Jennie clasped thin hands together in her lap. “Everyone deserves a second chance. He was a good husband and a good father.”
“He was a drug dealer who supplied to anybody, even kids, including my friend who died in our backyard.” Taylor had been a sweet kid from a crappy home, and he’d spent all the earnings from his fast-food job buying drugs from Parker Monzelle. Finally, one day, he’d OD’d in the back yard, the police had been called, and then the world had changed for her family.
Lex shook her head. “Dad killed at least three rival drug dealers that we know about. In addition, don’t you remember how badly he used to talk down to you?” The words exploded from Lex, and she drew herself up short with a hard inhale.
“He’s been in prison for more than two decades, and I think he’s changed.” Jennie held her hand out for the envelope.
Lex glanced at the envelope and then slowly handed it over. “He knows how to find you because you tell him,” she said slowly, realization dawning.
A light pink filtered under Jennie’s still smooth skin. “Yes.”
“God.” Lex jumped to her feet and began to pace. No way did Tori know about this. “Mom. How could you?”
“I made a vow, Lexie.” Jennie carefully placed the envelope on the table. “Even though I did get divorced, I’ve never felt divorced. And I wouldn’t normally tell you, but I believe his letter. I believe you’re in danger, and I think you should go speak with him.”
Betrayal coated Lex’s throat. Her mother had been communicating with her father for years, and she’d had no clue. “Oh, I’ll go see him, all right.” She’d let the bastard know exactly what would happen if he ever bothered Jennie again.
“Be nice, Lexie.” Jennie brushed thick curls over her shoulder. “Try to remember the good times. He read to you every night.”
“Before he sold poison on our streets.” Before he’d been taken away, and they’d lost their home. Even her new stereo had been confiscated and probably sold at auction. “We ended up penniless.” And scared. More important, they’d ended up alone.
“I know.” Jennie leaned forward. “Please say you’ll go talk to him. Just in case.”
“I promise.” The talk wouldn’t go nearly as well as Jennie hoped, however. “Did you tell him how to find Tori?” Lex asked.
“No.” Jennie’s mouth pursed. “I’d never do that.”
Yeah, Lex didn’t figure she would, but that just meant their dad had good connections in the outside.
A physical therapist in light blue scrubs turned around the corner and moved their way, his eyes bright, and his movements graceful. “Jennie? It’s time for therapy. Whoo-hoo.”
Jennie giggled and gestured toward Lex. “John, this is my daughter, Lexie. She’s a homicide cop.”
John wiggled dark eyebrows under dark hair. Handsome and clean-cut, he appeared to be in his early twenties. “I’ve heard. So nice to meet you.”
“You, too.” Lex leaned over and dropped a kiss on her mom’s forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow night. And don’t worry—I’ll take care of the other issue.” Reaching under Jennie’s arm, she helped her to her feet, while John positioned her walker.
Jennie smiled. “My strength is coming back, and I feel like I’m going into remission again. Yay.”
Thank goodness. Lex waited until John had escorted her mother from the room before heading for the door. Her phone rang just as she reached her car. Seeing it was Bernie, she answered, “Hi, Sexy.”
He chortled. “You’re funny. But I have news that ain’t gonna make you laugh.”
She sighed and rested her head on the car. “God. What?”
“Got the info on Duck. Guess who bailed him out and picked him up personally the other night. Two hours before he ended up dead?”
Lex swallowed, her heart leaping into fast-paced action. “Who?”
“None other than smooth Irish boy, himself. Kellach Dunne.”
Son of a bitch. “I’ll call you later.” She hung up and jumped into the car. She’d kill the bastard.
Chapter 15
An eerie silence enveloped the large garage and surrounding buildings at Titans of Fire, and even the black asphalt seemed harsher than usual. Lex shuddered. The line of bikes under the garage’s eves showed that at least a few of the thirty or so Fire members were on site at the compound.
Bernie had found Pyro at a local watering hole to make the notification of Duck’s death. Was it only the previous night that Lex had stood over Duck’s burned body? Apparently Pyro had turned to tequila instantly, his eyes wet.
Lex was supposed to be getting some sleep before reaching out to Kellach, but she knew he wouldn’t talk to Bernie, and there was no way she could sleep right now. It was her one chance to find out what was going on and get Kell to tell the truth about his bailing out Duck. “This is such a fucking bad idea,” she muttered while stepping up to the heavy steel door.
But if she had to arrest him, she would. She was trained, she was fast, and she was pissed.
Even so, if he fought back, it’d be a hell of a fight. Could she take him? Chills cascaded down her back in direct contrast to the fury spiraling heat through her every nerve.
Would he fight her, or would he call Simone? If Lex approached him just right, perhaps he’d be too confident to call his lawyer. The second that woman got involved, the investigation would stall again.
She lifted her hand to knock, hoping Pyro didn’t answer, and the door opened.
Kellach blinked, obviously on his way out. “Detective?”
She swallowed. He’d thrown on faded jeans, badass boots, a T-shirt that stretched over powerful muscles, and his cut . . . tough black leather. His dark hair was ruffled around his shoulders, and he’d neglected to shave, leaving his jaw stubbled and making him look even more like a bad boy created just for sin.
“I need you to come down to the station for a few questions.” No way could she handle him one on one. She had to keep it professional and forget the amazing night of almost sex she’d just had.
What the hell had she been thinking?
He looked over her head toward her car. “No backup?”
“No. I thought I could get the truth from you better alone.” She took a step back. How had she forgotten how large he was? How solidly formed?
He rubbed his whiskers, and something heated deep in her core. “I’ll talk to you, but not at the station.”
She frowned. “You’ll talk to me where I damn well want to talk.”
He paused and his gaze swept her head to toe. “You wanna be in charge?”
“I am in charge.” Her cuffs hung heavily in her back pocket.
“Hmmm. Well, I bought condoms. Wanna come in and we’ll wrestle for control?” Low and soft, his voice rumbled between them to lick right through her skin. Even so, a hint of anger wafted on the breeze.
She blinked and shoved desire away with temper. “You posted bail for Duck and took him from the station.”
Kell’s jaw clenched, but no expression lightened those too-dark eyes. “After last night, you think I actually killed Duck?”
After last night? “I think you’re a liar.”
“I didn’t lie to you, Alexandra.”
The way he said her name, with possession and patience, dark male inflection, inched her hand toward the cuffs.
He stilled her by covering her hand with his at her hip. Drawing her near, he reached around and grabbed the handcuffs, twirling them around one finger. “If we’re playing bondage games, you’re the one tied up, darlin’.”
Heat flared into her cheeks. How was it possible to be so pissed off and turned on at the same time? “You’re messing with the wrong cop.”
“You’re the only cop I want to mess with.” He turned and threw the cuffs. The silver spun through the air, went high, and landed on top of the garage with a loud clamor. “I’d prefer you in leather restraints, or at least feather-lined cuffs. No hard iron for such delicate skin.”
Ev
en though he was being a total smartass, the image aroused by his words slid under her skin to find desire and uncurl it.
“Answer my question, or I’m going to arrest you.”
“Can’t. Don’t have probable cause.” His lips curved, but the amusement failed to reach his darkened eyes. “Tell you what. How about you take a ride with me, and then I’ll answer any question you have. Honestly.”
A ride behind that body on a powerful machine? God.
The spit dried up in her mouth, and her legs actually tingled. Sounded like a dream come true . . . one of those sexy ones where reality spins away. But she was a cop, and her brain ruled her movements. “Not a chance.”
He shrugged. “Your choice.” Stepping to the side, he began to walk toward the line of bikes.
She hesitated. No way could she drag him downtown. “Wait.”
He paused but didn’t turn around. A massive man, a dangerous one, without question. Standing in the early dawn, after a storm and right before the next one arrived.
She took a step toward him. The investigation was heating up, and she needed him to talk. Even more, she wanted a ride. Behind him, on that bike. Just for a moment of craziness. Plus, she was armed. “You’ll tell me everything?”
“No. I’ll answer every question you have, but you have to ask the right questions.” His voice echoed off the garage doors and back at her, powerful and low timbered.
The right questions? She’d just keep asking until she found the right one. “Fine.” It was a mistake of colossal proportions, but she needed answers. She had to get those drugs off the street. “Before I decide, answer one question.”
He still didn’t turn around to face her. “One question.”
“Did you kill Duck?”
His head lifted, and his shoulders squared. “Accept the answer this time, because it isn’t going to change. I did not kill Duck.”
Was he lying?
If she left with him, what kind of danger would she be in? “Fine. One ride.” She took her cell phone and quickly typed a text to Bernie that her car was at Fire and she was going for a ride with Kellach. Sure, Bernie would kill her, but at least he’d know where she was, just in case. “I’ve let the police know I’m with you.”
Kellach finally turned at that, his flash of teeth white against a bronzed face. “You scared I’ll hurt you, Alexandra?”
She lifted her chin. “Maybe I’m worried I’ll hurt you, Lasair.”
His chuckle filled the damp morning. “Fair enough.” Turning, he strode toward a Ducati.
She gingerly stepped over a large mud puddle. “I thought you rode a Harley.”
“My bikes vary.” He swung a leg over the side and ignited the engine, holding out a helmet. “Pretty police detectives wear protective gear, baby.”
Her brain mattered to her, too. “What about you?”
“My head is way too hard. Trust me.” He waited, gaze patient, lips slightly curved.
Her breath heated, and she double-checked the weight at her ankle. Yep. Gun there and ready to be used if necessary. The cop inside her told her she was taking such a risk to make her case, while the woman inside laughed her ass off. This was all about attraction, sex, and intrigue.
She didn’t think he’d killed Duck. Her instincts as a cop, as a woman, whispered that truth. Her brain wondered if the attraction was messing with her judgment.
Entirely possible.
Yet she reached for his shoulders and swung her leg over the bike behind him. If she had to, she’d shoot him. Well, if she could get her gun free before he was on her. Hand-to-hand, she could usually hold her own. With this guy? Maybe.
The rumble of power between her thighs sent tingles directly up and under her skin to her chest.
“Hold on.” Kell grabbed her hands and drew them around his waist. “Tight.”
She leaned into him, her hands clasped.
He angled the bike down the driveway and opened the throttle.
The wind whipped against them, fresh and pure, and she snuggled her cheek into his back, allowing him to shield her. As he made the first turn, she softened against him, holding tight, letting him direct their weight.
A rumble echoed through him in response, and a tension she could feel surrounded them. Her breath sped up, and her heart thumped.
He took them through back roads and through wild forest, all on asphalt and smooth. The air cooled, and the scent of pine soon competed with the scent of male.
Even on alert, even partially breathless, her body relaxed from the sheer enjoyment of flying free.
Finally, Kell turned down a barely there entrance between two trees, still asphalted, and meandered next to a bubbling spring to a log cabin sporting a huge front porch.
He cut the engine.
The energy still tingled through her legs, and she took a moment to settle. Then, grasping his arms for balance, she swung off the bike and handed him the helmet.
He hooked the helmet on a bar and followed her, his movements graceful and relaxed.
A bird chirped high up while the stream rushed along, faster than earlier.
She glanced around. “Where are we?”
“It’s our cabin. I come here when I wanna get out of the city.” He grinned. “You’re safe here. I’m sure your phone has GPS. If I hold you hostage, your garda compatriots will be breaking down my door in no time.” He clomped those big boots up the three stairs and nudged open the door.
“Wasn’t locked?” Lex asked.
Kellach shrugged. “Who’s going to break into my place?”
Good point. Really good point.
She followed him inside and gasped at the luxurious yet rustic furnishings of the living room with a massive fireplace and well-appointed kitchen. Two closed doors took up a wall, probably a bedroom and a bathroom. Nothing beat the exquisite view of the river and surrounding mountains. Finally, she turned toward him, hands on hips. “Just who the hell are you, Kellach Dunne?”
He closed the door just as thunder rumbled high above. “Just a bloke with exceptional timing. We don’t want to get caught in what’s coming.”
As if on cue, lightning illuminated the entire world. Fat drops of water rained down.
Kell crossed the living area and leaned down to start a fire.
She moved closer to the window as the sky darkened and the river reflected the storm. “Aren’t we in Grizzly territory?”
“Aye. I rent the place from Bear, actually.” Kellach turned and dusted off his hands, a small grin playing on his face. “Don’t tell anybody.”
She aimed for a shot in the dark. “Does Bear also work for Interpol?”
“Neither of us work for Interpol.” Kell eyed the gathering storm outside. “For the record, Bear doesn’t work for anybody. What you see is pretty much what you get.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” she asked slowly.
Kell shrugged. “You’re suspicious, I gather.” Thunder cracked again, and he frowned. “I need to put the bike on the porch, darlin’. Feel free to make yourself at home.” He brushed her arm as he passed. A gentle touch—natural. As if they were together, and he had every right to touch.
She stepped away and waited until he’d closed the door before eyeing the rooms. It had been a long ride, and she definitely could make use of the facilities. Pushing open the door on the right, she grinned. Yep. Very nice bathroom with a sunken tub. Another door set in the far wall—probably storage. She hadn’t seen much throughout the cabin.
Her heart kicked it up a notch. Okay. She knew why she’d agreed to the ride, and so did Kell. Yeah, she wanted to interview him, but finishing what they’d started the previous night consumed her thoughts. “Please don’t be a bad guy,” she whispered, washing her hands.
No towels. She smiled. Even as put together as Kellach seemed to be, he was still a bachelor.
Glancing around, she shrugged. Two steps had her at the other door, and she nudged it open.
Holy fucking shit.
&nbs
p; A small table sat in the middle. A myriad of weapons, green and different from any she’d ever seen, took up much of the shelves that lined all three walls of the storage room. She’d bet her ass they threw fire.
Three vials of amber colored liquid perched on the top eastern shelf. Apollo? Had to be.
Her hand shook, and she reached out to grab one of the handguns. Heavy. Much heavier than it looked, and no brand name or caliber on it. Just an odd green color.
The betrayal coated down her torso, followed by a burst of fury. At herself for being so stupid.
She’d test the confiscated weapon outside when she got the chance, just to watch it shoot balls of fire. For now, she’d trust her own weapon. She shoved Kell’s gun into the back of her waistband and whirled around to quickly shut the door, wiping her hands down the back of her jeans. The blood rushed through her head, roaring past her eardrums. She’d miscalculated dangerously. Her hands stabilized when she grasped her cell phone.
Shit. No service.
Had he planned to take her out of range? If so, why? And why would he allow her to find the weapons and drugs?
She’d texted Bernie she’d gone with Kell. If anything happened to her, it’d be a start. But she was trained, and once again, she was seriously pissed. Leaning down, she drew her weapon and slowly opened the door.
Kell stood near the fireplace, another log in his hand.
“You fucking prick.” She stepped out, gun pointed, aim steady.
He slid the log into place and turned toward her, one eyebrow rising. “Excuse me?”
“Down, now.” She gestured with her gun. Damn it, no cuffs. “On your face.”
“No.” Red darkened his cheeks. “I’ve had about enough of this waffling. One second you trust me enough to ride on my bike, and the next second you’re pointing a gun at me. Put down the weapon, and we’ll talk.”
“No.” She settled her stance and lowered her aim. “I’ll take out your knee, Kell. I really will.”
He moved then. She knew he moved, because she found herself flat on her back, his hard body pressing her into the worn floorboards. But she hadn’t seen him move. Not even a twitch. Her gun spun out of her hand, twirling round and round before hitting the far wall with a loud thunk.
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