Standing in the Shadows m&f-2

by Shannon McKenna

  "Cindy? Oh, thank God. I've been so worried—"

  "Look, Erin, don't give me a hard time, OK?"

  Connor pushed the speakerphone button, and Cindy's anxious voice filled the room, high-pitched and fuzzy and distorted by the tiny speaker. "I've got enough problems without one of your lectures."

  Erin suppressed a sharp reply. She couldn't afford for Cindy to hang up in a huff. "I won't give you a hard time," she said. "I just care about you. You scared me the last time you called, that's all."

  Cindy sniffed. "Sorry. Um, what's up with Mom? I called her, and the phone was disconnected. And she's been so weird lately. Like, what is up with that?"

  "I don't know yet," Erin said. "I'm trying to figure that out myself, and I could really use your help."

  "Um, yeah. I guess. Look. Don't tell Mom about me and Billy and me being in the city, OK? She might wig out even more, you know?"

  Connor shoved a piece of paper in front of her face with ADDRESS? scribbled on it.

  "Where are you, Cin?" she asked.

  "Um… I'm not really sure. I've never been here before last night. It's a big, fancy house with nice furniture and stuff, but all I can see outside the window are bushes. I don't know what neighborhood I'm in."

  "You didn't notice when you arrived?"

  "I was kind of out of it when we got here last night," Cindy admitted.

  Erin struggled to stay calm. "Well, how about you look around for a magazine, or a piece of mail that might have an address on it?"

  "I'm in the bedroom now. Billy's downstairs with Tasha. He'd be mad if he knew I was calling you."

  Panic fluttered. "What's going on, Cindy? Are you scared of him?"

  Cindy hesitated. "Um, I don't know," she said in a tiny voice. "It's weird. He's… he's different today."

  "Different how?"

  "Oh, I don't know. Cold, like he's impatient with me. He wasn't like that before. He made me feel stupid, because I didn't want to go out on another job tonight. He says I'm being a baby, and I guess I kind of am, but… I don't know. It's just so different today."

  Erin's knees gave out like Jell-O. She slid down against the wall, her bottom connecting with the floor with a painful thump. "What job?"

  Connor sank down into a crouch in front of her, listening intently. He laid his warm hand on her knee.

  "Promise me you won't flip, because I swear it's no big deal, OK?"

  Erin tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. "I promise."

  "Well, I've been, urn, dancing. Like exotic dancing, but not really, because I—"

  "Oh, God, Cin."

  "You promised, Erin. I only stripped to my thong. And it was for private parties, not at a club, and Billy's always with me, so I never—"

  "Parties? Plural?"

  "Yeah. We did three bachelor parties, me and another girl. We made six hundred dollars apiece. It's like, incredible money, and Billy said it was OK if I kept on my thong, since Tasha doesn't mind dancing totally nude, so… urn, and Billy said he'll beat the shit out of anyone who touches us, so it's really no big deal. You know?"

  Erin's voice had tightened to a squeaky thread. "Sweetie. Just tell me. Are you OK?"

  Cindy paused. "I don't know," she whispered. "It's weird. Yesterday I was fine. Maybe I was just drunk. We did shots of Southern Comfort with Billy first, and it really loosened me up. I felt great when I was dancing, like a total goddess. I felt like the whole world loved me. But today… I have this monster headache, and it's all so different. Billy's different, I'm different. It's wild."

  "And can't you just say you want to go home?" Erin demanded. "Just walk out the door?"

  "I did," Cindy admitted. "I tried. But Billy said it was too late. He's already got the gigs lined up and he says I can't be a prima donna bitch baby and bail out on him now, because he's, like, a professional, so I have to be, too, and…" Cindy's voice degenerated into tears.

  "Cin," Erin said desperately. "You've got to find out the address so I can come and get you."

  "Wait. Oh, God. That's Billy on the stairs. I gotta go."

  The connection broke. Cindy was gone.

  Erin looked up at Connor, wild-eyed. "What is going on? I don't know what fire to put out first! What am I supposed to do?"

  Connor's eyes were grim. He held out his hand. "Give me back that cell phone. Let's see what Sean's got for us."

  He dialed. "Hey. So?" He listened intently for a moment. "Yeah. We just got a call from her. It's a bad scene. She's in a house she's never seen, doesn't know the address, and Fuckhead won't let her leave." He listened for a moment. "OK, fine. Jacey's Diner. We'll be there in twenty minutes."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Connor surveyed the poorly lit, dirty stairwell with growing dislike. The place wasn't good enough for Erin. She wasn't safe here.

  She'd be better off in his house.

  The idea appeared fully formed in his mind, and stole his breath. He'd been living purely in the moment This was the first time he'd dared, even for a moment, to project this thing he had with her into the future. He pushed open the front door, sweeping the block with suspicious eyes and taking note of everyone and everything he saw.

  He made a mental note to call Seth and do something about her security. Or rather, her complete lack thereof. She might as well pitch a tent in a parking lot.

  Erin fell into step beside him on the sidewalk, and he shortened his stride to match hers. There were haunted shadows under her eyes. He wanted to do something flashy and impressive to chase away those shadows. Slay a dragon, fight a duel, whatever it took.

  He took hold of her hand. She glanced up, and her slender, chilly fingers curled trustingly around his. Her shy smile flashed out, like a flash of rainbow-split light from a crystal hung in a sunny window. Wham, all the colors that existed, in one bright, blinding rush.

  And she was his lover now. His groin tightened at the thought.

  "What is Sean doing at Jacey's?" she asked him. "That place is a health hazard."

  "Stoking up on evil coffee and jelly doughnuts," Connor replied. "Sean has theories on how different types of coffee are appropriate for different activities. Hunting pimp assholes calls for gritty, hard-core Jacey's Diner coffee, something that's been sitting on the burner all night long. Starbucks is for nibbling a hazelnut scone, sipping a mocha latte, flirting with cute girls. It's the wrong vibe for serious business. Sean's kind of hyper, so coffee is his natural drug of choice."

  He was rewarded for his nonsense by another smile, and it fired him up, made him famished for more of them.

  "Speaking of drugs of choice." She shot him a curious glance. "You haven't touched your cigarettes in a long time."

  He shrugged. "I must've been distracted by all the other mind-altering substances that my glands have been pumping into my bloodstream lately. You do a number on my endocrine system, baby."

  She laughed. "How romantic. Have you smoked for a long time?"

  His mouth opened up, and the words fell out. "Want me to quit?" He was making a lovesick ass of himself, but that was just too bad. He was hardwired for the grand romantic gesture.

  Her eyes went wide with alarm. "Good Lord," she murmured. "Are you sure you want to?"

  He fished the tobacco and the papers out of his coat pocket and held them over a Dumpster on the corner. "Say the word," he said. "I know I should quit. Everybody who smokes knows they should quit. I just never particularly cared before. Give me a good reason."

  It was worth it ten times over, just for that fleeting moment that her face lost the haunted look and cute little dents appeared at the corners of her mouth. "OK," she said. "Quit, Connor."

  He let go. The bag thudded into the Dumpster. "Quitting will be a piece of cake with you around," he told her. "I might have some nicotine fits, but I know exactly what to do about my oral fixation."

  She giggled, and her fingers tightened around his.

  "I have to call Seth today, after we take care of our other business," he said. "I
want him to come check out your locks."

  "Connor, you know that I can't afford to—"

  "Even under normal circumstances, that place would be unsafe for you, Erin. And I'm going to have a talk with your landlord about the front door lock. Does he live in the building?"

  "Are you kidding?" She looked worried. "Please, don't. I spent the whole month of January with no hot water because I had the bad judgment to complain about the bugs."

  He scowled. "You should move out of that dump."

  "To where? I can't afford anything better right now, and besides—"

  "Move in with me," he said.

  Her eyes went huge and scared. His heart sank like a stone.

  He'd fucked up, evidently, but now he had to follow through to the grim finish. "It's a nice place," he said, trying to sound casual. "It's paid for. Two spare bedrooms. One can be your office. For your business."

  Her mouth made an "oh" shape, but no sound came out.

  He plodded grimly on. "I remodeled the kitchen a few years back. There's a yard for your cat. It's a quiet block. And I'm a pretty good cook. Ask Sean about my chili."

  Yeah. Plenty of room in my king-sized bed every night. Underneath me, on top of me, all over me. That long hair spread out over my pillows.

  They had arrived at the car. Connor unlocked her door. She got in and gazed up, her mouth forming and discarding words. "Uh… Connor? We've only been lovers for two days."

  "I know what I like," he said.

  She caught her soft lower lip between her teeth. "Maybe you should slow down," she said earnestly. "Before you make any more big pronouncements and sweeping gestures. It's incredibly sweet of you to offer, but it's just… it's… maybe you should think about it."

  He gestured at the shapely ankle that still dangled outside the door. She pulled it inside. "I've been thinking about it for ten years," he said. He slammed her door shut by way of punctuation.

  He was ashamed of himself by the time he got into the car. She stared into her lap as he started up the engine, her face hidden by the dark, thick fall of hair. "I'm sorry," he said. "I won't pressure you."

  "OK. Thanks."

  Hell. What technique. He might just as well have proposed marriage on the spot. He'd already invited her to have his baby. What was the perfect way to distract a woman from her personal problems?

  Pile some brand new ones on top of them.

  Erin was struck mute for the rest of the drive.

  Connor pulled into the Jacey's Diner lot. He didn't take her hand as they walked toward the entrance. Her hand felt chilly and abandoned, swinging there on its own.

  An astonishingly handsome young man with dark blond hair and a black leather jacket burst out of the diner. Erin took one look at his lean face and wide-set, tilted green eyes, the same glacial lake shade as Connor's, and knew he had to be Sean McCloud.

  Sean's jaw sagged. "Holy shit. Look at you." A delighted grin spread over his face as he circled his brother. He poked Connor's chest, palpated his shoulder, slapped his butt. "Only two days, and look at you! You've gained weight, you've got color. You've even shaved." He lifted a lock of Connor's hair. "And your hair doesn't look like it was chewed off by mice anymore." He sniffed the lock of hair. "Jesus. You're even perfumed. With girly stuff. Will wonders never cease."

  He turned around and gave Erin an appraising look, which she returned without flinching. She'd been in training for two days with Connor. She knew how to stand up to intense male scrutiny by now.

  Sean nodded, as if satisfied. "So you're Erin. The princess in the enchanted tower."

  "Sean," Connor growled. "Don't."

  "Don't what?" Sean stuck out his hand to her. "You see that shirt he's wearing?" he asked her. "I got him that shirt."

  She shook his hand. "You, uh, have excellent taste," she offered.

  "Yes, I know," Sean replied. "Lucky for him, or he'd be wearing nothing but thrift-store rejects. I love him, but he's a fashion disaster."

  A big, black Ford pickup pulled up in front of them. A man got out who could only be the third McCloud brother; he was just as tall, but bigger and broader, thickly muscled beneath his fleece sweatshirt and jeans. His hair was close-cropped, his face craggy and hard, but he had the same strange, penetrating eyes as his two brothers.

  He didn't say a word, just stared at Connor for a long moment. A huge grin cracked his face. "Hey, Con. Lookin' good."

  "Hi, Davy," Connor said. "I didn't know you were in on this party."

  "Didn't want to miss the fun." Davy turned his penetrating stare onto Erin. "So you're her, then."

  "I'm who?" she asked cautiously.

  Davy smiled and held out his hand. "You're good for him," he said calmly. "I like this. This works. Stick around."

  "She doesn't have any choice," Connor said. "She's stuck with me until Novak's back in custody."

  "And that's just how you like it, ain't it?" Sean turned his grin back upon Erin. "You know what? I could tell you stories about this pigheaded son of a bitch that would make your hair stand on end."

  "But you won't," Connor broke in. "Because we've got other things to talk about today. Like Cindy."

  "There'll be other opportunities." Sean gave him an evil grin. "Now that you have a girlfriend, you're going to be so self-conscious. Baiting you will be ten times the fun."

  She giggled, in spite of Connor's scowl. "I can hardly wait. I would love to hear stories about Connor."

  "But not today, thank God," Connor said sourly. "You're more manic than usual today, Sean, and that's really saying something."

  "Give me a break. I just pulled an all-nighter in the stews of Seattle," Sean said. "I'm flying on caffeine and nerves."

  "Did you meet anybody who knows Billy Vega?" Davy demanded.

  "Oh, I did better than that," Sean said. "I met Miles." He knocked on the passenger door of a mud-spattered silver Jeep Cherokee. "Yo, Miles," he called. "Stop being a dweeb. Get out here and be sociable."

  The Jeep door opened. A long, lanky figure slithered out and unfolded itself. Even hunched over like a vulture he was impossibly tall, thin and pallid, with long, snarled black hair and round glasses perched on his hooked nose. He was dressed in a dusty black Goth frock coat.

  He lifted his shoulders, let them drop back down. "Hey."

  Sean winked at Erin. "Miles doesn't get out much. He's been hiding in the basement for a little too long, but he's a great guy. Miles, let me introduce you to my brother Davy, my brother Connor, and his girlfriend, Erin. Who also happens to be Cindy's big sister."

  Miles's dark eyes lit up. "Really? Cool. You're, like, almost as hot as Cindy." He realized what he'd just said, and his eyes froze open behind the magnifying lenses of his glasses. "Uh, that is, I didn't mean—"

  "Thank you, Miles," she said gently. She held out her hand. "How sweet of you to say so."

  He blinked rapidly as he shook it, as if unused to the light of day. Erin looked up at the three brothers. Meaningful glances and telepathic messages whizzed over her head. She turned back to Miles, who looked at least as bewildered as she felt. "Would somebody please explain to me what you gentlemen have been up to?"

  "Let's get a booth," Sean said. "I was just in there, doing recon. It's perfect. There's a pissed-off waitress with big hair, and a tray full of surreal jelly doughnuts. And the coffee is a sure thing. Instant ulcer."

  Erin looked around in trepidation as they filed in. "I should've brought my own cup," she murmured, sliding into the booth.

  "Nah," Sean scoffed. "Get into it. The risk of food poisoning is part of the thrill."

  Connor slid into the booth next to her, draping a possessive arm over her shoulders. The waitress flung menus onto the table, sloshed coffee into their cups, and flounced away without a backward glance.

  "Excuse me, miss?" Sean called after her. "Doughnuts for everyone, please."

  The waitress scowled back over her shoulder. Sean dimpled at her. She stopped, turned, did a double take, and smiled back at
him.

  "OK," Connor said. "So let's have it. What did you find out?"

  "Well, I investigated the babe lair, and Lord, is that house ever pulsing with feminine pulchritude," Sean said. "They didn't have much hard info for me, but the blonde with the red thong undies suggested—"

  "How did you know she had red thong undies?" Erin demanded.

  Sean fluttered his lashes innocently over the rim of his cup. "Because she was wearing skin-tight white palazzo pants," he explained. "As I was saying, she suggested that I talk to the Vicious Rumors, Cindy's R&B band. She even tracked down their phone numbers for me, that sweet, helpful curry-haired cutie. What's her name again, Miles?"

  "Victoria."

  "Victoria. Yeah. Yum. Then there was the redhead with the eyebrow ring and the see-through black blouse. She was the one who—"

  "See-through blouse? She came to the door in a see-through blouse, at Endicott Falls Christian College?" Erin was scandalized.

  "Oh, she wasn't wearing the blouse when I arrived," Sean hastened to assure her. "She went upstairs and changed into it after I got there. Nice bra, too. I know it well. Victoria's Secret, spring collection. Black satin push-up demi bra. A good choice for the blouse."

  Connor sighed. "You animal."

  "Ignore him," Davy advised her. "He's just trying to impress you."

  But Erin was already stifling helpless giggles, with both hands over her mouth. "Oh, God. I sent a wolf to a house full of lambs."

  Sean snorted. "Lambs, my ass. Foxes is more like it. Don't worry, they're too young for me, but that's no reason not to ogle their underwear, now is it? But I stray from the point—"

  "I'll say," Connor said.

  "See-through blouse—what was her name?" Sean turned to Miles, snapping his fingers.

  "Caitlin," Miles supplied.

  "Caitlin, yeah. She told me about Miles, and the Rumors lead guitarist found his parents' address for me. And when I breached the basement fortress and saw Miles's screen saver, I knew he was my man."

  "What screen saver?" Erin asked.

  "A four-second video clip of Cindy, blowing a kiss. Over and over," Sean said. "It took my breath away."

  Miles hunched down between his hulking shoulders. "Jeez. Don't tell people that stuff," he mumbled. "It's private."