by Jayne Blue
“That’s none of your business.” Out of control. Reckless. I felt my skin flush and new sweat broke out on my forehead.
“You live boxed up just like most of your furniture. You’ve lived here over a year. When are you going to unpack? When are you going to let loose a little?”
I started to shake. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Huck moved toward me again. I took a step back. He reached out and put a hand on my shoulder.
“Jesus, Jillian, you’re shaking like a leaf. What is it?”
When I took another step back, he put his other hand on my other shoulder. “Just don’t. Don’t judge me. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Huck hooked a finger under my chin and slowly raised my head, forcing me to meet his gaze again. His eyes were deep and kind. I blinked back tears. He was too close. I’d let him too damn close. Now he wouldn’t pull away. They always pull away. Why wouldn’t he?
“Why? Jillian, what’s wrong? You can trust me.”
So I pulled away. I jerked out of his grasp and turned toward the living room. My damn cardboard boxes stared back at me all the way up to the ceiling. Huck asked too many questions. He’d seen too much. I tried to pretend it didn’t matter but it did.
“I can’t have … disorder. Do you understand that?”
“I’m starting to.”
I flapped my hands in the air then folded them in front of me. Dammit, I didn’t want him or anyone to see me like this. My heart thundered behind my ribcage. My hair hung around me in massive waves. Unkempt. Uncontrolled.
“Did someone hurt you?” Huck asked. “Jillian?”
“No!” I whirled on him. “No one!”
Huck reared back like I’d slapped him again. His eyes filled with concern that melted my heart at the same time I really did want to slap him. He was getting too close. My fault. I never should have let my guard down around him.
“Look, I’m on your side. I’d like to think I’m your friend. Yeah. You turn me on too. I’d be lying if I denied that. But I can control myself. Okay? You don’t have to worry about me making any more advances. If you haven’t noticed, I’m as good at my job as you are at yours. Probably better. Getting involved with you is a bigger risk to mine than yours. So relax about that. We’re cool. But I am worried about you. You’re wound tighter than any woman I’ve ever seen. I want to help. I might even be able to if you let me in a little.”
I shook my head. “Can’t.”
“Why? Your father? Is that who did this number on you? Did he hurt you? Jillian? Did that man lay his hands on you?” Color drained from Huck’s face. A nerve twitched near his temple. He seemed coiled, ready to strike with barely contained rage. My protector. Except he knew he couldn’t protect me from the past.
I closed my eyes slowly and let out a breath. When I opened them, Huck stood before me with his fists at his sides, ready to slay some demon neither he nor I could see.
“He hurt my mother first,” I said, though it sounded like a stranger’s voice speaking. Five words I’d never spoken aloud before to anyone, not even to the grief counselor the social worker made my father take me to after my mother’s car accident.
“Frank Key,” Huck said. “You’re telling me he beat your mom?”
I backed up. The couch was behind me. I sank slowly until I sat perched on the arm of it.
“Only once that I saw,” I said. “But … she had bruises and … broken things.”
“Jillian, did he put his hands on you?”
I shook my head. “He was … chaos. My mother kept the business running. When she died, we almost lost everything. He did the construction work, but I kept the books and the bills paid.”
“You were thirteen when your mom died. You mean to tell me you were working as the company bookkeeper when you were thirteen?”
I picked at a cuticle and nodded.
“Tell me the truth, Jillian. Did he hurt you too?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. I’d tried to block it all out and most days I succeeded. The bruises had long since faded. Daddy was gone. He could never come near me again. When I opened my eyes, Huck’s searched my face and a little of the wildness I’d seen in the woods came back. He knew. He understood. I blinked hard and gave him a quick nod, hoping he wouldn’t ask me to put it into words any more than that.
To his credit, Huck never asked me again. He just listened. “What was his poison. Was he a drinker?”
I nodded again and looked up at him. In the span of two minutes, Huck knew more of my secrets than anyone. Huck’s face melted into a bitter half-smile. “I have some experience with that. Ray Sr.”
“You said that. You told me he was a son of a bitch.”
Huck took a step forward. This time, when he put a hand on my upper arm, I didn’t try to pull away. “That he was.”
“Did he hurt you? Did he put his hands on you?” I asked, slowly lifting my gaze toward his.
Huck’s slow nod tore at me. He rolled back his sleeve to show me three puckered, circular scars on his left forearm. They were faint, but I sucked in a breath as I realized what likely caused them. I’d seen marks like those before. I’d clerked for the prosecutor’s office just out of law school on child abuse and neglect cases. I transferred out after a few months when it just hit too close to home. I reached out and ran my fingers over Huck’s long-since-healed flesh.
“Cigarette?” I asked, giving Huck a light smile. The hardness left his eyes and he smiled back at me.
“Cigar. Cubans. I said he was a son of a bitch, not that he lacked taste.”
I couldn’t help it. I barked out a laugh and nearly doubled over from it. I found myself resting my forehead against Huck’s chest. He cupped the back of my head with his hand, warming me straight to my toes. It would have been so easy to just give into that feeling again. He felt so good and I felt so empty. But I came back into myself, straightened my back, and looked at him. He’d made me a promise. A part of me expected him to betray it just like every other man in my life had.
“I can’t have any more chaos in my life, Huck. Not ever.”
Huck’s eyes shone with understanding. He pursed his lips and gave me a slow nod. “I know. Although you know that’s impossible. Life is chaos sometimes, no matter how hard we want to control it. And I meant what I said. You need a friend. And I need to do my job.”
He took a step away from me. Deputy US Marshal Ray Huckman was tall, strong, and imposing. He slowly raised his hand and extended it to mine. Smiling, I sighed and shook it.
“Deal,” I said. “Now let’s go get ready for work.”
Chapter Eleven
Huck
Every cell in my body wanted to make a damn liar out of me. I didn’t want to be Jillian’s friend. I wanted her. Every part of her. I wanted to be the one she called out to in her dreams. I wanted to taste her sweat and desire on the tip of my tongue again. I wanted to chase away the demons from her past and reach back and rip her father’s throat out for hurting her. For that alone, I could have killed him if he weren’t already in the ground.
Jillian came downstairs a half an hour later with her armor back in place. She wore a jet-black power suit with sky-high heels. She gave me a cold smile as she walked past me, her shimmering blonde hair piled into that tight bun I just wanted to muss. She wore no makeup save for her bold, red-painted lips. The Dragon Lady. The Ice Queen. She was ready to battle whatever gladiators crossed her threshold today. I could almost feel sorry for them.
I knew what I promised her. I would be her protector and her friend. Nothing more. But as I held my car door open for her, she shot the hint of a secret smile, and I knew she was a little bit mine. Dammit if my balls didn’t tighten again at the thought of what she felt like, panting beneath me.
Jillian was quiet as we drove into downtown Ann Arbor. Traffic along Washtenaw Avenue backed up as usual. I took her to her favorite drive-through coffee place and she ordered a vanilla latte with extra cream. I smiled when
she ordered mine black and handed it to me. Whether she realized it or not, I was part of her ritual now.
When we headed into her chambers, Rhonda was waiting. Jillian went over her docket with Gemma while I took a seat in the chair opposite her desk. I leaned forward and handed Jillian her black, horn-rimmed reading glasses as she flipped open a file. Rhonda’s eyes flicked to mine then narrowed. I sat back in my chair and looked out the window. Did she suspect something?
“Okay,” Jillian sighed. “I’m going to take a second to brush my teeth again to get rid of this coffee breath. Are the litigants here for my eight thirty docket?”
Rhonda nodded. “They are indeed.”
“Any chance they’ve agreed to a consent order?”
Rhonda shook her head. “None whatsoever. But I think one or two icy stares and you’ll be able to move them along. Opening statements in your trial will start at ten if I have to bash someone’s face in to make it happen. We are gonna keep you on schedule today.”
Jillian sighed and pushed herself to her feet. “Fine. Give me five and we’ll face them all together.”
She went through the interior door to her bathroom. Gemma gathered Jillian’s files. Her hand brushed mine and she cracked a smile before she straightened. My eyes went straight to Rhonda’s. As soon as Gemma left, Rhonda folded her arms in front of her and leaned down toward me.
“What’s going on?” she asked, in an acid tone.
I leaned forward and met her gaze almost nose to nose. “Not a damn thing. What’s going on with you?”
Rhonda straightened. Her eyes flicked toward the closed door to Jillian’s bathroom. “I don’t know but you’re both acting weird. Stiffer.”
I shook my head. “You’re imagining things. Did you sift through her mail yet today?”
“It hasn’t come in yet. Another hour probably.”
“Good. Let me know when you do. In the meantime, I’m going to take a seat out in the courtroom. You want to make sure she doesn’t need anything if she’s not out of there in another minute?”
“I see the way you look at her,” Rhonda whispered.
I put up a hand. “Save it. I’m doing my job. You’re doing yours. Jillian is doing hers.” It was a slip to refer to her by her first name in front of Rhonda. One that would have earned me one of those icy stares from the judge herself if she were in the room. But Rhonda could speculate all she wanted.
“Are you?” Rhonda’s eyes shone dark. For as small as she was, the woman had a way of making it irrelevant with her squared shoulders and cold glare.
“Yes.” My answer came out as a hiss. Maybe if I’d taken a more casual tone, that would have been the end of it. Rhonda saw right through me.
“I told you when you first came out here, that woman in there is the real deal. But more than that, she matters to me personally.”
“She matters to me personally too.” I rose to my full height, letting Rhonda’s eyes follow me up. “Every case I work on does.”
Rhonda crossed her arms and took a step back. “I took a chance recommending you for this job, Huck.”
“And Terry Loomis wouldn’t have put me here if he hadn’t wanted to.” Some of that old rivalry between departments started to flare inside me. I had to bite my tongue to keep from giving into it. If I had, Rhonda would have known in a second I had a halfway guilty conscience. But dammit if I was going to stand there and let anyone tell me I’d do anything to compromise Jillian’s safety. It was all bluster where Rhonda was concerned and she knew I knew it. She was letting her own personal feelings about her friendship with Jillian drive her temper. It was the same thing she was about to accuse me of.
Mercifully, Rhonda blinked first. She gave me a terse nod as the door to Jillian’s bathroom opened and she stepped out. Her black robe flowed behind her as she walked toward us. Only the slight raise of her brow gave any indication that she suspected what we’d been arguing about.
“I’m ready when you are, Rhonda,” she said.
Rhonda put a hand on the butt of her weapon and nodded toward Jillian. I didn’t wait for orders from either of them but stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind me.
My temper flared hotter than I wanted so I needed some air. I got halfway down the hallway when a familiar voice caught my attention.
“Hey, Huck!” I turned around. Ben Killian stood there wearing his uniform blues. I wasn’t used to seeing him like that anymore. If he wasn’t off duty, I’d catch him in full Kevlar on his way to a raid. A part of me envied him. SWAT team was pure adrenaline. I missed that. With the exception of the excitement I felt around Jillian herself, I knew judicial security wasn’t for me long term.
“You lost?” I said, grateful for the distraction of a friendly face.
Ben smiled and slapped his hand into mine. “Nah. Just testified down the hall. One of the task forces I’m on carried out a raid on this scumbag’s house last year. Sick shit. Child predator stuff. He crossed state lines with some of the stuff he pedaled so they came after him on federal charges. You feel like catching lunch or something later?”
I barked out a laugh. Only Ben could switch topics from child predators to lunch without even taking a breath. Such was the nature of our jobs. “I wish I could. I’m working today.”
Ben nodded. “Yeah. That’s right. Judge Key. How’s that going?”
I shrugged. “Well, I’m still here. She’s in trial today so I’m going to be cooling my heels for a while.”
“Well, I’m heading over to the county trial court after this. There’s a court reporter I want to look up.”
I elbowed Ben in the arm. “So that lunch invitation was just polite bullshit? What were you going to do if I said yes?”
Ben’s shit-eating grin was all the answer I needed. Well, good for him. At least one of us had a chance of letting off steam later today. For the first time since I’d taken this job, I wasn’t looking forward to the car ride home with Jillian. I was keyed up from our conversation this morning and Rhonda’s interrogation. I wasn’t looking forward to hiding my agitation and could have used a beer, a shot, and a fuck before too long. I’d be batting zero for all three for a good long while, it seemed.
“Hey, it was good to see you. Cards are at your place next month, remember? We still on?”
“I fucking hope so,” I said. Shit. I hadn’t been to my place in almost a month. Thank God I didn’t have any pets or plants. Hell, what I did have was a damn mess. Jillian lived in tightly packed boxes. I lived in a bachelor pad with laundry strewn all over the floor half the time. As soon as I thought it, I felt like shit. Who was I to question how Jillian lived her life? If she spent five minutes at my apartment, she’d have lit into me about what a pigsty it was. Me giving her grief about her boxes was no different. I realized I probably would have reacted exactly the same way if she or anyone else gave me crap about it.
Ben cocked his head to the side and gave me a questioning look. I was apparently doing just as shitty a job hiding my thoughts and agitation from him as I had Rhonda. I slapped him on the back.
“Go on, get out of here. Good luck with your court reporter.”
Smiling, Ben gave me a two-fingered salute and headed toward the elevators. God, I really wished I could go with him. About two minutes later, I really wished I had. I took a seat on the wooden benches outside Jillian’s courtroom. One by one, the prosecution’s witnesses were called in. She was trying a patent infringement case so she’d get treated to a parade of engineers today. It would be boring, it should have been boring, but another familiar voice further down the hallway shattered that.
I poked my head into Jillian’s courtroom. She was in the middle of chewing out one of the attorneys for trying to call a witness without giving the other side advance warning. It looked like it was going to take a while. Rhonda made eye contact with me and gave me an exasperated expression. I shook my head and smiled at her before ducking back out into the hallway. I headed toward the voices down the hall and m
y spine stiffened.
Jerry Jordan sat on another bench further down the hallway talking nearly nose to nose with a scumbag I recognized as a made man in the Moldonado crime family.
“I drew that bitch Key, Jerry. You swore you’d get me a different judge.”
“Keep your voice down,” Jordan said. “What do you think I am?”
“I think you’re fucking scared of her, that’s what.”
I pressed my back against the wall. Of course they were talking about Jillian. I was going to have to have another serious talk with Rhonda if Jillian had drawn another Moldonodo case and I didn’t know about it. We hadn’t completely ruled them out as the threat against her. The last thing I wanted was for them to have more ammunition.
Jerry’s thick laughter sent a chill down my spine. “You think I’m scared of that cunt? Don’t be a bigger shitheel than you already are, Bart. I’m helping out on your case as a favor. Pro bono. You don’t watch your mouth and I’ll change my mind.”
White rage clouded my vision. Something snapped inside of me and before I knew it, I was on Jerry Jordan, pulling him up by his lapels. Shitheel Bart just sat back on the bench with his mouth open. I shot him a sinister look letting him know he better fucking stay there.
“How you doing, Jerry?” I said, pulling Jordan into the adjacent hallway. I let go of him and smashed his suit jacket down, straightening his lapels.
“Who the fuck are you?” Jordan said. His tone was deep and sharp, but the fear in his eyes couldn’t be missed.
“Who the fuck am I? Well, see, I’m Huckman.” I flashed my badge and pressed it against Jerry’s forehead. “See, you’re in a federal courthouse right now. Since I’m a US Marshal, that kind of makes it like my house. You know? Now, when you have people over at your house, you expect them to be polite, right? I mean, it’s only proper.”
My badge sunk into Jordan’s fleshy forehead. He opened and closed his mouth. “Look. I’m not looking for any trouble.”