Harlequin Superromance March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Secrets of Her PastA Real Live HeroIn Her Corner

by EMILIE ROSE

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THE PHOTO SHOOT was for a magazine feature about up-and-coming female athletes. Although Bella didn’t know which publication it’d be for, Ryan had told her several times that he’d pulled a lot of strings to get her featured.

  “The guy working on the piece owes me. I helped him a couple of years back when he needed interviews with some of my clients. He made his name on those stories.”

  Weird. She would’ve thought Ryan would appreciate any exposure his clients got.

  The photographer, Jamie, shook hands with her, appraised her carefully and then showed her the change room where a rack of clothing awaited. A young woman with thick-framed glasses fixed her hair—which basically involved adding extra hairspray—and applied a heavy layer of makeup with candy-red lips and thick black mascara. It wasn’t Bella’s usual palette, but this was a photo shoot.

  She donned the trunks and rash guard provided, and did a few quick warm-ups to get her blood flowing. The photographer had her do tough girl poses and action shots. Ryan watched pensively from the far corner until his attention wandered back to his smartphone.

  They moved on to a tank top and zip-up hoodie with shorts. Jamie had her do more brooding shots. Then he started joking around, telling her stories about other athletes he’d photographed. It was a lot of fun, actually. Bella liked the guy. He did his job well.

  “Okay, I’m gonna take a quick smoke break while you put on the next outfit,” Jamie said, and ducked out while Bella went back to the change room. The hair and makeup girl met her with a hanger. A bunch of what appeared to be fat shoelaces hung from it.

  She held it out with a nervous smile. “You might need help putting this on.”

  “Putting what on?” She stared at the shoelaces. The makeup girl took it off the hanger and spread it out. Bella’s eyes went wide.

  It was a bathing suit. Barely. The thin white strips of fabric radiated from three tiny triangles. She could barely figure out how anyone would put this on, much less swim in it.

  “Boobs go here. Your arms go through these holes, legs through here.” The hair and makeup girl tried for a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, it’ll look fantastic on you. You’ve got the perfect body for this.”

  Bella looked from the suit to the girl and back, her good feelings about this shoot melting away. “Ryan!”

  The agent strolled in casually, smiling. “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Did you see this?” She snatched the suit from the girl, who skittered away like a mouse from beneath a lion’s paw. The laces tangled into a knot in her fist.

  He looked calmly at the suit, then at her. “What’s the problem?”

  “What’s the— Are you blind? I’m not wearing this.”

  He gave a light laugh. “Sweetheart, this is a photo shoot for Brash. Do you have any idea how big that is?”

  Brash? The monthly glossy was barely more than a soft porn rag masquerading as a men’s lifestyle magazine, with articles like “How to Tell Her Breasts Are Real” and “Three Steps To Dumping Your Long-Term Girlfriend.”

  “I don’t care. I told you yesterday I’m not comfortable in revealing clothes. This counts as revealing.”

  “Sweetheart, it’s okay—”

  “No, it’s not okay. And stop calling me sweetheart.” She threw the suit onto the floor. “You’re my agent. Do your job.”

  A storm boiled into his face. “Do my job? Listen, you. I have been doing my job. I’ve been working my ass off, even neglecting some of my other clients, so that you can make something of your little career. I deserve some respect, but all I get from you is your smart mouth.”

  She stared at him, shocked by his hateful tone. “This is unacceptable. I’m walking away right now.”

  He grabbed her, pinching the muscle between her shoulder and neck so tight she yelped. He pushed her hard against the wall and pinned her there. His nostrils flared as he got up close. His cologne stung her eyes. “You do not walk away from me when I’m still talking. I came to you. There are hundreds of fighters who’d kill to have me as their agent. If you want to be a star, you do what I say. You give the camera what it wants, and you do it with a smile. You dress the way I tell you to, and you do it happily. Otherwise, I’ll make sure you never get another fight anywhere.”

  Her heart rate ramped up, pushing blood into her head and hazing her vision. The expensive suit and fancy meals, the easy smile and casual airs—they’d all been stripped away to reveal the bully beneath.

  In the three seconds it took her to rein in her temper, Bella could’ve broken his arm, smashed his nose and wrapped him in a headlock. She’d been trained by the best. But her training also meant she knew how to keep her cool. She looked him up and down and smiled tightly. “You know what, Ryan? You’re fired.”

  “What?”

  “Fired. Out. Off the payroll.” She brushed off his suddenly limp hand and pushed past him. “I don’t need you.”

  “You think you get to leave me?” His fingers wrapped around her wrist, and he jerked her back to face him. “You’re just like her.”

  Okay. Bella twisted her grip, catching his hand and pulling him against her. She spun, rammed her elbow into his solar plexus, pivoted on her heels, kicked his shin and slammed a right hook into his jaw. He collapsed to the ground, groaning.

  Her harsh breaths stung her throat. “Don’t touch me again. Ever.”

  “I think you better do as she says.” Kyle’s low, rough voice startled her. He stood in the doorway, massive arms folded over his chest, thunder in his face. She could see his fingers gripping his biceps tight, as if he were trying to contain himself. “I saw it all, Bella. Heard it, too.”

  “You...both of you...” Ryan got up slowly. His lip was bloodied and he limped a little. “You think you can get rid of me?”

  “Leave, Ryan. Or I’ll call the police and report you for assault.”

  “Assault? I didn’t— She—” His face turned a shade of puce. He cut them one last glare before hurrying past Kyle. “This isn’t over.”

  Bella started trembling. Her heart pounded in her ears. She felt light-headed.

  “Easy, easy.” Kyle was at her side instantly. He sat her down in a chair and pushed her head between her knees.

  Her vision cleared as she breathed deeply to calm the jackhammer of her pulse. What the hell was wrong with her? She fought for a living. She’d fought against women and men tougher and better trained than Ryan. Why was she freaking out?

  Kyle brought her a bottle of water, made her take small sips. “Do you want me to call the police?” he asked gently. “I heard everything. We could file a report.”

  “No. It’s not worth it. He didn’t...do anything.” She was cold all over. Kyle must’ve had a sixth sense because he draped a big beach towel he’d found somewhere over her shoulders, then rubbed her arms roughly. She knew he was only trying to warm her up, but what she really wanted was his arms around her.

  “Sorry.” She wiped at an errant tear, angry that she looked like she was crying when she wasn’t. It was frustration moisture. “I’ll be fine in a minute.”

  “You did good,” he said. “I mean, you really decked him, but you stopped at the right time. If it were me, he wouldn’t have walked out of here at all.”

  “I didn’t quite pull my punches, I’ll admit,” she said on a half laugh. She looked up at his grim smile. “You always seem to be around when I’m in trouble.”

  “I’m not stalking you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  She frowned. “Wait a second. Why are you here?”

  “I couldn’t get through on your cell phone, and Ryan was screening my calls.” He wiped a hand across his mouth and glanced away. “It’s... Oh, hell...”

  “What? Tell me.”

  He gave her a pained l
ook. “The hospital called. Shawnese is in the E.R. She’s been stabbed.”

  * * *

  THEY LEFT THE studio with barely an explanation to Jamie. Kyle drove Bella to the hospital in a rental car. She hadn’t even realized she was still clutching the beach towel around her shoulders until they arrived at the E.R. A few queries later, they entered a postoperative recovery room. A police officer stood inside.

  Shawnese lay in the bed, eyes shut, breathing deeply. She was hooked up to several monitors and IV bags. Her hands were heavily bandaged, and her face sported several puffy bruises. Bella pressed a fist to her mouth.

  “Oh, my God.” Kyle leaned against the door frame.

  Bella looked to the officer. “What happened?”

  “Bella Fiore?” The compact uniformed woman approached. “I’m Officer Sheila Jackson. I work in the Sixth District. I was the one who found Shawnese.” Bella shook the policewoman’s hand absently, unable to tear her gaze from the girl in the bed. “She was semiconscious when I found her. She said your name several times, and we found this card on her.” She handed her one of Payette’s business cards. One corner was stained with dried blood. Bella nearly dropped it.

  “Shawnese is in a self-defense class I teach at Payette’s,” she explained, finding her voice.

  “I wondered. I’m a fight fan. I recognized your family name.”

  Bella appreciated that the officer didn’t make a big deal of it and stayed on task. “What happened to her?”

  “When I found her, she was cut up pretty bad. Her hands and arms, mostly. She’d lost a lot of blood. Looked like whatever happened, she put up a really hard fight.”

  Bella’s stomach churned. She blindly sat in the chair by the bed. “Who did this?”

  “Well, I have a few theories, but I can’t say for sure until she wakes up and tells me exactly what happened. The problem is, I’m not sure she will.” Bella questioningly stared up at Officer Jackson. “Shawnese is...known to us.”

  Code for she had a record. And, judging by the officer’s sad look, a bad one. “A while back, she asked me to teach her how to defend against knife attacks,” Bella said. She had told the same thing to Reta but hadn’t yet heard back from the social worker.

  The officer flipped open a notebook. “Did she mention why?”

  “No. I thought maybe she was afraid in general. She has trust issues.”

  Officer Jackson nodded. “I thought if you were here, she might be more willing to talk. You’re obviously important to her. She doesn’t have anyone else.”

  “I’ll call Reta and let her know what’s happened,” Kyle said, and hurried out.

  Officer Jackson shifted her stance. “Listen. This looks like an attempted murder and aggravated assault case, and we want to open up a criminal investigation. But if she doesn’t tell us what happened, a dangerous criminal walks free.” She pocketed the notebook and rubbed her eyes. “I’m going to get a cup of coffee. If she wakes up, talk to her, but be gentle. Let me know if she says anything.”

  Seconds after the officer left, a raspy voice whispered, “’M not sayin’ nothin’.”

  “Shawnese.” Bella inched closer. “How are you feeling?”

  The girl swallowed thickly and her eyes cracked open just barely. “Like shit.” Her cracked lip twitched. “Y’should see the other guy.”

  Bella brought her a cup of ice and helped wet the girl’s lips. “What happened?”

  Shawnese’s demeanor shuttered and she sank into her pillow. “Got jumped. Guy took my money.”

  “But...your hands.”

  “Fell into a pile of scrap metal.”

  Bella sucked in her lip. “C’mon, Shawnese. You want to let whoever did this get away with it?”

  “He already has.” She lifted her hands and made a face. “Better than being dead, I guess.”

  “Who’s he?”

  She turned her face to stare at the wall. Bella tried another tack. “Why did you ask for me? Why not Reta, or one of the other Touchstone kids?”

  “I’m just a junkie to them. You think they care what happens to me?”

  “Of course they care. Kyle’s talking to Reta on the phone right now.”

  “You don’t get it. I’m off the stuff, but they won’t think that. I was trying to earn some quick money. I...I want to take more classes with you. Real classes to learn how to fight.” Tears brimmed in her eyes. “No one’s gonna believe that.”

  All the pieces snapped together, painting a gritty, ugly picture of Shawnese’s life. Bella had a pretty good idea how the girl had intended to earn her money, and it made her mad and sad all at once. “Who did this to you? I want to know the bastard’s name so I know whose ass I’ll be kicking when I’m training on the heavy bag.”

  “Nuh-uh. You’ll tell the cops.”

  “I won’t.” She gently placed both hands on her bandaged ones. “I swear.”

  Shawnese closed her eyes and let out a long breath. “Andre.” It came out of her as though she’d been wrung out like an old washcloth.

  Bella wrapped the name up in her mind and added it to the collection of pain and anger she kept tightly sealed away. She would think about this Andre on those days she needed to push herself past restraint. It was a dangerous practice, fighting angry. For Bella it was like hitting a turbo button on a Formula One race car—anger added a boost of power that could cost her her control.

  Emotions made her lose focus, made her get sloppy. But for Shawnese, she would do this. She would make Andre a mental target and spend the rest of her life beating him into submission.

  “You should rest. You were really brave.” Bella choked on her words. “I’m proud of you.”

  “Don’t let them give me any dope,” Shawnese murmured. “I’m clean now. Don’t need any dope. I’d rather feel the pain than have to get clean again.”

  “I’ll let the nurse know.” She had a feeling she was already on some kind of painkiller, though, probably morphine. She could only imagine what kind of agony she’d be suffering otherwise.

  In a few minutes, she heard Shawnese’s deep, steady breathing. She left the room and found Kyle by the nurses’ station, quietly talking with Officer Jackson. “Reta’s on her way over,” he said.

  “Shawnese woke up for a bit, but she’s sleeping now.”

  The police officer straightened. “Did she tell you anything?”

  Bella hesitated and shook her head. The officer sighed. “I’ll start my report. I don’t think I’ll get anything more out of her tonight. But if she happens to say anything to you...” She handed her a business card. “She might not realize it, but I’m on her side. I know things have been tough for her. She lost her whole family in Katrina...” She tugged on the brim of her hat as she looked away, clearing her throat. “I’d better go. Thank you for coming down.”

  “Thank you.” She watched the officer walk off, saw how straight she kept her spine despite the slump in her shoulders, the tired shuffle of her feet.

  “Hey.” Kyle nudged her. “You okay?”

  “I want to wait until Reta gets here. I don’t want Shawnese to wake up alone.”

  He nodded. They stayed for another forty minutes. Reta arrived. Bella shared what Shawnese had told her, knowing Reta would understand her dilemma and keep her confidence. The social worker frowned.

  “Andre comes around sometimes for the needle exchange and to pick up condoms. We’ve never been able to deny him service because he always follows the rules. I know he’s bad news, but...” Her sad look said it all. She couldn’t control what happened outside of Touchstone’s walls. Her hands were tied unless Shawnese pressed charges.

  Kyle looked confused. “I don’t understand. The guy tried to kill her. Why wouldn’t Shawnese want the cops to know?”

  “She’s afraid they’ll arres
t her. It may not look like it, but prostitution is frowned upon in NOLA.” Reta paused, seeing Kyle’s confusion. “Andre used to be Shawnese’s pimp.”

  Kyle blinked. “Oh.”

  “She was barely fifteen when the cops first picked her up. After they processed her, they sent her to us. She’s been in and out of trouble ever since, but she finally got herself clean and ditched Andre. I thought she was doing really well.”

  “Is there anything we can do to help?” Bella asked.

  “Legally? No.” She gave a wry shake of her head. “Believe it or not, we got lucky tonight. Shawnese is alive. I’m sorry to say this kind of thing happens more often than you think.” Reta placed a hand on Bella’s shoulder. “Whatever you taught her probably saved her life.”

  Within the hour, other workers and volunteers from Touchstone joined Reta. They’d spell each other off and keep Shawnese company. Bella wanted to stay, but Reta insisted she go home, since nothing more could be done. Weary to the bone, she let Kyle escort her back to the car.

  “I wish I could do more for her,” Bella said as they walked out to the parking lot. The sun had set and even though the pavement still radiated the day’s heat, the air was damp and clung to her skin. She rubbed her arms, wondering where that towel had gotten to. She must have left it at the hospital...

  A flash of Ryan’s steel grip on her shoulder sapped the strength from her limbs. She pushed away the memory of the photo shoot, angry at herself for dwelling on her problems when Shawnese was so badly hurt.

  “You did more than what was called for,” Kyle said. “If you hadn’t taken the extra time to teach her those techniques, who knows how much worse off she’d be?”

  But regret had set its hooks into her, and she couldn’t help the flood of self-recrimination. “I should’ve asked her why she was so afraid. I should’ve called the cops. I should’ve—”

  “You did all you could reasonably do. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

  It didn’t feel like nearly enough.

  They arrived at Kyle’s rental car. The ground suddenly pitched her to one side. In the grip of vertigo, she leaned heavily against the door, resting her forehead against the roof.