by Tiffany Snow
We stood by the door to the hospital, at a standoff, and I frowned as I looked in his eyes. He seemed guileless, his face carefully blank—
And realization dawned. My lips thinned.
“It was a hit, wasn’t it,” I said.
Parker frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Last night. It was a hit. Did Charlie come by and talk to you?” My fists were clenched at my sides as I waited for him to answer.
Parker’s gaze was steady on mine as he studied me and several beats passed. Finally, he nodded.
“Yeah. It was a hit.”
Chapter Six
I thought I’d been prepared for that information, but I wasn’t. My veins seemed filled with ice and my knees grew weak.
Someone had deliberately tried to kill my dad.
I turned to head back into the hospital, but Parker caught my elbow, halting me.
“I need to go make sure Charlie has called our security people to guard my dad,” I said, trying to tug myself free.
“He’s already done that,” he said.
I shot Parker a glare. “Why didn’t he tell me? Why do you know someone tried to kill my dad and I don’t?”
He hauled me closer to him with laughable ease. “Because your dad was just one of the targets,” he said, his voice low and intense. “You were the other.”
My mouth went dry and my eyes went wide, staring into the blue depths of Parker’s. I didn’t want to know that, didn’t want to believe it. I’d had too many bad things happen to me lately and it hadn’t occurred to me that going to work for my father would be a life-threatening decision.
“Sage, it’s okay,” he said soothingly. “You’re fine and you’re going to stay that way.”
I wondered why he was talking to me as though reassuring a child, then I noticed my knees had nearly given out entirely and he’d wrapped his other hand around my arm, supporting most of my weight.
“I need a drink.” The words put some starch back in my spine and I straightened my clothes and patted my hair (as though anything other than a shower and blow dryer was going to save it at this point).
Parker signaled for a cab and once we’d climbed inside, directed the driver to my apartment.
“So is security covering my place, too?” I asked, staring out the window. That was going to be super fun. Men I didn’t know watching my every move. And I wasn’t even getting paid for it.
“No. I thought you’d be more comfortable with someone you knew.”
I turned to look at him. He raised an eyebrow. My jaw dropped.
“No.” Please tell me I’m wrong.
“Don’t sound so thrilled,” Parker said dryly.
“So that whole ‘Oh help me, I might keel over’ was just a show to get me to stay over so you could keep an eye on me?”
He gave me a shameless smile.
And it would appear I’d been effectively outmaneuvered. “I don’t want to insult your masculinity,” I said, “but wouldn’t the fact that you have a gunshot wound somewhat impede your bodyguarding abilities?”
“My gun arm is just fine.”
I could tell by his tone that the discussion was over, not that I was terribly distraught at having to stay with him. I was worried about him and wanted to keep an eye on him. If he chose to see it as him protecting me, well then so much the better.
But I knew I needed to keep him at arm’s length. I wasn’t prepared to trust him again, especially now with Natalie back. I didn’t believe that he still harbored feelings for Natalie, but with Ryker acting completely the opposite, I didn’t want to muddy the waters between Parker and Ryker now that they’d patched things up.
The cab pulled up to my building and Parker handed him some money as we got out. I felt his eyes on my back as we went inside and was unsurprised when he plucked my keys from my hand and entered my apartment first.
“Stay here,” he said, leaving me by the door he closed and locked it behind me.
I pressed my lips together and crossed my arms over my chest. If he wanted to play alpha male bodyguard while still recovering from a gunshot wound, then he could be my guest.
Parker disappeared into the hallway that led to my bedroom, then was back in about five seconds flat.
“Let’s go.”
There was no compromise in his voice, just a flat order that I instinctively wanted to obey. He pulled open the door and tugged my elbow, but sense prevailed and I planted my feet firmly on the floor.
“I need my clothes!” I’d been wearing the same bloodstained sundress for twenty-four hours and I wanted it off.
“I’ll come back for them. Let’s go.” He pulled again and I grabbed on to the door to halt my slow slide into the hallway.
The way he said it, how adamant he was, pricked my spidey sense, and I jerked away.
“Is someone in there?” I asked, suddenly afraid.
“No, no,” he said. “Let’s just go.”
“What is it then? What’s in there?” I stepped back out of his reach as he grabbed for me, then spun on my heel and headed for the bedroom. Had someone broken in? Taken anything?
“Sage, wait!”
He reached again for me but I evaded his grasp, stopping short in the doorway to my bedroom, my jaw agape.
I couldn’t tell what it was, or what it had been, but there was a mutilated lump of fur in the middle of my blood-soaked bedspread.
For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone had punched me in the gut. Then abruptly it changed to my gut deciding to make an appearance. I bolted for the bathroom.
Parker muttered a curse but I was already slamming the door shut and kneeling next to the toilet. Good thing I’d only had coffee today.
Not that it seemed to matter to my stomach, as images of the blood pooling on my quilt ran through my mind. I’d gotten that linen set at Restoration Hardware. And it hadn’t been cheap. And now some little furry thing’s innards were all over it—
I heaved again and felt my hair pulled back away from my face. My humiliation was complete. My ex-boss was holding back my hair as I puked. I’d averted this particular awkwardness in New York when we’d gone there together and I’d imbibed too much booze one night. So much for my dignity, currently being flushed into the Chicago sewer system.
“I’m fine,” I managed, trying to catch my breath.
“Yeah, I can see that.” He held a washcloth by my face and I took it, wiping my mouth and lowering the toilet lid. I felt heat creep up my neck into my cheeks and knew I had to be turning bright red. Lovely. I’d match the blood on my bed, I thought somewhat hysterically.
Parker helped me to my feet. I was shaking from shock and from being sick. I didn’t throw up delicately, but what with my father would say was “gusto.”
“Lean on me,” he said, sliding a supporting arm around my waist.
I could’ve pushed him away, but then I’d just fall on my ass, so I let him help me to the sink. Turning on the tap, I let the water run, splashing some on my face.
I’m okay. I can handle this.
“Of course you can,” Parker said, making me realize I’d been muttering aloud.
Looking up in the mirror, I saw him standing behind me. My cheeks were paper white, my hair a bedraggled mess, and my dress wrinkled and stained. Our eyes met and he stared calmly into the reflection, his hands cupping my shoulders.
I’d nearly lost him.
My face crumpled and the nervous breakdown I’d been holding back decided it was done waiting for the appropriate moment. It shoved its way forward and set up camp.
Ugly Crying was right up there next to Puking on my list of Things No One Besides My Mother Needs To See. Not that I supposed it mattered when I was bawling so hard I couldn’t catch my breath and snot was coming out of my nose.
Parker turned me around and pulled me into his uninjured side, his arms circling me and holding me tight. I’d been strong all night—taking care of my mom, Dad’s business, and Parker’s job
—and it felt so good to lean on someone else. Especially when that someone else was Parker, alive and whole.
“It’s all right,” he murmured in my ear, his hand sliding through my hair to cup my scalp. “You’re going to be fine. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I promise.”
The promise, spoken in that low raspy whisper of his, calmed me down. I didn’t think for that moment, I just felt—his chest rising and falling with his breath, the fuzzy warm feeling inside me at what he’d said, the way his hand was large enough to cover half my head. It all felt so good and so…right.
Which was dangerous territory.
“Thanks,” I said, my voice thick from crying. I stepping out of his embrace, turning back to the sink and grabbing a towel to sponge off my face. “We should probably call the cops. Can you take care of that? I want to change and I’ll be out.”
I could feel his gaze on me in the mirror, but I carefully avoided his eyes. I needed some distance. My feelings for Parker were too near the surface, and I didn’t trust his feelings for me.
After a moment, he left the bathroom, softly closing the door behind him.
I let out a breath, my eyes sliding shut as I leaned against the sink, giving up the pretense. But I couldn’t stay there, hiding in my bathroom. Parker was out there and there was still the dead furry thing to deal with.
I really hoped it wasn’t old Mrs. Judson’s cat. She lived a floor above me and that cat looked like it had been around since roughly the Eisenhower administration, just like Mrs. Judson.
When I came out of the bedroom, I’d changed into jeans and a T-shirt. I’d grabbed the first things I’d laid hands on in my closet, deliberately not looking at the bed.
I met Parker in the kitchen. He had my small suitcase sitting by the door.
“I packed some clothes for you and called the cops,” he said. “Ryker’s on his way.”
Shit. “Why Ryker?”
“At this point, who else?”
He had a point, but that didn’t mean I had to like it.
A set of uniformed cops led by Ryker in his plainclothes showed up not even ten minutes later.
“What, no Natalie?” I asked when he walked through the door. And yeah, I totally sounded bitchy.
Ryker shot me a look, which softened when he saw my swollen eyes and pale face. He stepped close to me.
“You okay?” he asked in an undertone.
His obvious concern took the bite out of my attitude.
I nodded, adding, “I’m not the one you should be worried about. Parker and my dad were the ones who got hurt. Someone is after my dad.”
“And you.”
I shot Parker a glare—the last thing I needed was him and Ryker teaming up to go all bodyguard on me.
“We’re already running the bullets through ballistics,” Ryker said. “Hopefully, we’ll pull up a match. In the meantime, someone broke into your apartment. You’re not safe here alone.”
“She’s going to stay at my place,” Parker oh-so-helpfully threw in.
Ryker’s brows climbed to his hairline, but he didn’t protest. He just nodded. “Okay then. I guess I’ll know where to find you.”
He turned away but I snagged his sleeve. “What are you going to do about Natalie?” I asked.
“I’m going to help her find Jessie,” he said.
“Ryker…” I hesitated. “I don’t think you should trust her.”
His face went blank. “It’s really none of your business,” he said flatly. “I’m here on an investigation about you. You should focus on your own problems and not worry about mine.”
Well. That was a big ol’ brush off and fuck you wrapped into one. It felt like I’d been slapped and for once in my life, I didn’t know what to say. It hurt.
“Natalie already has you being a complete dick,” Parker growled. “You’re older and supposedly wiser. Try to remember that.”
The CSI guy came out of my bedroom and tapped Ryker on the shoulder to show him something. An animal collar with a tag.
It was Mrs. Judson’s cat—or had been—and I insisted on being the one to go tell her, which was even more awful than I’d feared.
She answered the door in her pink housecoat. I’d never seen her wear anything else. She was about a foot shorter than me, and no one had ever been able to ascertain her age, although she looked as if she could be anywhere from about seventy to ninety. I haltingly told her about her cat, trying to find the right words to explain without going into unnecessary gory detail.
“But…why would someone do that?” she asked, blinking her tear-filled eyes behind her thick glasses. “He was my cat. Not yours.”
“I don’t know,” I said, which was perfectly true. Guilt crawled up my throat because obviously I was to blame. “But I promise, I’ll get you another cat.”
“I don’t want another cat,” she said. “I want Morris.” The tears she’d been blinking back slid down her cheeks then and she pressed her lips together and closed the door on me without another word. I didn’t blame her. If someone had killed my pet, I’d be pretty angry, too.
“Well, that was just the capper on a real shitty twenty-four hours,” I said to Parker, who’d insisted on coming with me.
“C’mon,” he said, taking my hand. “Let’s go.”
I didn’t resist letting him lead me from the building. The cops were still busy in my apartment and I knew I’d have that lovely yellow police tape over my door yet again. I was becoming That Girl in the building.
“Have you seen that girl lately? You won’t believe what’s happened to her now.” “I heard that girl was in trouble again.”
I was the most excitement the building had seen since Prohibition.
Parker held the car door for me and I slid inside. I thought I should offer to drive since he was hurt, but one glance at the hard planes of his face and I knew that wouldn’t be happening. I fought to stay awake, but was lulled to sleep before we even hit the freeway.
The slowing of the car woke me and I blinked a few times, trying to figure out where I was. I’d reached that state of exhaustion where I was confused and it took me a good ten seconds to process where I was and get back up to speed.
Clouds had rolled in and a cold rain was falling, making it seem later than it was even though it was only midafternoon. Parker pulled into the parking garage and it didn’t take long for him to navigate to his designated spot. He grabbed my small suitcase from the back and took my elbow again as we headed for the elevator.
We didn’t speak, but I didn’t mind. I was too tired to talk and there was a lot rolling through my head. So much had happened in the past few days. I’d thought I was done with both Parker and Ryker and now they were back in my life, along with Natalie and whatever she was up to. I could vividly picture the way she’d looked at Parker and it made me deeply uneasy. Add to that someone trying to kill both my dad and me…well, a shot of scotch sounded like just the thing.
Parker must’ve read my mind, because once we’d entered his apartment, that’s the first thing he did. After pouring an inch of amber liquid into two cut-crystal glasses, he handed one to me.
“Cheers,” he said, clinking his glass against mine, then downed the scotch in one swallow.
I did the same, the liquid burning like fire. I coughed, trying to get air past the inferno inside my throat. Parker’s scotch made taking a shot of vodka look like sipping white zinfandel.
“You all right?” He slapped me on the back a few times as I finished choking on air. “Maybe should’ve gone a little slower on that.”
I couldn’t yet speak so I shot him a look. Ya think? He chuckled, the corner of his mouth twisting upward.
“So I have this theory,” he said, grabbing the bottle and refilling his own glass.
“About what?” I sounded three-pack-a-day and cleared my throat again, hoping the liquor hadn’t done permanent damage. Glancing behind me, I sank onto Parker’s soft leather couch with a sigh. My whole body thanked me.
“About us.”
Shit. Not a topic of conversation I wanted to address right now.
“Do you want to hear it?” he asked.
Not really. “Do I have a choice?”
“I think that you wanted me…so long as I didn’t want you.”
I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. He watched me, calmly sipping his scotch. Finally, I found my voice.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I growled. “Do you have any idea how insulting what you just said to me was?”
“I’m not trying to insult you,” he said. “I think you’re afraid. Wanting something unobtainable is safe, isn’t it? Then you don’t really have to face the choices and changes and commitments that come with loving someone and them loving you back.”
“How about it’s the fact that you never looked at me twice until Ryker came along? You tell me you love me, make love to me, all in the heat of thinking Ryker wanted me, too. Then you dumped me, then decided you’d made a mistake, then I thought you were dead. And now Natalie’s back.” I shook my head. “There’s nothing about our relationship that I trust right now.”
Parker’s face was a blank mask, but his eyes…his eyes burned.
“Do you trust that I’ll keep you safe?”
Keeping me alive was a point of honor for Parker and I knew him well enough to know he’d do everything in his power to make sure nothing happened to me. I gave him a slow nod.
“I do, yes.”
“What can I do to convince you what we have is real, Sage? That I’m not being fickle and like a child with a toy, only wanting you when Ryker did. I would’ve died for you last night.”
Ouch. The man had a point. He’d taken a bullet for me, after all. Hard to argue with that.
“I know, but I can’t snap my fingers and make my doubts disappear, Parker. They’re there, and I can’t tell you a magic formula to make them go away.” I looked away, unable to stare into the blue of his eyes any longer. My own were starting to water. I hadn’t been prepared for this kind of conversation, mentally or emotionally.
“Fair enough,” he said, and I heard him set down his glass. “Deirdre left things for me to heat up. I’ll stick something in the oven to heat while we get some rest. I’m tired and you have to be about dead on your feet.”