Sweet Seduction Shield

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Sweet Seduction Shield Page 6

by Nicola Claire


  He bustled us out of the store then, making sure Daisy had suitable time to hand over her masterpiece, and accept the praise and payment of half a dozen Kelly King Penguins in return. Then he made sure I was buffered from the harried and hurrying customers, even the pedestrians out on the populated sidewalk, until he could safely deliver us to his car.

  I wasn't sure if I should be scared of Detective Pierce. Not like I'm scared of Roan McLaren. Or scared of a stranger touching me uninvited. Or scared of appearing less than confident. This fear was all for the way he made me feel. For the brief moment of peace he brought me. The sense of security and safety I could become accustomed to.

  That was a fear that threatened to spiral out of control.

  He slipped into the driver's seat beside me, turned to check on Daisy with a dazzling and comforting smile, then flicked his glance to me. He held my eyes a little longer than necessary, then cleared his throat and started the car, pulling out into heavy traffic.

  "Their names are Ben and Abi," he said out of nowhere. "They both work for a security and private investigations firm aptly called Anscombe Security and Investigations. Have you heard of them?"

  I shook my head, he caught the movement out of the corner of his eyes.

  "They are well trained, excellent at what they do, good people," he further explained. "Ben's local, Abi's from down South. They're good friends and like I said earlier, I trust them implicitly with your safety." He glanced in the rear view mirror to check on Daisy, who with a flick of my gaze over my shoulder, I could see was staring out of her window intently. Pierce lowered his voice, "They'd lay down their lives, if need be."

  I wasn't sure how to feel about that. These people would be strangers, why would they protect us at the risk of their lives? Why would Pierce think this would make me feel better?

  "I don't want anyone to get hurt," I said, just as quietly back.

  "Marie," he said, reaching over to wrap a large palm around my hand. I did jerk at that. Habit. In the closed confines of the car, it was harder to pretend the move wasn't necessary. He tightened his grip, denying my escape. His eyes on my face, not on the road in front of us.

  I forced myself to lift my head, from where I'd been staring dumbly down at our joined hands, and looked at him. I'm sure there was a message in his eyes, in the intense look he was giving me, but right then I couldn't decipher it. I was too on edge, too wound up. About to break down from the sheer terror of it all. The situation. The danger. Him.

  "It's going to be OK," he said gently. "You've done the right thing. The only thing you could have done. Now all you have to do is let us help you."

  I nodded. What else could I do? The ball had been set in motion, I just had to watch where it rolled to.

  The house Pierce brought us to was a large looking 1950's weatherboard bungalow, which had been extended significantly at some stage. A double garage sat detached on the rear of the section, a concrete drive leading to it down the side of the house. The garden in the front had been culled recently. Whatever had existed beforehand had been pulled out and not yet replaced. Empty parcels of dirt represented former patches of someone's hard work, and looked decidedly forlorn in their current state. But the picket fence along the front of the property had been newly painted a deep green, to match the newly painted deep green trim under the windows.

  It was clear this was a project in progress.

  Pierce drove his vehicle into the driveway and coasted it down the side of the house. Loud music could be heard thumping behind closed windows. Someone was yelling, and receiving a shout in reply.

  Then the back of the section opened up and I suddenly knew where Ben and Abi had been focusing their renovation and gardening skills. The garden was complete, with a large expanse of green grass, trimmed immaculately. The fenced area bordered by colourful Azaleas and flax bushes, Bougainvillea and tall stemmed, blue and white Agapanthus. A large flowering Cherry Tree sat pride of place in the centre, big enough to sport a wooden swing seat.

  Behind the house itself was an enormous wooden deck, still unblemished by New Zealand's harsh sun. Deck chairs and loungers spread out in a circle on one end, and the largest barbecue I'd ever laid eyes on, complete with outdoor fridge and a sink, sat at the other. A man, with Māori features, stood at the open back door, his arm casually hanging over the shoulder of a petite platinum blonde woman to his side. Both were smiling, but I noticed the woman, Abi it must have been, was shuffling nervously on her feet. The man, Ben obviously, pulled her close and laid a reassuring kiss in amongst her hair, then murmured something to in her ear. She nodded, sucked in a deep breath, and turned her attention back on us as we climbed out of the car.

  An interesting reaction to us, that's for sure. But then, how would I feel inviting strangers into my - clearly newly purchased - house, knowing they brought McLaren type trouble? She had a right to worry and I wouldn't deny her it.

  Pierce made sure we were both out of the vehicle before he greeted the pair.

  "Ben, my man," he said, shaking the guy's hand, then he murmured a softly spoken, "Abi, sweetheart," as he kissed the woman on her cheek.

  Ben quickly pulled her out of Pierce's clutches and back into the protection of his arm. It was such a proprietary move, but completely lost on Pierce. Or he was just used to it from the bigger man, and paid it little attention.

  "This is Marie Cox and her beautiful daughter, Daisy," Pierce announced, and then did the strangest thing. He stepped up to my side and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. In a mimic of Ben and Abi.

  A move that wasn't ignored by the Ben. His eyebrows rose, as his shrewd gaze slipped over our forms and to Pierce's face.

  "Is that so?" he drawled, and received an elbow in the stomach from Abi.

  "Hi," she said, stepping forward and offering her hand for me to shake, "I'm Abi, and the Neanderthal back there is Ben."

  "Red," Ben growled in warning. She flashed him a smile, he immediately smiled back. Clearly without thinking, because when he caught himself doing it he scowled instead.

  "And you're Princess Daisy," Abi announced crouching down. "Gen told me you drew the most amazing picture of a penguin. Is that true?" the woman asked, as though it was a mystery she'd dearly love to solve.

  In that instant I knew we'd done the right thing. Coming here. Trusting Pierce. Ben would be a formidable force to come against, to get to us. And Abi was a natural with kids.

  "I can do one for you, too," Daisy announced, taking an eager step towards Abi.

  Abi beamed back at her, and stretched out her hand for Daisy to take. Without even the slightest hesitation Daisy slipped her hand into the woman's.

  "You got crayons?" Daisy asked, as Abi's eyes flicked up to check on me.

  "Sweetheart," she murmured, "we've got paint." She said it like it was a prize, and to a five year old it probably was. To the daughter of an obsessively clean mother, it certainly was. "And what's more, Ben and I have a wall in our house that needs an artist's touch."

  "Penguins, Red. Really?" Ben asked, from back on the deck.

  "Penguins, Ben," she replied. "And lots of 'em."

  Daisy squealed with delight and followed Abi into the house.

  "You stayin' for a beer?" Ben asked Pierce, as we both came up onto the deck. I hadn't realised it was that late in the day, but we had spent several hours at Sweet Seduction.

  "Yeah, sure," Pierce replied with a shrug. "But I've got to check on a few things back at the office first and I need half an hour alone with Marie before then."

  He hadn't said that in any lewd or suggestive way, but for some reason I felt a blush sweep up my cheeks. Ben's eyes quickly flicked to my face briefly before he turned and walked through the door leading the way into the house.

  Pierce stopped me before I crossed the threshold with a gentle touch on my arm. He didn't hold on, his hand dropped to his side immediately.

  And I missed it.

  I frowned in confusion at my reaction to this man. He took
a small step back. Minute really, but clearly because he'd seen my response to his touch.

  "Sorry," he murmured. Shook his head, then ran a hand over his goatee. "Um, are you all right? With all of this, I mean." He waved a hand at Ben and Abi's house. He also sounded unlike himself. Not that I'd known him long, but the apology for touching me and his stumbling questions afterwards were not the Detective Pierce that I'd seen so far.

  "I guess," I said slowly. "Just nervous, about everything." I hoped that explained my reaction to him just now. Part of me didn't want him to feel like he'd done anything wrong.

  Part of me was hoping he'd reach out and touch me again.

  "Good," he said with a nod of his head.

  "Good," I replied, unsure of what else to say.

  He smiled then, it broke the tension building, and with a sweep of his hand towards the entrance, he announced, "Ladies first."

  I had to smile at that too. I hardly felt like a lady in days old clothes, scrapes on my knees and bruises all over my body. I wondered if my hair was a mess too. I reached up a hand and flattened the chin length strands down, tucking a wayward piece behind my ear.

  "You look great," Pierce murmured in my ear from behind.

  "Pardon?" I asked, certain I'd misheard him. He cleared his throat.

  "Do you, er, want to check on Daisy and then we can get that statement of yours sorted." Way to change the topic there, Detective. Very smooth.

  I turned back to look at him, a smirk playing on my lips which I seemed unable to hide. He raised an eyebrow at me, a small smattering of pink in his cheeks. I was momentarily stunned immobile. The big bad goatee wearing detective blushes.

  "Marie?" he asked, after what was an embarrassingly long time filled with silence. "Daisy?"

  "Ah, yeah, Daisy," I said, turning on my heel and cursing my idiocy right then.

  I found Daisy and Abi in an empty room, after Ben gave directions on how to find them. It was obviously going to be a guest room, but the wallpaper had been stripped and the plasterboard left unfinished. Obviously not much progress had been made yet. The floor was covered from corner to corner in a dust sheet, taped down at the edges to avoid any loose drops of paint. And there was paint here. A dozen opened test pots of various colours, with small brushes leaning on the side of each one.

  Abi was stirring the last opened tin, while an old borrowed t-shirt covered Daisy was chattering away about King Penguins and the Antarctic and her plans to migrate there. A genuine, not indulgent, smile graced the woman's lips as her head tipped up when I walked in.

  "Mummy, look at this!" Daisy exclaimed. "Abi says I can paint it all!"

  I arched a brow at that. "Are you sure?" I asked Abi.

  "Absolutely. Ben and I have had so many arguments about what colour to paint this room, that I think we need a third opinion now."

  "You know she'll use every single colour you've got," I pointed out.

  "That's the idea," Abi said happily. "Then when I suggest boring old 'biscuit' or stuck-in-the-mud 'merino', Ben will think I'm a genius."

  "Ah," I said on a laugh. "Good move."

  I suddenly realised she'd stopped stirring and was looking at me, head cocked to the side, face pinched.

  "What?" I asked, immediately checking over my shoulder to make sure no one else was there. Searching for the real reason why she looked pained.

  Abi shook her head and smiled again, the moment gone.

  "Is Ryan staying for dinner?" she asked instead.

  It sounded strange hearing Pierce called by his first name. I'd come to think of him as only Pierce, or the Detective.

  "I guess so, he said he'd stay for a beer when Ben asked."

  "Ah, Ben and his beers on the deck. Do you know he used to live in a garage flat when I first met him," she offered, a seemingly personal bit of information. "None of the windows were low enough to look outside. Now we have a deck and a garden and all this space and he wants everyone to share it." She sounded so proud of him, like this was an enormous accomplishment.

  What had these two been through to bring them here?

  "How long have you lived in this place?" I asked.

  "Two months. He couldn't wait to find a home for us to both live in, he made an offer on the first house he viewed."

  I smiled at the roll of her eyes.

  "Did you want to live here?" I couldn't help asking.

  "I would have lived with him in the garage flat if he'd asked," she said softly.

  I blinked my eyes a few times to wash the sting of tears away. Why her story affected me so much, I couldn't say. But there appeared to be a depth of love between the two of them that I could only dream about. The sort of love that gets you through the hurdles life throws at you, gets you over the mountains you sometimes have to climb. Makes it possible to survive anything.

  Makes you place the other person first, above all else. Above money and lifestyle. Above greed.

  "Are you OK, Marie?" Abi asked softly, from right in front of my face.

  "Just remembering," I said, the first thing to enter my head, thankfully wiping the images away.

  "Does that happen a lot?" she asked carefully.

  I sucked in a deep breath, feeling like I was on uneven ground. But she seemed so caring, so familiar, so nice. I found myself answering, without an ounce of my customary shield of confidence at all.

  "Lately, yeah."

  "Because of McLaren?" She almost spat the drug lord's name out.

  "You know him?" I asked, flicking a gaze towards Daisy who was busy outlining her penguin mural on the other side of the room and humming to herself.

  "You could say that," she offered, and then I saw something flash across her face. Something real and visceral. Something I recognised in myself. Something that sucked all the air out of the room and made me take a stumbling step back.

  "You... you've," I stammered. Swallowed thickly, then felt a heat brace my spine and across my shoulders, as Pierce's hands came up to grip my upper arms and still my backwards escape.

  "Shhh," he said in my ear soothingly, hot breath across my cheek. "Tell her Abi," he instructed quietly, so as not to garner Daisy's attention.

  "Marie," Abi said heavily, as though the weight of the world was on her shoulders. "I spent the past five years of my life running from that..." she glanced over to the other side of the room at a still oblivious Daisy, but thought better of the description she was about to use, and instead finished with a ground out, "man."

  "Oh," I said, unable to form another word in my mind.

  Then I lost the ability to think completely, when she added, "I'm so sorry, but I was there that night. I saw what he did to Rick."

  The world turned dim, as I heard someone screaming and felt Pierce's arms tighten around me.

  And as Daisy cried out a tortured, "Mummy!"

  Chapter 7

  Oh, Fuck

  "Well, that didn't quite go as you'd planned," a deep, gruff voice said through the haze of my scrambled mind.

  "No," a familiar male voice replied. The sound of it somehow settling my rapid heartbeat a little. "Not in the slightest."

  "Didn't think to make the announcement away from the kid, e hoa?" the first voice asked.

  "She'd already cottoned on to a connection between them," Pierce pointed out. "I don't think either of us realised the reaction she'd have at the time."

  A grunt of disapproval sounded out from across the room. I kept my lids closed and waited for Ben's reply.

  "Look, Pierce. I'm all for disclosure and all, but sometimes it's just better to keep a lid on things."

  "Like you kept a lid on Abi?" Pierce shot back. "You did a fucking good job of it too, my man."

  "Yeah well, Abi was a redhead at the time, she was livin' up to the name."

  Pierce chuckled. A long pause ensued.

  Then, "Marie's stronger than she gives herself credit for. And Daisy's resilient," Pierce announced. "I've never seen a kid her age get herself under control like that be
fore. She wasn't hysterical, she listened and accepted that we'd take care of her mother. Marie's done a good job of raising her all by herself."

  The grunt this time was in agreement. But mention of Daisy meant cutting my eavesdropping moment short.

  "Is she OK?" I asked, blinking my eyes open, trying to lift my head and finding it resting in Pierce's lap.

  I scrambled upright on that realisation, the room spinning with the sudden change of position and black spots appearing before my eyes. I groaned. Pierce swore softly to the side and tried to encourage me to lie back down, and Ben said something about letting Abi and 'the kid' know I was awake.

  I found myself lying flat out on a bed, Pierce had made the wise move of shifting away from where he'd previously been, and keeping himself in my line of sight.

  "What happened?" I asked, noticing my throat felt raw when I talked.

  "You had a little freak out," Pierce announced, as though screaming myself hoarse until I fainted was just a small thing, that's all.

  "Oh," I said, a brilliantly intelligent reply, for sure.

  "How're you feeling?"

  "Throat hurts," I whispered.

  Pierce walked over to the side of the bed and picked up a glass of water, then without hesitation he slipped a hand behind my neck and helped me sit up to take a sip. The water soothed the ache immediately. He lay me back down gently, brushed a few strands of hair off my face and cheek absently, then replaced the glass and stepped back to where he had formerly been.

  It all happened within seconds, but felt like it deserved a much longer time in my mind.

  I stared at him staring at me and had no idea what to say next. Pierce knew more about me than I'd realised, because he knew a person who'd been there that night.

  Abi.

  Where had she been? I hadn't seen her. It was all men surrounding McLaren from what I remember of that night. But I was extremely stressed at the time, as it was clear McLaren meant us harm; dragging us out to the back field of his compound, guns in their waistbands, feral gleams in their eyes. But where had the woman been if not with the lynching mob?

 

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