whole purpose of staying here was its relative safety.”
“No one will lay a hand on you while you’re here. You have my word, but while you’re safe, our conversations aren’t private. I sweep the car daily, and I’ve found more than one bug, but I don’t do the same inside. Whoever wants to know my business, I want them to know it. Fastest way to get where I’m going is to be transparent. Once we’re inside, no talking about this situation.”
“Or your position on the task force.”
“Exactly.”
The earlier lightheartedness faded into the seat, leaving her feeling as cold and lost as she had when innocent little Eli handed her a scrap of paper from Manny. “I don’t get you. I know why I’m here.” She’d burned a lot of bridges the last time. She had no one to help and nowhere to go unless she was willing to run, to leave Sofia and Eli and never look back. She swallowed. “Why are you helping me?”
“Hooking up with a mobster’s daughter, and that’s what everyone will think, will only help my legitimacy.”
“I doubt your bosses believe that. I know I don’t.” She shook her head. “You don’t make any sense to me.” No one did something for nothing.
“I told you the truth back at your house. What we have is nowhere near finished. I’ve tasted you again, and now I’m starving.”
Vicki mentally fanned herself, because the man knew how to get her hot. “Never say that it’s more than it is. It’s a moment, that’s all.”
His expression was unreadable. “What did the note say?”
She didn’t need to pull it out of her bag to read. Eli probably could have remembered it. Written in Manny’s spidery scrawl were five little words. “Remember what you can’t forget.”
“That’s it?”
She shrugged. “Gotta give the old man credit for being succinct.”
“But what does it mean?”
“That’s the question of the day, isn’t it?”
“I have more questions,” he said.
“Such as?”
“Does any of this have to do with the summons you got from the Justice Department? Could what happened at the house be someone trying to shut you up so you won’t testify?”
“Fair question,” she admitted, and one she’d considered. “It all came down on the same day, so hard to believe it’s a coincidence, but I don’t have a clue why they want me to testify. I could send a request, through the proper channels,” she said with a shudder of revulsion. “But the proper channels take time. Perhaps…” She let the words linger as she presented him with her most charming expression. She’d practiced often enough to know its power.
He chuckled. “You want me to get the information through back channels.”
“I didn’t say that,” she said, knowing a man was more amenable to an idea he considered his. “But now that you mention it, I think it’s brilliant.”
“Good thing it’s my idea,” he said wryly. “The smile you’ve got going there is a work of art. Bet it works ninety percent of the time.”
She leaned in and gave him a conspiratorial wink. “Your estimate is conservative. I’d say it’s closer to ninety-seven percent effective.”
“Consider me the other three percent.”
“You sure? The three percent aren’t much fun.”
“No, but I’m real, and I bet real is a rare deal for you.”
“Tell me, what turned you into a cynic?”
“Realist.”
“Same thing.” She reached out and smoothed the collar under his leather jacket. “You’ve been undercover too long.”
“You’ve been in the mob too long.”
She shook her head. “I don’t work for the mob.”
“Looks like damn hard work from where I’m sitting.”
“It’s my life.” Categorizing it as good or bad, hard or easy, just put more stress on an already-tense life. And she was done talking about it. “Which makes me a realist as well.”
“What’s happening isn’t going to disappear with a few swipes of a magic wand, Victoria. This situation is—”
“Dangerous. Got it.”
He rubbed a knuckle along her collarbone. “As long as we’re talking danger, is Manny on your side or not?”
She took a deep breath and watched his eyes track the movement of her chest. Men were easy. “Manny? No idea. My side, I think, but this cloak-and-dagger stuff doesn’t read like him. It’s complex and far too many shadow games.”
“Reads more like you.”
She laughed, kept it low and husky. “I’ll take your assessment as a compliment.”
“Before we go inside, anything else you want to get off your chest?”
“Your eyes.”
He lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Not going to happen.”
“Then I guess we better head inside.” She reached for the latch to the door.
“Wait.” He came around to her side of the truck and opened the door. The simple courtesy was the kind of thing her brother should have told her to look for in a man, if Nick had been a real brother in the ways that mattered. Blake reached up and pulled her from the cab, closed the door, and leaned her against it.
“Smooth moves. Seems like we’ve been here before.”
“One more thing.” He nuzzled her cheek. “Don’t take this situation lightly. Joke all you want, tease me all you want.”
“Oh, I will,” she said as she tilted her neck to give him access.
“Good to know.” He trailed a line of nibbles, the warmth giving her goose bumps. “But don’t take crazy risks. What happened to your house? We don’t want someone to repeat the procedure on you, do we?”
“All things considered, I’ll pass.” The idea of it turned her stomach. She gently pushed him back. He grabbed her bag from the truck. “Do you have a back door in this joint?” she asked.
“Yes.” He grabbed her and pulled the opposite direction. “We’re going in the front.”
She knew how the world worked. After the last time she entered this place, his men would notice her presence. Better to go in guns blazing, so to speak, than try to sneak in the back. She straightened her shoulders. “Making a statement?”
He pulled her close, released her hand, and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “Staking a claim.”
Her heart jumped, and it had nothing to do with the music pumping out of the club. “Your attitude is antiquated.”
“It’s the way of the world.”
“Just so you remember one thing.” She plastered a smile on her face as they walked toward the bouncer. “When we’re behind closed doors, I’m the boss.”
He laughed and then planted a hot, claiming kiss on her in front of the bouncer and the rest of the world. “In your dreams, darlin’,” he said when he lifted his head.
The heavy bass from the music pounded through the front door, doing a number on her head. Blake leaned forward and said something to David. The bouncer was a big guy in a leather jacket. Dark eyes, dark clothes, darker soul. They were interchangeable, this man and others like him. Hired mu
scle, thugs, goons. It didn’t work to have a soul behind the bulk. Vince had had one, and working for Nick had nearly done him in. It had eaten him up inside to spy on Sofia. He hadn’t been able to leave, afraid of the kind of protection Nick would put on her if he did. But he hadn’t been able to stay. He was a million miles away from it now, and good for him, but she couldn’t leave with him.
Vince wasn’t a forever guy, at least not hers. He deserved some sweet girl without much going on upstairs, but “sweet” did not describe Vicki. And even if she had been an amiable girl, she wouldn’t have had it in her to abandon Sofia or to leave Eli. They were all the family she had left. Unless she counted Uncle Manny, which she really shouldn’t.
Blake had led her inside while her mind wandered, inside to the pounding bass and flashing lights and mirrors. Who did mirrors in a club? A DJ worked the booth tonight—no band on the stage—and the guy was dancing like he was hyped on the drugs that most assuredly flowed through this place. Blake led her the opposite direction, where the music quieted to merely abrasive. He motioned to a barstool in the back corner of the open room. He placed her bag behind the bar and bent close so he could yell in her ear. “Be right back.”
She nodded. A waitress wearing a short black skirt and white T-shirt asked if she wanted anything, but she declined. Less than a minute later, the bartender brought a glass of ice water. The man was a mountain up close. Not as thick as the bouncer, but taller, with a chest as broad as a semi. He was the man she’d seen on the motorcycle the first day, still wearing a leather vest and giving off threatening vibes. “I’m Mick.” He reached out a long hand, which she shook. He said something that might have been either you’re in trouble or you are trouble. Both described her to a tee, so Vicki nodded her head to the music.
Mick leaned his long body across the bar. “We got your back, just the way Blake called it, but you fuck him over and all bets are off.”
Okay then. “I didn’t realize he needed a bodyguard.”
As Mick started to reply, Blake walked by and cuffed him on the back of the head. “I told you to play nice.”
“I was.”