by Stark, Cindy
“Sure.” He smiled again, slight dimples showing in his cheeks. “I’ll see you later.”
But would he? She wouldn’t be around for too long, and chances were, he wouldn’t be back before then. “Goodnight, then.” She could feel two sets of male eyes boring into her back as she left.
“How come I never get the cute ones?” Christian said as she walked away.
“Shut up,” Sam replied.
She stopped at her door, waiting to see what they’d do or if they’d say anything else she could hear, but they seemed to have gone out on the patio.
Whatever. They could talk about anything they pleased. In all reality, it was none of her business. She went into her room, grateful to find that the door had a lock on it. As an extra precaution, she pushed a chair up against it.
She was pretty sure Paul wouldn’t find her that night, and she felt safe enough in Sam’s care. Nicole and Xander had trusted him without concern. But having an extra barrier against the outside world felt right.
She climbed on the wonderfully soft bed, pulling the buttery sheets up to her neck, and turned off the bedside lamp. The blanket of night fell around her, and the darkness coaxed her memories to the surface. She filled her lungs and let the air slowly ease out.
She’d nearly killed a man tonight. Knowing that she could have, iced her soul. She supposed most people would do the same in her situation, but coming that close, was a horrifying experience.
When she got settled in Texas, perhaps therapy would be in order.
Chapter Seven
Sam had barely taken his seat on the patio when he received a call from Hunter that he was pulling in the drive, and he wanted Sam to disarm the security system and unbolt the front door.
“Grab some beers while you’re in there,” Christian said as Sam headed back inside.
He returned a minute later with Hunter carrying a six pack and a large pizza box. “Hungry,” Hunter announced as he sat down.
Sam wasn’t sure if Hunter was telling them he was hungry, or if he was inviting them to share his snack if they were. Didn’t matter. The guys were like brothers and could therefore infringe upon just about anything except each other’s women.
“How’s she doing?” Hunter asked as he twisted the cap off a bottle of beer.
“She’s alright,” Sam answered.
Christian chuckled as he helped himself to a slice of pizza loaded with toppings. “She’s more than alright. She’s damn fine if you ask me.”
Sam leveled a hard stare at his friend. “Do I need to remind you she’s been through hell tonight? You don’t need to talk about her like that.”
Christian shared a look with Hunter that implied Sam was overreacting. Sam wanted to say he didn’t appreciate the look, but that would earn him even more speculating. Christian turned his gaze to Sam. “Sorry. It’s not like I would have talked about her like that to her face.”
“That makes bad behavior okay?”
This time Hunter raised a brow at him. “Is she that hot?”
“She was at the wedding tonight,” Christian answered for him. “Sexy blonde wearing a killer purple dress. One of Nicole’s friends.”
Hunter’s mouth tilted in a rarely seen smile. “Oh, I remember her. Shy smile, nice boobs.”
Fuck. “She’s a client. That’s all. She got the hell beat out of her tonight before she tried to kill her attacker. I think she deserves some respect.” He eyed them. “How about we figure out our next moves instead of her anatomy?”
The guys both shared another look, and Christian nodded his head in an I-told-you-so gesture.
Sam opened the pizza box and ignored them. He wasn’t playing their games any longer. The more he argued against the accusation, the more they’d keep at him. The scent of peppers, onions and sausage attacked his senses, making him salivate, and he turned his attention to the pizza instead. He’d eaten a nice meal at Xander and Nicole’s wedding, but that had been hours ago…seemed like days ago. “I’d like to go after Paul Castell,” he said around a huge bite of cheese and crust. “He’s the same one I mentioned at the wedding.”
Christian nodded. “I agree.”
“Won’t the legal system pursue that avenue?” Hunter asked. “They’ve got cause and evidence. From what Xander told me, this abuse has been ongoing and is well-documented.”
“He deals drugs, but I’m not sure how big his operation is. We could go after that aspect.” Why were his guys fighting him on this?
“Again, won’t the police handle it? Hunter took a bite of pizza. “You know I like to keep our activities to ones that fall outside the law,” he said around a mouthful.
“He’s got a point,” Christian added. “Even though she’s hot.”
Sam glared at him. “She’s got nowhere to go and a ruthless man who will be hunting her. She’s Xander and Nicole’s friend, and I think she deserves our help.” He took a swig of beer. “I’m not putting her back on the street.”
“Fine. Give her a safe place to stay until Castell goes to jail. But you’re going to have to work this on your own.”
“I’ve got your back,” Christian offered.
Sam nodded his thanks.
“Okay, then,” Hunter replied. “You know Xander will be unreachable for a couple of weeks while he’s on his honeymoon, and I’m going to be out of town for a few days. Ryan’s available if you want to send her to the coast. He’s following up with information on Georgio Donati, but I’m sure Ms. Singleton would be fine. No one would locate her there.”
“You’re leaving town?” Sam asked Hunter. Not that he needed to. Hunter had been on edge since Ryan had showed him that photo of a woman looking like his long-lost love.
Hunter avoided his direct gaze. “Personal business.”
“You’re going to look for Danielle,” Sam said, hating that his friend was so tortured by this woman.
His friend focused a dark gaze on Sam, but didn’t answer. There was no point in arguing. Hunter, himself, had said she was dead, yet he stilled looked. There had to be more to the story, but Hunter wasn’t talking.
Christian fired his own warning glance at Sam. It was enough to cause him to stand down. It was a pointless argument, and all the guys knew it. Ryan knew more information than the rest of them, but he’d given Hunter some kind of oath and wasn’t much for talking about it, either.
“What do you need me to do, Sam?” Christian asked, ending the challenge. “Hang out here during the day? The fact that Christian owned a bar and therefore worked more evening hours than day fit perfectly.
“That would be great. Then I don’t have to take time off work, and I can go after my leads there.” He shifted his gaze back to Hunter, and the guy nodded, approving. Not that Sam wanted his approval, but, as in any kind of relationship, there needed to be give and take. As much as Sam wanted to throw at Paul every ounce of might and brawn that he had access to, Hunter’s way made more sense.
Once all three guys agreed to their plan, the tension between them eased. Sam grabbed another slice of pizza and sat back, covertly studying Hunter as their conversation turned toward the Duck’s latest baseball game. One of these days, he’d discover what really happened and figure out his friend.
* * *
Janie woke the next morning, surprised to find she’d slept so well. It had been far too long since she’d had a quiet, safe place to sleep. At the apartment she’d shared with Paul, it wasn’t uncommon for visitors to arrive in the dead of night during the past few months. She’d never answered the door. Never asked who’d stopped by or what they’d wanted.
After climbing out of bed, she eyed the luxurious tub, but opted for a shower instead. Her life had completely flipped on its head, and she was anxious to see what the day would bring. For the first time in forever, she only had one thing on her to-do list. Call about the job in Texas. Other than that, she had a free day ahead of her, and no idea what to do.
The house was quiet as she slipped out of her bedroom. She
wondered if Sam might still be asleep even though it was well past ten. But his bedroom door was open as she passed, the sheets thrown haphazardly back into place.
In the kitchen, she found Christian pressing down the lever on the toaster. He glanced up as she walked in. “Morning.” He wore nothing but a pair of gray flannel pants, and she found herself staring at his nice display of abs and biceps. An interesting tattoo covered his left pec.
She blinked, trying to pretend she hadn’t been staring. “Morning.”
He grinned, his white teeth enhancing his friendly smile. He obviously didn’t seem to mind her perusal. “Sam doesn’t have too much in the house, so breakfast will be kind of sparse. I brought a few groceries with me last night, and Sam will get more today. There’s some bread if you want toast. Coffee’s over there.” He nodded to the coffeemaker near the sink.
“Is it okay if I check out the fridge?”
“Help yourself to whatever you can find.” The toast popped. He grabbed the slices and dropped them on a plate.
“Where’s Sam?” she asked as she opened the refrigerator door.
“Work.”
She shifted her gaze to him, surprised at the answer. Maybe not surprised, after all people had jobs, but she’d honestly expected him to be there that morning. “All day?”
“More than likely. But don’t worry. I’m here for protection.”
He did have a lot of muscles, but she wasn’t sure how much protection that would give her if Paul sent a bullet sailing her way. “Are you a cop?”
“Nope.” He set a knife sticky with butter and jam on the counter and headed toward the table where his coffee waited.
“Then what makes you qualified to protect me? Not that I’m saying you couldn’t. Just that…” She stopped before she insulted the man any further.
“I’m a black belt, expert marksman.” He halted long enough to lick red jam off his thumb. “Trust me. If someone comes through that door, he’ll regret it.”
She supposed she had to believe that was true. She turned back to the fridge. “Is it okay if I cook?”
Christian snorted. “Okay? Hell yeah, it’s okay.”
She smiled. “Good. I like to dabble with it sometimes. You’ll make a great guinea pig.”
He frowned then. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
She pulled out a carton of eggs along with a jug of milk. “I don’t suppose Sam has any Grand Marnier, does he?”
Christian shrugged. “I’ll check the liquor cupboard.” He returned a few minutes later with a bottle and a smile on his face. “Whatcha going to make?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.”
She cracked eggs, added ingredients and whisked while Christian watched with fascination.
“You seem to know what you’re doing,” he said, now sitting at a barstool on the other side of the counter. He’d brought his coffee with him, but left his toast to cool on the table now that there was the prospect of something more satisfying.
She grinned. “I’m a sous chef at the Italian restaurant on Tenth Avenue.” She paused, realizing she could no longer return to work. She was scheduled for that evening, and she’d need to call them and let them know she wouldn’t be back.
He chuckled. “Lucky us. I’d offer you a job at my bar, but I’m afraid my customers wouldn’t appreciate your fine culinary talents. They’re more the popcorn and hot wings type.”
“I make an amazing hot wing sauce.”
“I’ll bet you do.”
“Where’s your bar? She found a large skillet in one of the bottom cupboards and added a slab of butter to it.
“Downtown. It’s called Caora Dubh.”
She widened her eyes. “I’ve been there. That’s where Nicole works.” Two pieces of the puzzle linked. “Of course. You’re all friends.” Why had Nicole never mentioned her relationship with these men? Then again, Janie hadn’t talked about Paul’s friends, although they were a different sort than Xander’s friends.
He nodded. “I don’t think I’ve seen you there, though. I’m sure I’d remember a pretty face like yours.”
It surprised her to find he was seriously flirting with her. “You must learn a lot of great pickup lines owning a bar.” She dipped bread in the egg mixture before laying it in a casserole dish, and then poured the rest of the mixture over it.
He laughed then. “Caught on to that, did you?”
She rolled her eyes. “That’s one of the oldest lines ever used.”
“I know. Still works sometimes.”
She shook her head, smiling. “Well, if I was looking for a guy, I’d definitely be interested.”
“But you’re not.”
She shook her head. “It might be a while.”
His demeanor quickly shifted from flirting to concerned. “I’m sorry about what happened to you. Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. It’s…” She didn’t want to go there again. Didn’t want to keep reliving the nightmare. “How about a tour of the house instead? The bread needs to soak for a few minutes before I cook it, so we’d have time.”
“Sure.” His smile was back in place. “Let me grab a shirt, and we’ll go.”
* * *
Just before noon, Sam pulled his Charger into the garage next to Christian’s classic Mustang. He’d been anxious all morning. The hours had dragged by, and he’d had a hard time focusing on his work. He’d hated to leave Janie even though he knew Christian would defend her with his life. But he’d wanted to see her, to make sure she’d made it through the night okay before he’d left. Unfortunately, he’d been the only one awake during the early hours and had left the house not long after the sun had risen.
He punched in the security code and opened the door leading into the house. The sound of laughter, male and female, greeted him along with the smell of something tantalizing. Here, he’d expected she’d be a wreck after the previous night, and instead, she was having a good time.
He followed the festive sounds and found the couple in the kitchen, sitting at the bar, their used dishes pushed away from them. The second he walked in, the jovial atmosphere disappeared. Janie looked at him with a wary gaze, Christian with a guilty one. Sam forced a smile through his inexplicable irritation.
“Glad to see you’re feeling better,” he said to Janie. Truly, he was. He just wished he’d been the one to put the smile on her face.
“Thanks to Christian. He has some amazing stories.”
Christian shrugged.
“Must be the bartender in him.” The tone of his voice had come out more sarcastic than he’d expected. Janie narrowed her gaze as Christian widened his, and Sam immediately felt like a jealous idiot. If Janie had been anyone else, he’d have been grateful to Christian for helping to ease their client’s pain. “I stopped in during my lunch. I wanted to check on you.”
“I’m okay.” From the new expression on her face, she’d been better before he’d arrived. She obviously preferred Christian’s company to his.
“Everything’s good here,” Christian added.
“Something smells good.” His stomach rumbled in agreement.
Janie and Christian both looked at each other. “Sorry, man,” Christian said. “We ate it all. You missed out, though. Janie, here, is a chef.”
“Sous chef,” she corrected.
Sam flicked his gaze to her. “Really? He gave her a hopeful look. The thought of a home-cooked meal sounded pretty damn good right now.
“I didn’t realize you’d be here to eat.” She sounded repentant, but she’d also thrown a shield between them.
“It’s not a biggie.” He hated that he was having such a hard time communicating with her. She could laugh with Christian, but held him at a cold distance.
She stood. “I need to make a phone call.”
The thought made him nervous. “Don’t tell anyone where you are.”
“I’m not irresponsible, detective. But I do need to let my old job know I won’t be coming back any
time soon. I’ll tell them I had an emergency that took me out of town, okay?”
He nodded. Damn. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d done to incur her wrath, but he was definitely incurring it.
He watched her as she headed out of the room, her hips swaying in her tight jeans. He sighed and claimed her seat.
“Geez, dude. What did you do to piss her off? Christian left his chair and took their dishes to the sink.
“I don’t know. She wanted information about our group last night, and I was a little cryptic, but I didn’t think I pissed her off that bad.”
He chuckled. “You might want to make friends with her. She’s a heck of a cook.”
“I’m trying.” He sure as hell didn’t want to be her enemy. Sam regarded his friend through a jealous haze. “You, however, seem to be hitting it off.”
“She’s nice.”
“Yeah. Nice looking, too.” He tossed the thinly veiled hint at his friend.
“Listen, man. It’s not my fault she likes me better than you.”
“You’re admitting it?”
“I’m not admitting anything.” Christian narrowed his gaze. “What’s wrong with you? You’re acting like a jealous bitch.”
God. He was. “I don’t know.” He leaned forward on the counter. “I feel protective of her. I can’t explain it.”
“We all do. We all want what’s best for the innocent. You can’t let her get to you.”
“You’re right. I need to remember she’s just a job.” He knew from his years in the police force that an officer who became emotionally involved in his cases was subject to losing his edge. If it happened often, loss of the officer’s sanity became an issue.
He grabbed his keys off the counter, his irritation concealed. “Since you ate all the good food and since Janie seems to be doing well, I’ll grab something on the way back to the precinct.”
Christian nodded. “Don’t forget groceries on your way home. If she’s willing to cook for me, I don’t want to miss out on the opportunity.”