by Rowe, Julie
“I’m not sure when I’ll be back tonight,” she continued in the same upbeat tone. “Don’t hold dinner for me.” The issue of sleeping arrangements occurred to her.
“Um, should I sleep on the couch tonight?” She glanced up and found Jim and Susan glaring at their son.
Smoke was staring at her, but he finally met his parents’ gazes before meeting hers again and saying slowly, “No.”
That was all he said. No explanation, no additional information. Must be a regional trait. She had yet to meet a talkative resident in the whole state.
“Okay.” She saluted him with her cup and was about to turn and head for the front door, but there was a flash of movement behind her and male hands slid over her hips, pulling her backward into a body larger than hers.
Adrenaline shot through her system, dumping all the confusion, frustration, and irritation she was trying to suppress straight into her bloodstream. She didn’t freeze, didn’t think, didn’t hesitate, pushing back into the man behind her, surprising him and forcing him back a step, then she turned to face him and brought her knee up as hard as she could into his groin.
He went down on a groan, first to his knees then fell onto his side.
The next second, Smoke was there, between her assailant and her, blocking the man’s access to her.
“Nathan,” Susan demanded of the man on the floor. “What did you do?”
Smoke glanced at the groaning Nathan then turned to her. “Okay?”
She focused on his face, surprised by the lack of violence there. Irritation, yes. Violence, no. “Um…yes.”
Smoke looked at her hands, and his gaze stayed there. She glanced down to see what he was looking at. Her hands were shaking. Hard.
Damn it. Kini took in a deep breath then let it out slowly. She repeated that for a couple of seconds, enough time for her to pull out of the violent, vicious emotional soup her brain was floating in.
She looked at Nathan and cleared her throat. “Who’s he?”
“My nephew,” Susan said, putting her hands on her hips. “Nate, what on Earth possessed you to grab Kini like that?”
“I thought Smoke brought a girlfriend home,” he answered through clenched teeth. He squinted at her. “Did you have to knee me so hard? I may never father children.”
She shook her head. What had he been thinking? “You shouldn’t sneak up and grab women like that.”
“Idiot,” Smoke said to his cousin. “Touch her again, and I’ll rip your arms off.”
Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at Smoke like he had three heads.
Smoke turned to Kini, gave her a visual once-over, but didn’t seem too satisfied, given the frown on his face. “Your coffee?”
She glanced at her empty hands then the floor. Her travel mug was halfway across the room, the contents of her cup sprayed all over the place.
“Oh crap, I’m so sorry.” She darted toward the sink and grabbed the dish cloth then hurried over to begin mopping up the spill.
Smoke put out a hand to stop her. “Idiot is going to clean this, not you.”
“Excuse me?” She was grateful for his support, but not letting her clean up a mess she’d made wasn’t his decision to make.
“Nate scared you.” Smoke’s voice, a deep rumble, did something to her insides. Something she didn’t want to dwell on. “Nate can clean it up.”
A glance at the idiot told her something different. “Nate doesn’t look like he’s going to be up to too much hard labor for a while, and this floor needs to be cleaned now.”
The big man frowned at her. “Then let me hel—”
“It’s fine,” she said, cutting him off and going around him. Susan tossed her a roll of paper towels while Jim guided Nathan into another room; he complained about the pain the whole way. Despite her giving Smoke a narrow-eye’d glance, he grabbed a wet cloth and wiped away more than half of the mess.
As soon as the floor was finished, she grabbed her work bag and left the house.
She’d find coffee, sanity, and security later.
Watching her drive away unsettled Smoke’s stomach. He didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Son,” his father said behind him.
Smoke turned. His dad had his arms across his chest and the time for business expression on his face—the one he wore when he had to give anyone bad news.
“Where did you sleep last night?”
“My bed.”
“Kini was in your bed.” His dad said every word like they weighed a thousand pounds each.
“Yeah.” Smoke shrugged. “But until this morning, I thought I was alone.”
“So…” His father’s voice trailed off, but Smoke could read the rest of the sentence on his father’s face. So…did you sexually assault our guest?
Why was this even a question? It was an insult to Smoke and Kini.
He crossed his arms over his own chest and asked, in a tone that was a weapon he used sparingly, “So, what?”
Whoa, why the hell was he going there with his father? It was a question his father should ask. He opened his mouth to apologize, but got interrupted.
“You slept with her?” Nate asked from behind him, his tone incredulous, as if Smoke had slept with a tank full of piranha.
“Didn’t know she was there until I woke up,” Smoke said. Again.
Nate grinned. “You’ve got balls, man.”
“Better than yours, idiot.” His cousin looked like he’d recovered enough for another ass-kicking.
“Hey, I just wanted in on that action. She’s got a great ass.”
Smoke headed for him, faster than his cousin expected because he glanced up, paled, then backpedaled right into a wall.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the idiot said, putting his palms up.
Smoke shoved his cousin’s hands away and stuck a finger in his face. “What did I say?”
Nate swallowed. “That if I touched her, you’d rip my arms off.”
Smoke smiled, showing his teeth.
“Come on, dude, that’s just creepy.”
“Leave her alone.” The words came out of Smoke’s mouth like he’d chewed them up and spit them out.
“I will,” Nate promised in a whiny voice that made Smoke’s teeth ache. “I will.”
Smoke examined his cousin and decided that while Nate was an idiot, he wasn’t suicidal.
“Smoke?” his dad asked. Not one question, but several all in one word.
“Nothing,” he answered. “I…she…” He shrugged, lifting his hands in surrender. “Nothing.”
His father grunted and went into the kitchen. The sound of the back door closing came from around the corner.
Nate hightailed it out of there, so Smoke went back into the kitchen to find his mother sitting at the table, drinking a cup of coffee, reading something off the tablet in her hand.
“What happened to the newspaper?” he asked, nodding at the tablet.
“It went digital,” she said, waving the device. She put it down and patted Smoke’s cheek. “Times are changing, son. Try to keep up.”
“Funny.”
He got up, poured a coffee for himself, and sat back down. To stare at his mother.
She glanced at him then put the tablet down. “What?”
“Kini?”
The corners of his mother’s mouth tilted up. “We offered her a place to stay while she’s in the area. She’s doing a CDC health study of the local population.”
Smoke grunted. He’d gotten a call from his army buddy River not more than a day and a half after he’d been officially discharged, offering him a job with the CDC. Some kind of investigation team.
Did the CDC do a lot of public health research or education?
“Unfortunately, some folks have refused to even talk to her. They think she’s part of some government cover-up or something equally ridiculous.”
That kind of talk could be dangerous—most folks in this part of the country didn’t like the government sticking i
ts nose into their business.
“What’s Kini’s full name?” Smoke asked.
“Kini Kerek.”
At his arched eyebrow, his mother smiled. “Her mother was Hawaiian.”
“Was?”
His mother cocked her head. “Yes, that’s how Kini put it.”
Smoke nodded then kissed his mom on the cheek. “I’m going to make a call.”
She reached out and took his face in her hands, holding him in place. “It’s good to have you home.” Though no tears were visible, her voice dripped them.
“It is good,” he said quietly, covering her hands with his. “But…”
“But what?”
It was a lot harder to say out loud than he anticipated. “I’m not…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, he couldn’t. It would be admitting defeat, and he wasn’t going there. Not ever.
“Of course you’re not,” she said so matter-of-factly it startled him. “Eight years in the army, the deaths of your son and his mother, and your injuries last year would damage anyone’s…okay meter.” She pulled her hands away then hugged him. “I’d be worried if you tried to lie and say you were fine.”
He squeezed her tight and whispered into her hair, “Can’t fool you.” She smelled of everything good in the world, coffee, bacon, and home.
She held him for another second or two then released him and dusted her hands as if she’d finished a particularly difficult task. “Do you have any plans for the next few weeks?”
“Camping and hunting in the desert.”
“Your grandfather was out there a couple of weeks ago,” she told him. “He said there were more people around, strangers, than usual.”
“I can cope. Stay out of sight.”
She snorted. “You learned how to do that when you were five years old.” She crossed her arms and scowled at him. “The army just put a polish on it.”
“Yes, ma’am.” God, he’d missed her.
He strode down the hall and into his bedroom, closing the door so his call wouldn’t be interrupted. Not that he thought his parents would, but Nate was dumb enough to try to keep talking to him. Hopefully the idiot had left the house for a while.
The man answered on the second ring. “River.”
“I’ll take the job.”
“Smoke?” River didn’t wait for confirmation. “Awesome, man. I think you’ll like work.”
“Tell me about Kini Kerek.”
“Yeah, Kini is in your neck of the woods.” River didn’t sound surprised at all. “Hang on while I bring up her file.”
Smoke could hear the soft click of keyboard strokes, then River said, “She’s a nurse and a member of the Outbreak Task Force doing a study that’s twofold. First, she’s collecting DNA samples and patient histories in order to track the incidence of diabetes and heart disease in the Native American population in Utah. The second part of it is attempting to track the incidence of infection and the development of antibodies in the same population for the hantavirus.”
That was a lot of information to collect. “Why?”
“The CDC is considering developing a vaccine for the virus. They need to know a lot more about it first though. Most important: are people acquiring an immunity to it without developing the rapid onset pneumonia it can cause? Thirty-eight percent of cases die, so it’s a damned dangerous infection.”
And now for the important question. “Does the public know what she’s doing?”
“They know about the first, but not the second.”
“Are you sure?”
The pause on the other end of the phone was a long one. “What have you heard?”
“She’s running into a sudden and solid lack of cooperation from the locals. Someone key’d her car with death threats, and she was T-boned yesterday. Right now, she looks like a very pissed off raccoon.”
“That’s not good.”
River had always been a master at understatement.
“Put me on the payroll.”
“You mean right now? Are you sure?” There was no missing the concern in River’s voice. “You just got home. Have you even seen your parents yet?”
“I saw them. They’re good.”
“Smoke, man, I appreciate the dedication, but you and I both know you need some down time.”
“Something isn’t right with her.”
River didn’t respond right away. Smoke had always liked that about the other man—he thought before he said shit. “What do you mean?”
“She’s in trouble. I don’t know what it is yet, but she looks…hunted.” He knew the expression on a human being’s face when they knew a bigger, nastier predator was after them. He’d been the predator more than once.
“Her background checks were okay. Nothing popped up.”
“Trouble,” Smoke repeated, then asked, “payroll?” Okay, it was more of a demand.
“Give me an hour or so to get it done. If you think you might have to run interference for her, I’d better get you your credentials pronto.”
“Send them to my folks’ address.”
“Will do,” River said, then paused before continuing. “You’re not in the army anymore, and we’re not cops or FBI agents, so don’t kill anyone. Okay?”
What the fuck?
“It’s Tuesday,” Smoke told him with complete seriousness. “I don’t like killing people indiscriminately on Tuesdays.”
“No?” The smart-ass sounded surprised.
“No. I save random killing for Fridays and Saturdays.”
“What about Sundays?” River asked, curiosity making his voice rise.
“Sundays, I just slap people around for the fun of it.”
“That seems a bit harsh. What do you do on Mondays?”
“I punch smart-asses in the mouth.”
“See you Monday then,” River said cheerfully before he hung up.
Chapter Three
Kini wiped sweat off her brow and walked from her second rental car to the Smoke residence. It seemed to take half an hour rather than the few seconds it actually took. Having doors slammed in your face all day took a lot of energy out of a person.
“Hello?” she called out as she closed the screen door behind herself.
Susan popped out of the kitchen. “How’d it go today?”
Kini let her shoulders droop and said with a sigh, “Two. That’s all I got. Two.”
Susan frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.” She wiped her hands on a towel slung over her shoulder. “Why don’t you grab a shower and relax. Tomorrow is a new day.”
“That’s an excellent idea,” Kini said, heading toward the bathroom.
She stood under the water for a long time, letting the heat steam eight hours of frustration, exasperation, and dissatisfaction out through her pores. Damn paranoid people. She’d run into this sort of thing before in Texas and Arkansas, but never this bad. If things didn’t improve in the next couple of days, she was going to have to ask for help from someone local, someone she could take with her.
Or she could move to a different community in a different part of the state.
That was giving up, though, and giving up wasn’t part of her world. She hadn’t backed down when her father had—
She shoved the old anger, fear, and pain away. No, she hadn’t given up when he’d destroyed their family, and she wasn’t going to start now. Two more days, then she’d strategically retreat and redirect her study to a new population.
Kini finally left the shower, toweled off, and dressed in a T-shirt and shorts. In the kitchen, Susan was preparing a salad to go with steaks grilling on the barbeque in the backyard. Kini grabbed a glass of lemonade then went out the front door to sit on the front porch, shaded by a forest of plants.
The lack of city noise was nice. Peaceful. Relaxing. With a sigh, she reclined on the deck chair and let the quiet roll over her.
Movement from up the street caught her attention. A man walked this way. Smoke. His stride was long and liquid,
with barely leashed energy. He looked around, taking in everything.
She had to admit, he sure was something sexy and scrumptious to watch.
A police car drove past him and down the street. A moment later it returned, pulling over in front of Smoke one house away. The lights weren’t flashing, so it couldn’t be a traffic stop. The man was walking, after all.
The officer got out of his car, slammed the door, and stepped onto the sidewalk in front of him.
“Well, well, look at what the cat dragged in.” She had no trouble hearing what the cop said or the sneer in his voice. “What the fuck are you doing back here?”
Smoke came to a stop a good ten feet away from the officer. “Visiting family.”
At the word “family,” the cop put his hand on his weapon. “I expect you to stay away from mine, you son of a bitch. You got that?”
Smoke remained still, silent, and stoic.
The cop shifted his weight on his feet, back and forth a couple of times. “If you so much as breathe the wrong way, I’ll haul you in for questioning.”
Smoke just watched him.
After a minute the cop muttered, “Fucking freak,” got into his car, and drove off.
Smoke didn’t move until the vehicle was out of sight.
He walked up to the house, his stride now full of power and menace. That threat hijacked her heartbeat and breathing, sending both on a hard sprint.
No. Not going to let the past drag her down into the dark depths of her nightmares. She wasn’t a skinny ten-year-old kid anymore facing a trained killer. She was an adult with training of a different sort, and she didn’t fucking bend for anyone.
She propped one foot on her other knee.
The movement pulled his attention as he reached the door, and he stopped to stare at her.
She stared back. “In trouble with the law?”
He didn’t answer; then again, he didn’t have to. His face told her no.
“I don’t know,” she said as if he’d spoken out loud. “That guy sounded like he has a hate on for you.”