“Mary Patterson is not the sweet lady trying to make amends. She came after me because she needed my money and access to resources.” He remembered the initial conversation and how quickly it skipped from a description of who she was back then to how he’d made something of his life and owed her. She almost demanded that he step in and find out the truth about Nick.
He’d tried to build an emotional wall against her. Mentally insisted he didn’t care that she’d found a life without him. Pretended Nick wasn’t part of his past, so no debt to him existed.
But loyalty had won out. Matthias agreed after he’d looked into her, searched the records he’d purposely never checked. But that didn’t mean he trusted the woman who gave birth to him. There wasn’t a bond between them and she made it clear she wanted to maintain a strict emotional distance. She gave him up long ago and wasn’t looking to replace Nick in her heart.
It had been a hell of an introduction to his only known blood relation.
But Kayla didn’t need that level of detail. Matthias tried to choke off the words. Make the verbal unloading stop. But then Kayla turned and looked at him. She wore her pain like a blanket. It flashed in her eyes and dragged around her mouth.
“She told you I killed him.” The hurt hummed under Kayla’s words.
“She believes it.” Matthias wasn’t sure why. Even the little bit he’d read in Wren’s file pointed to other suspects. To Doug Weston and another man who worked at the university and later killed his neighbors when his anger exploded.
There were hints about jealousy between two of the housemates. People in town had been interviewed. Still, Mary’s anger focused solely on Kayla and he now saw that he’d picked up on that and silently blamed Kayla, too.
That was before he got to know her. Now, everything had changed.
Kayla shook her head. “So do you.”
“I did.” He had to admit that much because he couldn’t lie to her about her life. “At first, before I met you.”
Kayla stepped away from the window. She moved closer to him, but not within touching range. “You came here to hunt me down and drag me back. Your goal is to put me in front of a jury, regardless of the evidence. And for whatever reason, you being here made me a target. You don’t think Mary is the one who broke into my place, but it sure feels like it to me.”
He didn’t want to argue with her about the last part, but he needed her to understand his motives. “No, I came here for answers.”
That much was true. At one time he thought all questions would lead to her, but none did.
“Then, what, you couldn’t resist me?” She let out a harsh laugh. “Is that what I’m supposed to believe?”
God damn if that wasn’t the truth. “I didn’t break in here. I’m not trying to find evidence against you. I absolutely do not want to hurt you. The exact opposite is true.”
“What is this, Matthias? What are we doing . . . playing house? I really don’t understand.”
“I want to protect you.” It was his go-to move. After a lifetime of providing the bodies and supplies to rescue people, it was a habit for him. He’d made a promise long ago. A pledge to step in whenever he could and not let another innocent person die on his watch.
“Why help me? Because it’s what you do?”
“It’s who I am and . . .” Part of him wanted to write off his feelings for her as part of that. She was one more person who needed him to put his body in front of her. She’d never asked to be saved, and she never would, but that didn’t stop him from being him. The other part of him knew that he was there, in this studio, because he couldn’t stay away from her.
“What? Finish that sentence.”
“I give a shit about you.” There it was. The hard truth. She was not a job. Not anymore.
“I don’t—” Her voice cut off as glass shattered behind her.
Adrenaline kicked in along with his instincts. He wrapped his arms around her and they took flight. She groaned as they hit the floor. He tried to slip a hand under her head to keep her from cracking her skull. Also shifted so that she didn’t take the brunt of their joint weight.
As soon as they were down, he dragged her body under his. Rolled on top of her as glass rained over his back. He felt the twinges through his thin shirt but ignored the pain. When he heard another sharp crack, he tucked her tighter against the floor and under him.
Gunshots. That had to be it. Someone had fired through the window and nicked the glass. Splintered it and now shards lay all over the floor all around them.
His mind zipped to the layout of the studio. He blocked out the memory of her standing right there, in the firing line, just a minute before. Thanks to their fight, his guns were over by the bed. He had one tucked in the loveseat cushions, but crawling to it meant leaving her unprotected and that was not going to happen.
She called his name as a siren wailed in the distance. That was the one thing he could count on. In a quiet tight-knit community, someone would hear the strange sound and call the police. The noise should scare the attacker away, but he couldn’t be sure, and part of him wanted the person caught right now.
He eased up his hold on her, but she grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. “Don’t leave me.”
“Never, baby.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head and ran his hands over her. He didn’t feel blood. Didn’t hear any more shooting. “I think we’re clear.”
“I don’t want to move.”
He understood but playing defense was not his game. He put a hand against the floor, thinking to push up and look around. Glass dug into his palm. “Shit.”
“What?”
“Stay here.”
He needed a blanket and a way to move her that guaranteed her skin wouldn’t be ripped to shreds. The siren grew closer. He thought he also heard voices, like maybe people were out on the pier. That was a dangerous game with a shooter on the loose, but he had to hope the activity had scared the person off.
He shifted his weight and leaned away from her. Kept stretching until he could snag the corner of the blanket off the loveseat. He shook it out best as he could from his position on the floor and wrapped it around her.
With a hand on her hip, he stood up. “I need you to wait here. Help is coming.”
“I thought you were the help.”
“Not tonight.” And that pissed him off.
He took a step and more glass crunched under his bare foot. At this rate, he’d be in pieces before the ambulance arrived. That meant staying put and not running after the attacker. Grabbing a pillow, he put it under his good foot and stood up. Slid the thing across the floor in a half crouch as he looked for his phone in the new round of mess in the apartment.
He spied it on the table beside the bed and ignored every cut and strain as he went to it. His body seemed to move in slow motion and a headache slammed through his brain. He didn’t remember hitting his head against the floor, but he must have.
He grabbed the phone just as the sirens rang out right outside. He trusted the police, but he needed his people on this. He looked down at the screen and the apps blurred. “What the hell?”
“Matthias?” Her soft voice carried through the room.
He looked down and saw her sitting on the floor in the blanket. The color had left her face and she stared at his arm.
He recognized the dazed look in her eyes and it scared the shit out of him. “Are you hurt?”
“You are.”
He’d started to go back to her but stopped when she said that. “What?”
She scrambled to her knees. “There’s blood . . . everywhere.”
“I don’t . . .” He touched his hand to his head. He could feel the wetness and see the red on his fingers. “Well, fuck.”
“You’ve been shot.”
Chapter 20
Kayla smelled rubbing alcohol and disinfectant. The combination brought back memories of another time. Another horror.
She grabbed on to the edge of the emerg
ency room bed to keep from falling down. It was irrational and had nothing to do with the people, but she hated doctors and hospitals and police. It had been a nonstop parade of all of them during the last two hours and the voice in her head screamed for her to race out there.
“At least you didn’t faint.” Garrett sounded amused as he stood in front of Matthias.
“Go away.” The white bandage wrapped around his shoulder stood out against his bare skin. He sat shirtless on the edge of the table with his legs dangling over the side. He’d come into the hospital wearing only underwear but now he wore scrubs.
Garrett shrugged. “We should probably talk about your bodyguard skills though.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Garrett looked at her and smiled. “Yeah, he’s fine.”
Despite the good news, panic crashed through every part of her. She hadn’t been able to sit still when the ambulance came or when she saw the blood running down the side of Matthias’s head and pooling on his arm. So much blood. Her adult life had been painted with it and the smell made her want to heave.
She closed her eyes and tried to focus on what the paramedic had told her. Head wounds came with a lot of blood. That didn’t necessarily mean anything. The doctors here in the emergency room insisted Matthias was concussion-free. But her stomach kept rolling.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
At the sound of his concerned voice, her eyes popped open. She looked at him, saw the frown and the worried expression and rushed to reassure him. There was enough trauma without her adding more. “A few cuts and a sore back from when we hit the floor, but I’m fine.”
“Good.” Garrett did that annoying clapping thing. “We got our story straight and delivered it.”
She had no idea what he was even talking about. She’d been shaken up and thrown around. Her brain barely clicked on at this point. “What does that mean?”
“We’re covered. We followed the story we discussed and agreed to.”
“You basically ordered me to lie.”
“Convincingly.” Matthias shifted and winced. His hand went to his injured shoulder and stayed there. “And what’s not to like about our cover? There was a party boat on the water and people drinking too much and having a good time on the pier. Someone went too far when celebrating and I got hit by a stray bullet.”
“Never mind that the whole story is ridiculous. It’s also not even remotely what happened.” Enough with the cover stories. They needed protection and investigators. Everything she hated, but that was tough. People she cared about worked and lived near the marina. Customers and tourists deserved to feel safe. If anyone got hurt or the marina got an unfair reputation because of her . . . damn, she could not live with any more guilt.
“But plausible,” Garrett explained.
“It’s a good plan.” Matthias brushed his hand over the bandage, back and forth as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it. “We could sell it because security had been out there. I’ll also have one of your men provide some witness testimony.”
They sounded so sure and practiced, like they’d done this a hundred times before. Maybe they had. This might be routine for them but shootings were new to her. She did not want them to become a habit.
The idea of Matthias being a step too late the next time shook her. She knew with absolute certainty he’d always step in front of her. But one time he might misjudge. He might be too late or go too far.
No, this had to end—now—and she was the only one with the power to do it. “We can’t play around here. This is serious.”
Matthias stopped looking around the enclosed space and stared at her. “It’s always been serious. Someone threatened to kill you.”
She didn’t need the reminder. “What I’m saying is that there have been threats in the past, but they were just that. No one acted on them until now and look what happened.”
Garrett scoffed. “He’s fine.”
“He’s not fine,” she shot back.
“I actually am.” Matthias put his hand over hers on the table. “I’ve lived through far worse.”
She wanted to turn her hand over and slip her fingers through his. Wanted to plead with him and make him understand that she could not have one more body on her conscience. She settled for raising her voice. For getting angry. “Don’t be flippant. Now is not the time for your He-Man impression.”
He squeezed her fingers. “Kayla, listen to me.”
That soothing tone. He brought that out whenever he wanted to convince her of something. She didn’t know where he’d learned the skill but it worked. Every time it lulled her, made her think about giving in.
Not this time. “You’re bossy even when you’re injured.”
He shot her a crooked smile. “It’s an all-the-time thing. Get used to it.”
“I’m furious with you . . .” Fear overwhelmed her frustration. “But this is different. You could have been killed.”
“Wait, what did he do to piss you off before the shooting?”
Kayla was about to wave Garrett’s question away when Matthias answered. “She now knows about Nick being my half brother.”
He told Garrett the truth. She had not expected that . . . then the words hit her and she turned on Garrett. “You knew before me? Was there an article in the newspaper and I missed it?”
“You two don’t need me for this. I’m going to wait outside.” Garrett grabbed a fistful of curtain and drew it back, making a screeching sound of metal against metal on the rod.
“Hey,” Matthias called out, stopping Garrett in midflight. “Handle the police.”
Garrett glanced at her. “I’d much rather have that job. Much easier.”
Then he was gone, but not before he zipped the curtain back in place. There was not much privacy. Every few minutes a voice would come over the loudspeaker, calling out some doctor’s name. Bells kept dinging and she could hear the mumbled voices of the people in the next waiting area. But there, enclosed in the circle of the curtain and standing tight up against the bed, right next to Matthias, it did feel like just the two of them.
She looked at their joined hands. “Are you going to handle me, Matthias?”
Silence stretched out. He didn’t move, so she glanced up to make sure he was still awake and hadn’t slipped back into that glassy-eyed expression he’d had right after she told him about being shot.
But there was nothing clouded about his vision. He sat there, half slumped over and holding his bandage, but he did not blink. “We used the cover story because if we don’t they’ll investigate you. You’ll become the story. Your past will be splashed all over the press again.”
For her. He was doing this all for her. “That’s not—”
“Suspected killer found in Annapolis.” His deep voice rang out with that horrible potential headline. “You won’t be able to move. It will all be brought out again.”
The words sliced through her. She doubted there would ever be a day when they didn’t. So much senseless loss. She owned her part in it. She accepted that guilt, but she wouldn’t accept all of it. “I didn’t kill them.”
His hand tightened on his shoulder and he leaned forward until his face loomed right in front of hers. “I. Know. That.”
She had to touch him then. Slid her hand over his cheek and felt the warmth of his skin. Her fingers lingered. She would have dropped her arm again, but he turned his head and kissed her palm.
“Why did you tell me about Nick now?” Looking back, running every line and every conversation, she realized he’d made a choice she might not have made in his position. He could have ridden this out. Enjoyed the sex and then left town, never divulging his tie to her past. But he didn’t and she needed to understand why.
“Because you deserved to know.” He moved their joined hands to his thigh and held them there. “And because I want you to trust me.”
He made it sound so simple, but in reality, he was asking for the nearly impossible. “You’re asking
a lot.”
“Give me a chance.”
Forget the warnings flashing through her brain. That was exactly what she planned to do. “I never said I wouldn’t.”
Matthias’s muscles screamed for rest. They’d talked with the police and been to the hospital. It had taken hours and led to so many phone calls. Wren had checked in. He and Garrett had talked and Matthias listened.
The whole time, he’d ached to get back to this room, this stupid inn. There was so much he needed to tell her. They’d ended their argument on an awful note and with so much left unsaid. She’d been furious, down to the clenched fists and wash of red-hot anger in her eyes. As much as he’d like to think the bullet got him off the hook, he knew that wasn’t true.
But wading through all of that would have to wait. His body was a mass of pains and cuts. He’d refused all but over-the-counter pain relievers to treat the gunshot wound. It was more than a nick and less than a solid through-and-through. The bullet had taken a chunk of skin and that would hurt like a motherfucker for days. He’d already suffered from limited mobility. He didn’t need the added distraction of falling asleep in the middle of a gun battle, so no meds.
Kayla walked past him to the middle of the room before facing him again. “You got a cot.”
It was folded up and tucked under the window but hard to miss. “Garrett asked for it because I knew we couldn’t sleep at your place tonight. I suspected you wouldn’t want to sleep with me. Not after . . . you know.”
Garrett nodded. “You’re welcome.”
“You should get some sleep,” she said.
Matthias hated that she didn’t brush off the offer of separate beds. He might talk tough, but the idea of lying next to her did sound good. But that’s what he wanted and he’d made a silent vow to focus on what she needed. “We both need a shower. You go first.”
She stared at him for a second then nodded. Without a word, she grabbed some clothes out of the chest of drawers and headed for the bathroom.
“Are you really okay?” Garrett asked after the door clicked shut.
“Shoulder stings. The knock to the head was worse. I’m not even sure when that happened.” It felt like an all-star team had been playing basketball up there. Pain shot through him every time he turned his head, and the light hurt. He guessed by tomorrow the shoulder would start thumping and make the headache seem like no big deal.
The Enforcer Page 17