Across the street, a bundled-up Anna hurried down the sidewalk with a drink carrier in her hand. What the heck did she think she was doing?
She ambled over to a woman and two children huddled together on the corner and handed them each a hot drink. The rain had let up, but the damp cold wasn’t as merciful.
Evan shook his head at her unfailing empathy.
The door to the Escalade opened when Anna started down the sidewalk. TweedleDum lumbered out and jutted his chin at his partner. One flanked left while the other gained ground on Anna from behind. Bells.
Evan shot a glance toward her dad’s town car creeping down the street. If Anna saw them, she’d flip. He grabbed his Sig and drew back the slide to check the chamber. Why’d he think she’d actually listen to him and stay inside? The girl was going to be the death of him.
He glanced up right as another man from the opposite direction strode for her.
Halfway out the door, Evan halted at the sight of the dude wrapping his arms around her. She obviously knew him. Even the dark couldn’t hide the look of comfort on her face. Evan’s whole body froze as she returned the affection.
The Trench Coat Duo stopped short, exchanged a measured glance, and backed into the shadows. A left-hand turn steered the town car out of view just in time. Her dad’s men would be circling back around to their post, just as Evan should be tailing the Escalade.
But when the guy with Anna draped an arm over her shoulders and prodded her forward, Evan slumped back into his seat. Her dad’s men had Anna covered. Still, if it didn’t feel like a Humvee was sitting on his chest, he would’ve followed them.
Someone banged against the passenger window. Marissa pressed her face against her cupped hands while trying to peer into the tinted glass. Anna was tripping him up more than she should. He never let someone sneak up on him.
A quick glance back caught Anna and the guy disappearing around the corner. Evan’s stomach twisted at the thought of him walking her to her door. Or worse, going inside with her.
Boxing out the image, Evan rolled the window partway down. “This isn’t the best time, Marissa.”
Headlights circled past them as the black Escalade turned the bend and careened in the opposite direction. Evan’s hand sloped down the face of the steering wheel. At least he still had GPS on them.
“No time like the present.” Marissa hiccupped. “Isn’t that what you always say? Or is it some Ranger motto. I can’t remember.” An airy giggle flittered into the car.
Was she drunk? Releasing a hard breath, he stashed his gun in the glove box, unlocked the door, and pushed it open for her.
Marissa sank onto the seat as if relieved to be off her feet. “You soldiers think you have it tough, but woo, I’m telling you. Girls . . .” She slid off her heels. “We’re the real warriors.”
Warrior? Wasted and in an outfit that left little to the imagination, she could convince most any guy on this block to call her whatever she wanted. But all he felt was pity.
He’d tried with her. Tried to talk himself into being in a relationship. But she wasn’t Anna. No one ever would be. He had his training, his missions. There was no point looking for anything else. He knew better than to complicate his path.
“You know what? You’re right. No time like the present. We need to talk.”
An alcohol-infused laugh trickled from Marissa’s glossed lips. “So serious,” she said in a baby voice while cupping his cheek. “Lighten up. The night’s still young.”
Keeping his calm, Evan transferred her hand to her lap. “What are you doing out this late?”
She lifted a finger to her mouth. “Shh . . .” The slurred noise intensified the stench of alcohol already overtaking the car. “I’m undercover.”
If he hadn’t grown up with a drunkard as a poor excuse for a father, he might’ve been tempted to throw back a few brews himself right about now. “Undercover for what?”
“Uh-uh-uh.” She wagged a finger at him. “We said we’d never kiss and tell, remember?” Grinning, Marissa pressed the same finger into his bicep and leaned against it for balance. “You have your classified missions.” She waved the finger back in her general direction. “And I have mine.”
Evan gritted his teeth.
She must’ve noticed his lack of amusement. Wiggling up in the seat, she smoothed out her silky shirt and her expression. “C’mon, Evan. You didn’t really think I was going to sit in my hotel all week, pining for you while you’re out romping around, did you? I’m a journalist. I’m going to be wherever I can find a story. And let me tell ya. I’m working on a big one.”
She flipped down the visor, popped open the mirror cover, and tweaked her makeup with her fingertips. “You understand the need to be in action better than anyone. That’s why this thing we have between us works.”
A devilish grin flashed his way. “Ooh. Speaking of action. We’re going to a gala on Wednesday. Make sure you rent a tux. People here might not know my name yet, but they’ll sure remember the power couple who walks in and steals the show.”
Evan cupped her shoulders and moved her back into the seat before she got close enough to kiss him. Visuals of that guy sliding his hand over Anna’s back snaked through his mind again.
Marissa fumbled around the door panel for the handle.
Evan clicked the lock button. He might not want to be around her, but he wasn’t going to let her stumble down the street in a drunken stupor, either.
Marissa’s laugh merged into a sigh against the window. She dragged her fingertips along the breath mark left on the glass.
He reached over to buckle her in. “I think it’s time to call it a night.” They’d have their conversation later—when she was coherent and he wasn’t already on edge.
Not to mention he had work to get back to. At least the tracker app had recorded the thugs’ movement. He’d log their routes and figure out where their base was as soon as he returned Marissa to her hotel.
The streetlight outside Anna’s apartment buzzed on and off, each flicker mirroring the static in his head. She had her own life now. He shouldn’t have thought he could slip back into it. He’d serve her better where he belonged. In the shadows.
Chapter Eight
Chains
The tension of not seeing Evan the last two days stung right along with the lactic acid left from Anna’s jazz class early this morning. What was her problem? She’d gone without seeing the guy for five years. She should be a pro at this.
Sprawled in a sunbeam on Anna’s bed, Bailey stretched her legs in opposite directions and yawned. Cats had the life. No drama. No traitorous emotions screwing up their sanity.
Anna crammed three pairs of socks into her top drawer and eyed her sister folding a sweater on her bed. “I can fold my own laundry, you know.”
“That’s debatable.” Reese winked.
Anna gave her a stiff smile, turned, and propped her elbows on the dresser behind her. “You sure you’re not here just ‘cause Dad sent you?”
Hurling a sharp glance her way, Reese clutched a pair of dance shorts above her protruding baby bump. “I’m gonna pretend you didn’t ask that.”
“I’m just saying. It’s not like we’ve hung out a lot lately.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“Aren’t we feisty this morning? Is the baby sitting on a nerve, or something?”
“No worse than you.”
Anna chucked a pair of socks at her.
Reese dodged the incoming missile and flexed both hands on her back. “Seriously, I miss having you nearby.”
“And you call me dramatic? I live a whopping thirty minutes away.” Anna snagged the last pair of leggings from the basket and added them to the pile of clean clothes on her bed.
“Might as well be a world away.”
Hard to argue with that. “You know the Gold Coast isn’t my scene.”
“And you know that’s exactly why Dad worries about you.”
“Because I want to live
my own life?”
She set a hand over Anna’s forearm with an expression equaling the soft gesture. “Because you think you have to abandon roots for freedom.”
If Dad hadn’t turned those roots into chains, maybe things would be different. “Be honest with me, Reese. Did he put a security detail on me again?”
“Truthfully? I don’t know.” She shuffled into Anna’s closet and unhooked a hanger. “But I wouldn’t be surprised. With the Michelli trial going to court on Monday, you know he’s thinking about Mom. Can you blame him?”
Yeah, she could. “Don’t start. Mom died in a car wreck.”
“A wreck that happened right before Dad tried to prosecute Michelli the first time. Why can’t you accept it might’ve been rigged?”
Anna wheeled around. “Because that’d mean they’re in control.” Over her. Over life. It was easier to believe in a world where she still had a say in who hurt her and who didn’t.
“Anna—”
“The investigation ruled it as an accident. End of story.”
“It doesn’t matter. Dad’ll never stop blaming himself for her death.”
Maybe he should blame himself. Mom wouldn’t have had to sneak out that night if she wasn’t trying to flee Dad’s overbearing security.
Shoulders down, Anna twisted the bracelet Mom had given her around her wrist. “If he’s so worried about the case, why doesn’t he sick his Robocop men on you, too?”
Reese flaunted a no-brainer look and hooked one pointer finger over the other. “Let’s see. One, I live within walking distance of him.” She extended a second finger. “Two, I have a husband who looks out for me every day.” Another finger. “Three—”
“I get it.” Anna held up a hand. “I’m the single daughter living in the slums.”
“Again, whose fault is that?” Reese disappeared into the closet. “How many dates have I set you up on?”
“Fifty too many,” Anna mumbled.
She stuck her head around the doorframe. “I heard that.”
Anna turned to keep Reese from seeing her eye roll. Sunlight filtered through the blinds and onto her dresser with a reminder of how long it’d been since she’d last dusted. Life kept her plenty busy. Why did it have to feel like something was missing?
She set her brush down and swiped her favorite knit beanie from the top of her jewelry box. “I don’t need a line of suitors, Reese. I just need the right one,” she said more to herself.
“Oh my word. What is this?”
Anna’s mind sprinted through a rapid inventory of what she kept in her closet. She jogged over. “What?”
Reese waddled out with a scrapbook open in her arms.
Crap. Anna reached for it. “Give me that.”
Reese pulled away and crawled over the mattress to the other side of the room.
“Reese!” Anna scurried across the bed after her, but she’d already sailed around the corner to the door.
She flipped the pages while backing down the hallway. “Tell me this isn’t a shrine to Evan.”
“It’s a scrapbook from high school. He’s a photographer, remember?” Or used to be one, anyway. Anna snatched the album from her and cradled it to her chest.
“Wow. This explains so much.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The right guy, Anna? All this time, you haven’t moved on. No wonder you won’t give any of your dates a chance.”
Really? “Give me a break. Those pompous lawyers are nowhere near Evan’s league.”
Reese’s stark expression all but screamed the comment she didn’t have to say. “Please don’t get started on an Evan-roll, or I might have to stuff a leg warmer in your mouth.”
Anna cocked her head. “He used to be like a kid brother to you, in case you’ve forgotten twenty-plus years of your life. What’s your problem with him?”
“Oh, gee, I don’t know. Might have something to do with watching my little sister bawl her eyes out after he ran out of the first audition she’d been to without her mom. Seriously, how long did you wait in that hallway, thinking he’d come back?”
She wasn’t about to admit the answer to that.
“Has he even bothered to offer you an explanation since he’s been home?”
Anna’s lips thinned. Any other gut-wrenching questions she wanted to sling at her?
“That’s what I thought.” Reese pried the book from Anna’s hands and set it on the end table beside them. “You guys were glued at the hip over half your lives. Don’t you think if something were gonna happen between you two, it would’ve by now?”
“We were best friends. Neither of us wanted to ruin that.” And yet they had. Because of her.
Reese sobered. “He left you, Anna. What does that say about how he feels?”
The sting of regret and rejection slithered inside and coiled around her heart. She’d tried to mask it with so many things. Dance. The rec center. Serving the community. Doing anything to prove pain in life didn’t have the final say. But the truth resurfaced like phantom pains from a limb she lost when he left.
She couldn’t pinpoint the moment she’d fallen in love with him. Maybe it’d been from the very beginning. But she’d never forget the night she pushed him away. One slipup of almost kissing him, and he was gone a week later.
She glared at her sister. “Thanks for the encouragement.”
“I’m sorry.” Tipping her head to the side, Reese squeezed Anna’s fingers. “But it’s time you moved on. He obviously has.”
Part of Anna prayed she was wrong. A deeper part knew she wasn’t.
Still holding her hands, Reese wiggled Anna’s arms. “Shake it off, girl. You’re a gorgeous, talented, available woman. Bring a date to Dad’s Thanksgiving party.” She pitched a manicured brow. “A girlfriendless date. And finish the last month of the year as if it were the beginning.” She nodded, voice softening. “It’s time, Anna.”
Except time was no different from love. Moving forward wouldn’t sever the connections to her past. Whether roots or chains, they’d never let go.
“About Thanksgiving . . .”
“Uh-uh.” Reese wriggled up her little five-foot-two frame as tall as it would go. “You’re not getting out of this.”
And Evan called her stubborn. Anna started for the door. “My audition is Friday. I need to be rehearsing nonstop.”
“A day off isn’t gonna kill you. Mom would want you there.”
Anna turned. “She’d want me to make the callback.”
“She’d want you to put family first.” Reese’s crisscrossed arms sealed her resolve.
Two sides of Anna’s heart pulled at the fissure running down the middle. Mom made her family her life and encouraged them to do the same. But she’d also made Anna promise not to lose herself. How did she expect Anna to do both when she knew what life with Dad was like?
Memories from her senior year zinged with regret. Anna had let the pursuit of a professional dance career crowd out everything that had real meaning. She’d stopped going to the rec center with Mom, insisting she couldn’t afford to spend any time away from training. Then she was gone, and it was too late for Anna to make up for her selfishness.
Reese rubbed her belly. “If you won’t come for Mom, at least come for little man, here.”
The wry smile on Reese’s face drew Anna out of the past. She shook her head. “Way to make it so I can’t say no.”
“Well, I am married to a lawyer. Persuasion kind of runs in the family.”
On Dad’s side, anyway. Good thing Anna had more of Mom’s genes.
Guilt conquered any last chance she could decline. Mom would want her with the family. For that reason alone, Anna would go.
She looped her scarf around her neck and offered Reese the most genuine smile she could assemble. “I gotta run. Will you be all right getting home?”
“Mark’s sending a car.” Reese grabbed her hand. “Promise me you’ll find a date.”
“I’ll try.”
She might as well spend the evening before her audition practicing her performance skills. Anna tossed her bag over her shoulder, tipped her head at Reese, and kissed her on the cheek. “See you tomorrow.”
She needed to get back to the studio to clear her head. ASAP.
Once outside, Anna slipped in her earbuds to hold thoughts from their conversation at bay. But as soon as she neared Sip and Savor Chicago, the floodgates reopened. Great. Evan had only been home a few days, and he’d already colored over her routine with new memories she’d be stuck missing once he left again.
“Annabelle?” A guy she didn’t recognize retraced his steps on the sidewalk and looked her over. “Annabelle Madison, right?”
She tugged her earbuds out. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
The red marks left on his cheeks from the cold deepened. “Not exactly.” He pulled on his ear. “I’m a JD student at the University of Chicago. I’ve been hoping to get an internship at the DA’s office.”
Of course that’s what this was about. Her father. Anna resituated her bag. “Well, good luck with that. I need to get going.” Without waiting for a reply, she opened the door to the café.
A woman in a business suit and florescent orange sneakers bumped Anna’s shoulder on her way out. Why couldn’t Anna have been that invisible a minute ago?
After the eager soon-to-be lawyer left, she crept back outside. He’d reminded her of a phone call she needed to make. One the entire coffee shop didn’t need to hear.
Dad answered on the third ring. “Annabelle, everything all right?”
“That depends. Did you put a security detail on me again?”
His hesitation answered for him. “Anna, the trial—”
“Is going to come and go just like any trial.” She paced the sidewalk. “I can’t believe you. We talked about this. How could you put someone on me and not even tell me.”
“I never said I did.”
“You didn’t have to. You know what? Forget it. I gotta go.” She jammed her cell into her coat pocket and strode back into the café’s warm aromas.
A middle-aged man behind the counter offered a sympathetic smile. “Rough morning?”
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