“I want them. I want to know why they were there, who hired them, and what the hell they planned to do with her.”
“Miah, man, calm down and take a deep breath, bro. She’s safe, for now, and asleep in your bed just where you wanted her, man. Not bad for one night’s worth of effort, if you ask me,” Jace quips, losing his smirk when all I do is glare at his immature ass.
What he’s saying is true and it doesn’t escape me how good I feel knowing that she’s exactly where I want her to be. But I hate having this happen now.
I wanted to take her out on a date and romance her a little before bringing out the big guns. It would also have been nice to have the chance to see if she would relent and accept the date I had planned or if she’d force me to bring Ma into this.
All the lightheartedness I had anticipated is dead and fucking buried now that this has happened, and I will never know if Clari would have chosen me or if I’ll get her in the end because of her fear.
Not that I’ll let her go home now anyway, not with the thought of some asshole coming after her, but it would have been nice to do the whole song and dance before things got serious.
“We need to look into all this shit and find out what’s what, so stop making jokes, funny man, and get with it. The way I see it is there are three angles to look at. It could have been one of the cops in my unit, a Lane or a Conrad, or that bum fuck ex of hers who, according to Ellie, is still sniffing around and wants her back.”
Right now, they’d all better pray that it’s the ex who needs to die, because if it ain’t, and I discover that one of my own, cop or blood, is after my girl, I’ll use every skill I learned in the military to make them suffer a cruel and unusual death.
“I’ll look at the family angle since I’ve been watching them, anyway. Jace, you take the asshole ex, and Roman and Miah can look at the cop angle since it’ll be easier for them to ferret out information.”
Easier how? I’m not entirely sure that I’m capable of being unbiased or rational around those men if I’m carrying the suspicion around that one of them is involved in what happened tonight.
“You saw that window seat? I’ll be damned if I know how that poor girl fit in that little box,” Jace says, shaking his head in disgust.
All I can do is nod when the rage threatens to overwhelm me again. I know exactly how she fit in there, and it’s not helping me to realize that she shoved herself in that hole out of sheer desperation and pure terror.
I’ve also listened to the 9-1-1 call and just hearing her voice, the way she’d only just managed to choke out a whisper that was barely discernible, and the frightened tremor that made her words hard to decipher is enough to drive me nuts.
My girl, a woman who I’d left with a bemused smile on her face, had bent herself double and crawled into a box just big enough for a child to fit into because someone had invaded her home and her space and scared her to death.
They will pay, whoever was involved.
By the time we all head off to bed and I’m dragging ass up the staircase, I’m feeling a little better. For now, I focus on the tiny lump sleeping soundly beneath the bedcovers as I strip down to my boxers and crawl in behind her to take her in my arms.
She sighs and snuggles closer. If I can take nothing from any of this but the fact that my presence seems to calm her and make her feel safe, it’ll be enough for now.
With that in mind, I finally allow my eyes to close and just enjoy the warm weight of Clari in my arms. Tomorrow is soon enough to go hunting.
“Miah.”
“Shh, sleep, babe. I’m right here.”
***
Clari
The first thing I feel upon waking is heat and a weight over my thighs that pins me to the bed. I can’t move a muscle, but who the heck cares, I think, stretching languidly with a smile and a satisfied groan for the rested feeling I have for the first time in a long while.
I’m not usually a heavy sleeper, but after that horse tranquilizer Jude shoved down my throat and the feel of strong arms wrapping around me at some point in the night, I’ve had at least a full eight hours of peaceful rest.
My eyes finally pop open and I see Miah staring down at me with an indecipherable expression on his handsome face.
“Talk to me, little bird.”
I know exactly what he wants to talk about and why he’s not too impressed with me right now. I can’t tell you that I’m impressed with me right now, either. Bu for different reasons, obviously.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Let’s start with why you decided not to call anyone after you were almost attacked in your bed,” he says and I realize my mistake immediately.
Miah is not one of those guys who just shows anger and blusters all over the place. He’s one of those reasonable men who simmer beneath the surface and wait for an explanation.
That’s worse because it makes me aware that my answer is super important and likely to send him into a fit of rage that I really do not want to see.
“I wanted to call you, and I was going to, I swear.”
“But…”
“But then I started thinking about how I just started living by myself and, that I should be able to handle myself better than calling someone at the first signs of trouble, and I kind of convinced myself that I was strong enough to do it alone without having a meltdown,” I confess, feeling terrible for that not being true.
Miah sighs and closes his eyes for a second as if searching for patience before looking at me intently.
“Tell me what happened. From beginning to end after I left you last night.”
What? That’s it? No shouting or name-calling or accusations? Just…this?
“Well, after you left I just sort of stood around for a while before going to my room?”
“Clari, are you asking me what you did, babe? Seriously, wake up and tell me,” he growls, pushing himself up to the headboard and reaching for a smoke.
“Gross.”
“It’s not to smoke, it’s just a habit from way back when. Talk.”
A deep breath doesn’t go far in settling my nerves, because as soon as I have to think about it, all I want to do is crawl out of my skin. See, this is me being me, and it turns out I’m not a cool, super ninja at all.
Guess I’ll have to revise my resume.
“I had a quick bath and got changed for bed,” I say, shrugging. “I went to sleep pretty easily, considering your parting shot, I think. I don’t know, Miah, I just went…went to sleep and woke up knowing that someone was outside. When I heard the…”
This is the part where I want to hyperventilate, because it feels like I’m still there in my bed, alone and cognisant of the fact that I’m about to be harmed.
“Shh, breathe, Clari,” he croons, pulling me over and onto his chest. “It’s okay, babe. You’re here with me and nothing can hurt you. Just remember that and tell me everything that happened after.”
His slow, measured breathing and the sound of his steady heartbeat have the desired effect, and I’m feeling more centered.
“I heard the window, but you know, part of me didn’t really think it was the window at all, like I wanted it not to be true. Anyway, it’s when I heard that damn figurine fall that I knew. Someone was coming in.”
“I knew that last window I looked at was beyond saving. Shit,” he snarls.
“Well, I mean part of me is glad it happened that way and they didn’t come through the door, because I wouldn’t have heard a thing otherwise. When I realized I was in trouble I grabbed my phone and started looking for a place to hide. The window seat was the only viable option, and believe me, after hearing one of them go for all the places I originally wanted to hide in, I’m just grateful I managed to get myself into that box.”
“What else?”
He sounds to calm and I wouldn’t know that he’s getting upset by his breathing or heartbeat or voice…but I somehow know that he’s angry.
“I called 9-1-1 an
d stayed where I was, barley breathing, though I swear, Miah, how they didn’t hear my heart racing is a freaking miracle. The first one stopped right beside the window and I almost peed my pants right there. I heard him say, ‘She’s not here,’ and then another guy I hadn’t known was there was saying how I had to be because my sheets were still warm and the bathtub still had some water drops in it. He would have found me if the police hadn’t arrived so quickly.”
That’s the weird part and the reason that I can’t wrap my head around things. The police got there really quickly.
“How did the cops get there so fast? Not that I’m complaining, but I live a little ways out for that kind of response.”
He shrugs and I feel his lips on my hair.
“Gonzalez drives by your place whenever he’s pulling nights. It’s a favor to me.”
“Well, that’s not weird.”
My sarcastic grumble gets me a tap to the behind before he jostles me with his shoulder.
“I want you to think now, Clari, really hard. Did you hear the second man at all before he spoke?”
“I don’t have to think about that, Miah. I know I didn’t. The first guy was kind of loud, though I don’t think I’d have heard him without the noise from the window, but I heard his footfalls real clear after, and I knew when he made his way from the living room to my door. The other guy wasn’t…he was silent. I didn’t even hear him walk up beside the first guy. Why?”
“Just wanted to get a feel for things, babe, that’s all.”
He’s lying. I don’t know how I know it, but I know. I’m too exhausted to dig deeper right now, so I stay silent and look around.
His bedroom is huge and I feel my face heat at the knowledge that my house was no bigger than this place from start to finish. And that’s without counting the en-suite bathroom or the closet I spy to the left.
Miah is rich. I knew it before but actually being here and getting a look at his space is different. This view of his closet so perfectly organized and full enough of designer wear tells me that he’s got his own money, not just family money, and I am so out of my league, it’s laughable.
“What? What’s wrong?” he demands, and I realize I’ve tensed and made a mewling noise.
I don’t want him to be out of my league.
“Nothing. Uh, just…I should get up and go home. I need to get ready for work,” I mumble, rolling to the edge of the bed with a groan.
I pause before getting to my feet and close my eyes in horror when I get a look at what I’m wearing. The same tank I didn’t want two intruders to see and a pair of panties I wouldn’t put in a rubbish heap. No, this specimen deserves burning straight up.
“Clari?”
“Er, I need to get up, but I’m not exactly presentable.”
“Woman, I undressed you after you passed out last night. I already know you sleep in a pair of old panties and a tank that should be illegal. Now stop messing around and go shower before I do something dumb like try to take you in that vulnerable state,” he growls.
I sit dead still for all of three seconds before I feel the bed move as if he’s lost patience.
My sprint to the bathroom is not graceful, and I hear him laughing all the way to the shower and halfway through my shampooing process.
I’m so glad to be here, safe and unharmed, that I don’t quite freak out when he comes into the shower a few minutes later and starts scrubbing himself.
My shriek is muffled when my tongue rolls down the back of my throat and I have to struggle to keep my eyeballs in their sockets.
Miah Lane is not just built like a model, the man has a crapload of tattoos covering the entire left side of his back and shoulder before dipping down his hip to his…holy mother of God.
Is that what a butt is supposed to look like? Because if it is, then Nick needs to start gyming, like, yesterday.
Don’t be a perv, Clara.
We get through it without incident, though I avoid looking at him just in case I do something horrifying, like lick him like a lollipop, or shame myself by becoming a beggar.
By the time I’m dry and my face has stopped trying to fry off from embarrassment, he’s thrown me a silky shirt and a pair of sweatpants that I have to roll a gazillion times just so they reach my ankles.
“Come on, babe. Let’s go eat and get you something decent to wear. Oh, and by the way, I told Jared to send that package back to your fucktard ex. You either buy your own stuff or let Ma take care of that shit, but you won’t be wearing anything another man provides. Please.”
“I was planning to send it back today, so thanks for that. And no, I don’t need your mom getting me clothes. I can buy my own, thanks.”
“Good. Let’s go.”
I guess that he’s more reasonable than I thought. The man is way too perfect for the newly emerged independent Clara.
Chapter Seven
Clara
The school day is terrible from start to finish, and by the time my pupils run screaming from like class in glee, I’m so relieved that Miah will be by to pick me up soon.
I’ve been jumpy all day, and almost had a coronary when one of the sixth graders set off a cherry bomb in the bathroom. Talk about paranoid. I almost took the poor kid’s head off, I yelled at him so loudly. To top it all off, half the staff room was abuzz with my ordeal and were being nosy about it.
“You ready, Clari?”
I look up and smile when I see Miah leaning against the doorjamb with his arms and ankles crossed, his eyes all hot on me as if I’m wearing something sexy as opposed to the drab brown skirt that I wear on Tuesdays, and the button-up blouse that matches.
“Yup, just let me grab my purse.”
“That ugly shit has got to go,” he says once I’ve closed my door and we’re making our way out of the school.
“Hey! I thought you said—”
“I said you can wear your own clothes and get your own stuff, but babe, that stuff is just plain ugly,” he gripes, opening my door and handing me into the car.
He runs around the front and settles in beside me, his eyes raking over my ensemble with distaste.
“I happen to like this skirt.”
“No, you really can’t since I know your eyes work just fine and you can see the color.”
“What’s wrong with brown?”
“Nothing. It just looks terrible with all that fiery red hair, and your eyes look mossy instead of the emerald green I’m used to.”
That’s when I know that he’s trying to distract me, and the knowledge does not sit well at the moment.
And okay, maybe I’m a little offended that he thinks I look bad today. If he hated the clothes so much, he should have said something about it before I walked out of the house this morning—my house, since he was gracious enough to take me home and look at the place while I got dressed.
“What happened? What did you find out today? And no, if you’re thinking about lying to me, you may as well save your breath. I lived with an alcoholic for eighteen years, I can spot a lie a mile away,” I warn, turning to him and folding my arms over my chest.
He sighs and runs a hand through his hair in frustration before casting me a quick glance and taking the turn towards his house.
“Jared took a look at the soil outside your windows and found some shoe imprints along with what looks to be military- or police-issue boots. It’s either the cops who traipsed all over the place and compromised the scene, or…”
“Or what, Miah? Spit it out.”
“Or one of the assholes who broke into your house is a cop or military. The thing is, this may be my fault,” he admits.
He’s white-knuckling the steering wheel at this point, and I almost feel bad for him.
“What? How could it be your fault, Miah? It was probably just some random—”
“I’m working deep undercover to investigate corruption in the unit I’m working for. About a year ago we got intel that they were running drugs and controlling things down her
e to fund a homegrown militia operating in the Greater New Orleans area. Last night’s attack could have been them trying to get back at me because I’m sure these guys must at least suspect that I’m on to their dealings by now.”
“Well, phew. That takes a load of my chest.” I finally sigh, leaning my head back into the seat.
“I tell you that some highly trained psychos are after you because of my job and you act as if it’s nothing?”
“No, I’m just glad it wasn’t Nick after I told him off the other day,” I admit, giving him a sidelong glance. “Calm down, Miah, I got out of it fine and I trust you and your brothers to handle things from here on out. What? You thought I was too stupid to have seen the way the lot of you went all hard last night? Give me a break. I work with little kids who could outsmart us all with their lies.”
He nods as if satisfied by my answer and turns his eyes back to the deserted stretch of road leading to his home.
“Why would you suspect Nick?”
“Seriously? Because I would never think to suspect a homegrown militia…and he’s been acting weird lately.”
“Weird how?”
“I don’t know, just…he’s been calling nonstop. That’s why I turned my phone off today. Oh shoot, I should probably turn it back on,” I mumble, wincing when a slew of missed calls and texts start beeping like crazy the minute the phone powers up.
“Shit, are those all from him?” he growls, almost breaking the wheel off because he’s gripping it so hard.
“Er…yeah.”
I have no less than twenty-one missed calls starting from eight in the morning and a whopping fifteen texts before he finally gave up around twelve.
“I’ll have to talk to the guy before he does something to piss me off.”
“That would be a no.”
“No?” he asks calmly, giving me a dead stare and a raised brow.
“Yes. No, you may not intimidate my ex, and no, I won’t change my mind no matter how much you scowl at me. Nick may be acting a little nuts lately, but the guy is not dangerous.”
“You sure about that, Clari?”
No, I’m not too sure about that, and that’s one of the reasons I left in the first place, but telling Miah that with the mood he’s in would just stir up a can of worms that doesn’t need stirring right now.
Miah (Lane Brothers #2) Page 5