After Hours

by Jodi Lynn Copeland

  Wrapping her arms around her too-exposed chest, she narrowed her gaze. “Did you ever really want me, or was this all just some game to you and your sister?”

  Andy took a step toward her. She took one back and he halted. “Yes! Hell, yes, I wanted you. I’ll always want you, and my sister is as innocent as they come. This is no game, Tawny. This is serious.” He dragged a hand through his hair and swore. “My brother-in-law’s on his way over and he’s angry. I’ve never been around him when he’s volatile, never guessed he could even get that way until a couple days ago. From the fear in my sister’s voice, he gets that way. According to Joyce it isn’t just temper he’s packing either.”

  5

  A ndy hurried into his clothes, growing more upset with each passing second.

  Shit, he’d royally screwed things up, with his sister and with Tawny. He couldn’t reverse the hostile words and the slap Joyce told him Rick had given her upon learning she’d been listening in on his conversation. He could only protect her from further hurt. As for Tawny, he didn’t know where to begin.

  Had he stuck with the plan and told her the truth the moment he’d arrived tonight, or any time in the last week, she might not be glaring at him now, like she was torn between staying put in the bedroom as he’d asked or making a break for it. He hadn’t stuck with the plan. He’d arrived at her home, taken one look at her barely clothed body dripping with anticipation, and let his dick rule his mind.

  Maybe it was too late for the truth, but it was all he had to give. “Rick hired me to investigate you.” He talked fast as he yanked on his shirt. “He claimed you were using Joyce to learn inside information about his ad firm and then selling that information to someone at Neilson. I knew you—”

  “Investigate me?” Tawny stopped tugging on a pair of jeans to look at him incredulously. “You’re a rent-a-cop?”

  “Private investigator, and I knew from nearly the beginning that you were innocent. What I didn’t know is that my brother-in-law’s guilty. If what Joyce heard is true, then there never was an information leak at Rick’s firm. His company’s struggling to survive. He set us both up in the hopes I’d bring back information from Neilson that he could use to make a profit and get his financers off his back.”

  Her glare turned lethal. “You prick. You’re not the victim here. Don’t even pretend like you are.”

  “Not to the extent you are,” Andy agreed, wishing he had the time to choose his words carefully. The last thing he wanted from her was pity. He deserved every ounce of her anger. “I’m sorry about this, Tawny. I swear I came over here tonight intending to tell you everything. But then you—”

  “Acted like the sex-driven woman with the uncontrollable mouth you were counting on me to be.” She shook her head, self-ridicule filling her eyes. “I made it so easy on you—let you into my home without question, into my bed. My life. Tell me, what exactly were you hoping to learn by fucking me?”

  Temper burned through Andy. He knew he’d hurt her, but he’d be damned if she’d stand there and demean what they had shared. He crossed to her and pulled her against him, locking her arms beneath his. She wriggled and kicked, coming centimeters from doing serious damage to his groin. He held fast, determined to make her understand how much more they had between them than lies. How much he cared. “Nothing. Not a goddamned thing. And it wasn’t fucking. It was—”

  Heavy pounding came from the front of the house. “Open the door!” Rick’s shout reverberated through the walls. “I know you’re in there, Korben, screwing the chick responsible for destroying my business.”

  Son of a bitch. What timing. What bad damned timing.

  Andy bent his head and slanted his mouth over Tawny’s, kissing her despite her continued attempts at escape. One quick rub of his tongue against hers, one quick taste of her spicy-sweet flavor, and he released her. She retreated fast, backing herself into the corner between the bed and her closet. Rage and fear warred in her eyes.

  Christ, he was no better than Rick, handling her in a way that frightened her. Rick’s shout came again, followed by fierce knocking that silenced Andy’s attempt at further apologies. If he left the man to his devices, Rick would be breaking in by any means possible.

  “Call the cops and then stay put. Unless you hear gunshots.” The color washed from her face. She’d always been so vibrant, so loud and out there. Now she looked timid, and he hated himself for making her that way. He wanted to pull her back into his arms and tell her everything would be okay. He ignored that want, and instead nodded at the window that faced the street. “You hear gunshots, climb out the window. Find a house or car to hide in and don’t come out until the cops arrive.”

  Andy went to the bedroom door. With a last look at Tawny, he moved through, closing it behind him. He yanked open the front door just as Rick’s pounding started up again. He forced a serene expression, when all he wanted to do was put his fist in the man’s face for hurting his sister and invading Tawny’s life. “Rick, what’s all the shouting about?”

  Hatred shot from the man’s dark eyes and turned his mouth in a sneer that was nearly eaten up by the overgrowth of his blond beard. Ruddy color stained his cheeks. “Don’t play stupid with me, Korben. I know she’s here.” He elbowed past Andy and started through the living room.

  Andy grabbed the sleeve of Rick’s jacket, jerking him backward. Violence wasn’t something Andy supported. At the same time, he was trained to fight and to win. He was also trained to keep cool in intense situations and, at the moment, was doing a shitty job of it.

  Andy inhaled a calming breath. He had to make this thing impersonal, separate his feelings from his actions and words. He’d failed to do that last week, and look where it had gotten him: pissed-off-at by one person and looking to get his ass kicked by another. “Leave Tawny out of this. She has nothing to do with your company being in the red. Joyce heard you on the phone. She heard that you lied to me about the info leak. There never was a leak, was there?”

  “That sniveling bitch.”

  So much for keeping things impersonal. Fury pushed at Andy. He balled his fists, unable to contain the heat in his voice. “Talk about my sister that way again and I promise you won’t be standing.”

  “Oh, yeah, what you gonna do?” Rick pushed his hand inside his jacket pocket and returned with a 9mm. He pointed the nose toward Andy’s chest. “Take on a loaded gun?”

  Apparently Rick was looking to do more than kick his ass. Joyce had warned him Rick was packing. He’d hoped she’d been mistaken. Andy had left his gun at home, not wanting to risk Tawny finding it and panicking. Hand-to-hand combat, he could beat Rick. Bringing a gun into the equation, particularly when the gun was held by a man motivated by financial desperation, upped the odds in that man’s favor.

  Fear that Rick would do something stupid trickled through Andy. He shrugged it off and tossed a cocky smile at his brother-in-law. “Wouldn’t be anything I haven’t done before. Little hint, Rick: Those guys I took down in the past are in prison, right where you’re going to be if you don’t hand over the gun.”

  Rick shook his head. Dirty-blond hair stuck to his cheeks and forehead. As little as a few months ago, Rick had been in decent shape, clean looking. His looks now were as revolting as his expression. “Think again, dickhead. I’m not going to jail. Joyce’ll never talk. She’ll just crawl into the same pathetic shell she always does. You, you’ll be six feet under, alongside your trashy girlfriend.”

  Andy had been the one to suggest Tawny was trashy. He’d meant it as a misguided compliment. Rick made it sound like she was a five-dollar-an-hour whore. The urge to put his fist in the man’s mouth returned to riot through him. The gun Rick waved at his chest stopped him. Three feet away, the weapon looked small. Andy knew better. He’d seen the brunt of its impact, the deadly holes left behind in the victims. Raising a hand against Rick without some form of distraction was out of the question.

  Andy searched the room for a weapon. “Fine. No jail time.
Get the hell out of here and we’ll forget everything.”

  “I’m not going anywhere without the chick.”

  “She’s not going—”

  “I’ll go.” Tawny stood at the end of the hallway that led into the living room from the bathroom and bedrooms. Her hair was pulled back neatly in a ponytail, and not a trace of the fear he’d witnessed in the bedroom could be found in her eyes. Just steely hard resolve, the kind Andy wished he could feel. Any other time, any other case, and he would feel that way. This case had messed with his head, his heart. This case he’d never had a clue who the bad guy was until it was too late.

  Hands in the air, Tawny moved slowly toward Rick. “Whatever you think I’ve done, I’ll go with you and admit to it. Just leave Andy alone. He did what you asked, lied to me to find your answers. Slept with me to learn more of the same.” Her gaze shifted to Andy and hurt passed through her eyes. “He was good to his word. A regular seek-and-destroy prick. Let him go.”

  Snickering, Rick pushed a hand through his hair, knocking the greasy strands back in place. “Your devotion’s amusing, but I don’t think so, sweetheart. Neither of you’s leaving.” He pointed the gun at Tawny, then back at Andy. “Get over there with him, and don’t try anything stupid. Unless you want a hole in that pretty forehead.”

  Tawny crossed to Andy, shrinking away when her arm brushed his. “You can’t keep us here forever.”

  “Right on, sweetheart. I can’t. Not alive, anyway.” She gasped and his lip curled in a derisive smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll aim for a place no one’s ever gonna see again. Makes you feel better, I’ll take care of lover boy here first.”

  Enough. He’d had enough of Rick’s twisted mind. Andy had told Joyce he wouldn’t hurt her husband if it could be avoided. It couldn’t be avoided. Before this thing was over, one or both of them was going to get hurt. “Put the gun down, Rick. You don’t want to end your life this way.”

  Rick’s eyes glimmered with amusement as he turned them on Andy. “Who said anything about ending mine, bro?”

  “You really think I’ll let you hurt us?”

  “I’d like to see you stop me.”

  The second-to-last thing Andy wanted was to give Tawny another reason to hate him. The last thing he wanted was for either of them to die tonight. Time and groveling might earn Tawny’s forgiveness; neither would accomplish a damned thing if one or both of them were dead.

  He stepped a few inches forward, far enough to get Andy’s attention, and gave Tawny a hard shove in the side. With a shriek, she flew toward the wall. The thud of her hitting either it or the floor registered in Andy’s mind and then was quickly forgotten as he charged at Rick. The man’s gaze ratcheted from Tawny to Andy. His eyes bugged as Andy rammed into him. Andy grabbed Rick’s weapon hand, twisting the wrist so that the gun faced away from everyone. He’d never wrestled with his brother-in-law. The man was chunkier than he’d been months ago, and still stronger than he looked. Either that, or adrenaline made it seem that way.

  “You fucking idiot,” Rick spewed, slamming a fist toward Andy’s ribs and connecting before he could block the blow.

  Pain exploded in Andy’s gut. He winced at the idea that his sister might have felt that same fist pounding into her. The thought fueled his strength, had him twisting harder at Rick’s gun hand and bringing his free arm up around the man’s neck. He clamped down, constricting his grip on Rick’s throat.

  He expected Rick to drop the gun, to claw at the arm stealing his breath. Instead, Rick’s free hand reached for his own weapon hand. Placing that free meaty hand over Andy’s, Rick pried the hands fighting over the gun around until the gun pointed inches from Andy’s side. The soft snick of a bullet engaging slid through Andy’s mind, followed by the metallic ring of release and the sting of tearing flesh and muscle.

  “Son of a bitch.” White-hot pain sliced through Andy’s middle.

  Tawny yelped and came into view as a charging blur of red. She crashed into them, sending a fresh course of ache through his body and disengaging his arm from Rick’s neck. Rick staggered and went down in the process releasing the hand that had covered Andy’s. Ignoring his pain and Tawny’s shouts to run, Andy leapt on his brother-in-law and once more captured the man’s gun hand. He used his advantage from above, jabbing a knee into Rick’s gut as he pried at the gun. Rick wriggled like the slimy worm he was. Andy believed the move to be a last-ditch effort at escape. As Rick’s legs came up, fastening around his middle, he realized otherwise.

  Rick thrust his weight to the side and rolled them over until he straddled Andy from above. With a snicker he dug his fist against the wound in Andy’s side. Blood seeped out, staining Andy’s shirt and the floor with crimson red. His vision wavered; spots danced before his eyes.

  “Not a smart move, bro,” Rick mocked. “Now you’re gonna die.”

  Death wasn’t an option—not when he knew Tawny and Joyce would be the next to feel the effects of Rick’s rage. Andy shut out the ache and the oily sensation gathering at the back of his throat. He turned his strength on the hand still holding Rick’s. Grunting with the effort, he managed to bring the gun around, but only far enough to have it pointing at his own head. Damn, he’d never be able to get it on Rick.

  Red filled Andy’s blurred vision. Red he guessed to be blood filling the backs of his eyes as death worked its way over his body. Any day was a shitty one to die, but knowing Tawny hated him made this one all that much worse.

  Somewhere above him, metal crunched against bone. Rick’s cry filled the air. Andy struggled for one last chance at escape. He dug his fingers into his brother-in-law’s wrist and gave it a final twist. Rick’s body lurched and then jerked toward him. The hand holding the gun went limp, followed by the rest of his big, beefy body. Rick toppled over him, stealing the breath from Andy’s lungs and shooting shards of razor-edged pain dancing through his middle.

  “Oh, god, I killed him!”

  Tawny’s panicked words registered. He moved his head to the side and forced his eyes to focus through the haze of hurt shrouding him. Her hand shook as she brought it to her mouth. Wide-eyed, she backed up. She slammed into the couch from behind and a shadeless lamp fell from her hand to the carpet. “I didn’t mean to kill him,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean it.

  “Tawny?”

  Her gaze flew to Andy’s face. As panic was replaced by concern, she hurried to his side and helped roll Rick off. Her throat worked visibly as she focused on the red soaking through Andy’s shirt and onto the carpet. Tears glistened in her eyes as she brought her eyes back to his own. “Andy…you’re not…?”

  “I’m fine. He…nicked me.” Rick had done more than nick him, but for her sake he played at strength. Pressing a hand over his wound to staunch the flow of blood, he commanded his voice not to waver and give away the severity of his injury. “You sure he’s dead?”

  She glanced at Rick’s prone body and shivered. “I don’t know. I’m afraid to touch him again.”

  “Then don’t. The cops should be here any second; go wait for them. Tell them we need an ambulance immediately.” He laughed, hoping the sound would belie his next words. “Better make that two.”

  She stood, backing up slowly. “Okay. Okay, I can do that.”

  “Tawny?” Keeping the waver from his voice was no longer possible. Talking hurt like a bitch. Just in case he bled out before an ambulance arrived, he risked the pain. “We had more than lies. We always will.”

  She licked her lips, her eyes conveying that she wanted to trust him. Sirens wailed in the near distance. She nodded slowly, whispering, “I’d like to believe that, Andy, but I don’t think I can,” then opened the door and stepped out into the night.

  Tawny pulled aside the curtain and peered through the window next to the front door. Her heart sped at the sight of the man who’d filled her thoughts for days now. Andy stood on the front porch, his eyes imploring her to forgive him while his mouth asked her to let him in. She wanted to forgive him,
wanted back the happiness he’d unexpectedly brought into her life. But how could she forgive him when he’d lied to her yet again?

  He’d claimed Rick had only nicked him. In truth, the bullet had missed the lower lobes of his lungs and his spine by millimeters. He was lucky to be walking after a week of recovery time, let alone to be alive.

  Emotion rose in her throat at the thought of him being dead. She couldn’t turn him away. He tried to protect her against a madman. For that he deserved to say whatever he’d come to say.

  She opened the door and fisted her hands at her sides. He wore no glasses now, no nerdy clothes. His hair was cut and styled, still basic brown and yet somehow so much richer and thicker. He looked too damned good for words. Her sex moistened, her nipples beaded. Tawny ached to tug him into her house and forgive him with her hands and mouth. Instead she said a cool, “What do you want, Andy?”

  He smiled, the dimple sparking to life in his cheek and making her tongue move in her mouth with the need to lick over it. “You already know the answer to that. I want your forgiveness. I want you to believe me when I say it wasn’t just lies between us. You had to feel the truth when we kissed, when we touched, when we made love. And it was lovemaking; don’t you dare say otherwise.”

  Damn her aching heart, but she wanted to believe him now just as badly as she had a week ago. But how could she? She’d blindly opened herself up to him, let him into her life, let him rule her behavior. She’d become brazen, wanton Tawny for him, not just in actions but in truth. And she’d loved being that confident, sexual woman. Loved the power that charged through her when she made Andy shiver and tense with climax, loved laying her hands all over his lean, virile body.

  His body which, beneath his T-shirt and bandages, sported a hole. A wound that could have killed him. Tears pushed to the backs of her eyes. He deserved a lot for his lies, but not death. Never death.