The Ramseys Boxed Set

by Altonya Washington

  “Don’t walk away from me, Ty,” Quay made her face him.

  Thoroughly amused somehow, Tykira’s full laughter lilted in the air. “Walk away from you? You’re one to talk Quay Ramsey, and get your damn hands off me!” she slapped at the hold he had around her arm.

  Quay did as he was told, yet stepped closer to invade more of her personal space. “I can’t handle this,” he confessed, his nose outlining the curve of her jaw as he inhaled her scent. “I can’t think straight having you around…and that’s dangerous, Tyke.”

  She allowed herself to lean into his frame, desperate to indulge in a moment of the warmth residing between them. “Then please do as I asked, Quay,” she managed. “Distance yourself from the project and-”

  “I can’t do that,” he shook his head even as he remained close to her.

  “You mean you won’t,” Ty forced herself to resist crying out in response to his mouth trailing the line of her neck. She tried to move, but he held her against the side of the Cherokee. “You don’t want me, Quay- not really. It’s just your guilt…and hormones talking.”

  The arrogant dimpled smirk appeared. “And I suppose your hormones are on vacation?” he unbuttoned the champagne suede blazer that outlined her bosom adoringly.

  Ty shoved lightly at his chest. “What is it with you? You think you’re so fantastic, that no woman could get over you once you’ve had her?”

  Quay kept his head bowed. His dark eyes fixed on that hand cupping a plump breast. “I don’t know about that, Tyke,” he studied the mounds, partially exposed where he’d undone her blazer. “I know you haven’t gotten over me,” he applied a proprietary squeeze to her cleavage.

  Ty slapped him so hard her palm burned. Yet it was nothing compared to the satisfaction that coursed through her. Her glee was short-lived, though as he caught both her wrists and held them together at the small of her back.

  “Can’t you just let me do my job and go?” she tried a softer approach. Her doe-like gaze wider and pleading. “Quay? Can’t you at least do that for me? At least that?”

  Jerking her forward, Quay smothered her mouth beneath his. Tiny whimpers fluttered within Tykira’s throat at the sensation of his plundering tongue which rotated and thrust deep. Ty felt her eyes sting with tears as she kissed him back. In spite of it all, he could still reduce her to a pool of nothing with just a kiss.

  Quay pulled back, then treated himself to just one more taste of her lips. “No I can’t,” he wanted to say; letting you go is something I don’t think I can ever do again. He pressed his forehead to hers and walked away.

  ***

  Tyke Designs began its project with all the gusto they were known for. The railcars would be a dazzling sight everyone was sure. Ty had been working round the clock not only to ensure that the team would meet its deadline, but also in hopes of avoiding Quay and to keep her every waking thought off of him.

  She was passing the receptionist’s desk one day, when a thought came to mind and she began to sketch right there. Almost five minutes passed before she was interrupted.

  “Hey guys,” she called to three Ramsey Group V.P.s. She recognized them as easily as everyone else she’d come to know during the last several weeks. “What’s up?” she set her pad aside as she observed the strained yet polite expressions each man wore.

  Steve Owens, glanced at his colleagues when they nudged him forward. “Tykira we um, we hate to come to you with this.”

  “What?” Ty shook her head when no explanation was forthcoming.

  Bailey Gardner chuckled nervously. “Sorry Tykira, we’re just tryin’ to be tactful.”

  “I don’t think there is a tactful approach here guys,” Matthew Clark shared before focusing his brown stare on Ty. “This is about Quay,” he said.

  Her gaze widened briefly, but she nodded. “Go on.”

  “Well Ty…we know the two of you were close. Are close,” he corrected.

  “We need you to talk to him,” Steve urged.

  “If you would,” Matthew added.

  Ty fidgeted with the hem of the red cardigan she wore over a matching knit top. “Talk to him about what?”

  The three men exchanged quick glances. “His temper,” Matthew said finally.

  Ty, regarded the men with renewed interest. “I know Quay can be a little…difficult... but he’s not that bad.”

  “We’re glad you’ve been lucky enough not to see that side of him,” Steve said.

  “Well what’s he upset about?” Ty asked, clasping her hands in her lap while she sat perched on the edge of the desk. “Is it about the project?”

  “We um…we think it might be about something going on between the two of you,” Bailey guessed.

  “A disagreement,” Matthew tried.

  Ty smiled and waved off the perception. “I haven’t even spoken to Quay in a couple of weeks.”

  Again, the three men exchanged glances.

  “We know, Ty, it’s pretty obvious the two of you are goin’ out of your way to ignore each other.” Bailey said.

  “He may be willing to try ignoring you but the rest of us haven’t been so fortunate.”

  Ty almost laughed at Matthew’s words, but noticed how solemn he appeared. “Well what’s he done?” she asked.

  “When Quay’s on a rampage, he’s like a mad man. Quest is the only one who can calm him down.”

  “Probably ‘cause they’ve both got tempers that can leave grown men quaking in their boots,” Steve offered and stepped closer to Ty. “Quay’ll come down on you-”

  “Hard.” Bailey interjected.

  “For next to nothing,” Steve continued, “leave the office too early, feel his wrath, spend too much time chatting at the water cooler, feel his wrath. Disagree with him-”

  “You don’t want to know,” Matthew added.

  “We wouldn’t think about working for anyone else- they’re awesome guys. But times like this…” Bailey shuddered.

  “Everyone’s a little on edge wanting to make sure this project goes through without a hitch. Having the twins breathing down your neck- even one of ‘em- makes the situation even more stressful.” Steve said.

  “Guys…I’m sure Quay’ll cool off soon,” Ty tried to assure them.

  The men responded with a round of laughter.

  “He sure will,” Bailey promised.

  “And Heaven help the poor bastard who’s in the way when he does!” Matthew added.

  Steve moved closer. “We took a chance on calling out our boss, because we think you’re the only one who’s got the power to do something about it. Would you talk to him Ty? Please?”

  Knowing nothing but a promise would soothe their worries, Tykira gave the men a nod. When they’d thanked her heavily and walked off, she closed her eyes and groaned.

  “If only I weren’t about to leave for the day,” she whispered once they were out of earshot. Ignoring the voice calling her a coward, she collected her things and left the building.

  ***

  That evening, Michaela had ordered Ty to take a break and they headed off for a girl’s night out. Double Q was set to be their final destination.

  The two beauties received tons of nods and even more attention when they entered the club. Thanks to the club staff, it wasn’t long before most of the male patrons knew Mick was strictly off limits. Tykira, on the other hand appeared to be fair game. She had loads of fun talking and laughing with the scores of interested men who approached her. Unfortunately, every man Ty met wasn’t so gentlemanly as she discovered when one of her dance partners got a little too friendly.

  “So what will it take to get you to wrap those gorgeous legs around my back tonight?” The twenty something over-confident male whispered against Ty’s ear.

  Prying her fingers out of the back pocket of her snug fitting boot cut jeans, she fixed him with a knowing look. “It wouldn’t take anything at all,” humor filtered her smoky brown stare. “You’ve got about a snowball’s chance in hell of that happening.�
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  The remark left a sting that caused momentary surprise to flicker in the young man’s eyes. Not about to be bested, he eased his arms about her waist, pulling her close again. “Feel that? Impressive, huh?” he curved his fingers into the small of her back to settle her more snuggly against his aroused state.

  Not terrible shocked, but very peeved, Ty easily removed his hands from her waist, “At this moment it’s more endangered than impressive,” she rolled her eyes as she prepared to turn away.

  Sadly, the determined young man wasn’t willing to let his partner go so easily. His grip tightened in an attempt to force her compliance. The push Ty applied to his chest sent him stumbling and his confidence wavered when a few people laughed.

  “Bitch,” he reached for her again.

  This time, Tykira curled her fingers into the front pockets of his jeans and tugged him close. “Your prized possession down there is about to be bruised and terribly battered in about the time it’ll take me to raise my knee. Then you’ll see how powerful these gorgeous legs are.”

  Swallowing noticeably, the man raised his hands and decided not to tangle another minute with the statuesque beauty. He decided to back off a little too late. A split second after he raised his hands, he was jerked away.

  It was a moment or so before Ty realized that it was Quay who had pounced upon her dance partner. Then, watching the crowd part as he dragged the man away, she recalled her earlier conversation with the Ramsey VPs about Quay’s temper.

  “He’ll kill him,” she breathed, pushing hair away from her face as she rushed after them. “Quay!” her voice was effectively drowned by the thick crowd. Ty had to fight her way through the mass of bodies that had gathered to witness the scene.

  There was Quay, beating the man to a bloody mess. Ty could hear Quay telling his victim to leave her alone and asking why he’d been bothering her in the first place. Of course, every word Quay uttered was followed by a vicious blow to some area of the man’s face. Security intervened at last and it almost took the entire group of men to pull Quay off the battered club hopper.

  “Call an ambulance!” someone ordered.

  “Ty!”

  “Mick!”

  “What happened?!” Mick shouted over the melee.

  Ty ran a shaking hand through her tangled hair. “Quay almost beat some guy to death.”

  “What?!”

  “Mick, I can’t talk right now. I gotta find Quay!” Ty was already sprinting in the direction she’d seen security take their boss.

  Mick was about to follow, when she felt her cell phone vibrate in the breast pocket of her denim jacket. “Yeah?!”

  “Mick? What’s goin’ on there?”

  “Jill?!” Mick heard Jillian Red’s voice come in faintly beneath the noise from the crowd.

  “Can you talk?!” Jill called.

  “Gimme a sec,” Mick hurried back inside the nearly empty club to take solace in a quiet corridor. “Alright, what’sup?”

  Jill laughed. “First, let me thank you for dropping such a hot pot of a case in my lap. Miss Black’s death could’ve been solved years ago and I damn well intend to do so now.”

  “Have you been able to turn up anything?” Mick took a seat on one of the royal blue velvet settees lining the hallway.

  “Let’s just be thankful that the SPD of old hadn’t tossed their case files- though dusty and cobweb riddled they were,” Jill teased, “there’s definitely evidence missing,” she added, her tone firming.

  Mick nodded, having already told Jill about the Ramseys shady dealings regarding the case. “Will this missing evidence put more of a stump in the investigation?”

  “Well,” Jill sighed, sounding strangely optimistic, “that’s what’s strange. Even though actual physical evidence gathered at the scene was missing, the files were still there- detailed files.”

  Mick leaned back against the wall. “How detailed?”

  “An autopsy was performed as well as crime scene workups.”

  The beginnings of a frown furrowed Mick’s brow. “What are you saying?”

  “According to this file, samples were taken from Sera Black’s body. There was saliva from her breasts, skin under her nails and semen from the vagina as well as trace amounts on her clothing.”

  “Who did it belong to?” Mick asked, straightening on the settee.

  Jill sighed. “The investigation reached a halt after that. There’s no record of the samples ever making it to the lab for analysis.”

  “Damn,” Mick grumbled.

  “Obviously there’s still more investigating to do.”

  “You said it.”

  “At least we know we’ve got a definite case to solve.”

  “What’s your next move?” Mick wanted to know.

  “I’m going to speak with the County medical examiner. He’s retired and word is, he’s in poor health. It may be a long shot to even try to get a face to face with him, but I’m gonna try like hell,” Jill vowed.

  “Thanks girl,” Mick breathed, her lashes fluttering. “I feel a lot more positive about this thing knowing you’re on it.”

  “We’re gonna bring down whoever’s responsible for this. Look, I’ll let you know what happens with the M.E., alright?”

  “Sounds good, Jill. Talk to you soon,” Mick pressed the phone to her forehead when the connection ended.

  ~~~

  Tykira was approaching Quaysar’s upstairs office, when the double doors opened and several men hurried out. She could hear Quay roaring for them to leave.

  “You may want to give him a minute, Miss,” one of the guards advised.

  “Several minutes,” another stressed.

  Ty nodded, waiting for the group of men to disappear around the corner before she turned back to the doors. It was now or never, she realized. Besides, she couldn’t handle knowing Quay was lashing out at people because of her. Taking a deep breath, she trailed her fingers along the silver door lever before pushing against it and stepping inside.

  The office was dim and mellow of course, but Ty spotted him easily. He leaned against the wall next to the tall windows overlooking the downtown area.

  “How’s your hand?” she inquired, taking short awkward steps closer.

  “Fine,” his reply was soft.

  “Quay what were you thinking?” she folded her arms across the apricot-colored crop jacket she sported. “I could’ve handled that.”

  Quay’s smiled triggered his right dimple. “I know you could handle it. I was watching you the whole time.”

  Something about the admission made her breath catch in her throat. “Then what were you thinking?” She managed.

  “He shouldn’t have been touching you,” Quay smoothed a hand across the cobalt blue shirt that hung outside his sagging jeans.

  Ty bowed her head and smiled. “People touch when they dance, Quay.”

  “And you shouldn’t have been dancing with him.”

  “Why not?” She couldn’t help but ask.

  “Mick wasn’t dancing,” he muttered a curse and pushed away from the wall.

  Ty shook her head. “That’s because nobody dared to ask her. Apparently Quest set that decree before they were even married.”

  Quay grinned. “Yeah, I taught Q well,” he boasted playfully.

  Ty rolled her eyes. “Well, the same doesn’t go for me. Men will always approach a woman in a club,” she hooked her thumbs through the empty belt loops on her jeans.

  Quay’s dark stare smoldered, raking her body with unmasked possessiveness. “That’s because they don’t know you’re mine,” his voice was low sounding as though he hadn’t meant to speak the words aloud.

  “Are you serious?” Ty tilted her head as she stepped closer to the desk he stood behind.

  Quay shrugged, appearing as though what he’d said was no great revelation.

  “I’m yours,” her eyes narrowed in suspicion as she rounded the maple desk. “I suppose that’s why you’ve treated me so coldly all this time?
Or why you’re not being straight with me right now?” she challenged.

  “I don’t want to do this now, Ty,” he groaned and began to massage the back of his neck.

  “Oh to hell with you. I’m sick of all this damn beating around the bush. You’re attacking and snapping at everyone who gets in your way. Is it all related, Quay?”

  “Related to what, Ty?”

  She was unruffled, by the growling intensity of the question. “Related to what’s happening between us.”

  “Nothing’s happening between us,” he countered, rolling his eyes as he massaged his nose. “You’ve kept that clear,” the accusation was soft.

  “Please Quay,” she tossed up her hands and whirled away from the desk. “Since I’ve come back you’ve run hot and cold and I know there’s something you’re not telling me. I’ve always felt it,” she smoothed her hands over her arms to ward off a sudden chill. “What is it?” she faced him again. “Are you trying to spare my feelings? You never cared about them before. Hurting me, humiliating me seemed to be your preferred activities.”

  At last, Quay slammed his hand against the window. The thick glass vibrated in response. “Damn Ty, hurting you was never the intention!”

  “Then what?!”

  “Hell, I was trying to protect you!”

  The response stopped her cold. “Protect me?” she headed towards him when he turned away. “From what?”

  “Tyke I-”

  “No. Not this time. You tell me everything,” she stood boldly before him. Again, Quay made a move to retreat and she took hold of the hand he’d bruised during the fight. He winced when she added a bit more pressure. “How painful do you want it?” she asked.

  “Don’t make me go into this, Ty,” he set his other hand into the pocket of his jeans. “It’s irrelevant anyway.”

  She smiled, her eyes narrowing. “Good, then you should have no problem telling me about it, then.”

  Rolling his eyes, Quay started to turn away once more. “Alright, alright,” he conceded when the grip tightened on his injured hand. “When we were kids…you know I always had a lot of girls around me right?” he saw the guarded look that flashed on her face. “You also know that none of those relationships ever worked out.”