“Where to?” the driver asked.
Luke looked to Cassandra, who had already cozied up onto the opposite side of the backseat. She held his jacket closed tightly around her neck, rested her head on the window, and breathed deeply with eyes closed.
Shaking his head, Luke responded, “Nineteenth Street.” She could come back with him and sleep it off. Then he’d take her wherever she needed in the morning.
Chapter Three
Cass stretched her arm over her head, breathing in the morning. She hadn’t slept that well in a long time. Once her head had hit the pillow, she was O-U-T. It felt great to get so much uninterrupted sleep.
What a crazy night she’d had. Walking in on Daniel and her, in the bed he shared with Cass had hurt, which made her irrational, she realized now. Good thing she’d talked some sense into herself and decided not to—
Cass took in the sight of the small bedroom. White walls. Navy comforter. Navy curtains. Dark wood dresser in front of her.
None of which were hers.
Where in the hell was she?
Luke.
She blew out a breath. Damn it, she hadn’t talked crap into herself. He’d been the one who’d helped her. Talked with her. Offered his jacket. Called her a taxi. Luke had said a woman’s needs came first and that he was always open and honest with women he slept with. One at a time, he’d said.
Good to know some of those men still existed.
But how embarrassing. She’d spewed all her craptastic relationship drama all over him last night. Ugh. Why had she even listened to herself when she’d said she needed to get revenge on Daniel by having a one-night stand? What would it have proved? Not a thing. Only that she could stick something long and hard where she needed it for one night. Big whoop.
Cass sat up and threw her legs over the side of the bed. What’s done was done. Time to get a move on. She needed to get in touch with Daniel and not-so-politely explain that he could shack up with his new bedmate from now on because Cass wasn’t giving up their newly decorated condo.
She wore the same clothes from the night before. Luke’s suit jacket draped across the end of the bed. Her purse rested on the dresser, so she reached for it. Head pounding, she pulled her cell out of her bag.
8:23 a.m.
She also had a reminder notice on her screen.
10 a.m.: Miguel at Patterson Park with Ronan. Stop him!
Her body jolted to attention. She needed to go! She needed to stop her student from ruining his life.
Swiping a finger across her phone’s screen, she searched for her Uber app to request a ride. She checked her location on the interactive map—19th Street, which was more than twenty minutes away from Patterson Park—and scanned for a driver nearby. She needed to get home, grab her winter clothes, and get over to the park ASAP. With any luck, a car could be sitting outside in five.
She selected a driver who was a few minutes away and quickly gathered up her purse, throwing her phone inside.
Cassandra opened the bedroom door to find the living room empty. She ventured to the stairs to seek Luke out, thank him for his help last night, and then be on her way.
Footsteps and clanging sounded overhead in the kitchen. She placed a foot on the first step, then heard female voices and stilled. Gripping the railing for balance, Cass tuned in.
“Over my dead body,” a female voice shouted. “I’m going to squeeze them!”
“Screw you,” another woman said just as loud. “You don’t do it right. You’re always too rough.”
“Ha! You wish you had my firm grip,” the first voice said. “Luke likes the way I do it.”
“On days I’m not around, maybe.”
Firm grip? Luke likes it?
“What can I do for him?” a third, mousy voice asked.
What the—? Cass tiptoed to the top step and placed her ear to the door.
“Well, when he gets out of the shower,” the second voice continued, “he’s gonna be ravenous. Who’s gonna oblige him?”
“I will,” the first said. “It’s my turn. You two gave it to him yesterday morning.”
WTF. This was getting out of hand. What happened to one woman at a time? Honesty? And a woman’s needs first?
All a load of bull.
Just like Daniel.
Motherfu—
“I’m not playin’,” the second voice said. “You squeeze ’em, and I’ll see to it you never squeeze nothin’ again.”
If she had to listen to these women get Luke off on the other side of the door, she might be sick. Maybe while they were busy arguing over who was going to service Luke, Cass could sneak out the front door and catch her Uber.
Another pair of heavy footsteps sounded and the women hushed one another.
“Ladies, ladies,” Luke said through a laugh. “There’s plenty of me to go around.”
Cass’s hands curled into fists. What a dill weed. He was all sweet last night talking that shit about honesty and fidelity. Right. And here he was with a gaggle of women at home meeting his every need.
“What about the girl downstairs?” the mousy voice asked. “Shouldn’t we wait for her?”
“Nah,” Luke said. “Let’s go ahead and get started. When she wakes up she can join in.”
Think again, buddy.
Footsteps continued and then she heard what sounded like three sets of kissing sounds. Then female giggles.
Oh. My. God. Change in plans. Bum rush the door, knock out anyone in her way, and forty-yard dash it out the front. She’d be damned if she turned into a Stepford in his brothel. He’d already thrown her in the basement for crying out loud.
But before she could, the pressure against her ear evaporated. Gravity shifted and she found herself falling forward toward a brown checkerboard linoleum floor. Her hands shot out, preparing for impact, but they were about three seconds too late. Her cheek and shoulder hit, sending a slice of white-hot pain down the entire left side of her body. She sucked in a breath and gritted her teeth. That hurt like a bugger.
Worse, when she tilted her head up, a pair of polished black boots stood in front of her.
“You’re awake,” Luke said in a humorous tone.
His open palm appeared in her view, but she slapped it away. Rude, yes. But her pride hurt pretty deep right now.
Pushing aside the embarrassment, she got to her feet and brushed her hands down the front of her jeans. “Yes. I’m awake. And I’ll be going now.”
Cass stepped forward, but Luke moved in front of her like an impenetrable brick wall. He wasn’t a big man. More lean in stature than bulky. He was in a fitted long-sleeved shirt and cargo pants, looking just as put together and confident as if he wore a suit and tie. A quality she found very appealing.
Another reason why she needed to be on her way.
Slowly lifting her chin to meet his gaze, she clenched her jaw. “Out of my way, please.”
His cool blue eyes watched her, making her squirm. “Why the rush?”
“No rush,” she lied, trying to step around him. “I just have to be going.” Far, far away from Hugh Hefner and his team of ball squeezers.
He maneuvered to block her way and crossed his arms. “Join me in the dining room first, then I can take you where you need to go. I’m heading out—”
“No thanks. I can take myself.”
His eyebrows crunched and his lip puckered in something resembling annoyance and confusion.
Good, her feelings exactly.
“Fine,” he said. “I won’t take you anywhere.” He hitched a thumb over his shoulder and twisted toward the dining room. “But the ladies—”
A half-hysterical laugh bursted out, cutting him off. “Oh, I heard everything the ladies said. No thanks. I’ve had my fill of men and their extra women, remember?”
“What are you talking about?” He twisted again toward the dining room. “They—”
“Like to service you and squeeze your balls. I heard all about it.” She sidestepped him and shuff
led through the kitchen toward the open doorway. Over her shoulder, she called, “Not my kind of thing, so I’ll be going now. Nice knowing you. Thanks for your help last night.”
She made it through the doorway and came to a skidding halt. Three women with wide, wrinkled eyes stared back, mouths open.
They sat at a table covered in food. Scrambled eggs, bacon, coffee, muffins, bagels, and a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice.
One who looked to be in her late sixties with bottle-brown hair, a round midsection, and low-cut sweater cracked a smile first. Actually it was more of a smirk. “I’m up for squeezin’ balls just as much as the next gal. But if I’m doin’ it, it ain’t Luke’s I’m squeezin’.”
Another woman, much more petite than the first, wearing a pink sweater and pearls looked away. “Oh, Estelle.”
The third, white-haired and heavyset, shook her head. “I agree. We all heard the poor girl. You didn’t have to repeat it.”
Estelle shrugged and reached for the spoon in the large bowl of scrambled eggs. She scooped the food and flopped a pile onto her plate. “Just settin’ the record straight, Maybel. I love me some balls, but I prefer ones that are a little more…ripe.” She looked over Cass’s shoulder presumably at Luke standing behind her. “No offense, Lukie. You’re a doll. But I enjoy my men like my steak. Well-seasoned and leathery.”
Luke rested a hand on Cass’s back and pointed with the other. “Cassandra, please meet Estelle, Maybel, and Celia.”
God. Had she really said balls in front of elderly women?
“I…I… I’m sorry.” She could have cooked an additional serving of eggs on her face for as hot as it burned. “I had no idea…I thought…” She looked over her shoulder at Luke, who was grinning, then back to the women at the table. “I heard you say…”
“Forget it.” Luke pressed against her spine, nudging her toward an empty seat, and urged her down to sit. Picking up the white china plate in front of her, he started placing food on it.
“Don’t forget the OJ.” Estelle’s lips twitched. “Freshly squeezed with Maybel’s firm grip.”
Celia, the one wearing pearls, appeared to be choking on something.
Luke sat at the head of the table, his front to the sliding glass door that filtered bright winter light in. He filled his own plate and then began to eat.
Cass glanced at her plate. Back at Luke. At the older women. The kitchen table. The front door. Back at the basement door.
What. The. Hell. Was. Going. On. Here?
“Are you feeling all right, dear?” Maybel asked.
“Yes, fine,” she said.
“Your face is a very deep shade of red,” Maybel continued. “Are you hot? I meant to turn the heat down. With the frigid temperatures outside, the damn furnace runs constantly. Be glad you and Luke were in the basement. Much cooler down there. My bedroom upstairs is a sauna.” To prove her point, she pinched her sleeveless cotton shirt at the chest and pulled it away from her body.
“I’m fine. Thank you,” Cass said.
Wait a minute… Her bedroom upstairs? Jesus, they all lived together! Not to mention that none of them seemed at all fazed by Cass’s presence. Was it customary for Luke to bring random women from bars to his grandmother’s house?
It was her turn to cough and choke.
In one quick motion, Luke jumped from his seat and pulled her out of her chair, spinning her around. Her vision whirled, so she laid a hand on his solid chest to get her bearing before focusing on his worried gaze.
“You okay?” he asked.
She nodded, afraid to say anything for fear the coughing would start all over.
Her phone made a chirping sound and buzzed in her purse, making her brain clear up immediately.
Her Uber! She leaped away from him. “I have to go.”
“Wait, what?” Luke said. “Where? Stay and I’ll—”
She started out of the room and spoke over her shoulder. “Can’t. I have an appointment. Thanks so much for your help last night.” She froze and looked at the older women. “He, uh, didn’t help me, help me last night. He just gave me a ride here because I drank too much. Nothing, you know, like that happened…here. In this house. With all of you here.” How embarrassing would this moment have been if she’d actually slept with Luke? She didn’t want to think about it.
The women blinked, but didn’t comment.
Right. Shut it, Stone, and get going. “Thanks again. And…good-bye.”
“But—” Luke started.
She was already out the front door and jogging down the steps toward the gray sedan waiting for her.
…
Luke pulled his red sports car behind Tyke’s lifted black pickup. The team was using an abandoned bread factory as a meeting point. With cobblestone streets, an all brick front, and square tile windows, the structure was indicative of the forties era from when it had been built.
Water in the harbor gently lapped against the dock across the street. While the sun was bright enough to keep the water just above freezing, the sky held a gray tinge, reinforcing the impending harsh winter. It had already snowed twice this month, leaving behind a few inches on sidewalks and grassy areas. Meteorologists warned of more snow, a possible few feet, though no one seemed to be able to nail down exactly when. Not that it mattered. Even an inch was too much. The faster they solved this case, the faster he could end the threat on his life.
As Luke walked into the dimly lit room, the guys caught his movement through the doorway and turned.
“’Bout time,” Ash Cooper said with a scowl, hands on his hips. “I almost had Reese GPS your phone.” The DEA team leader looked like a damn cover model from one of Luke’s foster mother’s military romance novels. Strong jawline. High-and-tight haircut. Cargo pants. Black long-sleeved shirt with sleeves pulled up past his thick forearms.
Luke pulled a chair from the corner of the room, dragging the legs twenty paces across the bare concrete floor next to Bryan Tyke, who lounged in his own chair. There were days Tyke could be confused for either Chewbacca or Bigfoot. The beast of a man had a full beard and long dirty-blond hair pulled back with a hair tie. He wore a tightly fitted white T-shirt and camo pants with military boots. In other words, his Sunday best.
Jason Reese—the fourth member of the team—sat quietly at the other end of the table, wearing a simple long-sleeved shirt, flat-front pants, and small wire-frame glasses. He looked every bit like the cybersecurity geek he’d graduated as, rather than the DEA agent he was now. One leg kicked out in front of him, he reviewed footage on a video screen. Knowing Reese, it was probably the tenth time he’d been over that same footage. The guy was thorough and anal as shit.
“Seriously,” Ash said. “Where the fuck were you? It doesn’t take that goddamn long to get off. You stop for coffee and a biscuit with her this morning or what? You did go home with someone last night, didn’t you? I’m assuming that’s why you didn’t answer your goddamn cell.”
It wasn’t news that when Luke went to bars he usually ended up going home with a woman to her place, often leaving the morning after to meet the guys. However, taking a woman to Maybel’s house and letting her sleep in his bed was a completely different story. He wasn’t getting into all that with them because it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like Cassandra had stuck around or they’d see each other again.
Still would’ve been nice to talk a little more with her before she ran out of the house like it was wired to explode. Which still boggled his mind.
Luke ran a hand over his short hair. “Just some complications this morning.”
Ash did a double take, so did Tyke and Reese. Ash seemed to be fighting a smirk and losing miserably. “Complications? Since when does Luke Calder have complications with a woman? What happened? Couldn’t close the deal? Stage fright?”
“She get a look at your tiny pecker?” Tyke said through a grin. “Or wait, let me guess—stage five clinger. Chick wouldn’t let you leave her place because she thought the se
x meant a relationship, flowers, and a ring.”
All three men laughed.
Luke sat in his chair, clenching and unclenching his jaw. She’d left. Just like that. No explanation. Her phone made some kind of noise and then she bolted. He hadn’t expected her to hang around forever, he hadn’t wanted her to, but he’d at least planned to take her back to her place or wherever she needed. She hadn’t given him that chance. And he wasn’t really sure why that bothered him.
But it did.
Normally he was more than thrilled for a roll in the sack and a quick dash out the door. But he wasn’t used to the woman being the one rushing out.
His mind started doing all sorts of tricks he didn’t care for. He wondered where she’d ran off to. Where she lived. Where she was now. If she was okay. It was completely new territory for him. Usually it was thanks for the amazing sex and let’s do it again sometime, knowing full well they’d never call each other. He preferred it that way.
He hadn’t even slept with Cassandra, so why did he care so much that she was gone?
The men stared at him with raised eyebrows.
“Are we here to do a job?” Luke asked. “Or do you girls wanna braid each other’s hair? Fill me in on what I missed.”
Ash stared at him like he wanted to comment but didn’t. “Sure.” He strode around the table and sat in a chair behind the largest video monitor, which displayed a vast snow-covered wooded area with a frozen pond. “Intel suggests the boys will be there today and they’ll have some of the stash. Our objective is to confirm that Ronan is pushing drugs to minors. Once we receive solid confirmation, we move in.”
Tyke bit into a chocolate-glazed donut, tearing half of it with his teeth, and said through the mouthful, “What about the gang? Don’t we care that Ronan’s recruiting kids and then they’re dying?”
“We care about the drugs and the lives it’s taking,” Ash said. “So if we find Serrano, we’ll end the threat of death for those gang recruits.”
José Serrano, responsible for creating some of the world’s most addictive and dangerous drugs, was supplying the local-area gang with synthesized shit. Might not seem like a huge deal if a drug supplier was selling drugs to a gang, but the issue the DEA had was that the gang was recruiting kids from the neighboring high schools, and some of those recruits were dying after taking the drugs.
In Walked Trouble (Under Covers) Page 3