In the Red Zone

by Crista McHugh

  Now it was her turn to skid to a stop. “Am I hearing you correctly?”

  He arched one brow. “Depends on what you’re hearing.”

  “You just found out that I have a kid, and you still want to go out with me?”

  “I was asking you that.” He closed the space between them. “The ball’s in your court, Kiana. It always has been.”

  Her pulse quickened, but not from fear. She breathed in his scent and found peace. “You won’t be offended if I don’t introduce her to you for a while?”

  He gave her a crooked grin. “I’m okay with easing into that part of the relationship, so long as you don’t hold back on anything else.”

  “Meaning?” She leaned forward, waiting to see if he’d stumble back.

  He wrapped his arms around her instead. “Any more secrets?”

  There were some demons in her past, but nothing that would interfere with their relationship now. When the time came, she’d tell him about her hellish childhood. But for now, she’d revealed the biggest barriers to their relationship. “I think you know the important ones.”

  “Then I can live with that.” He lowered his lips to hers in a soft kiss. “Let’s get you back to the office for your interview. After all, I just spent a week in Florida missing you in order to bring in some more items for your fundraiser, and I don’t want you to miss out on any free promo you can get for it.”

  “You know, you never told me exactly what you did down there.” She looped her arm through his and started retracing their path. “Care to enlighten me on the way back?”

  “If you’d looked on the auction site, you would’ve seen some of the stuff I got, but since you’re giving me an opportunity to brag, let me enlighten you on how much you owe me.”

  She laughed at first, but when he started rattling off all the autographed items he’d gotten from dozens of players from multiple teams, her chest tightened. “Sweet Jesus, Frank, you’re joking, right?”

  “Nope. And if I had more time, I’d go to Arizona and pester those guys. Like I told you from the beginning, when I commit to something, I give it my all.”

  And judging by the way he was looking her, he would be just as earnest in his efforts to capture her heart.

  She smiled up at him and squeezed his arm, glad she’d listened to her heart instead of her gut. She didn’t know what the future held with him, but she looked forward to finding out. “Thank you, Frank. For everything.”

  ***

  Frank’s thoughts remained uncharacteristically somber as he drove home from Kiana’s office. She had a kid. A pretty little girl, if he was correct in assuming the picture he’d found on her desk was of her daughter. And it was that asshole’s child.

  He curled his fingers around the steering wheel and gnashed his teeth. What kind of man would hit his pregnant girlfriend? A stream of vicious thoughts ran through his mind. He didn’t carry an ounce of regret for breaking Malcolm’s jaw. He didn’t even want to imagine what would’ve happened to that innocent kid if Kiana hadn’t been brave enough to get away.

  And that was what sobered him in an instant. Kiana had been strong enough to get out. Strong enough to put restraining orders in place and protect her child. Strong enough to hide her from him until she felt safe enough to share her secret, even if it meant jeopardizing her relationship with him.

  He pulled into his driveway and was blindsided by how his big backyard would be perfect for a swing set. Sweat prickled his forehead. His stomach churned. Shit, I’m not ready for all this.

  And yet it didn’t stop him from imagining what it would be like to come home to something other than an empty house. To hear a childish voice squeal with excitement the moment he opened the door. To be tackled by half a dozen little bodies as soon as he set his stuff down, just like the way he and his brothers had greeted their dad when he’d come home from work.

  Suddenly, the idea of an instant family didn’t seem so terrifying.

  He got out of the car with every intention of pouring a stiff drink as soon as he walked through the door. Anything to soothe his rattled nerves. And there was a full bottle of scotch in the liquor cabinet that was calling to him.

  “Nice place you have here,” a man said as Frank came into the kitchen.

  Frank jumped, fear hammering through his veins. He tensed and curled his hands into fists while he searched for the nearest weapon. His defenses only went down a hair as Theodore Cully rose from the sofa and approached him with a smirk.

  “But you really need to think about upping your security,” the private investigator said with a dry sense of humor. “Way too easy to break in and help myself to your bottle of Macallan.”

  He shook his glass. There were only a couple of ice cubes left in it.

  “As long as there’s some left for me.” Frank found the open bottle on the counter and poured himself a healthy dose on the rocks. “Is there a reason why you’re here? I mean, besides proving that you could be a first-rate thief if you decided to go that route?”

  Cully chuckled and set his glass down. “Just here to deliver the goods your brother requested.”

  He retreated to the sofa, giving Frank enough time to study the private investigator. Cully appeared to be in his late thirties or early forties judging from the gray at his temples, but his body was as lean and toned as an elite triathlete’s. Frank had no idea what he’d done before coming to work for Kelly Properties. Adam and his father had both hinted that Cully had lived a colorful life before settling into the somewhat tamer profession of digging up dirt on people, and Frank wouldn’t be surprised if breaking and entering was on the man’s CV.

  Cully handed him a plain manila envelope. “You were right to be suspicious about this one. Sealed court records and everything.”

  Frank eyed the envelope, unsure if he wanted to know its contents. Kiana had already shared with him the reasons why she didn’t want anyone to know where she lived and why she couldn’t go out with him on a moment’s notice. She’d said she’d already revealed the important stuff. And yet, judging by the thickness of the envelope, there was plenty she hadn’t told him about. He held the glass in his hand, wondering if the wetness along his palm was due to condensation or his own sweat. “Care to give me the highlights?”

  Cully shook his head. “Not what I’m paid to do. But I will say Ms. Dyer is a very interesting woman. A little paranoid, but for good reason.”

  Frank already knew that. But the unknown terrified him even more. He liked Kiana. He trusted her. Hell, he could even be falling in love with her based on the fact he didn’t feel the urge to run away scared shitless when she told him she had a kid. But would learning all her secrets ruin the good thing they had?

  The private investigator placed the envelope on the counter and retrieved his things. He took a moment to scribble something on a pad of paper and tore off the sheet. “By the way, this is a much better security system. Your current one took me less than a minute to hack.”

  “Noted.” Frank took the paper and followed it up by draining his glass of single malt scotch. The whisky burned all the way down to his gut but did little to ease the tension squeezing his chest. “Anything else?”

  “Nope.” Cully offered him a mock salute. “Always good doing business with your family. I’ll see myself out.”

  Once he was alone, Frank stared at the sealed envelope for what felt like an eternity, still clutching the empty glass in his fist. He finally set it down before he shattered the thin crystal and picked up the envelope. It weighed more than he’d expected, and new knots formed between his shoulders. He held the equivalent of Pandora’s box, and he waffled on whether he wanted to unleash the chaos it contained.

  The image of her curled up on the sofa in fear last Friday replayed through his mind, and a bitter taste filled his mouth.

  But if I want a future with her, I need to know her past, if only to avoid terrifying her like that again.

  After another glass of whisky, he worked up the coura
ge to break the confidential sticker holding the flap down and slid out the papers inside.

  The first thing that greeted him was a picture of a woman with blond hair and blue eyes. Cully had paper-clipped it on top of a stack of papers labeled as “Mother.”

  Frank studied it for moment. The woman was young and pretty in a late-1980s sort of way. Kiana had inherited her mother’s full lips and high cheekbones, but when he pulled the photo aside, the next thing he saw was an arrest record.

  Shannon Marie Tisdale, age 22. Extortion.

  Frank silently cursed and turned the page.

  Shannon Marie Tisdale, age 23. Fraud.

  The few pages contained more arrest records ranging from petty theft to possession to prostitution. Just when he began to wonder if they’d locked up Kiana’s mother and thrown away the key, he landed on a photocopy of a newspaper article.

  “Forsythe County Woman Found Slain in Home.”

  His blood ran cold, but he kept reading.

  Shannon Tisdale, age 30, was found dead of multiple gunshot wounds in her home at approximately 11:21 PM last night. Police had been called to the victim’s home by her eight-year-old daughter to break up a domestic dispute, but the victim was already deceased when they arrived. 911 records are not available at this time, but a detective at the scene confirmed that the victim had been alive when the call was made and that the victim’s boyfriend, Duane Filbert, has been taken into custody. Mr. Filbert had been arrested earlier this month for domestic assault against the victim and was out on $5,000 bail.

  Frank reread the article half a dozen times, growing more and more nauseated each time he came to the part about the call being placed by the woman’s eight-year-old daughter. Jesus. Kiana had been there the night her mother was murdered. She’d been the one to call for help. And the police had arrived too late to save her mom.

  He poured another glass of the scotch and took a sip before even contemplating the rest of the documents. He’d already learned more than he wanted to know. Kiana had plenty of demons in her past, all right, but the fact she’d managed to get her shit together and move past them made her even more precious to him. Now he understood her protective stance when it came to both her daughter and her personal life, and he would wait for her to tell him more about her past when she was ready.

  He gathered up the rest of the documents and ran them through the shredder. He’d seen enough. A minute later, they were nothing more than a wastebasket full of bits of paper.

  The sheet of paper Cully had given him with the name of the better security system caught his attention. He carried it over to his computer and entered the name to find a local retailer. If he could ever convince Kiana to stay the night at his place, he wanted her to be as safe as possible, starting with a top-of-the-line security system.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Kiana tugged up the bodice of her strapless yellow chiffon dress and prayed she wouldn’t suffer a wardrobe malfunction before the evening was over. The dress had fit perfectly at the shop when she’d tried it on last month, but the stress of setting up the fundraising gala had shed ten pounds from her frame, most of it coming from her bust. Too bad it hadn’t come off her booty. That was one area where she had more than enough to spare.

  Sherita motioned for her to join her in the corner of the ballroom and handed her two silicone pads. “Slip these into your bra.”

  “I never thought I’d be going back to stuffing my bra,” Kiana muttered as she tucked the pads under her breasts. A few jiggles later, her cleavage filled out the sweetheart neckline to where she no longer feared that the gown would slip low enough to expose a nipple. “Thanks.”

  “What are best friends for?” Sherita waved her arm out at the empty but fully decorated ballroom. “Ready for this?”

  “Ready as I’ll ever be.” She patted her hair one more time to make sure no more curls had slipped free from the tangle of bobby pins holding them back in the updo she’d gotten earlier this afternoon. “What are our numbers so far?”

  Sherita pulled out her iPad and tapped on the screen. “The gala is sold out at eight hundred attendees. The items here for the silent auction are estimated to be worth two hundred and twenty thousand dollars, and the online auctions are currently estimated to bring in another six hundred and ninety thousand dollars.”

  Kiana’s eyes widened as she added up the numbers. “Holy cow, Sherita, we may crack a million dollars.”

  “If we do, you need to give Mr. Well Connected a very special thank-you gift.” She nodded toward the man with bright red hair coming their way. “And I hope it includes some kinky stuff.”

  Kiana’s cheeks flamed. She elbowed her friend, but she couldn’t take her eyes off Frank. The cut of his tux framed his broad shoulders and added an air of refinement to his muscular physique. His hair burned like fire under the dim light of the ballroom’s chandeliers, but it paled in comparison to the heat radiating from his pale blue eyes.

  His grin widened as he joined them. “You ladies look lovely this evening,” he said even though his gaze never strayed from Kiana.

  “You look very nice, too.”

  “Of course I do. Just because I’m a dumb jock doesn’t mean I can’t pull off the James Bond look from time to time.” He smoothed down the satin lapels of his jacket and straightened his bow tie. “But I’ll look even better with a lovely lady like yourself at my side.”

  He offered her his arm, and Kiana took it with a roll of her eyes. “Do you ever stop?”

  “Is there a reason why I should?” He lowered his mouth to her ear. “You look as delicious as lemon meringue pie. Sweet, but tempting me to taste you.”

  He pressed his lips to the sensitive area behind her earlobe, and a flash of desire shot straight to her core, making her knees wobble. She hadn’t had any more dates with him since she’d told him about Savannah—mostly because she’d been so focused on making sure the gala went off without a hitch—but that didn’t stop Frank from snagging a few passionate kisses whenever he could.

  Of course, with the front doors to the ballroom about to open, this wasn’t the time or place to screw him senseless like she wanted to. “Behave,” she said through a clenched smile. “Tre is staring at us.”

  “Let him. For all he knows, we’re going over last-minute preparations for the evening.” He trailed his fingers along her bare back. “For example, I’m dying to know if you’re wearing those sexy granny panties with the secret opening tonight.”

  Dear Lord, if he didn’t stop, she’d make a spectacle of herself by dragging him to whatever private location she could find just to ease the ache building between her legs. As it was, her skin was growing so warm, she was in danger of breaking out in a sweat and ruining her makeup. “Not tonight.”

  “Too bad. I really enjoyed them. Almost as much as I enjoyed you.”

  There was just enough innuendo in his voice to raise a whimper into her throat. “Frank Kelly, if you don’t behave…”

  He laughed and added a few inches of much-needed space between them. “You’re so sexy when you’re flushed.”

  “Maybe so, but this is supposed to be an upscale event, so please practice some decorum.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I promise to be a perfect gentleman.” But the wicked glint in his eye told her he’d only stay that way until she told him to stop.

  She guided him to where Denise and Tre stood ready to greet the attendees.

  Her stepmother squeezed her hand. “You’ve done such a beautiful job, Kiana. Your daddy would be proud.”

  “It’ll only be a success if we raise the money we need to carry out his mission.” She nodded to the ballroom staff waiting by the door. “It’s six thirty, so let’s get this party started.”

  The next hour passed in a blur. As soon as the doors opened, the attendees started pouring in. Atlanta’s elite had turned out in full force, and she could only pray they brought their checkbooks with them. Soft music played in the background while Miss Rosa’s staff wandere
d the room with polished trays carrying mouth-watering delicacies. Hundreds of voices created a low hum that drowned the pounding of her heart, and heat from the crowd chased away the early April evening chill that had earlier filled the empty ballroom.

  Kiana worked her way around the room with Frank firmly at her side. He introduced her to some of the guests he’d invited, starting with some of his teammates and working his way up to local celebrities. She smiled until her cheeks ached and chatted until her throat felt raw, but inside, she could barely suppress her excitement. The evening was turning into everything she’d hoped it would be.

  She was just about to beg Frank to take her to the table so she could rest her feet when she turned around and came face to face with Doug Boutry. Her mouth went dry, and all the small talk she’d so easily made all evening failed her.

  Frank gave his friend a fist bump. “Dougie, you made it.”

  “Of course I did, bro. I gotta make sure my autographed jersey goes for at least a grand.” The basketball star turned his attention to her. “Frank’s been talking nonstop about you and your foundation, and I want to do what I can to help.”

  She opened her mouth, but no words came out, and she found herself nodding like an idiot.

  “Give her a minute, Dougie.” Frank grinned and winked at her. “She’s a huge fan, but if she saw the sorry-ass way you played Assassin’s Creed—”

  “Don’t be dissin’ my Xbox skills in front of a hot woman, Kelly.” Doug straightened so he had a couple of inches of height over Frank and glared down at him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were worried I’d steal her away from you.”

  “Hah!” Frank tried to act cocky, but a brief flash of worry flickered across his face when he looked at her.

  It was no contest. Kiana looped her arm through Frank’s. “Sorry, Dougie, but I’m already spoken for.”

  “Well, if you change your mind…” Now it was Doug’s turn to wink at her before chasing after someone he knew.

  “You know you can talk to him,” Frank teased. “It’s just Dougie.”