Players

by Rachel Cross

  The same regret forming a knot in his gut shimmered back at him from the depths of her eyes. “I need this to stay at one night.”

  He nodded. “It’s for the best, I think.”

  She lifted a hand and touched his cheek, tender, affectionate. “Take care of yourself, Michael.”

  He kissed her cheek, then waited until she was in her apartment before turning and walking away. As he mounted his bike, regret and need warred for supremacy in his gut. Ten years he’d spent building walls, but in one night, one tiny little slip of a woman had gotten under his skin. He may never see her again, but he was positive he’d never forget her.

  • • •

  “So? How bad is it?”

  Cat poured herself a cup of coffee, more out of a need to keep her hands busy than an actual need for caffeine, as she waited for Lisa’s reply. Seated at the dining room table, her roommate once again had the newspaper out in front of her, searching for pictures of her and Michael.

  “Well, not super bad, all things considered.” The slight hesitation in Lisa’s tone had a stone of dread dropping in Cat’s stomach. “You guys ended up in the Society section. There are two of them.”

  “Two?” She’d only seen the photographer take one last night. Cat moved to stand behind Lisa and peered over her shoulder. The pictures were side by side, splash style. The first was the one they’d taken of her and Michael in the gazebo downtown. She’d expected that one.

  Cat’s breath caught in her throat, nausea swirling in her stomach, as she caught sight of the second one. The two of them were seated atop his bike, out on the bluffs, watching the fireworks. Michael faced her, and her thighs lay overtop his. Once again, they had their arms wrapped tightly around each other, her head resting on his chest. Like the picture by the beach, someone had taken it from a distance, but you could clearly see their faces, despite the darkness.

  An eerie sense of invasion crept up her spine, and the creepy calls she continued to get came rushing back at her.

  Cat shook her head. “There was no one else up there with us, Lisa. No flash went off. The first picture that ended up in the Tribune, I just assumed had been a fluke. This one feels entirely too much like somebody’s spying on us.”

  Lisa twisted in her seat to look back at her. Her brow furrowed, the same sense of worry creeping into her eyes.

  Cat glanced at the blurb beneath the picture.

  “A certain pair were spotted watching the fireworks from the bluffs.” She groaned. “They had to mention the bluffs.”

  Anyone who was anyone knew the bluffs were notorious for romantic interludes. Make-out Point they called it.

  “Let it roll off. So you’re dating somebody. Big whoop.”

  Cat shook her head. “I wouldn’t exactly call the time Michael and I spent together dating. It was a one-night stand. Add this on top of all those phone calls.”

  She moved into the living room, sank onto the sofa, and turned to the window. Wispy white clouds meandered across the blue sky. Worry knotted her stomach as her conversation with Michael last night came back to her.

  She darted a glance at Lisa. “You don’t suppose this has anything to do with our families, do you? Technically, Chloe Edwards’ daughter is dating Senator Brant’s grandson.”

  Her gut knotted. She shouldn’t have gone with Michael last night, shouldn’t have allowed the closeness between them, but when he touched her, her body melted. Sitting with him up on those bluffs was the most relaxed she’d felt since she quit her job working for Nick. She would not allow whoever this was to ruin it.

  “I don’t see why. You’re dating Michael Brant. He’s news around here.” Lisa offered a reassuring smile and gave a nonchalant shrug. “Whoever it is, they’ll get bored. You’ll see.”

  Cat bit her lower lip. “I hope so.”

  When the phone shrilled on the coffee table in front of her, unease swirled in Cat’s stomach. Drawing a deep breath and praying it wasn’t another prank, she stretched to reach the cordless receiver. The caller ID displayed “number unavailable” as always.

  Anger rose like a tidal wave storming through her system. Cat punched the “talk” button, her voice less than friendly. She was tired of whatever game this was. “What do you want?”

  “Your life.” The voice was computerized. Someone had obviously gone to great lengths to disguise themselves, and the knowledge was a lead weight sinking in her stomach. The malice lacing the tone wrapped fear around her chest like a coiled snake.

  Her hands trembled. “Excuse me?”

  “You’ll pay for your indiscretions, bitch.”

  Drawing a deep breath in an effort to control the nausea swirling in her stomach, Cat sat forward. “Who is this?”

  “You’re a whore, just like your mother. You’ll pay for your indiscretions.”

  The line went dead. Her entire body began to shake. Cat tossed the phone to the other side of the couch like it was hot metal burning her hand.

  Lisa looked up from the paper. “What did they say?”

  Cat’s eyes widened. She clasped her hands together in a vain attempt to stop their trembling. “I was just threatened.”

  She could no longer put the phone calls off to pranks. Couldn’t ignore the seemingly coincidental timing, either. Michael’s appearance in her life. The constant photos in the newspaper, two of which occurred during times when she was sure they were alone. Someone followed them, but whoever it was obviously didn’t want him. Their target appeared to be her.

  The same fear currently knotting Cat’s stomach filled Lisa’s eyes. “You need to call the police, Cat.”

  • • •

  Standing beside his bike outside the bar, the loud music thumping behind him, Michael glanced down the street. The small bookshop Cat’s father owned sat on the corner of Main and Elm, one block down on the opposite side of the street.

  That Cat would be there at this time of night was wishful thinking on his part. It was well after ten and, with the exception of the bar, everything in Crest Point closed at nine and had for as long as he could remember.

  Three days had passed since he left her at her apartment, but she hadn’t left his mind for a single moment. This was the first time in ten years he couldn’t stop thinking about a woman. Or wanting her. Or yearning to see her again, to inhale the soft scent of her skin. Mostly to feel her arms wrapped around him.

  The thought left him conflicted. Cat had a sweet, trusting nature, and he wouldn’t insinuate himself into her life only to hurt her. Never mind they agreed their “relationship” needed to stay where it started.

  Yet every night he came to the bar for a beer, to relax and spend time with his brother. Living in L.A., he missed the simple things, like time with his family. Every night, as he left the bar to head home, he stood in this damn spot, hoping for a glimpse of her.

  The feeling scared the hell out of him.

  He turned back to his bike, forcing himself to go home, when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned in time to watch a familiar feminine form emerge into the soft light illuminating the sidewalk. His heart skipped a beat. God, she was beautiful. She wore a tank top and an ankle-length skirt, and memories of their night together filled his thoughts. He could still feel the creaminess of her thighs beneath his hands, the way her body shuddered in his arms.

  He was halfway to her before he even realized he’d moved, like some odd compulsion pulled him to her. She was locking the door when he came up behind her. In her left arm, a plastic bag, full of books he presumed, dangled over her wrist, and her small black purse was tucked under her arm.

  “Hey.”

  She startled and spun to face him, sending her hair whipping around her face. As their gazes collided, she put a hand to her chest and breathed a sigh of relief. “You scared me. I didn’t hear you.”

  He chuckled. “I’ll try to make more noise next time.”

  She didn’t laugh. Rather, she shook her head, her face somber as she turned back
to the door, pulling the key from the lock. “I’ve been a little jumpy all weekend.”

  He raised his brows in silent question.

  Her eyes searched his face, shifty and anxious. “I’ve been getting prank calls since Saturday. Since those first pictures hit the paper.”

  Unease settled in his gut. He folded his arms across his chest. “What kind?”

  Cat shook her head. “Up until this morning, just heavy breathing, all hours of the day and night.” Her hands shook, so much so the keys in her hand jangled.

  Alarm bells went off in his head. Cat wasn’t just nervous. She was scared.

  He touched her arm, hoping to ease the fear all but screaming at him from her eyes. “What happened this morning?”

  Cat’s head turned as she darted a glance around her, before her gaze finally settled on him again. “I was threatened. A very angry digitized voice called me names and told me I’d pay for my indiscretions.”

  Anger surged in his chest, settling in his gut like hot coals that set fire to his blood. That goddamn article. Someone dragged her into his mess. “Have you called the sheriff?”

  She nodded. “Yeah, but it didn’t do me any good. He said he’d log the complaint and to let him know if I get any more, but unless I’m being threatened in person, there isn’t much he can do. The calls are coming from one of those prepaid cell phones, but the phone was registered to someone who doesn’t exist.”

  “A fake name.”

  She nodded and turned to stare at the ground, her whole demeanor taking on a soft vulnerability that twisted at his insides. The calls clearly frightened her, and an overpowering need to protect her surged in his gut.

  The rebel in him flared to life like an old, familiar friend. Whenever someone pushed unfairly, something within him always pushed back. The way she looked now reminded him too much of the pain he heard in her voice as they stood in the gazebo during the fireworks. She was being threatened, and the intimidation worked. Anger surged in his blood. Damned if he’d sit by and allow someone to take that fire from her.

  Before he could stop himself, he cupped her face in his palms and seized her mouth. He allowed himself a moment to revel in the sweetness of her lips, the way they melted beneath his own as her body leaned ever so subtly into his, then released her.

  “Let ’em object to that indiscretion.” He furrowed his brow, not bothering to hide the scorn in his tone. “Whoever’s got you in their sights now has me to contend with. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  He held his hand out to her. After a moment’s hesitation, she slid her fingers into his. They walked in silence down the block. Halfway there, the tension left her body.

  When they reached his bike, Cat turned to him. One corner of her mouth quirked up. Her cute little half-smile lightened his heart. “You really are bad, Michael.”

  “It’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it.” He winked at her but sobered a breath later and reached out to stroke her cheek. “Damned if I’m going to sit by and let them make you afraid.”

  He dropped his hand and busied himself with taking off his jacket. He held it open for her, but she didn’t immediately step into it. Rather, she stood for a moment, staring at the cycle behind him, something soft in her expression.

  “Just like that night.” She whispered the words, glancing at him as she slipped her arms through the sleeves. “This is where it all started.”

  The awe and reminiscence in her tone caught him. As he slid the jacket onto her shoulders, he couldn’t bring himself to release her. He held her there, allowed himself a moment to soak in the simple connection. Her back pressed lightly against his front, soft and enticing, and he leaned his head down beside her ear, the soft aroma of warmed spices swirling around him.

  “You’re still hard to resist, too.”

  She turned her head to peer back at him, heat and longing in her eyes calling to him like a beacon in the dark. Kissing her again had been the wrong thing to do. Now he remembered how sweet and heady she tasted, how much the way she always responded to him, like she couldn’t help herself, set his body on fire. The woman made him yearn for things he hadn’t had in a damn long time.

  For the first time since Kaylee’s death, he wanted it. Cat’s eyes melted every resolve he had. Some part of him, deep inside, asked, Why shouldn’t I spend time with her? Enjoy what time I have?

  The doors to the bar swung open. A small group of women spilled out onto the sidewalk. Cat startled and pulled away from him, the spell of the moment broken.

  “I should take you home.” He lifted his helmet off the handlebars and held it out to her.

  She nodded and took the helmet, placing it on her head. He busied himself by getting on the bike and starting it, but when she climbed onto the seat behind him, everything inside him groaned in sweet agony. Her thighs wrapped around his hips invaded his thoughts.

  The ride to her apartment was too short, with Cat simply clinging to his back. At her door, she turned to him with doe eyes, wide and round, and fingered the lapels of his jacket before shrugging out of it and holding it out to him. It was sweet déjà vu.

  “Thanks for the ride. I could’ve driven. You could’ve just followed me home, but I have to admit, I feel safe with you. I couldn’t resist.” She turned to stare at the ground for a moment, something shy and vulnerable in her eyes that caught and held him as she peeked at him again.

  Cat had him pondering his future for the first time in his adult years. Had him imagining the possibility he could actually have one. He’d built a life for himself outside of this town, outside of his family’s name. He had no desire to break her heart when he left. The pull to be with her called to him all the same. Could he compromise his life’s direction for her?

  “I’m glad.” He stroked a hand down her arm. “I’ll come by in the morning, take you to the shop so you can drive your car home tomorrow night. What time should I come by?”

  She arched a brow. “Maybe eight thirty?”

  He nodded, unable to resist teasing her, just for the luxury of watching her eyes light up. “Good night, Miss Kitty.”

  Her eyes narrowed, but a grin curled at the corners of her mouth, softening the warning. “You’re the only person who gets away with calling me that, you know.”

  He grinned and winked at her. “Good.” Sobering with his next thought, he softened his tone and took one of her hands. “Call me if you need me, okay? If you get any more calls or you just get scared, don’t hesitate.”

  She nodded, offering him a gentle smile. “Thank you.”

  “See you tomorrow, Cat.”

  She nodded again. “Tomorrow.”

  He stood back, stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, wanting to make sure she was safely locked inside before he left. As she turned to her door and reached for the knob, it swung open, already ajar. She darted a glance back at him, her smile now gone, fear rising in her eyes.

  Alarm settled hard and cold in his stomach. He touched her shoulder, letting her know she wasn’t alone, then he moved around her.

  “Stay here.” He pushed the door open farther and crept cautiously inside. A sole lamp was lit in the living room, illuminating the far corner, and the place was quiet. He crept through the darkened apartment, switching on lights as he went, moving slowly from room to room.

  The first bedroom on the right looked like it hadn’t been touched. A twin bed covered in a bright pink quilt sat perfectly made, the top piled with four pillows and a mound of stuffed teddy bears. He moved to the second room, across the hall. What lay within stopped him cold. The covers lay in a heap on the floor. Red spots splattered the white sheet.

  “Michael?”

  Cat’s voice, filled with alarm, echoed through the apartment.

  “I’m coming.” He turned off the light and headed out of the bedroom.

  The sound of Cat’s sandals on the tile floor echoed up the hallway, running if his hearing was correct. His chest tightened; his gut knotted. He met her halfw
ay up the hallway. “What’s the matter?”

  Her cell phone clutched in one hand, unshed tears glistened in her eyes, her fear palpable. “Lisa’s in the hospital. She’s been attacked.”

  • • •

  Standing beside the hospital bed twenty minutes later, a mixture of anger and fear warred for supremacy in Michael’s gut. Lisa lay on her back, the bed in a reclined position, allowing her to sit somewhat upright. Nausea swirled in his stomach as he took in her face. Both eyes were black and blue and swollen shut. Her nose was broken and had been bandaged in white gauze. Ugly purple bruises covered her cheeks and lower jaw. Her entire face was swollen. According to the nurse who’d been in the room when they arrived, she also had several cracked ribs.

  Cat stood beside him white as the sheet on the bed and every bit as stiff. What held her up, he wasn’t entirely sure, but she’d claimed a hold on his hand the minute she’d taken one look at her friend.

  Cat reached out with her free hand and gently squeezed Lisa’s, where it lay on the bed. Sadly, the girl’s hand appeared the only part of her not bruised or broken. “How did this happen? Who did this to you?”

  Lisa’s eyes filled with tears, and she gave a slow shake of her head. “I don’t know.” She winced and reached up to touch the cut on her lower lip. It had been split open and now contained three stitches. “I was asleep in your room. I was so tired when I came home from work, I must have gone in there by mistake again. I woke up in the dark with someone on top of me. She was hitting me in the face with something solid and cursing at me.”

  Alarm skittered along his spine. Michael furrowed his brow. “She? Did you see her? Recognize her?”

  Lisa shook her head again, her gaze shifting to him. “Just heard her voice. She wore all black and a ski mask. Bright blue . . . ” Lisa winced again and swallowed. “Eyes. She kept calling me a whore. Told me I’d pay for my indiscretions. She kept repeating that, that I was going to pay.”

  Cat let out a quiet gasp, the sound filled with fear and recognition. He knew exactly what she was going to say before the words left her mouth. “The phone calls.” Her hand in his began to shake as she darted a glance at him. “Oh, God, Michael.”