by Anna Blakely
The question was lame as fuck, but at the moment he wasn’t sure what else to say.
She grinned. “Actually, no. Four is the current record. You’d be amazed at how dirty you can get when you’re redecorating.” With a tip of her chin, the gorgeous woman gestured toward the phone still in his hand. “Who were you talking to?”
Schooling his expression, Mike bypassed the question by giving her a different truth. “Detective Morales called. They’re declaring it a good shoot.”
Thank God...and Jake McQueen.
Just thinking about McQueen made him want to shake his head in awe. Growing up, Mike had no idea his best friend would end up being one of the country’s most influential men among law enforcement. Or that Jake would be his brother-in-law and his boss.
But Mike was damn glad he was all those things. Especially now.
Juliet bit her bottom lip, the simple act sending his libido into overdrive. “So, that’s it? You aren’t in any sort of trouble?”
“Nope.”
“Thank God,” she parroted his thought. Her relief was palpable, but then she bit that damn lip again. Sounding a bit too casual for his liking, she asked, “Did he say anything about who the guy was or why he came after me?”
Mike watched her closely, “The name Aaron Schreiber ring any bells?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Should it?”
Aaand...there it was. The tiny twitch.
We really need to work on that trust thing, baby.
The irony of that thought wasn’t lost on him. But damn it, this was her life they were talking about.
Mike ran a hand over his jaw. “I just want to find out what’s going on, here, Jules.”
Juliet’s brows turned inward with an angry scowl. Sounding more defensive than she needed to be, she popped off with, “You think I don’t? I was the one with that freaking gun to my head, remember?”
For as long as I live, I’ll never forget it.
“I’m just trying to help.”
The skin on her forehead smoothed almost instantly and she sighed, regret filling her beautiful features. “I know you are. I’m sorry. I just want to go home, see my cat, and try to forget this whole thing even happened.”
Good luck with that, sweetheart.
“So let’s go.”
She blinked. “I thought my place was sealed off.”
“Not anymore. That was another thing Detective Morales told me. We’ve both been cleared of any wrongdoing, so we’re free and clear to go wherever we want.”
“Wow.” Her brows rose high. “That was fast.”
That’s what happens when you work for a man like McQueen.
“Guess Morales runs a pretty tight ship.” He turned and went for their bags. “Come on. I figured we could check out and then go grab some breakfast. After that, I’ll take you home.”
“That’s nice of you to offer, but you don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to, Jules.” He faced her again. “I want to.”
Biting that damn lip again, she nodded and said, “Okay.”
After an hour filled with bacon, eggs, and small talk, they were in his truck and headed back to her house. The ride from the restaurant had been fairly quiet, each one sporadically filling the awkward silence with more random conversation.
“Sorry if I woke you up last night.”
Mike kept his eyes on the road in front of him. “You didn’t.”
“Liar.”
There was a touch of humor in her tired voice, but she was right. He was lying. Seemed to be all he did where Juliet was concerned.
But Mike knew if he told Juliet the truth—that her tossing and turning, and soft whimpers had kept him from sleeping—she’d feel even worse than she already did. So he lied. Again.
Gotta cut that shit out, man.
The voice in his head was right. He needed to quit being dishonest about shit and start telling her the fucking truth for a change. Starting with who he really was.
Soon. I’ll tell her soon.
First, he needed to figure out why that bastard Schreiber broke into her house and tried to murder her in cold blood. What happened last night wasn’t random, no matter how many times she tried playing it off as if it were.
Pulling up to the curb in front of her house, Mike parked behind her white Toyota Rav4. When they left last night, she’d tried talking him into letting her follow him to the hotel. He’d stood his ground, insisting they ride together, just in case.
If she didn’t like the idea of sharing a vehicle to the hotel last night, she was going to love what he had planned for them today.
“Thanks, again. For everything.” Juliet unbuckled her seatbelt and glanced over at him. “It seems like an odd thing to say after what you did for me, but...” She offered him a slight grin. “It’s all I’ve got.”
“Told you last night, you don’t have to thank me for that.” Mike pulled the keys from the ignition and opened his door. He stopped when he felt her small hand on his arm.
“You killed a man for me, Jay. I never wanted...” Juliet’s eyes glistened as she licked her ruby red lips. “I never thought you’d have to do that. Not for me.”
With a look he prayed she could feel to her soul, Mike told her, “I’d kill a hundred times over and not think twice about it, if it meant keeping you safe.”
Her lips parted, her sharp intake of air filling every crevice of the vehicle’s interior. Not giving her a chance to respond to his bold statement, he climbed out of the truck and shut the door behind him.
After giving her a hand as she slid out of the passenger seat, Mike pressed the lock on his key fob and started up the sidewalk, toward her house.
“Jay, wait. My bags.”
Mike ground his teeth together. The more he heard that name falling off her lips, the more he resented the hell out of it.
“We’re not staying,” he blurted, immediately regretting it. He’d planned on easing her into the idea of coming back to Dallas to stay with him.
“What do you mean, we’re not staying?”
“Just what I said. We’ll go in, get your cat and whatever else you need, and then we’re leaving.”
“Leaving?” She walked double-time to catch up to him. “To go where?”
“Dallas.”
Juliet laughed. “I’m not going to Dallas, Jay. I have a home here. Not to mention my job.”
“You also have someone who wants you dead. Until we know who and why, it’s not safe for you to be here.”
“The man who wanted me dead is lying on a slab in the morgue. It’s over.”
Stopping just before the door, Mike spun around to face her. “Schreiber worked for your dad, Jules.”
Juliet’s shoulders shook with a half-chuckle. “A lot of guys worked for my father.”
“Yeah? How many of them have put a fucking gun to your head?” She flinched, making Mike feel like a total prick. Still, he couldn’t seem to let it go. “You knew Schreiber, didn’t you?”
“What?” She frowned. “No. I-I didn’t—”
“I saw the look in your eye when I said his name. You recognized it. Question is, do you know why he came here last night?”
“I told you, I don’t—”
“Damn it, Jules. I’m trying to help y—”
A loud crash came from inside the house.
“What was that?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“I don’t know.” Mike shook his head. Reaching for the gun he had hidden at his waistband, he whispered, “Stay here.”
“Uh...not a chance.” She peered up at him.
Knowing they didn’t have time to argue, he let out a low curse. “Fine. Stay right on my six and do as I say. No arguing.”
Though she looked like she wanted to say something more, Juliet gave him a single nod. “Fine.”
With his gun in one hand, Mike used the other to unlock the door. Opening it as silently as possible, he scanned the immediate area for threats.
> The open living and dining areas made it easy for him to quickly assess the situation. From what he could see, it wasn’t good.
The place was in shambles. Overturned furniture, broken lamps and picture frames, and cushions that had been ripped to shreds all pointed to someone with a serious beef against Juliet.
Son of a bitch.
Her sharp intake of air told him she’d seen the disheveled state of her home, as well. With a finger to his lips, he motioned over his shoulder for her to be silent as he slowly made his way through the door.
Starting with the main floor, they cleared every possible nook and cranny. Room by room, Mike made certain there were no viable threats there before leading Juliet upstairs.
His rage grew when he realized the second floor was in even worse shape than the first. Especially Juliet’s bedroom.
By the time they were finished, adrenaline had his heart racing a mile a minute, and Juliet was still holding onto his belt loop as if her life depended on it. After double-checking the small, partitioned back yard, he turned to face her.
Shoving his Glock 40 back into his jeans at the small of his back, he muttered, “All clear.”
Unshed tears blanketed the fear in her eyes. “Who would do this?”
“I think you know who.” Mike stared back at her.
With anger replacing her fear, Juliet fisted her hands at her sides and took a step toward him. “My father is locked away in a federal prison. So is Ivan, for that matter.”
“Come on, Jules. You know as well as I do that doesn’t mean shit. They want someone taken out, there are plenty of people like Schreiber to do their dirty work. Question is, why you?”
“I don’t know!” Juliet insisted sharply.
Mike thought for a moment. “Call Mikhail. If your father did send his people after you, maybe he knows something that can help us.”
All color left her face, her voice lowering to just above a whisper. “What?”
“Mikhail...you know, your brother? Call him. See if he’s heard anything.”
Mikhail may be Alexandar Volkov’s son, but Mike had gotten to know the guy pretty damn well while he was undercover. Unlike their father and Ivan, Juliet’s youngest brother wasn’t a bad guy. He’d just never been given an option when it came to the family business.
“Oh, my God.” Stumbling back, Juliet dropped into one of the kitchen bar stools that wasn’t overturned. “You don’t know.”
“Know what?”
Juliet licked her lips, those damn tears welling in her eyes again. “Mikhail’s dead, Jay.”
“What?” Mike could feel his own eyes bugging out of his head. “When?”
“About a year and a half ago. Right after he testified at Dad’s trial.”
“What the hell happened?”
Juliet simply shrugged. “It’s...a long story.”
“One that might clue us in on what’s happening now.”
“No.” She shook her head. “It won’t.”
“You just said he died right after the trial,” Mike pointed out. “There’s a good chance that whatever happened to Mikhail is related to what’s going on with you.”
“It’s not.” Juliet spoke with utter certainty. “At least, not in the way you’re thinking.”
“How can you be so sure?” Mike pressed on.
A tear escaped the corner of her eye. “Because Mikhail killed himself.”
Oh, shit. “Ah, Jules.” He went to her. “I’m so sorry.”
Swiping the tear away, she shrugged and looked away. “It is what it is.”
Unable to let it go, Mike said, “I get that Mikhail wasn’t a stone-cold asshole like your dad or Ivan, but he never struck me as the suicidal type.”
“Who knows?” Juliet stood from the stool. “People kill themselves all the time, Jay. Maybe Mikhail was depressed. Or maybe he’d finally had enough of our family and wanted out. Doesn’t matter now, anyway.” Putting her back to him, she made some kissing sounds and called out for her cat. “Lydia, where are you? Here kitty, kitty.”
She doesn’t want to talk about it, right now. Message received.
Dropping it—for now—Mike went along with the change in subject. “Maybe she heard whoever made this mess come in and ran off.”
“This is the only home she’s ever known. Minus the shelter I adopted her from. But she was a tiny kitten when I first got her. She wouldn’t even know where to run off to outside these walls. Kitty, kitty,” she hollered for her beloved pet again. Going to the cabinet near the cat’s food and water dish, Juliet grabbed a small bag of cat treats and shook it. “I have something for you...”
“Jules, we cleared every room in the house.”
“Cats are extremely intelligent and resourceful.” She shook the bag again. “Not to mention Lydia is very bendy.”
Mike smirked. “Bendy?”
Juliet’s blue eyes met his, humor lifting the cloud of sadness that had dimmed the light there. “You wouldn’t believe some of the places she’s squeezed herself into.” Shaking the bag a third time, she walked into the living room and called out for her cat again. “Lydia! Come on, kitty. Come get your treat.”
Worry had just started seeping into her expression when they heard a small noise coming from the overturned bookshelf to their right. At first glance, Mike thought there was no way anything could fit under there. But when a tiny gray and white face peeked out from a gap between the floor and the shelf, he knew his assumption was wrong.
“There you are.” Juliet walked over to the timid animal. “It’s okay, Lydia. You’re safe, now.”
As if the cat had actually understood what Juliet had said, Lydia squeezed herself out from under the shelf and went to her. Picking her up, Juliet cooed and cuddled the pretty feline, rubbing her nose across the top of Lydia’s head.
Hugging the cat to her chest, she talked to her pet as if she were a baby. “Were you scared? I bet you were, weren’t you?”
Biting the inside of his cheek, Mike tried to hide his smile. He failed.
“What?” Juliet caught sight of his grin.
“Nothing.” He quickly schooled his expression.
“Do you have any pets?”
Mike shook his head. “My job isn’t really conducive to owning a living creature.”
“What do you do, now?”
Damn it. He’d opened that particular door without even thinking. “I work for a security company.”
It was the standard answer he and the others often gave civilians until and unless they needed to know more. Not that R.I.S.C. was a big secret. In fact, it was well-known and respected by government and law enforcement officials around the country.
But since he hadn’t shared his true identity with Juliet yet, he figured it was the best place to start.
Surprise flashed across her face. “A security company hired you? Even with your record?”
Still quick on the uptake, I see.
“You’d be surprised how many places overlook criminal records. Especially when the applicant possesses specific skillsets they’re looking for.”
Another vague truth. There were a lot of businesses willing to ignore a guy’s rap sheet. They just weren’t the kinds of places Mike would ever work for.
Eying him closely, she continued to pet the purring cat as she asked, “Do I even want to know what skillset you possess?”
A muscle in his jaw twitched. So did his dick. “I’m a man of many talents, baby.”
Heat filled her baby blues as she picked up on the hidden meaning of his words. “I remember.”
Momentarily forgetting someone had broken into Juliet’s home for the second time in as many days, Mike started to lean toward her. At the same time, the cat jumped out of Juliet’s arms, breaking the electrifying spell.
“Guess she wanted down,” he muttered low as he watched Lydia take off in a sudden sprint toward the kitchen.
“Yeah.” Juliet smiled, the flush in her cheeks telling him she’d been just as turne
d on as he was. “She’s a very quirky cat. At one point, I actually considered changing her name to Spaz.”
Mike laughed “Spaz?”
“Trust me.” She snorted. “If you stick around a while, you’ll see why.”
“I’m not sticking around here at all, and neither are you. Remember?”
“I remember you telling me I was going to Dallas. I don’t remember agreeing to it.”
“You can’t be serious.” Mike rested his hands on his hips. “Look around, Jules. First, a guy breaks in here with the intent of killing you, and now this?”
“This isn’t your problem.”
“Well, I’m making it my problem. And if you think I’m going to walk away and leave you here to deal with this shit alone, you’ve lost your damn mind.”
Crossing her arms, Juliet jutted her adorable chin. “I meant it when I thanked you for what you did, but just because you saved my life last night doesn’t give you the right to tell me what I can and cannot do with it, now.”
“Whoever’s after you will come back. You get that, right?”
“Maybe, but—”
“You’re coming with me to Dallas, Jules,” Mike ordered the stubborn woman. “Even if I have to drag that fine ass of yours out of here kicking and screaming.”
“Oh, is that right?”
He stared her down. “That’s right.”
With narrowed slits, she glared up at him and smirked. “Well, we’ll just see about that.”
Forty-five minutes and another argument later, Juliet had packed a few more things and she, Mike, and Lydia were in his truck, headed for Dallas.
While she was upstairs packing, Mike had slipped outside to call Jake. With a quick explanation of the situation, he’d then asked his friend to go to his place and clean out everything with the name Mike Bradshaw on it, along with anything else that could potentially give his true identity away.
He knew he needed to tell Juliet the truth soon, and he would. He just didn’t want her finding out on her own before he worked up the courage to do it himself.
During the long car ride there, Mike had opened his mouth ten different times to come clean about everything. But every time he tried, he couldn’t seem to find the words.
The truth was, he was afraid to tell her. He needed her to trust him now, more than ever, so he could keep her close and keep her safe. If he told her now, chances were, she’d tell him to go to hell and take off.