The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Alexander, S. B.

  I almost jumped out of the SUV at one of the stoplights, but I needed Dillon for more than a weapon. He’d proved to me that he had my back. He’d had Baldy watch over me, though I still wasn’t sure why. Dillon had distracted me from a person I’d called a creeper. He also had a soft side that told me he could be a good friend. He certainly was a good kisser. Most of all, my curiosity was piqued about who exactly Dillon was and what he did other than sell guns.

  Rafe pulled into a skinny driveway between two houses. Once he cut the engine, he and Baldy jumped out as if they had to put out a fire.

  “So, are we having a sleepover?” I asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “Do you want to sleep with me?” Dillon asked, searching me with his gaze much as Kelton had.

  I let out a nervous laugh. Maybe if my heart wasn’t for someone else. Although the last time I had been intimate with anyone was over a year ago with some guy I’d hung out with at a party. I remembered two things from that rendezvous. One, we’d agreed no names, and two, the sex had been surprisingly slow and sensual. The hunky guy wanted to take care of my needs first, which I thought was sweet considering we didn’t know each other. Usually, one-night stands were fast and furious.

  “Why am I here? I have a place to stay.” I glanced out at the two-car garage. “And you probably don’t want to do business with me anyway.”

  Leaning on the armrest that separated us, he rested his chin on the backs of his fingers. “A hostel. Are you broke?”

  Yep. “None of your business. And there’s nothing wrong with hostels.” The place was a hotel, just on the cheap side.

  “Tell me about Kelton Maxwell.” His gaze dropped to my lips.

  “You seem to know a lot about him. And me. Care to share?”

  He laughed. “I do my homework on people I’m about to do business with. And don’t forget—”

  “Yeah, Russian mob and all that. I get it. How did you get intel on me?”

  “Tell me how you know Kelton.”

  “For fuck’s sake. I’m not going to the Russian mob. I’m not marrying Kelton.” Although I always thought I would. “And, like you, my business is my own.” I jumped out of the car, slammed the door, and started for the street. I didn’t have time to discuss my life, and I didn’t care to. Plus my bladder was screaming at me now. Before we turned onto this street, I’d spotted a gas station at the corner. I headed in that direction.

  Three-tenement houses dotted the neighborhood, and cars were parked along the curbs. I had no idea where I was or how to get back to the hostel. I shoved my hands inside my jacket, tucked my chin to my chest, and set my sights on the Chevron station. Not surprisingly, the area was quiet at one in the morning. The bright lights of the main thoroughfare shone in the distance. Maybe I could get a cab back into the city or find the “T” after I used the ladies’ room. As I walked, I blew out all the anxiety that had built up inside me, and with it a lone tear escaped. I brushed it away, but all I wanted to do was curl up in my bed and have a good cry. But wallowing in my sorrows wasn’t going to get me my money back. Maybe I could seduce Terrance Malden into giving me what was mine. I scratched that idea. He’d probably use me and still take off with my million dollars. I could use a knife to threaten him instead of a gun. I could also take his son as a hostage. Now I was getting somewhere, although it would be easier to threaten Zach with a gun.

  I smiled at my newfound plan. I’d cozy up to Zach, get him into a place I could hold him hostage, then call his father and demand my money. If I did that, the cops would be involved. I would get arrested. On the other hand, if Terrance stole my money, he was breaking the law, too. So he wouldn’t involve the cops. Either plan involved a weapon. I had to turn around and make nice with Dillon. Well, after the gas station.

  I was a block from the bright Chevron sign when a car’s engine rumbled. I squinted at the headlights as the car wheeled slowly down the street toward me as though the driver was searching for a particular house. I was crossing over a driveway when the car braked in the middle of the street.

  “Hey, darling, do you know where I can find Dober Street?” a deep male voice asked.

  I kept my sights on the lighted sign, increasing my pace as the hackles on my neck rose. Maybe walking alone at the wee hours of the morning in an unknown town wasn’t such a great idea.

  You think? I silently screamed at my inner voice just as someone wolf-whistled.

  Taking longer strides, I peeked over my shoulder. A guy wearing a knit cap was hanging out of the car window, watching me. Beyond his car, I spied another vehicle coming toward us. With the bright lights in my face, I couldn’t make out if it was Dillon’s car or not, and I wasn’t hanging around to find out. When I turned back, I noticed a ring of rocks around a tree in the yard I was passing. I hastily grabbed one before continuing in the direction of the gas station.

  A car door shut, and two men argued while footsteps pounded the pavement. My adrenaline spiked, flooding my body. A male figure got closer. Instinct told me to run, but my screwed-up stubbornness wanted to throw the rock that was securely in my hand. In one beat, I whirled around and threw.

  The man ducked, shouting, “Fuck, Elizabeth!”

  “Dillon?” Dillon’s body came into view.

  “Girl, if you had a gun, I’d be dead.” He bit his lip, his wavy brown hair blowing in the wind.

  I snarled then spun on my heel for the gas station.

  “Wait. Where are you going?” He ran up to me.

  “I have to pee.” And puke. Then down a bottle of moonshine to coat my nerves.

  He laughed. “You can pee at my house.”

  Crossing the street and into the lot of the gas station, I snorted. Hearing Dillon say the word pee was funny. He came off as a pierced, long-haired badass. “Your house isn’t this close.” I pointed to the store. “Who were those guys in that car back there?”

  “Two morons trying to cause trouble. Rafe took care of them. Don’t worry. You’re safe,” he said as he nodded to a man filling up his gas tank.

  He’d rescued me again. It was odd for me to have a guy I barely knew and who wasn’t the law protect me. The last time anyone saved me was an off-duty cop. I’d been out with girlfriends at a club in Miami when I got separated from them. I was about to take a cab home when two men jumped out of a car and grabbed me. If it weren’t for that off-duty cop, I wasn’t sure I’d be alive. My heart warmed at how Dillon cared.

  I darted into the store and hurried down a short hall in the back. Once in the bathroom, I quickly emptied the contents of my bladder. After I washed my hands, I splashed water on my face then glanced at myself in the mirror. Christ, I was losing my tan after just a week of being in the freaking cold. Either that, or the week had caught up with me, making me as white as the sink. The paleness of my skin made the dark circles beneath my grayish-blue eyes stand out like a raccoon’s. I needed to sleep for a month. Yeah, that wasn’t happening. Not when I had work to do. I grabbed a paper towel, patted my face, then wiped my hands.

  Once outside, I found Dillon with one foot pressed to the building, reading something on his phone. Snow started to fall.

  “Can you call me a cab or show me where the ‘T’ is?”

  He straightened. “No. You’ll stay with me tonight. It’s late.”

  I opened my mouth to protest.

  He held up his hand. “Hear me out. No strings. You’ll have your own bed. In the morning we’ll talk business.”

  I licked my chapped lips. “You mean you’re still doing business with me even though I know Kelton?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.” He waved his hand in the direction of his house. “Shall we?”

  “Do you have a girlfriend that’s going to show up?”

  He chuckled. “No girlfriends. Come on. It’s freezing out here.”

&
nbsp; I was cold, tired, and could use a place where I didn’t have to hear anyone yelling, playing loud music, or having sex. My intuition was telling me I could trust Dillon. “One condition. Tell me how you knew it was me in the club?”

  “Quid pro quo. Fair?” He chewed on his busted lip as he peered down at me.

  I nodded.

  “Let’s walk,” he said. “I told Rafe to take the car back.”

  As we trekked back down the quiet street, large snowflakes fell, coating the parked vehicles. There was no sign of the thugs in the car.

  “Rafe hacked into BU’s computer system. Once he found your full name, he did more research and found a picture of you in the Miami Herald. I’m sorry about your parents.” His tone was even, yet a hint of sadness edged the last of his words.

  The Miami Herald had posted a write-up of the accident along with a picture of my mom, dad, and me. The Coast Guard had found my father’s forty-foot yacht overturned, but no bodies. I’d been scheduled to go with them that weekend to the Bahamas. But I’d gotten the flu. According to the Coast Guard, my parents encountered a storm with twenty-foot waves off the coast of the Bahamas.

  A snowflake flake melted on my nose. “Thanks. So I guess it’s my turn.” We crossed over a side street. “Kelton and I grew up together. Or at least until I was thirteen. Then my father took a position with his company in England. I never kept in touch with Kelton. The first time I saw him since I left Texas was in the damn art class.”

  “Why don’t you want anything to do with him?”

  Because I was still in love with him, and I knew we could never be a couple. Because people I love die. Because my sister killed his sister. Because his family would never welcome me. Because I couldn’t afford the distraction. “Bad history.”

  We walked the last two blocks in silence. I was thankful he didn’t pry any further. I wasn’t ready to spill the details of my past with Kelton, not without breaking down.

  As we climbed the steps up onto his porch, I prayed tomorrow would be a better day. I certainly had a new plan to get what was mine, albeit a loose one.

  Chapter 8

  Lizzie

  I flipped onto my stomach in the most comfortable bed I’d slept in in ages. A stream of morning light weaved through the blinds—or at least I thought it was morning. I didn’t care to check either. Since it was Saturday, I didn’t have any pressing appointments or a job I had to be at. The only item on my list was to give Zach Malden a ring that afternoon. Burying my face into the goose-down pillow, I inhaled its crisp lavender scent as I stretched my body in all directions. When I did, I kicked something at the bottom of the bed. Then someone giggled.

  I jackknifed into a sitting position, blinking rapidly. My gaze landed on not one, but two girls who had to be about seventeen or eighteen. Oh my God. Dillon said he didn’t have a girlfriend. Or maybe they were his sisters. Both were sitting on my bed staring at me with beautiful smiles and big brown eyes.

  The one closest to me was braiding the ends of her long brown hair. “Good morning. I’m Bee.”

  The other, who had shiny black hair styled into a pixie cut, waved. “I’m Allie.”

  “So, did Dillon find you on the streets?” Bee asked, securing the ends of her braid with a scrunchie.

  My jaw fell to the mattress. “I’m sorry?”

  “Who’s your pimp?” Allie asked, inching farther onto the bed before lying on her side, propping her head in her hand.

  My jaw locked. I’d made a grave mistake falling for Dillon’s charm. Suddenly, it all made sense. He didn’t want me to sell guns for him. He wanted me on his crew to sell my body. He kissed me last night as a test. I’d bet he wanted to make sure I could kiss well for the clients. I swept my gaze over the two girls, who were dressed in flannel pajamas. Bee’s was printed with bears and Allie’s with Hello Kitty. Allie seemed to have a hard edge to her by the way she was studying me. Maybe it was the hollowness of her eyes. On the other hand, Bee gave me the impression she was naïve and less tomboyish than Allie.

  “I think I need to go.” I eased back the covers.

  “Please don’t,” Bee said. “We’d like for you to go to the movies with us. Dillon says you’re going to be staying with us for a while.”

  My eyebrows disappeared into my hairline. “He did?” The man was way too confident. Either that or he was planning on locking me in this room. I diverted my gaze to the two windows, hoping a fire escape sat outside one of them since I was on the third floor.

  Bee nodded, beaming from ear to ear as she took my hand. “You need a manicure. Oooh, Allie. Let’s give Elizabeth a makeover.”

  Dillon hadn’t wasted any time in sharing my name. I was curious what else he had told them.

  Allie’s gaze roamed over me, no doubt trying to figure out who the new girl was.

  Bee flipped my hand so my palm was facing upward. “Why do you have calluses?”

  “Lifting weights. Is Dillon home?”

  “Yeah, he’s in the kitchen making breakfast.” Allie sat up. “The bathroom is down the hall on the left. We’ll meet you on the first floor. Come on, Bee. Let’s eat.” Her voice was firm, leading me to believe she was the more adult of the two.

  Bee pouted as she traipsed out with Allie. I flopped back onto the pillow. I couldn’t imagine Dillon as a pimp. He was a gentleman last night. He wanted me safe. When we got back to his house, he didn’t try to coax me to his bed or try to kiss me. He escorted me to this room and said good night. I stared up at the popcorn ceiling, debating what to do. No weapon was worth selling my body for. I had a small amount of cash in the bank, though I had to use it sparingly. The best course of action was to contact Peyton to see if her mom needed help with upcoming catering jobs. After the art gala, Wendy had paid me in cash. For two hours of my time she’d given me one hundred and fifty dollars. At first I’d given half of it back to her. It seemed like a lot, considering it far exceeded minimum wage. She’d insisted, saying I’d done a great job. Part of me thought Peyton had told her mom about my family and that Wendy felt sorry for me. Either way, I pocketed the cash after she argued with me.

  The smell of bacon floated in the air, and my stomach grumbled. I climbed out of bed, dressed, and combed my fingers through my hair then set out for the kitchen, thinking about how to approach Dillon. The best way was to keep it simple. Tell him straight up I wasn’t working the streets for him, and that he could sell me the gun and I’d be out of his hair.

  I followed the bacon scent down to the first floor, swung around the staircase, then crossed a wide hall and into the open spacious kitchen. Allie and Bee sat opposite each other at a picnic-style table. Beyond them, through the window, three inches of snow piled neatly atop the wooden fence.

  Bee beamed with excitement when she saw me. Allie kept eating, only eyeing me for a brief moment. Dillon stood at the stove, plucking bacon from a pan onto a plate.

  “Sleep well?” he asked. His brown, shoulder-length hair had that bedhead look, and his jaw was scruffy. He was wearing a wife-beater, showcasing a tattoo sleeve of crosses, quotes, a Chinese symbol, and a woman’s name, along his right arm.

  My short-term memory vaporized as my limbs locked into place. I stared at the name, Grace, which was woven into the Chinese symbol on his bicep. My lungs burned as though Dillon had poured hot grease down my throat.

  “Bee, help Elizabeth into a chair,” Dillon said.

  At the sound of my name, I snapped back to reality, switching my gaze from his arm to Bee, who had bounced over to me.

  “I’m cool,” I said weakly.

  Bee went back to her seat. She and Allie began whispering—about me, I imagined. I had to look like a deer in the headlights.

  I shuffled closer to Dillon, trying to recall my Chinese. My father had taken an assignment with his tech company in China for two months
when we lived in Texas. My mom, Gracie, and I had visited him for a month. I’d been fascinated with the language and picked up several words. When we returned to the States, I kept up with learning the language until Gracie died. Then I lost all desire to do anything.

  “You’ve seen a ghost,” Dillon said as he touched my arm.

  I’d seen more than a ghost. I was beginning to think Dillon and I were meant to meet. For what reason, I wasn’t sure.

  He carried a plate of bacon to the table. “Let’s eat and talk.” He set the plate next to a bowl of scrambled eggs, fruit, toast, and a stack of pancakes.

  I moved over to the bench-style seating, my mind swimming with what question to ask him first.

  “Girls, if you’re finished, head upstairs and get ready,” Dillon said. “I have a few things to do before we leave for the movie.”

  Bee and Allie kissed him on the cheek. Allie snagged a piece of bacon. Bee waved at me with a glowing smile. I couldn’t help but return the gesture. Bee had an infectious way about her to the point where I wanted to hug her and let her paint my nails.

  “I would like to know why they asked who my pimp was. If you’re a pimp, I’m out of here.” And I’d be taking the girls with me.

  He filled his plate with eggs, the spoon dinging against the bowl as he scooped. “After all my help last night, is that what you think?” He mashed his lips into a thin line as he salted his eggs.

  I ground my teeth together. “I don’t know. What’re two teenaged girls doing with you? Are they your sisters?” Dillon didn’t give me the impression he was a guy who took advantage of girls.

  He grabbed a fork and shoveled a pile of eggs into his mouth. He watched me while he chewed. “They’re two girls who needed help. They were living on the streets with no chance of surviving.”

  “Where are their parents?”

  “Allie ran away from a foster home. I found her pimp beating her. Bee is also a runaway, but not from a foster home. Her mother died when she was young, and she was left with a father who’s a drunk. She couldn’t take his shit anymore. I found her among the homeless crowd one night. They’re both eighteen and make their own decisions. I’ve offered to help them reconnect with family, but they’re not ready.”