“The deuce with work.” His voice was a low growl as he drew her close, the tender look in his eyes evidence of his regret over disrupting their evening. “The derelicts will still be there after I walk you home.” He wove his fingers into her hair, cupping her face. “I’m sorry, Al. I’d much rather be eating oysters with you than hiding out in an alley that smells like a sewer, and with Flynn, no less, who doesn’t smell much better.” His gaze turned smoky while he bent to nuzzle her ear, infusing her tired body with a fresh rush of adrenaline. “And nothing like you,” he whispered, lips grazing her neck with kisses that left her as limp as the coat in her hand.
She eased him away, her breathing as ragged as her pulse. “Don’t you dare make me regret going home by myself to read a book, Nick Barone,” she whispered.
The deadly smile that slid across his lips told her he knew exactly how his kisses affected her. “Why not?” he said, voice husky. His thumb fondled a curl before it moved to graze the soft flesh of her ear. “Thinking of you doesn’t exactly make it easy being in an alley with Flynn.”
“Oh, turnabout is fair play, is it?” She darted from his hold.
His mouth crooked as he snatched the coat from her hand, promptly helping her to slip it on. “You bet, Princess, especially if you force me to ride the cable car the whole way.”
“And risk resurrecting Mr. Cranky Pants?” She hooked her arm through his. “No, thank you.” Her voice gentled. “Look, Nick, I don’t want you to be late or sick. You can just safely see me to the cable car at Montgomery and Jackson, and I’ll be fine, truly.”
“Not a chance.” Dousing the lights in the gym, he ushered her out the front door, lips compressed in a flat smile. “Never thought I’d say this, but you are well worth the indigestion.”
“Why, thank you, Mr. Barone.” She wrinkled her nose in afterthought. “You did mean to imply the cable car gives you indigestion, not me, correct?”
“No comment,” he said with an off-center grin, locking the door behind before he escorted her to the sidewalk.
The street was shrouded in darkness except for intermittent streetlamps that lent a garish glow, and Alli found herself sidling closer to Nick. Raucous laughter and rowdy singing could be heard from various bars where the tinny music of gramophones drifted overhead like the sweet and musty haze she now knew to be opium. A bare sliver of moon hung in an inky sky as ominous as the leering shadows that milled and loitered in streets and alleyways.
A shiver skittered Alli’s spine and she clutched Nick’s arm all the more. The bright lights from seedy dance halls and taverns blocks away were almost a comfort compared to the gloom of alleys rife with rats and refuse and evil that lurked and threatened. “It all seems so different this late at night,” she whispered, heart thudding as she peered at ramshackle bars and buildings out of the corner of her eye. Gaze straight ahead, she was afraid to make eye contact with inebriated men who whistled and called out lewd remarks as she and Nick passed by. “So very . . . ,” Alli swallowed hard, “dangerous and forbidding.”
———
Nick exhaled a weary breath, eyes scanning the street as he tightened his hold. “It is dangerous and forbidding, Alli, which is why I was so angry when you talked about walking to the cable car alone. This is no place for a man to walk by himself, much less a woman. Thousands of men have been shanghaied here—drugged, beaten, kidnapped—only to awaken aboard a ship halfway to China where they’re forced to work for years at a time. Even my partner and I seldom work this beat alone—it’s just too dangerous after dark.”
Nick’s pace slowed at the sight of two rough-looking characters weaving toward them in rumpled suits far too nice for this neighborhood, setting his nerves on edge. One of the men spoke, his words a slur as he flashed a grin of crooked teeth that made the jagged scar across his cheek all the more noticeable. “Say, mister, can you spare some change to buy a gent a drink?”
“I’d say you’ve had more than enough,” Nick said, his voice dangerously low. He felt Allison shudder beneath his grip while he stared the two jackals down. A nerve twittered in his cheek. “I suggest you boys head home and get some sleep.”
Their menacing laughter heightened the uneasy feeling in his gut, polluting the air as much as the foul stench of whiskey on their breath. The eyes of the man who’d addressed them almost glittered in a craggy face that resembled the toughest of leather. “Is that so?” he muttered, his words slurred and slow as he eased a hand inside his suit jacket. Nick heard Alli gasp when a long-bladed knife glinted as steely as his gaze in the dim light of the streetlamp overhead. “Now is that any way to treat a friend of Aiden Maloney?”
Nick sucked in a harsh breath, body stiffening at the sound of that name. With lightning reflex, he shoved Allison behind him and stabbed a hand inside his jacket to reach for his gun.
“Uh-uh-uh . . . wouldn’t do that if I were you, mister,” the second man said with a cackle, allowing a double-barreled sawed-off shotgun to peek from beneath his coat. “Willie—frisk him real good because this here boy is our bread and butter.”
“Sure thing, Milt.”
“What do you want?” Nick said, although he already knew. His jaw hardened to rock as the thug patted him down, grinning like a demon when he relieved him of his Smith & Wesson. The lowlife promptly tucked it into his trousers. Alli sobbed, but Nick ignored her, gaze fused on the garbage before him.
Milt let loose another unholy laugh, motioning his head toward the alley beyond. “A little insurance, Mr. Barone, and a great big bonus from the boss for Willie and me. Now you and your lady move real slow towards that alley there.”
“Leave her out of this,” Nick said, his voice a hiss. Willie moved to the side and Nick could feel the shiver of Alli’s body as she clutched him from behind.
“Now you know as well as I do, Mister Barone, that we cain’t do that, not unless we gouge those pretty eyes out of her head.”
Alli screamed and Willie instantly yanked her away, silencing her with a hard slap across her cheek. She buckled to her knees before he jerked her back up with a knife beneath her chin.
Nick’s heart pumped in his throat at the look of terror in her eyes. He started to lunge, then froze at the cock of Milt’s gun.
“Now, unless you want to see ol’ Willie here draw blood from that pretty little neck of hers right here in the street, I suggest you two mosey on over to that alley real quiet like.”
Nick sucked in a deep swallow of air, forcing his nerves to employ the calming techniques he’d learned from Ito Akira. Easy does it, Barone. His gaze fixed on Alli’s, silently willing her to do the same. “Do as they say, Allison—this is just an exercise in patience,” he said carefully, praying she’d pick up on his clues regarding the fourth defense exercise she’d learned. “Take four deep breaths and you’ll feel calm by the time we reach the alley, understand?”
Her nod was shaky as she stared back, eyes saucers of fear. Willie goaded her forward while Milt butted Nick from behind with the barrel of the shotgun, causing sweat to bead at the back of his neck. “Whatever Maloney’s paying you,” he said, hoping to keep Milt talking, “I’ll double it. You can’t pass up a sweet deal like that.”
“Sure I can, mister—nobody double-crosses Mr. Maloney and lives to talk about it, something you’re about to learn real good, ain’t he, Will?”
“Shore thing,” Willie said with an ugly laugh. “Besides, we cain’t sample this sweet piece of sugar if we let her go, now can we, darlin’?” Rage boiled through Nick’s body when Willie plucked several of the buttons off Alli’s blouse with the tip of his knife.
Desperate to remain calm, Nick forced his breathing to slow, voice as relaxed as if they were taking a stroll down Market Street at noon. “I’ll triple your take, Milt, and you and Willie can start over somewhere.” His heart hammered as Alli neared the alley, not ten feet away. “I’ll even bet Allison’s family will match it, won’t they, Allison. Go on, tell Willie . . . Now!”
Nick held his breath. In a surreal flash of motion that took only mere seconds, Allison executed a push-slide with near-perfect precision, just like Nick had taught her. She struck Willie’s elbow so fast, he grunted when she thrust his arm in the direction of the knife. Her body was a blur as she spun to the right, sliding her left hand beneath Willie’s forearm to thwart the attack. Two quick jabs of her right elbow, and she stomped on his foot and jerked from his grasp with a whirl. She plowed her right fist to his stomach, then left to the forearm that held the knife, clattering it to the cobblestones. Her foot to his groin doubled him over with a horrendous howl before she plucked Nick’s gun from his pants.
Nick didn’t waste any time. A heartbeat after Alli moved, he went into action with a spin to the left, escaping the line of fire. He jerked Milt’s sleeve down hard, locking him in a rear choke that cut the air from the man’s throat. With a strain of biceps, Nick obstructed his blood flow in a crushing squeeze until Milt dropped to the pavement like a sack of dung, out cold for several precious seconds. Nick lunged for the shotgun, stomach plunging when Willie wrenched Nick’s gun from Alli’s hand at very the same time. Eyes wild, Willie locked her in a chokehold while leveling the gun at Nick. “You best drop that shotgun right now, mister, or I’ll squeeze the life out of this pretty little thing while I blow a hole right through you.”
“Number six,” Nick rasped, and in one violent throb of his pulse, Alli jerked Willie’s arm down and head butted him before digging her chin into the crook of his arm. Slashing her right foot back, she trapped his, calf to calf, whirling 180 degrees to slam him flat on his back.
“Halt!” Nick shouted, but Willie lunged for the gun anyway, rolling on his back to take aim with a gleam in his eyes.
Kaboom! Alli’s scream merged with the deafening roar of Nick’s shot, the gleam in Willie’s eyes fading with a blast that rolled him against the wall.
“Nick!”
He spun around, heart in his throat at the glint of a knife in Milt’s upraised arm. “Alli—drop!” he shouted, pumping a round into Milt that launched him several feet in the air before both he and the knife sank to the ground in a bloody heap.
Nick’s eyes shuddered closed. He barely heared the sound of Alli’s weeping for the roar of blood in his ears. God forgive me . . .
Hurling the gun away, he dropped to his knees and swallowed Alli up, stroking her hair while she wept in his arms. “It’s over, Alli.” He rocked her slowly there on the dirty cobblestones now splattered with blood. Tears stung his eyes as he thought of how close he’d come to losing her . . . to losing their lives together. “Shhh . . . it’s going to be okay,” he whispered, “you’re safe now.” But his words buzzed hollow in his ears along with the sudden wailing of dogs and the faraway clang of the cable car, because deep down inside he knew it was a lie. It would never be okay again, not until he avenged his uncle and parents. And until he did, Alli would never be safe—not with him. Not now. His eyes trailed into a cold stare while her body shuddered in his arms.
Maybe not ever.
25
How is she?”
Caitlyn jolted at the sound of Logan’s voice, suddenly aware she’d been standing in the parlour doorway in a trance, body sagging against the Corinthian pillar beneath the wide, arched entryway. “What?” she whispered, legs shaky as she all but staggered across the room. Logan met her halfway and ushered her to the couch, and she immediately collapsed in his arms, clutching him tightly while she wept against his chest. “It’s a-all m-my f-fault,” she whispered, painful heaves stuttering her words.
Gentle fingers kneaded her back. “It’s not, Cait,” he whispered, the crush of his arms cocooning her in a place where she felt safe and warm. “It’s simply life, with all its frailties. Allison is a far better, far stronger person for teaching at your school and so are you and every child privileged to attend.”
“B-but . . . it’s so dangerous there . . .”
“Life is dangerous,” he said, drawing away to cradle her face in his hands. “Whether you’re run over by a cable car on Nob Hill or trampled by a horse on the Barbary Coast. We can’t live in fear of what each day may bring and we can’t let fear stop us from doing the right thing.” He grazed her jaw with his thumb. “You taught me that, Mrs. McClare.”
“But it’s no place for a school,” she said, her voice nasal from grief over what had happened to Alli. “You tried to tell me that, and I wouldn’t listen . . .”
His lip quirked. “True.” He lifted her chin, the humor in his eyes giving way to a sobriety that quickened her pulse. “But that’s only one of the many reasons I love you, Cait. Your fierce independence, your zeal for justice, and your beautiful heart of compassion. Which, much as I hate to admit, makes the location for the Hand of Hope School perfect.”
“Not if it puts those I love in danger.”
He cocked a brow. “So we take precautions. We hire a full-time handyman/guard to assist Mr. Bigley year-round, not just for a few months. We have Allison teach you and the others a few basic maneuvers in self-defense. And then we put our foot down with Allison, further restricting her working at the school past five or taking the cable car on her own.”
Her lips wobbled into a faint smile. “We?” she whispered, not wanting to burden Logan further but painfully aware he was becoming more and more a part of her life every day—her decisions, her problems, her responsibilities.
And my heart?
He paused to study her, the potency of love she saw in his eyes making her want to weep all over again. “Yes, ‘we,’ ” he whispered, trailing several fingers along the line of her jaw. “We’re a team, Cait, you and I. We may not be a ‘couple’ in the true sense of the word, but we are two people in love with the same family, nonetheless. Which means your family is my family, and I will support and protect you—and it—until I take my last breath.”
Her heart swooped when he leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek. The warmth of his lips on her skin caused her belly to quiver as tears misted her eyes. He pulled away and immediately she felt bereft of his touch despite the heat of his palms as they briskly rubbed her arms. “Is Alli in bed?” he asked, his businesslike tone surprising her, as did his behavior of late. Over the last few months, there’d been several situations where he’d held and comforted her over one family crisis after another, and yet never once had he taken advantage like he had in Napa. Not even when she’d kissed his cheek out of sheer gratitude the night he’d found Maddie. Cait suddenly realized her trust in Logan was growing, strengthening, removing the very barriers she’d constructed to keep her heart safe. Her cheeks grew warm when her renegade gaze flicked to his lips before she could stop it, and she swallowed hard, remembering all too clearly that offensive kiss in Napa. Offensive for one reason and one reason only—it had stirred her body far too quickly, making her want him far too much. Like now . . .
“Cait?”
She blinked, her gaze colliding with his and instantly her cheeks burned at what she saw in his probing stare. He knows! Knows I depend on him, need him . . . want him.
“Y-yes?”
There was a hint of a twinkle in those gray eyes and a tenderness that put her at ease. “I asked if Alli was in bed.”
Cait buffed her arms, self-conscious over the fluttery way Logan was beginning to make her feel. “Yes, of course,” she said quickly. “She seemed very upset and so did Nick, which leads me to believe they didn’t tell us everything that happened.”
A grunt rolled from Logan’s lips. “An obvious character flaw when it comes to Barone, if you ask me, especially given how he bolted out of here before we could question him further.”
“He said he was late for work, Logan,” Cait defended, uncomfortable as always when Logan attacked Nick.
“Yes, well, that’s a conversation for another day.” He folded his arms and peered up, brows in a scrunch. “Did Alli shed any more light on what happened when you talked to her upstairs? Like how she got that bruise on her cheek?”<
br />
The malaise that had numbed Caitlyn from the moment Alli walked in the door returned in force, sagging her shoulders. “No, just that one of the attackers pushed her down. I’m just so grateful Nick was with her . . .” She hesitated. “Although Alli said something odd when she was trying to assure me it was an isolated case of two disgruntled vagrants asking for a handout.”
“And what was that?”
Cait looked up, a pucker at the bridge of her nose. “She said one of the men mentioned another man’s name, almost as if he expected Nick to know him. But Nick assured her it was ‘nothing more than two drunks with a grievance.’ ” A shiver scurried down her spine. “But a grievance to me implies it might have been against Nick, which is a worry unto itself.”
Logan’s mouth thinned. “I’ll tell you what, Cait—that man has skeletons in his closet, you mark my words, and I hope to prove it before Alli gets too serious.”
“I hope you’re wrong,” she whispered, her respect and affection for Nick making it hard to believe the man would ever hurt her daughter. “I think she’s falling in love with him.”
“Trust me, I wish I were wrong for Alli’s sake, but my source leads me to believe otherwise.” His exhale was heavy. “But I’ll wait for confirmation before I tell her.”
Caitlyn released a mournful sigh, tears threatening all over again. “Oh, Logan—I’m not sure she can stand another heartbreak.” She shuddered, prompting him to tug her back to the safety of his arms. “Nor can I.” A fragile exhale feathered her lips while he gently stroked her hair.
“Don’t worry,” he whispered, “I plan to do everything in my power to prevent the risk of heartbreak for both you and Alli, so hopefully neither of you has to ever go through it again.”
The risk of heartbreak, yes. A very real worry for a daughter who appeared to have already given her heart away.
And her mother? Cait’s eyes weighted closed.
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