Outspoken Angel

by Mia Dymond

Cameron stirred as Maxwell jumped to the bed, curled around her pillow, and tickled her nose with his tail.

  Her whisper was so faint he could barely hear her. “Max?”

  He smoothed her curls away from her face. “Yeah, Baby, it’s me.”

  She sighed and snuggled closer to him, awakening the bulge in his jeans.

  Grimacing from the contact, he reached between them and lowered his zipper half an inch before he draped a hand across her hip. “Sleep,” he whispered across the top of her head. “You’re safe now.”

  * * *

  The early morning sun shining through the bedroom curtains woke Max. He buried his face in Cameron’s neck and nudged her awake. Obviously annoyed, she sat up and smacked him with a pillow.

  “Keep it up, Chrome Dome, and you’ll sleep in your truck.”

  He grabbed the pillow and tossed it back to the bed. “Doctor’s orders, Grumpy. I have to make sure you’re alive.”

  “It sucks to be you, Max. Leave me alone!” She sunk back into the pillows and fell right back to sleep.

  Wide awake and hungry, Max climbed out of bed and went down to the kitchen with Maxwell trotting along behind.

  Rummaging through the refrigerator, he pulled out mustard, lettuce and tomato, ham and cheese. He stumbled as the cat meowed and wound around his legs.

  He pushed the purring nuisance away with one foot and continued to build his sandwiches. “Damn! I was planning to share with you, until you tried to take me out. Again!”

  He sat down at the table and watched as the furball had the nerve to jump up on the table, sit down and give him an evil stare.

  Convinced the cat wouldn’t hesitate to challenge him, Max sighed. “Alright.”

  He tore off a chunk of ham and tossed it to the oversized tabby, who watched it bounce off his nose and hit the table with a thunk. Then he stared at it. Finally, the cat stood, stretched, inched his way closer, and sniffed. Finally, he hunched down and delicately nibbled.

  Max shook his head. “If you were a dog, you would have caught that and swallowed it whole.” Max took a bite of his sandwich and continued his one-sided conversation. “You’re way too girly to have a macho name like Maxwell.”

  Maxwell twitched his tail back and forth and flattened his ears against his head.

  “How about Sissy?” Max taunted.

  Obviously insulted, Maxwell growled and his fur stood on end.

  The scratches on his foot encouraged Max to back off. He looked up to see Cameron yawn as she entered the room and curled up in his lap. “Who are you talking to?”

  She picked up his glass and drank before burrowing into his embrace. Max scooched down in the chair, rested his chin on top of her head, and rubbed her arms.

  “You have goosebumps.”

  Her lips tickled the skin of his neck as she spoke. “Someone turned off the heat. Were you talking to Maxwell?”

  “Yeah, but he doesn’t listen to me any better than you.”

  His buzzing cell phone interrupted her response. He drug it from his pocket and flipped it open.

  “Hey, Steele. Give me some good news.”

  “I’ve got somebody here who’s very anxious to visit with you.”

  “You got him?” Max straightened and nearly knocked Cameron off his lap. “Where?”

  “Funny thing about car thieves,” Steele said, “they attract a lot of attention.”

  “He saw you break into my truck?”

  “Yeah, walked right past the house. I followed him down the block and grabbed him.”

  “Where are you now?”

  “Empty warehouse. Sixth and Valhalla.”

  “I’m there,” he said, slapping his phone closed.

  “Steele’s got Stone.” Max stood and deposited Cameron into his chair. “I’ve got to go.”

  He gave her a quick kiss and he headed upstairs.

  She followed. “Isn’t Brett going to call the police?”

  “Not yet. I’m going to have a little talk with him first. Believe me, Doll, if he ever gets out of prison again, he won’t come anywhere near you.”

  “Max, don’t do something that’s going to get you in trouble.” She sat down on the bed to watch him dress.

  He chuckled inwardly. She was worried about him getting into trouble? Trouble was her middle name.

  He squatted in front of her and placed the back of his hand to her forehead. “How do you feel?”

  “Better.”

  “Get back in bed and I’ll be back as quick as I can. Do you want me to call Holly and see if she will stay with you while I’m gone?”

  She shook her head and laid her hand against his cheek. “Rachel and Holly are coming over soon. We’re going to hang out by the pool.”

  “Don’t overdo.”

  “I won’t. Behave, Max. I don’t want to have to raise bail money.”

  He tousled her mussed curls. “No trips to jail for me, I promise.”

  * * *

  Max shook his head in disbelief when he parked in front of the vacant warehouse. Damn, Steele. The place was something right out of a mob movie, complete with several mounds of dirt and a bulldozer parked nearby.

  Steele shoved Stone at Max as he stormed inside the warehouse. “Hey, Sterling! Welcome to the party.”

  Max grabbed Stone and forced him into a chair, undeterred by the blood that dripped from his nose.

  “Looks like you started the party without me.”

  “Hey, I have rights! You guys can’t just kidnap me and beat me up!”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Steele circled Stone. “We’re just having a little talk, right Sterling?”

  “That’s right.” Max leaned into Stone’s face. “I should kill you for all you’ve put Cameron through.” He grabbed the front of Stone’s shirt and lifted him by the collar. His feet dangled in the air. “I know over thirty five ways to kill a man. With my bare hands, and I can make it look like an accident.”

  “Hey, I just wanted her back. If you wa…want her that bad -” Stone gasped for air. “You can have her. The bitch isn’t worth all this.”

  Max fought his temper as his face reddened. Planting his fist in Stone’s stomach, he let go of Stone’s shirt and watched him drop to the floor while he coughed and cursed.

  Steele placed a hand on Max’s shoulder when Stone started forward again. “Easy, Sterling. He’s not worth it. Let me question him, okay?”

  Max paced away from them, then turned and nodded.

  “Go for it.”

  Steele lifted Stone by the collar and propped him back into the chair. “Did you really think you were going to win her back by scaring her and trying to kill her?”

  “Ow, I think he broke my ribs,” Stone groaned.

  “Quit whining and answer my question.”

  “I didn’t mean to scare her. I left her a present and called her. I didn’t try to kill her.”

  “You punctured her brake line!” Max thundered.

  “No way!” Stone protested. “I don’t even know where a brake line is.”

  Steele’s phone interrupted the interrogation. The conversation was short.

  “Uh, Sterling. We have a small problem.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Max started toward Stone again. “But he’s going to tell the truth real quick.”

  “Wait. He is telling the truth. The prints on the brake line weren’t his. Where’s Cameron?”

  “At home. Rachel and Holly are with her.” A wave of disbelief nudged him.

  “Call her, Sterling,” Steele snapped, pulling Max from his shock. “Tell her to lock the doors and don’t let anybody in but us.”

  * * *

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Holly,” Cameron groaned while she extended her left arm and attempted to bend it to copy Holly’s position, “I don’t think my arm moves like that.”

  “I know mine doesn’t,” Rachel mumbled.

  “Relax, ladies.” Holly gave an encouraging smile. “Just take a deep bre
ath and try again.”

  Cameron looked at Rachel and shrugged. Holly swore by the healing qualities of exercise and since Cameron felt like she’d been hit by a Mack truck, she decided to go along.

  Rachel gasped as she raised her arm over her head. “Are you sure we’ll feel better after all this?”

  Holly nodded. “Absolutely.”

  Cameron raised her right arm and bit her lip to suppress a whine. “How long do we hold it like this?”

  “Not much longer,” Holly assured her.

  Cameron’s arm burnt and her fingers threatened to go numb just as she heard the doorbell gong. “Darn.” She unfolded her arms and eased off her lounge chair. “Please, carry on without me.”

  “Coward,” Rachel muttered.

  Holly cleared her throat. “Let’s just ignore it.”

  Cameron gave her an apologetic smile. “I promise, I’ll be right back. I swear I won’t bail.”

  “I think we should wait for Max.” Holly lowered her arms and glanced at Rachel. “What do you think?”

  Rachel frowned. “Cameron, are you expecting someone?”

  The doorbell chimed again.

  “No. It’s probably just a delivery.” Cameron dismissed the two worry-warts with a wave of her hand and headed inside.

  Once she stood in front of the door, she hesitated just a moment before she turned the knob. Maybe she should wait for Max. Good grief. She chided herself for being so silly. Max had the bad guy. No need to panic.

  Just as a precaution, she stood on her tiptoes and peeked out the peephole. Her eyes widened behind her sunglasses when she found someone quite unexpected on her front porch. Carelessly, she flung open the door.

  Her visitor gave a cocky smirk. “Hi.”

  She inserted her body in the doorway and folded her arms across her chest.

  “Pirelli,” she drawled. “What are you doing here?”

  “Can I come in?”

  “Why?”

  “I’d like to talk to you.”

  She noticed his eager eyes caress her breasts boosted by her bikini top. “I don’t think so.”

  “Come on, baby.” He reached to tweak a curl.

  She batted his hand away.

  “My name is Cameron, Pirelli, and the answer is no.”

  He stuck his foot in the doorway as she attempted to close the door and then grabbed her arm to pull her against him. She gasped as she felt cold metal kiss her bare stomach.

  His smile was laced with venom as he pushed her inside and back against the wall. “Now, let’s you and I have our talk.”

  She glanced down at the gun and then remembered the alarm control panel, now inches from her head. “I have company.” She raised a hand to trace his bottom lip with one fingernail. “Wouldn’t you rather talk here … alone?”

  Pirelli gave a sideways smile and lowered his head until his mouth was poised to take hers. “You’re so easy, sweetheart.”

  As Cameron turned her head to the side to escape his touch, her left cheek rolled across the security pad.

  He cursed under his breath. “Tease.”

  He peeled her from the wall and with the barrel of the gun pressed to the small of her back, nudged her through the house and out the patio door.

  “Cameron?” Rachel asked, as he pushed Cameron back into her chair.

  She swallowed hard and attempted to appear unphased. “I’ve attracted another psycho, Rachel.”

  Rachel laid her hand across her swollen stomach. “Obviously he falls into the fourteen percent of ex-boyfriends who turn into stalkers,” she mumbled to Cameron. Rachel turned to look up at Sean. “What do you want?”

  “Revenge.”

  Pirelli waved the cold steel in the air. The telephone rang from the depths of the house.

  * * *

  Unfamiliar, sheer, black fear swept through Max and numbed his insides as Cameron’s voice mail answered his call. A shudder rippled his heart.

  I shouldn’t have left her alone.

  “Shit, she always answers her phone.”

  “Focus, Sterling.” Steele’s sharp tone forced Max to redirect his thoughts. “Try the house.”

  “I did.” He dialed another number and then spoke into the phone. “Hawke, call the police.”

  “Why? Where are you?”

  “Just do it,” Max ordered. “The prints on the brake line weren’t Stone’s. They were Pirelli’s.”

  “Sean Pirelli’s?”

  “Yeah, I’m headed to Cameron’s.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  The phone line stilled before Max could protest. He released a heavy breath and glanced at Steele.

  “Hawke’s on his way to the house.”

  Steele cleared his throat. “Hawke?”

  Max scrubbed a hand down his jaw and ignored the sarcasm in Steele’s voice. “We’ll send him in as a decoy.”

  Steele lifted an eyebrow, clearly not impressed by the idea. “Are you sure?”

  Max’s blood boiled and his patience snapped. “Hell yes, I’m sure. What’s your major malfunction, Steele?”

  Steele’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Unless we’re talking about another Jaydon Hawke, the public thinks he’s a freakin’ rock star, Sterling! I’m not convinced this is a good idea.”

  Max exhaled in desperation. “His wife is there and I won’t be able to stop him. Besides, Pirelli won’t be threatened by Hawke.”

  Steele gestured at Stone. “What about him?”

  “Put him in the truck. Do you have handcuffs?”

  Steele nodded and locked Stone’s hands behind his back before he pushed him into the extended cab of Max’s truck.

  * * *

  Sweat coated Max’s brow as he drove the distance to Cameron’s house. Pirelli. The bastard better hope he had a guardian angel. If Pirelli so much as even touched one of those blonde curls, Max would rob him of fresh air.

  “I told you I didn’t have anything to do with it,” Stone said from behind him.

  Max squeezed the steering wheel until he thought his fingers would snap and glanced at Steele.

  Steele gave a cocky grin. “Shut up, Stone.”

  Once he drove up Cameron’s driveway, Max jammed the truck into park and got out. Steele opened the passenger door, stepped out, and slid his seat forward.

  “Out.” He motioned for Stone to leave the truck.

  “No way. I’m not going in there.”

  Steele sighed, grabbed Stone by the arm and pulled him out of the truck. “No, you’re not.”

  He dragged Stone around to the driver’s side and unlocked one handcuff before he shoved Stone back inside and re-locked the cuffs to the steering wheel. Steele grabbed the keys from the ignition and tossed them to Max.

  Max gave them both a pointed stare before he stalked toward the house.

  “Uh, Sterling.” Steele’s lazy drawl held a hint of humor. “We have a prisoner.”

  Max stopped in mid-stride, spun around and stomped back to the truck. A sickening crack filled the silence as his fist connected with Stone’s jaw. A small trail of blood trickled from Stone’s bottom lip as he lay slumped in the seat.

  Steele shook his head. “That’s one way to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”

  Max’s response was interrupted by Hawke’s arrival. The black Suburban pulled up next to Max’s truck and Hawke jumped out.

  “Somebody tell me what the hell is going on in there.”

  Max exhaled in frustration. “We don’t know yet.”

  Hawke turned to look at Stone. “What happened to him?”

  Steele shrugged. “Nap.”

  Hawke frowned. “I thought he was the one responsible. What does Pirelli have to do with this?”

  Max squared his shoulders. “That’s what I’m about to find out. You and Steele stay here until I give the signal.”

  “What’s the signal?” Steele asked.

  “Birdcall. Sparrow.”

  Steele nodded.

  Hawke folded his arm
s across his chest. “No.”

  Max whipped his head around at Hawke’s protest. “No?”

  “No. I’m going with you.”

  Steele grunted. “Hell, Hawke, if you go, that means I have to go.”

  “I need you both.” Max ran a hand across the top of his head. “But at least let me get a fix on the situation first.”

  Hawke nodded. “We’ll wait outside the door.”

  Anxiety knotted his stomach when Max found the front door of the house unlatched. Easing cautiously through the opening, he jumped when Maxwell wound himself back and forth, in and out of his legs and meowed insistently.

  He swallowed his panic and leaned down to scratch the cat’s ears. “What’s wrong, Buddy?” he whispered.

  Maxwell answered with a feral growl low in his throat and ran toward the back door. Max signaled for Hawke and Steele and then followed the angry cat. He stopped short as soon as he could see the patio.

  His heart pounded until he thought it would crack when he saw that Sean Pirelli stood in front of Rachel, Holly and Cameron with a gun holding their absolute attention. Rachel and Holly sat mute, but Cameron didn’t appear intimidated. Although he couldn’t hear what she said, her head bobbed from side to side with each accented syllable.

  “Sonuvabitch,” he muttered under his breath. He cast a glance at Hawke. “Can you go out there and distract him?”

  Hawke balled his fists and nodded.

  Max lifted the corner of his mouth. “Without pissing him off?”

  Hawke turned to look out the back door. “Think he’ll fall for it?”

  “Pirelli’s not exactly Einstein.” Max pulled his gun from the back of his pants and released the safety. “As long as you can keep his attention, Steele and I can take it from there.”

  “Or, you can stay here with Sterling and I’ll go,” Steele suggested.

  “The hell you say!” Hawke’s face turned bright red. “My wife, who happens to be pregnant, is out there with that lunatic.”

  Steele took a step back.

  Max snickered. “Then go.”

  * * *