by Liana Brooks
She fluttered her eyelashes, the little coquette. “Can you make rocket launchers legal in this city?”
“Um.” Wyte stumbled over the request, but Alan could see the wheels in his head turning as he tried to think of a way to make it happen. “Well...”
Delilah laughed. “I’m teasing! All I need is to borrow a few plain-clothes police officers for Addison’s New Year’s Eve party.”
Alan rolled his eyes. Petty jealousy was not attractive, he told himself firmly. And he wasn’t jealous. Delilah flirted with people. She probably did it without thinking. It wasn’t her fault Wyte was tripping over her like some under-sexed pimply teen waiting for his first kiss.
“Will you walk me to my car?” Delilah asked the police chief.
“Of course!”
Of course. Alan ground his teeth together.
Delilah hit him with a dazzling smile. “I did bring a little something for you, Adale. A get well card from Subrosa Securities.”
“Trolling for clients?” Wyte teased as Delilah left a small white envelope on the nightstand beside Alan’s bed.
Her smile was deceptively calm when she turned away. “Subrosa has always made the safety of Chicago’s prominent citizens a top priority. You can’t have your police everywhere, but I can put a team anywhere in this city in under five minutes.” The words were innocuous enough, but there was a hard edge to them that offered the promise of swift retaliation if things didn’t go her way.
Alan waited until they’d left before he opened the envelope: a generic get-well card and Delilah’s business card. On the back, in a careful hand, she’d written, “Do not trust Wyte.”
That put a slightly sinister spin to Wyte’s visit. And Delilah’s. Was she tracking him or the police chief?
A nurse came in with a tray of what he was certain was nourishing but bland food. “How are you feeling today?”
“Fantastic. I could run a marathon,” Alan said. “When are they releasing me?”
“After a gunshot?” Her dark eyebrows climbed. “Honey, you ain’t going nowhere for at least seventy-two hours. Eat your lunch and get comfy.”
Alan smiled politely and took the food. The nurse nodded approval and closed the door behind her.
Nine minutes later, he ghosted out of the room leaving nothing behind but a memory and a plate of rubbery scrambled eggs.
Chapter Ten
Daddy,
Thank you for the watch! It’s absolutely perfect, and it even matched my new necklace. See you next week.
Lovingly,
Delilah
Delilah checked her watch, then looked up at the McCormick Tribune YMCA. It wasn’t nearly as dingy as she’d anticipated. True, the rows of neat two-story houses were all closing in on their century marks, and the cars parked along the street were not the newest models by any stretch of the imagination, but everything seemed well kept. Christmas lights adorned the trees. Wreaths hung in windows. Wood smoke and snow filled the air with a wintery perfume. All that was missing was a wintery soundtrack and some mistletoe, and she’d be in a bad made-for-TV holiday movie.
“I told you it wasn’t the bad end of town,” Travys said from the depths of his hoody and jacket. “Perfectly safe.”
“Remind me again how I got roped into this,” she said as Travys opened the front doors of the YMCA, hot air and the smell of sweat swamping her.
Travys smiled. “I have to do community service as part of my social awareness class. You are here because you need to leave the office occasionally.”
“I’m work oriented.” There were a million and one things she needed to do tonight, but the minions were still trying to trace the late mayor’s last hours. So rather than pacing the apartment and grinding her teeth, she’d come here. To play basketball, because Travys told her she had to.
“You’re a workaholic who’s going to die of a stress-induced heart attack at thirty if you don’t watch it.”
“What are you, my mother?”
“Locker room is over there,” Travys pointed.
“I see the sign.”
He grinned like a shark who’d seen a seal pup. Poor boy. The chance to school his boss on the court was giving him delusions of grandeur. She hadn’t played since college, not competitively, but a girl didn’t grow up with four active siblings without learning how to play one-on-one everything like a demon bent on the conquest of hell. Delilah changed, tightened her shoelaces, and stretched. A little physical activity was good for the soul. Especially—she snickered—if it left her favorite intern trembling in terror whenever she mentioned sports.
The YMCA had multiple courts laid out side by side. Several games of pick up were going on, and in one corner a middle-aged Hispanic woman was coaching a co-ed little league team with polite English and a few earthy curse words in Spanish. The kids were eating it up. One even made a basket.
Very few of the players turned to look at the new girl. Skinny, white, ponytail... Nothing to see here. If Angela the Hollywood starlet had walked in, people would have turned. If it were Maria, with her dark-tan skin and emerald-green eyes, people would have stopped. If Blessing walked in, pale curls framing a face with lavender eyes, people would have gathered around her faster than she could blink. Even Gideon, their baby brother, would have caught someone’s attention. But of all the Smith children, Delilah had to admit she was the average one. Average height. Average weight. Average looks. Average everything. Even her super quirks didn’t do enough to set her apart from every other brown-haired, brown-eyed human walking the planet—and she took comfort knowing she was part of a vast majority. Stealth was far, far easier when you had a forgettable face.
Only one person acknowledged her, a muscular blond man shooting hoops with some teens on the far side of the gym. Probably another coach. He nodded to her with a smile, and then made a three-point basket.
“Hey,” Travys said, dribbling a ball like a Harlem Globetrotter. “Ready to see my Skillz?”
Delilah snorted. “You did not just put a Z on the end of that.”
He laughed and tried to run past her for a lay-up.
Delilah stole the ball, pivoted, and made a basket. “Oh, wait,” she said, cocking her head. “Who took her college team to conference championships? Was that me? It was, wasn’t it?”
Travys looked at her in mock outrage. “Oh, no. No, this is not happening. I’m young and viral.”
“Virile,” she corrected as he made a shot, and it bounced off the rim. “Okay, maybe viral.”
They played a quick game that Delilah won by a point before the group across the gym broke up. “I gotta check in with my people,” Travys said.
Delilah raised an eyebrow. “You have people?”
“Quinton. He’s a good kid. I’m sort of mentoring him. The Y has a tutoring program, and I’m helping him with math.”
“You dragged me away from work to play basketball so we could check that this kid is doing his homework?” She rolled her eyes. “I have minions for chores like that.”
Travys’s wide grin returned. “Yeah, so do I. You.”
She wagged her finger at him. “You are getting coal for Christmas!”
Travys laughed at her anger and pointed out a scrawny kid badly in need of new sneakers and a couple of 2000-calorie cheeseburgers. He was... maybe a size twelve mens? Maybe thirteen. She’d have to get Travys to steal one of his sneakers so she could get the size and replace those shoes.
“I need to cut him out of the herd,” Travys said. “Isolate him.”
“I’m glad you’ve been paying attention in biology class.”
Travys bumped her with his elbow. “Go be my distraction.”
“What?”
“Go flirt with his coach or something.”
Delilah widened her eyes and pretended to be outraged. “Flirt with a random stranger? What are you, my pimp?”
Travys rolled his eyes. “Just go in and do your girly thing with his coach, so I can get Quinton alone. Please?”
Delilah’
s eyes narrowed. “What ‘Girly Thing’?”
“You know, the flippy-hair pretty-girl thing you do right before you emotionally disembowel people and leave them socially dead. You do it at parties all the time.”
“I don’t emotionally disembowel people!” Delilah protested as Travys pushed her toward the other side of the gym. “I just speak my mind.”
“Trust me, it’s the same thing.”
Delilah stopped walking when the coach turned. “Alderman Adale.” She looked over her shoulder at Travys who made a shooing motion and then pretended to ignore her. Some days, the universe really was against you. She turned back to Adale. “Hello.”
“Hello.” Adale smiled.
Quinton shuffled at the alderman’s side as Delilah debated what to do. Well, what the hell. Why not? She smiled perkily and tilted her head. “Hi! I’m a distraction! Want to shoot some hoops?” She grabbed Adale’s arm and led him away from Quinton so Travys could go in for the kill.
“A distraction?” Adale asked. “What are you distracting me from?”
She fluttered her eyelashes exaggeratedly. “I’m supposed to leave Quinton isolated, so his math tutor can talk to him. I’m not sure if Travys is issuing death threats or trying to convince Quinton that a higher GPA is the only way to meet the University of Chicago cheerleaders. We’re supposed to act like we’re interested in talking to each other,” she added when Adale turned back to the boys with a frown.
“Right, of course.” His smile was warm. “How are you?”
“Better than you are, I imagine. How’s your side?”
He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I’ve been worse. Want to kiss and make it better? Or are you going steady with Wyte now?”
She laughed. “What is this, high school?” She bounced the ball a few times before adding more seriously, “I have reasons to be cautious around Wyte, as do you. Leaving him alone with you while you were wounded seemed like a bad idea.”
“So you rushed to my rescue?” Alan teased.
It shouldn’t have been funny, but Delilah laughed at the absurdity of the thought anyway. “I hardly think of it as rushing to your rescue after you took a bullet for me. How are you really? Should you be playing basketball a day after being shot?”
“By the time the hospital triage team got to me I was only grazed.”
Delilah relaxed. “Here’s to fast healing.”
Alan caught her hands with a gentle touch and finessed the ball from her grip. “Want to play a quick game of twenty-one while your intern practices his Spanish Inquisition routine on my boy? I promised Quinton’s mom he’d be ready to leave by ten.”
“He’ll survive,” Delilah said as she circled around, waiting for an opportunity to steal the ball back. Hot or not, no man who’d just walked out of the hospital was beating her on the court. She feinted in for the ball but Alan twisted, leaving her nothing to do but slap his hip.
“Are we playing or not?”
Delilah raised her eyebrows. “Half-court, poison points at eleven, no tips, no free throws?” They’d shoot only at one basket, each player trying to make twenty-one points with a combination of two-point and three-point shots. Eleven was the poison point; if a player had eleven points and missed their next shot, they reset to zero.
“And here I thought my math days were over.”
Delilah shrugged. “I’d love to stay longer, but I have plans tonight and I need to drop Pumpkin back at the dorm before I hit the club scene.”
Alan dribbled the ball. “I’m telling Travys you called him a Pumpkin.” He feinted left, pivoted right, and still came up against Delilah blocking his way to the net.
“Come on, Adale. Aren’t you going to show me some moves?”
He stepped back, dribbling as he watched Delilah. This time he drove left; Delilah swiped the ball out of his hands, pivoted, and made a three-point shot.
“Come on,” she taunted. “You have to want it.”
He caught the ball as it bounced between the nets. “What are we playing for?”
Distraction. “Fun?”
“How about a kiss for the winner?” He shot her smoldering look that promised hot and dirty things if she wanted them.
Picturing him naked wasn’t necessary—she’d gotten a good show the night before. “How ‘bout you buy me dinner?”
“Winner gets a free dinner?” Alan sounded doubtful.
“I get a free dinner,” Delilah said, “because I’m going to win.”
Alan shook his head, turned, and did a lay-up. “Maybe you’ll have to buy me dinner.”
Delilah took the ball. “Mmm, hmm.” She stepped closer, invading his personal space, keeping eye contact. Alan’s eyes widened. She could hear the hitch in his breath as she brushed against him. She smiled, and shot the ball over his head into the net.
Alan caught her around the waist, and her heart raced as her cheeks heated. “That’s cheating!”
“No it’s not.” They were close enough to kiss. Tempting. So tempting. She tore herself away from his gaze and stepped back. Shooting him a flirty smile she sent the ball flying over his head. Nothing but net. “Five to two.”
He shook his head and retrieved the ball. Ten points flew past for each of them. Alan jumped and grabbed, pivoted, and scored two more points.
“You’re not going to hit twenty-one like that.” She shot another two-pointer that sailed over his head. “Oh, wait, that puts me ahead! Nineteen to fourteen, me.”
Delilah bent over to pick up the ball, making sure Alan got an eyeful of her hind end while she adjusted her tank top. A little tug down was all she needed.
His eyes widened when she stood up. “That is cheating.”
“What?” She batted her eyelids innocently. “A little cleavage wouldn’t distract a big, tough, politician like you, would it?”
“On anyone else? No. On you? Make a couple baskets already so I can kiss you.”
Delilah took an unopposed shot as Alan devoured her with his eyes. “Oh, come on. I know you aren’t that tired!”
“I’m recovering from a gunshot!” he protested. “And that was a free throw. One point for you.”
“What!”
He smirked as he leaned close to steal the ball. “Twenty to fourteen.” Smiling, he shot a tree-pointer.
Seven sweaty minutes later Delilah scored her final two points. “I win.”
“Right,” Alan agreed with a cocky smile. The ball bounced away, forgotten, as he caressed her face. “You win.” His lips brushed over hers, warm and tempting.
The list of pros and cons burned to ash at his touch. Love always brought a risk. Relationships brought a risk. But something that felt this good couldn’t be wrong, could it? She tilted her head, deepening the kiss. Alan wrapped his arms around her and the kiss became something more, almost desperate. A thousand unspoken words silenced at hundreds of chance meetings fueled their collision.
Movement on the edge of her peripheral vision was the only thing that pulled Delilah away from his embrace. She cleared her throat as Alan wiped lipstick from his mouth. “Well. Hi.”
Travys raised his eyebrows. “Hi.”
“Are you done?” Delilah asked nonchalantly.
“Am I interrupting something?” Travys asked.
Yes. She made eye contact with Alan. Yes, he’d definitely interrupted something. She just wasn’t sure what yet. “I was distracting him. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it? Ready to go?”
“Whenever you are,” Travys said, frowning at Alan.
“Good night, Alderman.” She smiled brightly and walked away, low-grade panic jangling in her chest.
Travys ran to catch up with her. “What was that?”
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t you say you didn’t trust him?” Travys asked, stopping short of chasing after her into the woman’s locker room. “I swore that’s what you said.”
Delilah threw her hands up in frustration. “The situation has changed. Okay? I need to go home and
think about this.”
Travys let the door swing closed with silent disapproval.
Well that had not gone as planned. She leaned back against a cold metal locker and stared unseeing at the wall. She had to get that background check finished, it was the only way out of this mess. Either Alan could be trusted, and she was safe to fall in love, or she’d just kissed a man she was destined to kill.
Chapter Eleven
Dear Maria,
I know you’re busy with the elections and everything else that’s coming up, but I do need an RSVP for Christmas. It’s my year to set up the holiday fun and twist arms. This is Phase 1 of the arm-twisting. Mom wants everyone home for Christmas. I will beg, bribe, and threaten you with physical pain and the destruction of all you hold dear to make sure you are there.
Let’s start with the bribe. I know that in your free time you happened to cross paths with a certain dark-eyed wonder boy who goes by the name of Kon and controls the weather.
I also happen to know that The Company has a very extensive file on him. Sorry, had. Until this morning when I accidentally smashed their firewall to smithereens. The file is now in my possession. And my, but it makes fascinating reading. I may have to give this cowboy a call, see if he likes bareback riding.
Don’t even trying to hack my system. The data is on a reserved hard drive and not connected to anything you can touch, kept in an undisclosed location that even my best minions won’t divulge.
RSVP or else.
Your evilest sister,
Delilah
Alan drifted through the shadows of the alley to the dead drop, memories of Delilah still keeping him warm. He’d spent all day wondering whether or not he should call her. Twice he’d composed emails. Ads for floral arrangements had teased him, but he wasn’t sure if Delilah would like flowers. And, if she did like flowers, she probably wouldn’t like them delivered to her office. Peace of mind was out of the question until he could figure out exactly where their relationship was.
Which wasn’t going to happen until after this meet-up.