Once he signs for the bill we stand up to leave and Josh takes me by the hand and slowly leads me through the restaurant. And the instant we step outside, we are blinded by a bright flash of light.
Paparazzi!
“What the fuck?” Josh mumbles angrily, shielding his eyes from the sudden and unexpected visual attack. The flashes come in rapid-fire succession and I can hear the tell-tale shutter of the cameras, even if I can’t immediately see them. And I can feel my hand grip Joshua’s tightly. I have always hated being chased down by paparazzi. To me, it feels very similar to a physical assault. And having now been the victim of such an assault, I can say with authority that it’s pretty darn close.
“Miss Colby, how do you feel now that Timothy Echols is behind bars?”
“Miss Colby, are you and the detective dating?”
“Detective Pierce, do your superiors know about your relationship with Miss Colby? Will that compromise the Echols case at all?”
I squeeze Josh’s hand even tighter, but he lets go, wrapping his arm around me protectively as we ignore the photographer’s questions and hurry toward Josh’s car. He opens the door for me and then rushes to the driver’s side as the cameraman and the photographer from the Seattle Social close in. Without a word, he starts up the Charger and floors it, screeching out of the restaurant’s parking lot, onto the street, and into the night.
Pierced Ever After
Chapter One
Joshua
“What the fuck?” The flash comes out of nowhere and it takes me a second to realize what’s going on. Are you fucking kidding me? I scowl at the small contingent of media with cameras trained on our faces, crowding around us as soon as we exit the restaurant. There’s a photographer, flashing away, blinding us with each shot, and a guy with a huge monster of a video camera zooming towards us as a reporter for Seattle Social fires inane questions our way.
“Miss Colby, how do you feel now that Timothy Echols is behind bars?”
“Miss Colby, are you and the detective dating?”
“Detective Pierce, do your superiors know about your relationship with Miss Colby? Will that compromise the Echols case at all?”
We ignore all of the questions and I feel Samantha grip my hand as if she’s holding on for dear life. I let go of her hand and wrap my arm protectively around her waist and hurry her over to the Charger. Once we get into the car I start her up and pull away from the small throng as quickly as I can, tires squealing. And I can feel my anger boiling over, the fury coursing throughout my veins. First the whole check thing back at the restaurant and now this.
“Fucking leeches,” I mumble under my breath. “Where the hell do they come from?”
“They must have been tipped off by someone inside the restaurant that we were there together. This is all my fault,” Samantha says sadly. “I’m sorry, Josh.”
I say nothing and run my left hand through my hair a couple of times as I drive. And I snort softly and shake my head because I know that Samantha just doesn’t get it. This little incident was more than just annoying. It could fuck up everything.
“If news of our relationship gets out, any public defender worth his salt can use it to get Echols off on a technicality,” I tell her through clenched teeth, and even I can hear the quiet anger in my voice. “What the fuck was I thinking? We should never have been out in public!”
My voice sounds bitter and slightly accusatory, and I guess I mean for it to. She is the one who wanted to eat in that expensive place, after all. If she hadn’t wanted to go there, this never would have happened!
“You have a tendency to allow your anger to lead you sometimes. Don’t do that with her. Don’t automatically get angry at the situation … try to see things from her point of view.”
And why can’t I get my mother’s damned voice out of my head right now? I don’t want to be reasonable. I want to stay angry. This is Sam’s fault, not mine! Sure about that, Pierce?
“No! No, no, he can’t get out,” Sam sounds frightened and on the verge of tears. “I’m sorry, Josh; this is all my fault. We never should have gone there!”
Well, at least we’re in agreement on that. My hands grip the steering wheel tightly and I really want to punch the shit out of something right about now. Unable to fight the feeling, I haul off and pound my right fist up into the headliner of the roof of the Charger, as an angry growl escapes my throat.
“We can’t let this happen; there has to be something we can do, isn’t there?” Her voice is choked by panicked sobs and I instantly feel the crack in my armor of rage at the sound. Why do her tears disarm me? Stop being a dick, Pierce; you care about this girl. You’re not angry at her, you’re angry at yourself. I take a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“I don’t know what that would be,” I tell her honestly, trying unsuccessfully to keep the ire out of my voice. But I think hard about her question. How do you stop the media from broadcasting your private business, spinning their yarns and interfering with criminal cases? If that’s even possible, it would take a hell of a lot more money and influence than I’ve got. And I know that I can kiss all that praise I got at the station yesterday goodbye because if this case gets fucked up, Marcos and Skinner will have my ass for breakfast. Fuck!
Samantha’s phone starts to ring and she looks at the caller ID, wiping a stray tear. “It’s Lucas. I can’t deal with him right now,” she says softly, silencing her phone.
Lucas. I frown as a thought hits me, and I swallow nervously. Should I do this? You want to keep Samantha safe? “Give me the phone.” It’s a quiet command and Samantha gives me a confused look, but she does as she’s told, handing her cellphone over to me. I hold her phone in my hand and take another deep breath before I answer it. “Lucas? It’s Josh.”
“Hey, Josh.” He sounds slightly puzzled that I’m answering the phone and not his sister. “Is Sam around?”
“Yeah, she’s right here. But I need to ask you something.”
“Okay.”
I can hear the curiosity in his voice and I hesitate for a beat and swallow anxiously again. “This morning, you said that if I ever needed a favor I could come to you. Did you mean that?”
There’s a slight pause, and then, “I don’t say things I don’t mean. What’s going on?”
“I need your help,” I tell him honestly. “But it’s not for me, it’s for Sam.”
“I’m at the apartment,” he says without hesitation.
“We’ll be right there.” I hang up and hand Sam back her phone, and we speed off toward her brother’s place.
*****
Twenty minutes later we are seated on one of the black leather couches in Lucas Colby’s opulent living room, and Samantha and I are each nursing a glass of brandy as Lucas speaks on the phone with his lawyer. When we arrived and I explained what happened as we left the restaurant, he understood the implications right away. He pulled out his phone and dialed his attorney on the spot, and for the last ten minutes I’ve listened intently as he’s instructed his attorney to inform Seattle Social and her parent company that if they run any of the photos or film footage taken tonight at the restaurant, or imply in any way that Samantha and I are seeing each other romantically – or do anything else to negatively impact the outcome of the Echols case – they’ll be sued for damages.
“I don’t give a shit if we have a legal ground to stand on or not,” he says irritably. “At least we could tie them up in litigation for a good long while, and I’m betting they don’t have the resources for that. I will own the Seattle Social before this is done!”
There is a pause as he listens to whomever is on the other line, and I can tell that Lucas Colby is not only a fierce businessman, but also very used to getting what he wants. I don’t think I’d want to piss him off. I may be physically imposing and have the power that comes with a badge, but Lucas has a type of power I will probably never know. The thought is humbling.
“Well, get on it now. I want this taken care of
yesterday. If any of that footage gets online or hits the airwaves, there will be hell to pay!”
He hangs up and turns back to us and I can’t help but feel guilty. I can’t believe I’ve let this happen. And I think about Lee saying that I was acting love-struck and reckless at The Slammer. Damned if he didn’t call that right, ’cause I sure as hell acted like a reckless fucking idiot tonight.
“I’m sorry, Lucas,” Sam says sadly as he sits down in a chair across from us. “It was all my fault that we ended up at the restaurant in the first place. I’m so stupid!”
Feeling the frown cross my face, I look over at her. “It’s not your fault, Sam,” I say quietly, taking her hand. All my earlier misplaced anger forgotten. “It’s mine.”
“But how can you say that? I’m the one who wanted to go to there,” she wails. “I could tell you didn’t want to.”
“And I’m the one who should have known better,” I say definitively. “But I just … wanted to make you happy. I wasn’t thinking about the media, or this case … or my job for that matter. And I should have been. I fucked up tonight, not you. If Echols walks, it’s all on me, baby. It’s not your fault.”
“Stop beating yourself up, Josh,” Lucas says evenly, and I wonder how is it that he’s not pissed at me right now. “Echols is not going to walk. This will work.” He seems confident but, I’m not so certain. What if his lawyers don’t get to the Seattle Social people in time and they post those pictures on their website?
We sit and talk and wring our hands for a while longer and wait for some kind of word from Lucas’ attorneys, and finally, Sam begins to yawn. She’s sitting curled up next to me, her shoes discarded on the floor and her legs are tucked beneath her. She lays her head on my shoulder and I reach across her, placing my hand on her outer thigh, and lightly rub my thumb back and forth, caressing her leg. Softly, I kiss the top of her head.
“You starting to fade on me?” I ask her quietly, and she smiles and looks up at me. “We should go, get you to bed. Get your shoes on,” I say patting her thigh, and I kiss her head once more. She nods and sits up, and begins to put on her shoes just as Lucas’ phone rings.
“Yes.” His tone is clipped and his expression is all business as he listens intently and I can see his mind working. And suddenly he cracks an unexpected smile. “You’re kidding … All right. Good work.” He hangs up and looks at us with a grin. “Crisis averted.”
“What’s so funny?” Sam asks, as she ties her shoe.
“Well, it seems Seattle Social’s parent company is Dublin Media Corporation. As in Jasper Dublin.” I look at Sam with a frown, wondering if that name means anything to her, but she looks just as puzzled as I do and she shrugs at Lucas.
“Scott Dublin’s father. Megan’s soon-to-be father-in-law,” he explains, and Sam and I both register surprise at this knowledge. “As soon as he heard we were pissed he got right on the phone to the Social’s producer. Told him to cease and desist or he’d be out of a job by morning. He told our attorney to assure me that the Social will not publish a single story on the two of you dating until the dust settles on this case.”
His phone rings again and he smiles as he looks at the caller ID. “Hey, Scott,” he says answering the phone and putting it on speaker.
“Lucas, hey! I just got off the phone with my dad. I’m really sorry, man. Please, tell Samantha not to worry; that story has been completely squashed!” His words come out in a rush, and I’m sure he’s more than a little worried about upsetting his future, very powerful, in-laws. And suddenly I can’t help but wonder if I’m up for this. Always worrying about not upsetting the Colby family. Do I want that for my future? Planning on marrying her, Pierce? I swallow nervously as that thought enters my head. Who the fuck said anything about marriage? And an image of my grandma Mona’s ring flashes in my mind, taking me by surprise. Shit.
“Tell your dad thanks for me, Scott,” Samantha speaks up beside me.
“Sam! Oh my gosh, I am so sorry if you were scared or upset by the photographers,” he says to her. “Please accept my apologies. And please apologize to the Detective for me as well.”
I’m still distracted by my wayward thoughts when Sam and Lucas both look over at me, obviously waiting for me to reply to Scott personally. “Uh, it … it’s okay,” I say haltingly. “I’m just glad the Social won’t be running that story.”
“Hey, Josh! Good to speak to you again,” Scott responds. “I’m real sorry for the circumstances though. And for your trouble.”
“Thanks for taking care of it,” I mutter.
“It’s no problem, buddy.”
Buddy?
“Listen, you all have a good night, okay. I’ll see you all on Friday,” Scott says, referring, I think, to the rehearsal dinner the night before the wedding.
He hangs up then, and as we stand to leave, Sam gives her brother a big bear hug. “Thank you for cleaning up my mess, Lucas.”
He looks down at her with a serious expression, narrowing his eyes. “You need to thank Josh, Sam. He did the right thing by coming here. If he hadn’t … it never would have occurred to you to come to me, would it?” He stares at her and she looks away sheepishly as a slight blush steals over lovely face. He shakes his head slightly and sighs in exasperation. “You don’t make it easy for people to help you sometimes, Pita. I get that you’re uncomfortable with our family’s influence sometimes, but you need to get over it!”
Sam gives him a look that says she’s gearing up for a fight, but he raises both hands in surrender. “I don’t want to argue,” he says. “I’m just saying. I am always here for you, Sam.”
“I know that,” she says quietly, and they stare at each other for a few seconds. And I feel like I’m somehow intruding on an old family argument.
“Okay,” he says quietly and turns to me, extending his hand. “Josh.”
I shake his hand firmly. “Thank you for your help tonight.”
“Thank you for asking for my help,” he says sincerely. “And that marker was for you, Josh, not Sam. I still owe you. You need something, you call me.”
Once again, his words take me by surprise. Why the hell is he not trying to get his sister as far away from me as he can? I still don’t understand his turnaround where I’m concerned. Even though he told me this morning that he had me investigated and that he’s impressed with my service record at the police department. His genial attitude with me has still got me more than a little nervous.
We say our goodbyes then and Sam and I head out. We’re quiet on the ride home and I wonder if she’s still upset. It’s been another long, weird day with lots of emotions running on high alert. And oddly enough, for me, what stands out most about it is the fact that Samantha told me she loves me. Maybe that’s not so odd, Pierce. When I glance over at her, she’s staring silently out the passenger window, and I sigh. Reaching over, I take her hand and pull gently, and she takes the hint, sliding closer to me. I wrap my arm around her and hold her close the rest of the way home.
“Josh,” she whispers as I pull into the garage and let the automatic door close behind us as I turn off the engine.
“Yeah?”
She hesitates and then says, “I’m sorry about the restaurant. About the money, I mean. I didn’t…”
“Sam, that’s not in issue,” I tell her quietly, looking her in the eye. And I roll my eyes slightly when she gives me a look that says she knows better. “I mean … let’s not make it an issue.” I turn toward her in the seat of the Charger and reach out, caressing her face. “Baby, I can afford to pay an eighty dollar restaurant bill, okay? I just can’t do that every night,” I tell her honestly. “If that’s what you want … you are dating the wrong man.”
She nods at me. “I know that, and that’s not what I want,” she says, holding my steady gaze. “I don’t expect you to wine and dine me all the time.”
“Okay,” I say softly, still gently touching her cheek and looking into her eyes. “But when we do go out like that, Sam �
�� I can’t have you trying to pay the bill for me. Do you understand?”
“I was only trying…”
“I don’t care.” My words are soft, but firm and I can tell by the expression on Samantha’s face that the look in my eyes must be pretty fierce. She nods her head silently, her eyes never wavering from mine.
“Okay,” she whispers meekly, and I think she’s slightly nervous. I lean in and kiss her lips softly and chastely, and look into her eyes again.
“Come. Let’s go to bed.” We climb out of the Charger and I open up the trunk to get Sam’s bags. Once we’ve gathered her things, I lock up the garage and we head inside the house.
Going straight to the bedroom, we set her things down on the floor in front of the closet and her four pieces of luggage dominate the available open floorspace in my bedroom. Hoping to fix the situation, I unhook the garment bag and open the closet door and hang it inside with my clothes. Then I take the tote bag with Sam’s computer and iPad and sketchbook in it and place it on her side of the bed by the table where she can get to it easily. The other two bags then sit neatly in front of the closet and mostly out of the way.
It’s as good as it’s going to get for now because I’m tired and ready for bed. Samantha heads for the bathroom and I start to get undressed, taking my gun out of the belt holster at my back and placing it on the table on my side of the bed. Then I make sure to set the alarm clock since I do have to go to work in the morning.
I’m sitting on the side of the bed pulling off my boots when I feel Sam climb onto the bed behind me. She scoots close and wraps her arms around my waist, resting her cheek against my back.
“Thank you, Josh,” she whispers.
“What for, baby?” I sigh.
“For letting me stay with you.”
I turn around, breaking free from her embrace, and looking into her eyes. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Sam. I’m happy you’re here, baby.”
Pierced: Pierced Trilogy Boxed Set Page 55