Impact (Iron Orchids Book 3)

by Danielle Norman

  “There are a lot of black Chargers, but I’ll see what I can dig up. In the mean time, you try and get a tag number if you see him again. Here’s my cell number, call me if he’s following you. I’ll get someone there to stop him and find out who he is and why he’s after you. Okay?”

  “Yeah, okay.” I appreciated everything Carter was doing for me, but I didn’t want to get the police involved. If they dug even a little bit into my history and living situation, I was screwed. Not to mention, what if Presley had actually found me… again?

  Bee and I stayed hidden all weekend. I’d wanted to go out looking for apartments, but after the Charger, I decided that my first full weekend employed would be spent reevaluating my life and making a plan for my future.

  Chapter 9

  Damon

  Just as promised, the pavers arrived on Monday morning, and Katy proved herself to be an asset to the company, which of course, I’d already known. I’d spent the next few days just trying to break away pieces of her shell and get to know her a little more, but that was proving harder than I’d imagined.

  I had just stepped out of the shower when my phone rang, and considering no one called me this early unless it was an emergency, I barely bothered to wrap a towel around myself before rushing to answer it.

  Caller ID withheld.

  “This is Damon.”

  “Mr. Christakos, this is the Orlando Police Department. We received a call of suspicious activity on your property in the Windswept subdivision. We have officers on scene, can you meet them there?”

  “Of course. I’ll be right there.” I disconnected and threw on some clothes. Windswept was where Katy and Bee were. Holy shit, were they safe? It was my only thought as I climbed into my truck. I pressed the gas and sped up, blowing through a yellow light, okay maybe it was orange—that spot where it was just turning red. My tires skidded as I slid to a stop in front of the model home. Throwing my truck into park, I jumped out.

  “What’s going on? Is anyone hurt?” I raced up to the first officer I saw.

  “One second, sir.” The officer held an arm out as he proceeded to speak into his radio. Images of Katy and Bee injured flashed across my mind as he took his sweet fucking time answering me. There were two cruisers, so where was the other deputy? Shifting my weight from one foot to the other while the officer relayed a series of ten-codes to dispatch, I looked around but didn’t see Katy or Bee either.

  “Are you Mr. Christakos?” the officer asked, having finally finished his call.

  “Yes.” I pulled out my wallet and showed my ID just as his partner walked over to join us.

  “Earlier this morning, one of our officers saw someone fleeing from one of these homes. He said it appeared to be a woman and a child, both Caucasian with blonde hair.”

  Fuck, it was Katy and Bee. Someone had seen them.

  “Unfortunately, the officer had an arrestee and could not stop. He called it in, and we got here as soon as possible, but the area was clear. Would you like us to clear the houses for you?” the officer asked.

  Clear the house was cop speak for entering a home, gun at the ready, to search to make sure no one was hiding. If Katy and Bee were inside . . .

  But Katy and Bee had left, that was what they had seen. I worked through each scenario before finally giving my permission.

  “Sure, go ahead. I have security surveillance on each home. If anyone had breached our property, I should have been alerted. By the way, my brother is Kayson—”

  “I know your brother very well.” The roar of engines approached. “In fact, I think that’s him pulling up.”

  It was indeed him and Carter.

  “What are you two doing here?” I said, shaking both their hands as they unfastened their helmets.

  “Really? A call goes out about suspicious activity on one of the Christakos Construction sites, and it doesn’t matter that I’m Orange County or that this is incorporated Orlando. I’ll still hear about it.” Kayson looked over at the officer I had been talking to. “Did you do a sweep inside?”

  “Just getting ready to—” The officer stopped talking as a voice came over his radio.

  “I think I found your problem. I’m in back of the last house.”

  We all took off to the back of the home. And indeed he had found something, the door to the house that Katy used.

  “It’s not locked and something is jammed inside to keep it from catching. If I were to guess, you have squatters,” the officer stated.

  “Why don’t you two take this house, and Carter and I will take the next. We will get these cleared quicker.” Kayson pointed to the house next door where I knew that Katy hadn’t ever been.

  “I’ll fix this door while you all do that.” I pulled out my pocketknife and flipped it open so I could scrape out the paper that my fingers were too large to reach. That only took a few seconds, and when I was done, I waited by my truck while Kayson, Carter, and the other two officers finished.

  “We didn’t find anything else, so we’ll get out of here. I've started a report. Here’s the case number.” The officer handed me a card with a number written on the back of it. “If you find anything missing, give me a call and I will add it to the report. Your Insurance may need a copy for any claim you make. I can send Kayson a copy when I'm finished if you’d like.”

  I nodded, giving my permission.

  A few chin jerks to each other, and the OPD were back in their cars and off.

  “I’m heading back home, I need to finish getting ready.” I turned toward my truck.

  “Wait.” Carter put one hand on my shoulder. “Do you think this has something to do with the sock?”

  Kayson, who was watching me far too closely, raised one eyebrow. God, this was the part I hated about having a close family. There were no secrets.

  Kayson gave him a quizzical look. “Sophie told me that Damon found a sock.”

  “We just found a sock in one of the houses, no big deal. I called to see if it belonged to one of the girls before I tossed it. As I said, it’s no big fucking deal.”

  “Why didn’t Pops tell me? We could have added some officers to do routine drive-bys.”

  “Pops didn’t get you involved because he handles the business side, I handle all of the model homes. I’m not sure he even knows about this. It all just happened, and I’ve been busy. I finally just got a secretary and am hoping to have a life again. Now, if you two will mind your own fucking business, I’m going home to get ready for work and”—I looked down at my watch—“aren’t you two just starting your shifts?” I walked off, not letting them get another word in. Instead of heading home, I headed into the office. Kayson had probably called my other brothers, and I didn’t feel like dealing with them.

  But I should’ve known better, because just after eleven I heard the sound of shoes in the hallway, followed by a familiar voice. “Hey, Pops, I need to talk with Damon for a few minutes.”

  Shit. I had a feeling that the shit pot was just getting ready to be stirred. I stood to close the door that connected my office and Katy’s just as Tristan walked in.

  “Gee, what a surprise.” Even I could hear the sarcasm laced in my voice.

  “Isn’t it, though?”

  I had always been closest to Tristan, maybe since he was the second oldest, but right then I didn’t feel a ton of brotherly love toward him. “Don’t tell me—Kayson called you?”

  “Yep. But that isn’t the main reason I’m here.”

  “It isn’t?” That shocked the hell out of me.

  “No. Don’t you remember that I’m leaving this afternoon for Ireland? I’ll be gone for ten days. You were going to take care of my lawn, pick up my mail, and watch my house?”

  “Yeah, sorry. I’ll do that. Have a safe trip. We’ll see you when you get home.” I gave some extra force to my hand to help push him back out of my office, but he wasn’t budging.

  Tristan gave me his evil genius smile, the one that always pissed me off because it was a su
re sign that he was busy concocting something inside that oversized brain of his. “Now, care to tell me what is going on?”

  “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  Tristan shook his head, trying to hold back a laugh. “You always were a shitty liar. If you’re going to try to lie, you should at least stand still and not fidget. Now, seriously, what’s going on? There’s something different about you, you’re on edge.” He took a seat across from my desk and made himself comfortable. He obviously had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

  I shoved my hands through my hair before reaching for my laptop and turning it around so he could see the screen. I took the chair next to him, logged into the SpyGuys website, and then scrolled through previous footage before hitting play. Without turning on the volume, I explained to him what was going on.

  “You understand this puts the entire company at risk, right?” Tristan clasped his hands together and rested them at the back of his neck. “If either of them is injured, we’re responsible. Plus, I didn’t think that model homes had a CO. Isn’t it illegal? I’m talking safety code, not criminal.” Tristan looked at me, a mix of disappointment and confusion in his eyes.

  “They have nowhere and no one.” My words were more of a plea. “I can’t explain it, everything in me tells me that I’m all they have. She needs me.”

  “Yeah? So does your family. Remember that this is more than just you. You may be willing to risk your career, but each of us owns five percent. I know that you own twenty-five, but Pops still has fifty percent. You’re jeopardizing everything that he’s worked for. This is for his and Mana’s retirement, their livelihoods, not just your own or this woman and her daughter’s. Do you even really know her?”

  “I do. She’s my new secretary.”

  Tristan let out a low whistle. “And I repeat, do you really know her?”

  “Yes.”

  “One thing I’ve never done and will never do is doubt your judgment. I won’t start now.” Tristan waited for a moment, and very slowly his look of concern turned into a smirk. “Then, what if . . .”

  “Will you fucking wipe that smirk off you face?” I was at the point I was willing to wipe it off for him.

  “Just hear me out,” he said. “What if she stays at my house and house-sits for me? Tell her that I’m out of town for the next ten days and that my house-sitter canceled last minute. Sophie can go buy some stupid plants and put them inside so there’s a reason why someone would need to check the house regularly anyway. This way, she has ten days to figure out a living arrangement.”

  I stared at my brother, dumbfounded, who the hell was he? “You just thought of this, on the fly?” I asked, wondering how the hell my brother’s mind worked.

  “Freaky, I know. Just remember that Stella transferred to my ward several weeks back. You had to know she was bound to rub off. That woman can concoct anything. I never want to be on her bad side.”

  He was right. That girl was loud and cunning and didn’t take crap from anyone, but she was more of a family member than a family friend, so we all loved her regardless.

  “Are you sure you don’t mind?” I needed to be sure.

  “I’m fine with it. She can’t go back to the model house, you know that Kayson will have patrols in the area.”

  “I know. Thank you.” I took the key that Tristan slid across the table to me. I shook my head. I wasn’t sure if I’d missed him taking it off his ring or if he came with it already detached, like he was this all-knowing, scary motherfucker. “What happens if she finds out this was all a set-up?” I hoped that somewhere in Tristan’s mind of tricks he had thought out a solution for me because I was going to fucking need it.

  “She won’t. Plus, it isn’t really. I’m really out of town, and I really do need someone to watch my place.”

  “Got it. Now I need to figure out how to persuade Katy to house-sit.” I stood and opened my door so he could leave.

  “I’ll call Sophie.” Tristan gave me another fucking smirk.

  “Don’t say anything about Katy.”

  But Tristan didn’t leave; instead, he opened the door between my and Katy’s offices. “Hi, Katy, we didn’t get a chance to meet, I’m Tristan. I’m Damon’s younger, sexier, and smarter brother.” He walked over to Katy’s desk and shook her hand.

  “Shut up,” I half-groaned, half-mumbled. “Don’t you have a flight to catch? Ten days without you will be nice.” Tristan turned and headed back to me, and we exchanged our typical brother hug that was really more of a pat on the back. “Be safe.”

  “Always.” Tristan strode out, and I turned to Katy.

  “It’s lunchtime, are you hungry?”

  Chapter 10

  Katy

  The one thing about having a guilty conscience was that it made you paranoid, you tended to think everything was about you. When Damon’s brother had come in and closed the door, I freaked.

  I tried to listen, but this was a construction company and the door was made of nice solid wood. The voices sounded like the teacher on Charlie Brown, all blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, so I finally gave up and tried to get work done. I hadn’t filed anything by the time he left and was still holding the same folder when he opened the door.

  “Okay. Do you need me to go get you something?”

  “Nah, we’ll go grab something together.”

  I grabbed my purse from under my desk, then followed Damon out to his truck. I had assumed he was going to take me to a restaurant with tables and chairs, so when he pulled into a K-Mart parking lot, which was full of food trucks and picnic tables, I was a bit shocked.

  “I hope you don’t mind.” He looked over to me as he asked.

  “Mind? Are you kidding? I love food trucks. This is my kind of food, cheap and fried.” Damon laughed at my comment.

  We scanned the trucks, looking at their posted menus until I stopped. “Here, a BLT sounds good.”

  “They have great Ruebens, I usually order from here as well.”

  As we waited, the lady at the window kept sneaking glances at Damon.

  “You come here a lot?”

  “They’re here every Thursday.” His sheepish grin told me he was there every Thursday, too.

  “And to this truck?”

  “Usually.”

  “I think you have an admirer,” I whispered, angling my face away just in case the woman could read lips. When I looked back up, I couldn’t hold back the jealousy . . . wait, where was this coming from? She and Damon were clearly carrying on some type of conversation with their eyes, and I had to turn away. That slight pang of envy—yeah, envy, not jealousy—at wishing I had someone who looked at me the way they were looking at each other was almost too much to ignore. Yeah, someone someday when my life wasn’t a wreck.

  “I think that I’m going to go find something else.” I stepped out of line, but Damon’s strong arm wrapped around mine.

  “Why? We’re next.”

  Umm, let’s see, because you two are practically having public foreplay. But of course, before I could come up with a reasonable explanation, he tugged me forward.

  “May I help you?” The woman’s voice was sickly sweet as she looked me up and down like I was a fucking piñata she was examining just before she knocked the shit out of it with a bat.

  Damon looked at me, waiting for me to order.

  “I’ll have a BLT with cheese, please. And a Sprite or ginger ale, whichever you have.”

  “You want mayonnaise on it?” the overly helpful woman asked.

  “No, thank you.”

  “And you, Damon? You want the usual?”

  “Of course, and a tea. Thank you.”

  “Coming right up.” She winked at Damon as she totaled up our order.

  Winked, she fucking winked, and it was smooth. Not like when I try to do it and end up blinking both eyes because I had no control. No, she was smooth just like her voice. Her damn, fucking, I’ll-lure-you-into-my-tangled-web voice.

  I pull
ed out my wallet, but Damon refused to let me pay, which only had the woman raising one brow. Great, she was probably going to spit on my sandwich, lovely.

  We slid down to the next window and waited for our order. When it came out, I grabbed the bag while Damon carried our drinks, and then we found an open table.

  I settled onto a seat and pulled out the first sandwich, the Ruben, as Damon spread out napkins. When I pulled out the second sandwich, I froze. My temperature slowly rose as I fought back the urge to go tell that sleazy McSleazeball exactly what I thought of her. There was no way I was eating this fucking sandwich. She absolutely did something to it, that fucking bitch. Well, that was what she had scrawled across the sandwich wrapper. Bitch.

  I wanted to give her a piece of my mind, but I wouldn’t. She was obviously a friend of his, and I wanted to keep my job. I wasn’t coming between my boss and his girlfriend or booty call or whatever she was. So, just like normal, I took it. I sat there and let someone make a total ass out of me. Oh, but I thought of all the right things to say, and I thought of them at the right time, I just didn’t verbalize them.

  “What’s wrong?” Damon asked, a look of confusion on his face. “You’re not eating.

  “I’ve changed my mind. I’m not hungry.” I heard the catch in my voice as I fought back my anger.

  “Katy.” That one word, my name on his lips, and I broke.

  “You want to know what’s wrong? Your little food truck tête-à-tête resulted in my being called a bitch and probably having something done to my food.”

  “When? I didn’t hear her say anything.”

  “Oh, she didn’t say it, she wrote it on my sandwich wrapper.” I laid my sandwich in front of him.

  Damon let out a hearty laugh that caused several people to turn and stare.

  “I’m glad you find this so funny.” I threw my hands on my hips. If I had been standing, I’d be popping my hip as well.

  “Katy, the woman in the food truck is Sammy, and her husband is one of our foremen and has been for years. She was giving me a hard time because she has never seen me out with a woman and keeps threatening to play matchmaker. And if you look at your sandwich, it doesn’t say bitch. It says B-L-T-C-H. As in, B-L-T with a C-H for cheese. She just didn’t make the leg on the L very long.”