Line Of Fire

by KB Winters

  Dylan was behind the bar and perked up at my grand entrance. His eyebrows arched as I made a beeline for the bar. “Em? What’s going on?”

  “I need to use your phone.”

  He pulled a phone from his back pocket and handed it over. “What’s wrong?”

  “I just watched two guys break into my diner!” I started scrolling through the phone to dial 911.

  Dylan snapped the phone back from me.

  “Hey!”

  He leaned in, his eyes blazing. “No cops, Em. I’ll handle it.”

  “Dylan, I . . .”

  He didn’t listen. He strode to the back door of the pub that led out into the same alley, and I raced to follow him. “Dylan!” I hissed.

  He turned and held a finger to his lips.

  I hung back as he as he tiptoed next door and pushed into the diner’s back room. Shouts sounded and sent my heart racing furiously. I crept forward and looked inside. The light in the office had been turned on and showed the silhouette of Dylan—at least a head taller than both men—throwing one of the men into the wall. He delivered a kick to the gut of the man as he crumpled to the floor before rounding on the second and knocking him down with a blow to the head.

  My heart thundered so loudly in my ears that I couldn’t hear anything but the frantic beat of each pump. When both men were down, I moved into the back room. Dylan spun around to face me, his breathing coming just as quickly. “Do you know these men?” He flicked on the overhead lights, and I saw the two bloody-faced men on the floor. One of them didn’t stir, his eyes closed. The second was trying to get up but clutched at the place in his gut where Dylan had kicked him. He moaned with the effort.

  I shook my head. “I don’t know their names, but they look familiar. Probably from the pub.”

  The expression on Dylan’s face made me suck in a quick breath. Every muscle had tensed, and his eyes went so dark they nearly looked black when he met my gaze. “I want you to go upstairs and under no circumstances are you to come back down. Do you understand?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Dylan

  Emma tried to argue with me, but I silenced her and sent her on her way. The last thing I needed was her getting tangled up in any violence. She’d already seen too much. I shuddered at the thought of what might have happened if she’d been waiting in the back room of the diner when these two assholes burst in. Were they here to hurt her? Or would they have retreated once they realized the target wasn’t empty?

  I didn’t know, but I was damn sure going to find out. No one was getting through Emma. Not while I was here.

  As soon as Emma left, I moved to lock the back door and then returned to the two men. One was still knocked out cold. The blow to his head hadn’t been enough to kill him. I’d been careful to not use that amount of force. The second likely had a couple of broken ribs. Maybe even a punctured lung based on the ragged breaths coming between moans as he tried to get away from me. I placed a boot on his hand and crouched down. “Leaving so soon?”

  He spat and blood poured from the punch he’d taken to the jaw before I sent him to the ground. “Please—”

  “Please?” I scoffed. “Fuck, I haven’t even gotten started yet, and you’re already begging me for mercy?”

  I relaxed the pressure on his hand and moved to take one of the folding chairs positioned along the wall. “How about this,” I started, leaning forward. “You stay right where you are, answer my questions, and maybe—just maybe—I’ll let you walk out of here.”

  The man’s eyes shifted to his fallen comrade in silent question.

  “He’s fine. Probably a concussion. Nothing a few days rest won’t cure. That is, if we have a deal.”

  He nodded and swallowed hard. “What d-do ya want to know?”

  “Let’s start with who you are and what the fuck you’re doing here.”

  The man looked left again and refused to meet my eyes. I launched from the chair and in one swift movement, grabbed the man by the hair and jerked his head up to look at me. “Who. Are. You? I’m not going to ask again.”

  “Earl,” he said.

  “Earl what?”

  “Perkins.”

  “And him?”

  “Randy Jesper.”

  “And what are you doing here?”

  “We heard—we heard Tommy Gallagher’s dead.” I released his hair, and his chin smacked the cement floor with a satisfying thud. He cursed—probably bit his tongue—and then continued, “He owed us some money.”

  “So...what? You thought you’d just wander down here, break into his restaurant, and take it?”

  The man was silent a beat too long.

  “What about his widow? What were you going to do if she was here? Trying to fucking live her life and pick up the pieces? You gonna shake her down, too?”

  Earl’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “My family owns this whole fucking building. You know that? So that means you’re stealing from me. I could beat the shit out of you and no one would blame me. You’re trespassing on my property. Stealing from me. Threatening a woman and her child’s livelihood? I probably should.”

  The second man—Randy—stirred. He moaned as he moved to sit up. His eyes were disoriented and dazed.

  “Answer me,” I snapped at Earl. “What would you have done?”

  He moved and held up one hand. “We wouldn’t—we, we waited. We saw her go.”

  My blood boiled at the thought of the pair of low life thugs watching, spying on Emma while she worked. Fuck. How long had she been there alone? Vulnerable?

  “Why did Tommy owe you money?” I asked, my eyes on Randy while I spoke to Earl. I’d patted them both down for weapons once they were on the ground. Randy was carrying a Glock in the waistband of his jeans. It now sat on the filing cabinet, unloaded.

  “It was from a poker game.”

  I shook my head. “Try again.”

  Earl looked at Randy, who blinked a few times and then jolted. He pushed up and reached around, looking for his gun. I grabbed it from the filing cabinet and pointed it at him. “Looking for something?”

  “Fuck you, man!”

  I shook my head. “Manners, sunshine. I realize you just got knocked around a little, but you do realize that I’m the one holding the gun. Don’t you?”

  Earl reached over and tugged at Randy’s pants. “Chill man. Just do what he says, and we can go.” He looked back at me. “Right?”

  “Tell me what the money was from.”

  Earl swore under his breath. “I told you. It was a poker game. There used to be these damn poker nights at the bar next door. Tommy was always there. He thought he was the big man on campus, but he was shit at cards. Couldn’t hold his fucking liquor, either.”

  I growled at him, “Get to the fucking point.”

  “I won a pot, and he held it back. Said I could come get it last week, but when I showed up, he said he didn’t have it. Next thing I know, he’s dead. I knew he had a safe here so I figured I’d come get what was mine. It’s as simple as that. I swear.”

  Randy rubbed the side of his jaw and nodded. “He’s telling you the truth.”

  “How much?” I asked, my eyes on Earl.

  “Twenty G’s.”

  Despite my best efforts my eyes went wide.

  Earl gave a dry laugh. “Yeah.”

  “And you think he has that much here in his safe?”

  Earl nodded. “That’s what everyone said. He doesn’t trust banks.”

  I frowned. It didn’t sound like Tommy. At least not the Tommy I knew, but according to Emma he’d changed a lot.

  “All right, I’ll let you both walk out of here, no more damage to your ugly mugs, and we’ll call it square.”

  Randy started to argue, and I leveled the gun at him again. “I hear one word about you sniffing around his widow or her kid and I’ll hunt you down and shove this thing up your ass and pull the trigger. Got it?”

  Earl crumpled a
nd nodded his agreement. “We’ll drop it.”

  Randy growled his dissent, but Earl silenced him with an ugly look.

  “Good.” I stood and kicked over the chair I’d been sitting in. “Now get the fuck out of here.”

  Earl pushed to his feet, still hunched in the middle. Randy hauled himself up, and the two of them hobbled for the door, shooting glares back at me before they slipped out into the night. Once they were gone I kicked over the second flimsy chair and tore my hands through my hair. “Fuck, Tommy, what the hell did you do?”

  ***

  Emma was waiting in the alley.

  “Damn, Em!” I hissed after nearly plowing her over. “What are you doing out here? I told you to go upstairs and lock the fuckin’ door!”

  She straightened, looking two inches taller than a moment before. Her shoulders rolled down and back. “I lost someone too, Dylan. I have just as much right to know what’s going on as you do!”

  I didn’t argue. As much as I wanted to shake her and tell her she was putting herself in danger by standing outside, I couldn’t. Instead, I gathered her into my arms. My hand went to the back of her head, and I instantly sank my fingers into the silky strands of her hair. “Are you all right?”

  She nodded against my chest. “You?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did they want?”

  “Money. Said Tommy owed them some gambling debt.”

  Emma bristled. “Shit.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I took care of it.”

  She moved her chin so it was pressed into my chest as she looked up at me. “How much was it?”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s settled.”

  “How much, Dylan?”

  I chuckled. “I forgot you were so stubborn.”

  Emma narrowed her eyes and landed a light punch against my side, right under my ribs.

  “Damn, woman!” I said with a snort.

  She didn’t crack a smile. “Tell me.”

  “All right.” I frowned down at her. “Twenty G’s.”

  Her eyes flew open wider than I’d ever seen them as she jumped away from me. “Twenty thousand dollars?” A hand moved to cover her mouth, and she paced away from me. When she spun back around there were tears sliding down her face. “What is happening, Dylan? How did any of this happen?”

  “I don’t know.” I reached for her, but she backed out of my reach.

  “Is this why he was killed? Over some gambling bullshit?”

  “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

  “How am I ever going to explain this to my son? How can I ever tell him this horrible story?”

  I moved toward her and took her into my arms. She didn’t resist this time. “You don’t have to, Em. Let him hold onto the memories he has. He doesn’t need to know about all this shit.”

  “How am I going to come up with that kind of money? I barely have enough in the bank to pay rent this month.”

  “You’re not paying rent this month, Em. On the diner or the apartment.”

  She sniffed. “I have to.”

  “I’ll take care of it. As for the twenty thousand, I already handled it.”

  Emma stared up at me, her expression twisted with confusion. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t worry about it, all right? Let me take care of you.”

  The words pained me. Like a sharp stick digging into an old wound.

  “Is this because of the other night? Because we slept together?”

  “No!” I winced at the boom in my voice. “No,” I repeated, softer. “It has nothing to do with that. I shouldn’t have even let that happen.”

  Emma frowned. “It’s not like you forced me.”

  “I crossed a line, Em.”

  “We crossed a line.”

  I gave a nod and looked past her to the softly lit parking lot. “Come on. Let’s get you upstairs.”

  She didn’t argue as I wrapped an arm around her waist and led her into the building. Memories of the night before mixed with the remnants of adrenaline in my system and I removed my arm from her. I couldn’t touch her without wanting to fuck her. Especially after the taste I’d had a few nights ago. I couldn’t let it happen again. It’d been bad enough at Tommy’s funeral, listening to the priest refer to Emma as the devoted wife, knowing I’d had her days before.

  “You still at your mom’s?” I asked her when we reached the end of the hall.

  She nodded. “Just for a few more days. I’ve been leaving really early to get down to the diner and don’t like the idea of leaving Tommy alone in the apartment. This way he’s with my mom and Kate if he needs anything after I’ve gone. My mom’s been getting him ready for school and all since I’m down at the diner early.”

  “Are you going to hire some help?”

  Emma shrugged. “I’ll try. In the meantime, this works. Tommy loves staying with my mom and Kate. Even though it’s only across the hall, to him it’s something of a treat I suppose. And right now, he needs every little bit of sunshine he can get.”

  I pocketed my hands. “How’s he doing with everything?”

  She considered the door for a moment. “I’m not sure. He seems to be normal. Which is good, I suppose. Right?” She stopped and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’m always terrible with situations like this. I don’t know what to tell myself most of the time. How can I possibly help him?”

  I reached out and took hold of both her arms. “Em,” I waited till her eyes met mine. “You’re an amazing mom. Everyone tells me so. Give yourself some slack, all right?”

  She gave a quick nod. “Thanks for coming to help tonight, Dylan.”

  “You don’t have to thank me, Em.”

  “I know. But I’m going to anyway.”

  I chuckled softly. “There’s that stubborn streak again.”

  She laughed and more feelings washed over me. I’d forgotten how much I loved to make her laugh. There was a time when I’d have done anything to see her smile. Looking into her eyes and seeing that familiar glow, I realized that desire wasn’t so deeply buried, regardless of how many years it’d been.

  “Since you’re over here for the night, let me crash on your couch. That way I’ll be right across the hall if you need anything.”

  “You really don’t have to do that. We’re fine. My mom’s place has a security system and everything.”

  I held out my hand. “Give me the keys, Em. I’m not taking no for an answer.”

  She sighed and handed over a set of her keys.

  “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the little smile as she went into her mom’s apartment.

  Chapter Twelve

  Emma

  Since Tommy’s death, sleep had become a difficult feat. It was made even more impossible knowing that Dylan was right across the hall, sleeping on my couch. Tommy snuggled in beside me on the thin queen-size mattress that folded out from the couch. The apartment was only two bedrooms, and I hadn’t wanted to kick either my mom or Kate from their beds. We’d been there for a week, and I knew we’d be moving back to our apartment shortly. Now that Tommy’s funeral was off my plate I could focus on reworking the schedule at the diner so that I could stay home in the mornings and see Tommy off to school.

  For the third time since turning out the light, I threw the covers aside and slipped from the bed. I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water from the pitcher in the fridge. As I drank I tapped my nails on the counter. My gaze drifted to the door. Was Dylan awake, too? If he was, was he thinking about me? His words from before came back to me. In a way, I agreed with him. Sleeping together was probably not a good idea. I doubted we’d be able to find one person who would approve. Not even Kate. She liked to tease me about it, but when it came right down to it, I wasn’t sure what she’d say. I hadn’t confirmed the truth to her, but my sister was a smart girl—sometimes too smart—and she’d have put the pieces together after I’d chased after D
ylan following Jimmy’s wake and shortly after that, took my wedding ring off.

  I stared at the door wondering how long was long enough? If we wanted to be together would people be okay with it if we let time pass? And if so, how much time? Six months? A year? Longer?

  I finished the water and went back to bed. I tried to push the thoughts from my mind. Dylan wasn’t interested in starting something serious with me. I was recently widowed and had a five-year-old child. He was a Navy SEAL with the whole world to conquer. He wasn’t going to give that up to become an instant dad. Especially not when little Tommy was a permanent reminder of the way I’d hurt him all those years ago.

  Another hour ticked by, and I only became more restless. Tommy stirred beside me and mumbled something under his breath. His eyes remained closed and moments later he lulled back to sleep. I slid from the bed, wrapped a robe around myself, and tiptoed out of the apartment. I got to my door and realized I didn’t have a way in. I’d given my keys to Dylan. Wincing, I raised a hand and knocked softly. I told myself that if he didn’t answer I’d take that as a sign and leave it alone.

  Moments later, the door opened and Dylan stood there bare-chested. “Em? Is everything okay?”

  It was impossible not to stare at him. In the frenzied heat of the moment days before, I hadn’t taken the time to truly appreciate just how much he’d changed. His broad chest was filled out with smooth, rock-hard muscles that went all the way down his sculpted torso. He had a tattoo over his heart. Something navy-ish. I wanted to ask him what it meant, but I was speechless. His perfectly segmented abs led to the low waist of his boxer briefs, and when my eyes went that far south every cell in my body went on high alert. Heat tingled inside me, and my mind filled with a surge of flashbacks of the searing sensations given by his fingers and lips.

  I dragged my gaze back up to meet his. If he’d noticed me staring he didn’t show it. “I can’t sleep,” I told him.

  He nodded. “Do you want to come inside?”

  The question was loaded. We both knew it.