by Bryony Kayn
“Group hug?” he asked sarcastically, walking around them into the kitchen to get a cup of coffee.
Angel glared at the Steve, fighting down the urge to knock the other man on his ass. “You’re an asshole,” he said flatly, and Steve turned in surprise.
“Angel,” Jake began, but Angel didn’t stop.
“I’ve seen what you did to her, you prick,” Angel went on, blazing hot anger bleeding into his voice. “Jake said it was an accident—an accident! Like I haven’t heard all this bullshit before.” He stepped away from Jake, leaving her white-faced beside the counter. “If she has any more accidents, you’re gonna have one of your own. Do you understand me?”
“Fuck, Angel, cool out,” Steve said, immediately defensive. Angel rarely showed his temper. “Jake told you it was an accident, and it was.”
“Just remember what I said, man. I am not fucking around,” Angel said and turned to look at Jake, wincing inwardly at the appalled expression on her pale face. “If you can’t be man enough to treat her right, then I’ll make a point of giving you a taste of your own medicine.”
“This is bullshit,” Steve growled, fixing an angry stare on his oldest friend. “I don’t butt into your personal business, Angel. So stay the fuck out of mine.”
Angel glanced back at Steve, his face set. “This is my business, man. You two are my best friends, for God’s sake! When you’re hurting her, I can’t just step back and do nothing!”
“I’m telling you to stay out of it,” Steve retorted sharply, his jaw clenched and nostrils flared. “And if you can’t, then I’m taking Jake back to my house. There’s no point in her staying here with you when it’s obvious you have a problem with us being together.”
“This is fucking asinine,” Jake said acidly, her arms crossed under her breasts. She looked from one man to the other, her expression scornful. Her look ended with Steve, and she said, “I am not a possession, and I don’t belong to you. You have no right to make decisions for me, especially without asking first.” She turned to Angel then, her expression not quite as severe, but still irritated. “And I appreciate your concern for me, Angel. But I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself. If I wanted to be rescued, I’d open my mouth and ask for your help.”
Both men just stared at her, momentarily at a loss for words.
“Fucking bullshit,” she muttered under her breath and turned away from them. She disappeared around the corner to the hall leading to her bedroom. A couple of seconds later, they heard her bedroom door slam shut.
With a wordless snarl, Steve skirted around Angel and headed down the hallway. Angel only went far enough to be able to see Steve when he reached the closed door. He tried the knob, but apparently Jake had locked it. It was only a privacy lock and wouldn’t take much to be forced open.
“Jake, open the door,” he called, futilely trying the knob again. “This is stupid, babe. Open up and talk to me!”
“Leave her alone,” Angel said, but Steve ignored him.
“Jae, open the fucking door, or I’ll kick it down!” Steve shouted, pounding on the door with his fist.
“Steve, leave her alone,” Angel repeated, wondering if he was going to have to haul the other man away from the door.
“Jae, I mean it,” Steve yelled, slapping the flat of his hand against the door, hard.
Angel heard a soft chime from the kitchen and left the hallway to check the security module located on the wall above the counter. The chime was a set response that announced the security gate was opening. He touched a button, and a small video screen turned on. The security camera at the gate showed him a glimpse of a silver Lexus just as it pulled through the gate. The camera stayed on until the wrought iron gate slid closed, then automatically turned off.
“Shit,” he said, wincing as he heard Jake’s bedroom door crash open and rebound off the wall.
“Jae, what the hell—” Steve said.
Angel went down the hallway, grimacing at the splintered doorframe. There was also a hole in the wall where the doorknob had punched through the drywall when Steve kicked in the door.
“Jae,” Steve said, his voice coming from the bathroom.
“She’s gone, man,” Angel said evenly.
“Gone—what do you mean, gone?” Steve asked, coming back into the bedroom.
Angel nodded to the French doors that led from the bedroom out onto the back patio. “I mean gone. She took the Lexus and left.”
“Shit,” Steve rasped, rubbing his forehead for a moment before tossing tangled black curls out of his face. “Where the hell would she go?”
Angel shrugged, watching the other man with less than friendly intentions. “I couldn’t tell you. And I probably wouldn’t if I knew.” He lifted his chin at the glare Steve threw him. “She’s not going to steal my car, Steve. She’ll be back.” He glanced at the bedroom door before turning back to Steve. “And you’re paying to have that repaired. This is my house, not the shitbag apartment we used to live in. You don’t need to be trashing it just because you’re throwing a tantrum.”
“Fuck you,” Steve growled and sat down on the bed he’d shared with Jake just last night.
Angel shook his head in disgust and left the other man alone.
Jake pulled over in front of Jezebel’s and sighed. The Sorry, We’re Closed sign was in the door. There were no hours posted. Spyk pretty much opened and closed when she felt like it. Jake turned off the engine and got out of the car, locking it with the remote by habit, and walked over to gaze through the barred window into the shop. There was no sign of anyone inside.
“Shit,” she hissed under her breath and looked up and down the street. Half a block away was a battered pay phone. With a disgruntled sigh she walked along the sidewalk, grimacing at the hot sunlight glaring off every piece of glass and metal in sight. She’d left Angel’s without any sunglasses and was developing a headache from the brightness, not to mention the ugly little scene that had taken place in Angel’s kitchen.
When she reached the pay phone, she was glad to see the phone book was still in place, hanging from a short metal cable that was bolted to the phone’s graffiti-covered canopy. She opened the book, paging through to the Ds. After a minute, she found the last name Duch; the first listing under Duch was Anne. A phone number was listed, but no address. Fishing in her pocket, Jake came out with some change and pushed it into the slot in the phone while she balanced the heavy phone book against her hip. Once she had a dial tone, she punched in the number and waited while it rang, hoping Spyk would answer.
“Yeah?” a rough female voice said after four rings.
“Spyk, where the hell are you?” Jake asked, letting the phone book drop to dangle from its cable.
“Jake?” Spyk sounded surprised. “What’s up?”
“I’m at the pay phone down the street from your store,” Jake said, pulling out a cigarette to light. “I came by to see you, but obviously you’re not open.”
“It’s a little early for the S and M crowd,” Spyk retorted. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I just wanted to BS with you for a while. Where do you live?”
Spyk gave her the address. Since she didn’t have anything to write it down on, Jake memorized it. “Want some coffee?”
“God, yes!” Jake returned. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“See ya then, Jakey.”
About fifteen minutes later, Jake parked the Lexus on the street before a slightly shabby three-story apartment building. She got out, locked the car, and crossed the cracked sidewalk to the front door. There was a battered security box to one side. She found the button labeled “Duch” and pushed it.
A few seconds later, the speaker crackled and emitted Spyk’s voice. “Jake?”
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Hang on—I’m buzzing you in. Third floor, last door on the right.” There was a jagged buzzing sound, and Jake pulled open a metal-grilled glass door and stepped into the cool interior. She crossed the deser
ted lobby, disdaining the old-fashioned cage elevator for the stairs.
When she turned down the last hallway at the top of the stairs, she saw the door at the end of the hall was standing ajar. Without knocking, she let herself in. The interior of the apartment was nothing like the rest of the building that she’d seen. The walls had been painted a clean white, and colorful throw rugs and runners covered most of the wood or tiled floors. It wasn’t a huge apartment, but much larger than anyplace Jake had lived in over the years, with the exception of Angel’s house. Wrought iron stands crowded around the large living room window, covered in planters, alive with green plants and flowers. A couch and overstuffed chair, both covered in pale blue slipcovers, took up much of the room, both of them turned to face the thirty-two-inch television on its stand. Past the living room was an arched doorway leading into the kitchen. A second arch, kitty-corner from the first, led to the bathroom and two bedrooms.
“I’m in the kitchen,” Spyk called. “Don’t forget to shut the front door.”
Jake grinned, thinking that Spyk sounded a lot like her mother, Ilone. She closed the door, turning the thumb lock, and crossed the cozy living room to the kitchen arch. This room, too, was bright and clean. All the cabinets had been painted white, matching the refrigerator and stove. The floor was tiled in black and white, and green curtains bracketed the tall, narrow kitchen window.
Spyk turned away from the counter, carrying two large mugs to the round wooden table in the corner by the window. “Come on in, Jakey,” she said, setting the mugs down. “Want anything else? I’ve got donuts.”
“No, the coffee is fine,” Jake said, walking over to take the second of two chairs pulled up to the table. “This is a nice place, Spyk.”
The redhead shrugged, sitting down as well. “No mansion, like Angel’s.”
“Still nice, though—better than anyplace I’ve ever had on my own.” Jake picked up her cup, taking a cautious sip of the steaming liquid. Spyk made her coffee strong, and Jake sighed at the taste. “This is good.”
“So, what’s going on?” Spyk asked, glancing at the faded bruises on Jake’s bare arms. “The last person I expected on the phone was you.”
“I needed to take off for a while. Figured you wouldn’t mind if I hung out with you,” Jake replied casually.
“Fight?”
Jake sighed, rubbing her temple. “That obvious?”
“What happened?”
Jake told her about the morning’s happenings and Steve’s possessive behavior. She admitted to the scrapes on her back and Angel’s reaction to them, but didn’t mention the kiss that had so moved her. “I decided I needed a break. From both of them,” she finished, sitting gingerly back against the rail-backed wooden chair. “I thought I’d kick it over here for a couple of hours, unless you need to take off.”
Spyk shook her head. “Naw, I wasn’t planning on going down to the store until after noon, so you’re good to stick around.”
“Where’s Kila?” Jake suddenly asked.
Spyk grimaced and brushed a speck of dust off the spotless tabletop. “She went to a meeting this morning. I don’t know what’s going on with her, but she’s having a hard time lately.”
“Steve was supposed to stop by the store and see her yesterday, but he never told me if he did,” Jake commented.
“He did,” Spyk said sourly. “She was thrilled to see him, too. But I think he was shocked when he saw her. I have to admit, I haven’t seen him that gentle with anyone, not even her in the old days.” She pushed her fingers through her hair, getting it out of her face, her blue eyes considering. “When he left, he took her to her evening meeting. Apparently he stayed with her through the whole thing and brought her back to the store to drop her off so she wouldn’t have to walk.”
Jake said nothing. Steve had always had a soft spot for Spyk’s little sister, and she had no problems envisioning him spending a couple of hours with the younger woman, even it if was at a twelve-step meeting.
“When he dropped her off, he said he was on his way to the Neon to see you. Invited Kila to tag along, but she said no.” Spyk sighed, worry touching her expression. “She doesn’t go out anymore. Says the temptation’s too strong. She never had a bad problem with booze, but she says if she has a drink, it’ll just lead her back to the drugs again. Hell, maybe she’s right.”
“It’ll get better,” Jake said, not knowing if it was true, but hoping so.
“So, you’ve got a few hours to kill?”
Jake nodded. “Don’t have to be at work until five.”
“I’ve got a couple joints in my bedroom. Care to join me?”
Jake stared at the other woman, amazed at the question. “Kila’s having that many problems, and you’ve got weed stashed in your room?”
Spyk shrugged. “She doesn’t know about it. And I’d never light up around her. But you look like you need to relax, and I know I could use a little break.” When Jake just continued to stare at her, Spyk threw her hands up. “I need to get rid of it, anyway. And I can’t stand the thought of flushing it. Kila’s going straight from her meeting to the store, so she won’t be back here until tonight.”
Jake was silent a moment longer, then capitulated. “Why the hell not?”
Spyk grinned and got up from her chair. Jake followed her out of the kitchen to the second arched doorway and down a short hall to the last bedroom. Spyk waited until Jake came in, then closed the door behind them. She pulled out a drawer in an old dresser and took a small carved wooden box out of the back. She flipped open the lid, revealing two narrow joints. “We can go out on the fire escape,” Spyk said, eyes sparkling as she grinned at Jake. “Suddenly I feel like I’m fifteen again, sneaking out of Ilone’s house to party.”
Jake shook her head, smiling wryly. At fifteen, she’d been living on the streets, fighting off advances from men and boys and keeping her distance from the pimps who kept offering her their protection. If she hadn’t walked into the Neon Club one day and begged Sly to give her a job, there was no telling where she might have wound up.
“Come on,” Spyk said, going around the bed to the window that opened onto the fire escape. She slid the casement up and stepped through, ducking under the low sash. When Jake came out as well, being careful not to bump her lower back, Spyk pushed the window closed so smoke wouldn’t drift into the bedroom. There were a couple of cushions on the fire escape, the kind that were used on patio furniture. Spyk sat down on one and gestured to the other.
Jake sat, glancing around. There were trees planted to either side of the building, and the lush foliage screened them from sight of the street. “You do this often?” Jake asked, taking the joint Spyk handed her.
“Not so much since Ki’s been so fucked up,” the other woman replied, handing Jake a lighter. “Sometimes I just come out here to sit after the sun’s gone down. The city lights are too bright to see any stars, but it’s nice to come out when it’s cooler and look up at the sky.”
Jake put the joint to her lips and touched the flame to the end, inhaling slowly and deeply. Beside her, Spyk did the same with the second joint. “God, if Angel could see us now,” Jake said, her voice tight as she held in the smoke, “he’d probably spank us.”
“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Spyk replied, grinning. Smoke curled out of her nose, making her look like some strange, blue-eyed dragon. “As long as we get to spank him back.”
When Jake pulled into Angel’s drive, she was relieved to see that Steve’s car was nowhere in sight. She drove around the side of the house, using the remote to open the garage door, and carefully backed the Lexus into its usual spot. She walked into the house, wondering if she was going to get a lecture from Angel for taking off with his car. Unless he’d gone with Steve, he was still at home because all the vehicles were in the garage.
“I was wondering when you’d show up,” Angel said, glancing up from his seat on the couch. He held an acoustic guitar on his lap and just gazed at her levelly.
“I thought you’d be over at T.J.’s by now,” she said, then winced at how that sounded. “I’m sorry I took off without saying anything, but I didn’t want to get into it with Steve.”
He nodded, setting the guitar on its stand beside the couch, and patted the cushion next to him. “He broke your door down. It’ll probably be a couple of days before I can get someone in here to fix it.”
Jake sighed and walked around the coffee table to sit next to him. He put his arm across her shoulders and tugged her over against his side. His fingers were gentle on her bare shoulder, and with his other hand he smoothed her hair away from her face.
“I was a little worried when you didn’t call,” he said softly, his fingers lingering on her face.
“I just needed a couple of hours away from—well, from everything that was going on,” she replied, meeting his eyes. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”
He smiled, caressing her jaw before his fingertips trailed down her throat. “I’ve been sitting here since Steve left, just waiting for you to show up again. Thinking about this morning. Thinking about what was said and about what happened before Steve woke up.”
She licked her lips, her eyes never leaving his handsome face. “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”
When he pulled her even closer, she didn’t resist. She knew he was going to kiss her, and part of her longed for it. She had cared about and trusted this man for so many years. And it was so nice to be kissed by someone with simple affection.
The kiss started innocently, but inevitably changed. Angel’s arms held her securely, his hands moving over her back gently. When she licked his lips lightly, he groaned and tightened his hold on her.
“Jake,” he whispered, his right hand sliding across her ribs to her breast.
“Ahh,” she sighed, letting her head fall back as he cupped her breast. It felt good, not just the physical sensation, but the knowledge that he wouldn’t suddenly hurt her just to get an extra reaction out of her. She put her hand over his, moaning softly when his mouth touched her throat.