by Justine Davis, Amy J. Fetzer, Katherine Garbera, Meredith Fletcher, Catherine Mann
“Okay.” He sat up and swung her off his lap and to the side.
Her mouth went slack. “That’s it? Okay?”
He glanced sideways at her with a don’t-give-a-shit blandness. “You wanted me to fight for you Thor-style?”
She’d gotten her way. She should be turning backflips. Instead the pool of blue melancholy inside her darkened to purple. “Maybe I wanted you to be a little disappointed since this is tearing me up.”
“Tearing you up inside?” His don’t-give-a-shit look shifted to pure anger. “Good. Because you’ve damn near shredded me today.”
The anger didn’t soothe her pride after all. This man confused her and she hated that. “I just meant we wouldn’t work together right now.” Her hands fell to his shoulders. “We can still be together, like this. Let’s go upstairs.”
He looked down at one of her hands on him until she slid both away. “You want to segment me off into your apartment like those toys over there. Maybe once in a while you’ll take me out for a ride in your car. Oh, and I’ll get to have sex with you, too. Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.”
Every fair and P.C. bone in her body protested at the scenario he’d painted. If the roles were reversed she would be furious—and rightly so. “That’s not what I meant.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah, right.” He hiked on his jeans. “If I just wanted sex, there are plenty of women out there who are a helluva lot less trouble than you are.”
She scooped her flight suit off the floor. “As always, you’re the king of tact.”
Josie swept her flight suit back on, yanking the zipper up with as much speed and emotion as it had been tugged down earlier. Once she finished, she looked up to find Diego watching her with narrowed eyes. Brooding came easy to him. All his emotions seemed to flow.
Diego stalked forward until they stood nose-to-nose. “You want to boot me out of your life? Fine. But first we need some things settled. Somebody’s gunning for you, Buttercup. And if my suspicions about Wagner’s crash are right, this person’s not afraid to kill. Until we find out who’s pursuing you so damned doggedly, you’re stuck with me in the workplace. As far as in bed? I’m not feeling particularly turned on at the moment.”
She wanted to argue with him. She could handle this on her own. Still, he’d put his butt on the line for her often enough and she was grateful.
A noise sounded from upstairs, stretching her taut nerves to near breaking. Diego tensed beside her.
The spare bedroom door at the top of the stairs swung wide.
“Josie?”
Diana. Josie gripped the sofa arm. Relief melted through her.
Her sister stepped from behind the door with her hand clapped over her eyes. “Are you two about finished?” She padded barefoot into the hall, gray baggy sweatsuit making her nearly indistinguishable in the dark. “If not, throw a blanket over yourselves or something because I can’t stay hidden out of the way up here any longer without a bathroom break.”
Josie climbed the stairs, Diego’s shadow stretching as he followed her. “Jesus, Diana! You scared the hell out of me—again. I’m grateful to see you and all, but I never expected you’d be here so fast.”
“I tried to announce myself, but then you two went at it so fa—”
A noise from behind gave her only enough time to spin around before—
Her bedroom door exploded open. Two masked men charged into the hall.
Guns drawn.
Chapter 17
Surprise and adrenaline jolted through Josie like a double shot of espresso strapped to a stick of dynamite.
Two men in dark clothes and ski masks charged from her bedroom, guns drawn. The sliding-glass door in the master bedroom to the garden balcony gaped open behind them.
“Stop right there.” The left-handed gunman, bulky in build, swung his weapon toward Diego, stopping him halfway up the stairs.
The right-handed attacker, lean and tall, alternated his gun from Diana to Josie and back again.
Tension coiled inside Josie, ready to spring. She took quick mental inventory of the intruders. Clothes fit snugly so as not to snag on anything, as if worn with careful planning—often. Each man carried a black automatic pistol in gloved hands, a Glock for Lefty and a Beretta for Righty.
“My jewelry box is on the dressing table. There isn’t much there, but take it,” Josie offered in steady tones, testing their motives, hoping to speed them on their way.
Righty snorted. “We don’t want to pawn any cheap rings, lady.”
“Our wallets then.” She angled down as if to get her wallet, trying to decide whether it would be wise to whip free her survival knife from her boot.
Her heart thudded in her ears. She could face dying, had in fact worked through the possibility in combat and test flights. But she could not lose another friend because of whatever mess she’d stirred with her test project. And Diego and Diana were so much more than friends to her.
Diego’s shadow stretched up the steps.
“No farther up those stairs, dude.” Lefty hauled Josie back against his bulk. No way to reach for the knife now. “I mean it. Stop, or we blow away the babes.”
Diego froze, his gaze flicking from Josie to Diana. “I hear you. Just stay cool.”
“Damn. There weren’t supposed to be three people,” Righty barked in raspy grunts swinging his gun onto Diana. “Just her and her boyfriend.”
“No problem,” Lefty growled with hot garlic breath. “We’ll dump all three of them in the desert where the coyotes can get ’em.”
This wasn’t a random hit or burglary. They’d been sent. And they were apparently either stupid or overconfident. She now had no choice but to fight, since they’d removed hope of being left alive.
Lefty waggled his gun at Diego and banded his beefy arm tighter around Josie’s waist. “Dude, I can see you thinking there about taking us out now, but here’s the deal. You cooperate and we won’t rape the women before we pop ’em in the head.” He caressed the cold gun barrel along her temple. “You can even be the last to take a bullet to the brain, dude, just to make sure we’re good on our word. So? We have a deal?”
As if they could trust these bastards on anything.
But the bastards wouldn’t know they were up against women who could defend themselves. That element of surprise would be an advantage they could only wield once.
“So, dude,” Diego drawled lazy and slow, swinging the attackers’ attention ever so subtly to him and buying time for the women to act. “I guess you’re not interested in cutting a deal here for my Harley?”
“Harley?” The gun slid from her temple.
Josie jammed her elbow back, pivoted, reached to grab his arm. A gunshot exploded into the floor inches from her feet. Scuffling sounded behind her as Diana no doubt kicked the crap out of her opponent. A shot blasted the ceiling. Plaster rained on their heads.
She leveled Lefty just as Diego launched forward up the stairs, landing flat. He grappled for the gunman’s hand and twisted. Cracking bones echoed with the man’s scream as he rolled to his feet.
Josie spun to her sister. Diana’s hands were wrapped around the other attacker’s wrist, wrestling the gun above their heads. She brought her knee up between his legs.
Howling, Righty tumbled forward, ramming Diana against the wall.
Josie grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked him off. She slammed his head against the wall once, twice, again until he stopped resisting. He collapsed into her bedroom.
“Shit,” Lefty said, and stumbled back from Diego’s fist, nose spurting blood. Decisiveness burned in the dark eyes in the mask a second before he spun away. Righty scrambled after him.
Whipping her knife from her boot, Josie sprinted, so close, if she stretched her reach a little farther…Footsteps pounded behind her with backup.
Both masked men dove out the balcony window.
Josie screeched to a halt against the wrought-iron railing, regaining her balance, readying to scale down to the lo
t. She swung one leg over the barrier—
The men climbed into a waiting car and squealed away.
Damn.
She brought her leg back over and turned. “Everyone okay?”
Diego was covered in blood.
The knife slipped from her fingers and thudded to the floor. “Oh my God.”
She rushed forward. Her hands hovered along him, careful not to risk touching and possibly hurting him until she knew. “Where are you injured?”
“I’m fine.” He gripped her shoulders and hauled her close. “It’s just blood from his broken nose. At least the cops will have a decent DNA sample to go with that license plate number. Diana?”
“I’m okay,” her sister answered from beside the bed, telephone already in hand. “Just calling the cops.”
“Josie?” His hands stroked down her hair again and again. “What about you? You’re awfully quiet, Buttercup.”
Her cheek pressed to his chest. His heartbeat slugged against her while she stared at the empty parking lot. Diana’s voice relaying details to 9-1-1 broke the night silence.
They both could have died—because of her. Just like Craig.
“I’m fine.” She inched out of the comfort of Diego’s arms that threatened to weaken her with softer emotions. “Totally fine and completely pissed.”
The bastard responsible for this was going down.
Three hours later, Josie stabbed at her supper—cashew chicken. Delivery Chinese food would have to take the place of mac and cheese for comfort tonight. Diana sat across from her at the glass-and-chrome dinette set, stirring her chopsticks through a carton of sweet-and-sour pork.
Josie’s damp hair stuck to her neck. Diego had hugged her so hard he’d smeared the blood from Lefty’s broken nose all over her flight suit, necessitating a shower and change into shorts and a T-shirt.
Now, Diego was showering back in her bedroom, which too easily brought to mind images of bathing with him at his place. Was that only a few days ago? Since then she’d been threatened with a court martial, arrested, released, had wild sex with Diego against a wall, been attacked by two gunmen and filed police reports.
And it was only Monday. She’d faced combat situations that hadn’t given her heart as heavy a workout as it had received in the past twelve hours.
The cops had responded quickly to Diana’s call, scouted the area, run the license-plate number. Stolen plates. No surprise there. Josie couldn’t fault the police. There wasn’t much more to go on or much else to do from a civilian angle.
Still, someone was definitely after her.
Now Diego and Diana had come into the crosshairs, as well. Especially Diego, since hadn’t the men noted to expect a boyfriend? She needed to get them both the hell away from her.
“Don’t even go there, Josephine,” Diana ordered between bites of fried pork.
“Go where?” Josie swung her feet up onto the chair beside her.
Diana dropped her chopsticks into the carton. “You’re blaming yourself for calling me and that’s just crap. I’m an adult. Nobody makes me go anywhere I don’t want to anymore. I’m not leaving until we have some answers for you. I don’t think you’re going to have any luck budging Diego, either.”
She suspected her stubborn sister was right. Even as that scared her hair nearly dry, she couldn’t stop a smile over Diana’s not-so-subtle reference to the times a much younger Josie had hauled her baby sister around—by her pigtails, if necessary. “I still believe you should go home. But I’ll try not to feel like pond scum for bringing you here.”
“Well, try harder. And while you’re at it, pass the pot stickers please, Buttercup.” Diana drew out the last word with the torturously teasing emphasis that only a sibling could deliver.
And she’d thought her sister was too occupied calling the cops to have heard Diego use that silly name. Heaven forbid Diana had overheard it earlier during the sex-fest against the wall.
Diana smiled wickedly. “I’m never going to let you forget that one you know.”
“I figured as much.”
“So from the, uh—” Diana scooped up another pork bite, red sauce dripping onto her sweatshirt “—activity earlier with you and Diego, I’m guessing you’re officially a couple now?”
Big-time blush alert. “Why didn’t you let us know you were here right away?”
“I tried to say something, even hollered a hello once, but you two went at it so fast and, uh, loud, you must not have heard me.” She snatched a napkin from the middle of the table and dabbed at her sweatshirt. “I didn’t want to embarrass you. I thought I was being polite.”
Her sister sure seemed to be getting a kick out of making her blush now. Buttercup. Josie rolled her eyes. “Well, you could have put a pillow over your head.”
“I did. It helped, except for that crash,” Diana continued with a wicked grin.
The picture frame.
“Okay! Okay.” Josie closed her eyes, raising a hand in surrender. “I get the idea.”
“Actually, I decided it wasn’t a bad time for a nap. Noise from the guys breaking in must have triggered those agent instincts and woken me.”
Memories of the hellish moment when the gunmen had burst in rolled back between them in a toxic cloud. Being almost certain they could kick their attackers’ butts didn’t stop a healthy respect for the lethal power of a gun. Any or all of them could have died so easily.
Diana’s napkin wadded in her tight fist. “Are you ever going to pass my pot stickers?”
Josie thrust the box of Chinese food. “Sure. Sorry.”
“Thanks, Buttercup.” The need to insert levity was obviously mutual.
Josie lobbed the Beanie Baby horse at her sister’s head. “Brat.”
“Ouch! Don’t make me come over there and hurt you.”
“I’d welcome the fight.”
“That bad a week?”
“The worst.” Craig’s death. The possible end of her career. The end of salvaging her mother’s dream.
Diana jabbed inside the cardboard carton with her chopsticks and speared a doughy dumpling. “Are you upset with me for calling Diego?”
“A little,” she answered truthfully. Didn’t she always? Which compelled her to continue. “Although I’m starting to wonder if on some subconscious level I knew that was exactly what you would do since I couldn’t bring myself to ask him for help. Is that messed-up logic or what?”
“We Lockworth women sure do know how to get mixed into some screwed-up relationships. Of course, we didn’t have much of a model for a mother.”
Defensiveness rolled to the fore on already plank-taut nerves. “She was sick, Diana. Isn’t it time you cut her some slack?”
“Maybe you should take your own advice with Dad,” her sister snapped back.
“There wasn’t a damn thing wrong with him.” Josie dropped her carton on the table, leaning forward on both elbows. “Just because he tried to cook us macaroni and cheese once doesn’t make him a good father or a good husband. He can fawn all over Mom now that she’s well, but where the hell was he when she was staring at a wall like a zombie for hours on end? And when he dumped us off at boarding school?”
Diana sagged back into her chair in surly silence.
Hell. Way to go, Buttercup. She comes to save your ass and you pick a fight.
Josie formed a time-out T with her hands. “Whoa. Hold on. Let’s take this down a notch. We were actually getting along for a while and God knows I appreciate your help even though it scares the hell out of me having you here. Let’s agree to leave the other subject alone.”
“Sure. Worked in the past, I guess. Whatever you say. You’re the big sister after all.” Diana scraped her chair back from the table and shuffled toward the kitchen.
“Ah, come on, Diehard. I’m sorry.”
“Whatever.”
God, that sister of hers reverted to the sullen teenager so easily she made it tough to remember she was an adult officer.
“Hey, l
adies,” Diego called from the hall. “Hope y’all saved some of the Chinese for me. I’m damn near starving.”
Scrubbing a towel over his wet hair, Diego ambled down the stairs, wearing fresh jeans, a clean T-shirt and a just-showered smell that watered Josie’s mouth more than any box of cashew chicken. “Do you need to check on Bogey and Bandit?”
“I took care of that before I picked you up. They’re with a neighbor.” He smoothed her hair back with a lover’s caress before continuing into the kitchen.
He’d definitely intended from the start to stay overnight, otherwise why bring a change of clothes? Her watering mouth dried up. She’d slept in bed with him twice over the weekend. No problem. Except now there was this big pink elephant in the room between them after her note and request for distance.
She watched him over the bar separating the dining area from the kitchen. Angling past Diana, he hooked the towel around his neck.
“Hey, little sister, want a—” he swung the refrigerator door wide and grimaced “—bottled water?”
“No long-necks, huh?” Diana groused.
“’Fraid not.”
Josie envied his ability to call Diana “little sister” without generating a nuclear sulk in return. But then Diego had that sort of easiness with just about everyone. Even in brood mode, he didn’t set people on edge—like she somehow managed to do too often.
Taking the seat beside Josie, Diego twisted the top off his water and grabbed the carton closest to him. “Any thoughts on what move you want to make next?” He set his bottle on the table. “I’m thinking we’ll want to act fast since apparently somebody’s upset you dodged the court martial so easily.”
Josie snagged a steno pad from the middle of the table. “I agree.”
Diego pointed to the paper with a chopstick before stabbing his beef lo mein. “Make sure you save yourself a sheet for your note to me in the morning.”