A hand clamped down on her shoulder, and Tre yanked her to her feet. “Let’s get out of here before the cops arrive.”
“But what about Frank?” She nodded toward the red-haired man who was exacting the punishment she’d always wanted to give Malcolm.
“He’s on his own.” Tre dragged her to the back door as the police were pouring in through the front doors. “Better him than us.”
She was halfway to her car before she managed to dig her heels in and stop her brother. “I’m not going to let him take the blame.”
“Will you use your head for a goddamned minute, woman?” Tre pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and pressed it against her busted bottom lip. “You could’ve gotten killed in there.”
“We would’ve been fine if Malcolm had just stuck to his restraining order.”
“All the more reason to get out of there.”
“But we did nothing wrong.” She pushed her brother away. “And Frank was the one who almost got killed trying to protect me.”
“Frank’s been known to be stupid like that. Now come on.” Tre grabbed her arm and continued to pull her toward her car. Once they got to it, he opened the door and pushed her into the driver’s seat. “Go straight home.”
“But what about Frank?”
“He can handle himself.” Her brother glanced around, the blue lights from the police cars casting eerie shadows on the worried lines of his face. “Get out of here before someone from Malcolm’s gang comes looking for you.”
“But—”
“For fuck’s sake, Kiana, think of Savannah.”
A shock of fear raced down her spine and locked her muscles. She closed her eyes and shifted her priorities. Tre was right. She needed to go home, not risk her life any more tonight. There were more important things in life. She nodded and inserted her key in the ignition.
“I’ll check on you later.” Tre pressed the lock button before he closed her door and stepped away.
She started her car and pulled out into the street, her hands beginning to shake from what just happened. Her breath came and went in the same unsteady, quick tempo, and the side of her face throbbed. Tears stung her eyes. But she managed to round the corner to get on the main road in front of the club.
She stopped and watched the police lead a handcuffed Frank out of the club and into the back seat of a cruiser.
A new wave of guilt assaulted her and chased away the fear. She’d been a victim once, but never again. She could take action. And she could make sure Frank didn’t have to take the fall. Perhaps, if luck was on her side, she might even be able to get what she’d come to the club for in the process.
She waited until she had driven several blocks away before she pulled over on the side of the road and pulled out her cell phone. A few rings later, a sleepy voice answered.
“Tasha, it’s Kiana. Sorry to bother you at this time of night, but I have a huge favor to ask of you.”
***
Frank sat in the jail cell and pressed the cold pack against his swollen eye.
How the hell am I going to explain this one to Adam?
It had been almost two years since he’d last been in this predicament. Two years since he’d lost his temper and let his fists get the better of him. Two years since he’d beaten the crap out of someone and ended up in jail. He’d thought he’d mastered his anger issues, but the moment he saw that guy feeling up Kiana, he’d lost it.
Only now, he was starting to realize how close he’d come to losing his life.
He’d heard the gun before he’d seen it, and he could only guess that Kiana was the one who’d kept him from getting a bullet in the back. She was the one pushing Malcolm’s arm up into the air when he’d turned around. That is, until the bastard hit her.
Frank’s hand curled into a fist. There was never any excuse for hitting a woman. Ever. And he only wished the police had let him finish beating the crap out of that asshole before they’d arrested him.
His thoughts turned to her. He’d lost track of Kiana once he’d head-butted Malcolm’s gut. He could only hope she was okay. Maybe instead of using his one phone call to ask Adam to bail him out, he’d call Tre and make sure she was safe.
The cold pack was losing its chill, and he lowered it to test his eye. A narrow slit of light came through the swollen eyelid, but the images were too hazy to make it useful.
At least it was the off season. He didn’t need perfect vision until the fall.
He leaned back against the cold cinder block wall and winced. He was going to be sorer tomorrow than he was after a division rivalry game. But as he remembered the way Kiana felt in his arms, he grinned.
Yeah, she’d been totally worth it.
A low buzz came from down the hallway, and footsteps came closer. The door to his cell opened. “Come with me, Kelly,” the guard ordered.
Time to make that phone call.
But instead of leading him to the phone, the guard led him to another guard holding his belongings. “Make sure you have everything.”
A hint of unease crawled up his spine. He’d been arrested enough times to know this wasn’t protocol. “Um, have I been bailed out already?”
“Something like that,” the guard replied.
Frank made a quick inventory of his things. Watch. Wallet. Phone. Valet parking stub. It was all there, and he didn’t intend to linger in the Fulton County jail any longer than necessary. He nodded to the guard and was escorted out.
He stopped short when he spotted a familiar set of curves waiting for him.
“I’ll take him from here,” Kiana said in a tone that permitted no arguments. “Let’s go, Frank.”
“You bailed me out?” he asked.
Her eyes darted around the room, and the set of her shoulders hardened. “I’ll tell you more in the car.”
In other words, he was to keep his mouth shut until then.
He followed her to the parking garage and waited for her to unlock a late-model gold Lexus ES. She climbed into the driver’s seat in silence and started the car. Once he’d crammed himself into the passenger seat, she threw the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot before he could buckle his seatbelt. “Keep your head down.”
He was about to ask her why, until he spotted the media vans waiting in front of the jail. A curse flew from his lips, and he reclined the seat until he was lying in the backseat. He waited for the camera flashes or the spotlights, but Kiana managed to drive past them without inciting the frenzy that had followed him the last time he’d been bailed out.
Once they were safely out of sight, he sat back up. “Thanks.”
She nodded, her cheek starting to show signs of a bruise.
The anger revived in his gut. “Who was that asshole?”
“An ex,” she replied, her two-word reply revealing a hint of caution.
“Where is he now?” Every time he saw that bruise, he wanted to finish what he started.
“Don’t know, and don’t care.” A tremor filled her voice, and she gripped the steering wheel. She swallowed hard, and when she spoke again, the fear was gone. “I wanted to thank you for coming to my aid back there.”
“Anything for a beautiful lady.”
The corner of her mouth rose into a wry smile. “Are you always this much of a flirt?”
“Nope.” He laced his fingers behind his neck and leaned back. “Sometimes I’m worse.”
That earned him a small chuckle, and his chest tightened. He liked hearing her laugh, especially after tonight’s events.
“So how much do I owe you for my bail?”
“Nothing.” The smile faded, and the nervous twitch in her hands returned.
“Nonsense. I know how much they charged last time—”
“There was no bail because there were no charges filed against you.”
He snapped his head up. “Excuse me?”
She wiggled in her seat and turned to get on the Downtown Connector. “I made a few phone calls and got the
m to drop the charges against you.”
“How did you manage that? And furthermore, how much did it cost?”
“Nothing.” She turned to give him a sheepish smile. “Once I explained the situation to a few people, I was able to get the assault charges dropped in exchange for a small favor.”
He let out a low whistle. “You must know some people in high places.”
“Something like that,” she said with a shrug. “So where’s your place? Sandy Springs?”
“Roswell.” He gave her his address, still giving her a side eye. “Although I’ll warn you, I’m a bit too sore to live up to my reputation tonight, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
She laughed again, and his heart gave an unsteady thump. God, he loved that low, rich sound.
“I doubt you’re in any condition to drive yourself home tonight, so I’m just playing taxi service.”
“But maybe when I’ve recovered…”
She laughed even harder and merged onto Georgia-400. “You don’t know how to let up, do you?”
He gave her his cheeky grin, ignoring the pain around his swollen eye. “Nope. I figured you had to have a reason to bail me out of the slammer.”
The laughter vanished, and she bit that swollen bottom lip. “Actually, there was a reason I got those charges dropped.”
And it had nothing to do with her wanting to ride him senseless in the bedroom, judging by the way her shoulders tightened again. “I’m listening.”
“Well, first off, I wanted to apologize for tonight. If you hadn’t been dancing with me, you’d never have gotten into that fight, and I don’t know what I would’ve done if you’d gotten shot.”
“Aw,” he drawled, placing his hand over his heart. “So you do care about me?”
She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “You are something else.”
“It’s all part of my Irish charm.” He grew serious, though, and added, “But I take it there’s another reason why you used your connections to get me out.”
“Um, actually, there is.” She twisted her palms around the steering wheel a couple of times. “You know who my dad was, right?”
“Who doesn’t? Marshall Dyer was a legend. I remember attending one of his linebacker camps as a kid and being in complete awe of him.”
She nodded and waited a moment before continuing. “Just before he passed away last year, he started up a foundation to provide proper gear for youth football programs. He suffered multiple concussions during his career, and he wanted to make sure no kid suffered the after-effects like he did. I took over for him, and, well…” She drew up into a full-body wince, her brows forming a wrinkle above her nose. “I haven’t been able to generate the interest I’d like for the organization.”
“And where do I fit into this?”
“We’re having a fundraiser in a couple of months, and I’d really appreciate it if you could give it a celebrity endorsement.”
He drew in a slow breath, mulling over her request. “What about Tre?”
“We both know Tre’s a third stringer and in danger of getting cut any day now.” Her words were blunt but honest, without any traces of bitterness or anger. “You’re a Pro-Bowler, a big man in the football community. People know your name as well as they knew my father’s. And if your name became associated with the foundation or even with me—”
“Where do you come into this scheme?”
She squirmed under his scrutiny. “I’ll be upfront with you, Frank, and tell you that I’m not interested in a relationship or anything close to that right now. However, I wouldn’t be opposed to a few staged dates until the gala.”
“A fake relationship?”
She licked her lips and nodded. “If you and I show up at a couple of events or restaurants around town, people will think we’re dating, and when they look me up, they’ll find their way to the foundation.”
“And how realistic are you willing to make these fake dates look? Would you spare a kiss or two for the camera?”
“If necessary. I know I’m not like some of the other girls you’ve dated, but I’m respectable, and my squeaky clean image will help yours by association. I’ll play my part if it helps the foundation, but I didn’t want to lead you on in thinking it was anything real or that I’d be hopping into the sack with you on the first date. I’m not that type of girl.”
She was so upfront, so honest about her commitment to her father’s foundation, part of him was ready to agree right there. But a little voice in the back of his mind urged caution. It sounded good in general, but he needed to dig a little deeper before he associated his name with anything. Not to mention the fact he wanted more than just a few staged kisses from her. “I’ll need to speak with my agent first.”
“I understand.” She took the Roswell exit and slowed the car down to comply with the speed limit. “All our information is on the website, and I’m willing to answer any questions you or your agent may have. I just—”
He waited for her to continue, but when she didn’t, he asked, “Just what?”
“I just don’t want the foundation to fail. Daddy was so passionate about it, and I feel like I’d be letting him down if I couldn’t carry on his work. I’m a very private person, but I’m willing to go out of my comfort zone if it will make this fundraiser a success.”
Once again, she became the damsel in distress, and he was unable to resist her call for help. “I’ll see what I can do.”
She rewarded him with a smile that radiated pure joy. “Thank you.”
An odd feeling tugged at his gut when he saw it. Yeah, she knew how to press all his buttons. Too bad she was forbidden fruit.
He waved to the security guard at the entrance to his gated community. Thankfully, his celebrity status made him easily recognizable. Well, that and his red hair. The guard let them pass, and before he knew it, Kiana was pulling into his driveway.
“You going to be okay?” he asked. “You’re welcome to crash here if you need to hide out someplace safe.”
She shook her head. “Thanks, but I’m pretty safe at my place.”
The familiar awkwardness took over as he got out of the car. He wanted to see her again, but he wasn’t sure if she only wanted him for her foundation. “I’ll be in touch with you in a few days.”
“Sounds good.” Her chin quivered, despite the brave face she was trying to give him. She’d been shaken up tonight.
“Are you sure you’ll be all right tonight?” he asked one more time, the car door still open.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” The quivering vanished. “Thanks again, Frank, for everything.”
A warm glow filled her honey-colored eyes, and he wondered if “everything” included what had passed between them on the dance floor before they’d been interrupted.
“You are most welcome, lovely lady.” He closed the door and watched her drive away with a sense of uncertainty.
One thing was certain, though. He would see Kiana Dyer again.
And hopefully, soon.
Chapter Three
Frank stared at his reflection and cursed. It was bad enough he’d been the only one of his brothers cursed with red hair. Now he had a fist-sized shiner around his left eye to add to his odd look. At least the swelling had gone down from last night. He could only imagine what Kiana must’ve thought of him when she drove him home last night. No wonder she’d turned down his invitation.
He shuffled to the shower and scrubbed away the remnants of the club—the smoke, the booze, the blood. The only thing he didn’t want to forget was how tempting the goddess in his arms felt as their bodies moved together. They would’ve made magic in the sack—no doubt there. But she also spelled trouble.
Too bad he liked trouble.
Once he dried off and got dressed, he found his phone and called Adam.
His eldest brother answered with, “What have you gotten yourself into now?”
“Nothing.”
“You only call when you need me to bail you
out,” Adam accused.
Frank’s cheeks burned, and he scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, I guess I haven’t been a very good brother lately.”
“So?”
“Let me start off by saying I’m not in jail.”
“For once.”
Embarrassment turned to irritation, but it still heated his skin. “Hey, I’ve been good lately. It’s been two years since I got into trouble.”
“But there’s something you want to talk about, judging by the guilt in your voice and the fact you’re calling me at nine in the morning on a Sunday.”
Damn, his brother knew him too well. “Well, they say confession is good for the soul.”
“You’ll need more than just ten Hail Marys to absolve you of some of your sins, especially after that incident involving you and Jenny’s cousin last month. I don’t think the Nguyen family will ever forgive you for that.”
“It was all her idea to hook up in the laundry room, and I wasn’t going to turn down a little hottie like her.”
“And of course, you were nothing more than a victim.” A lighter, teasing note filled Adam’s voice. “So tell me what happened.”
“I’m sure it made the news.”
Now it was Adam’s turn to curse. The sound of a keyboard clicking filled the background. A minute later, more cursing followed. “Please tell me you weren’t in that nightclub shooting.”
“Bingo.”
Panic rose into his brother’s voice. “Shit, you’re not in the hospital or anything?”
Frank toyed with the idea of stringing Adam along, but the panic seemed too real. “I’m fine. Just sporting a lovely black eye from it all.”
A string of incomprehensible muttering filled the line for a good twenty seconds. “Start from the beginning, and by that, I don’t mean you were in the club, minding your own business.”
“But I was,” Frank said innocently. “I was hanging out with Tre when his sister, Kiana, joined us. We started dancing, then her ex showed up, gave us some grief, and one thing led to another.”
In the Red Zone Page 2