by Lori Foster
At the sound of yet more banging, he bellowed, “Keep your pants on! I’m coming.” He couldn’t imagine who’d be visiting him at…he glanced at a clock on the wall and cursed. It wasn’t even close to morning yet.
He looked out the peephole—and stiffened in incredulity. “No fucking way.” After jerking the door open, he demanded, “What the hell is this?”
Barber leaned against the porch wall, his hands folded behind his back, his eyes closed. He looked disgusted, half-embarrassed, and resigned to the inevitable.
The second the door opened, Bonnie threw herself against Simon and started babbling. Fury and confusion warred together. Simon turned to Barber for an explanation. “I’m listening.”
Barber shrugged. “Sorry, bud.” He stepped in around Simon. “I thought she was taking me to her place, but apparently not.”
“You got her drunk?” Simon pried Bonnie loose and held her away from him.
“No, I didn’t get her drunk. She got herself drunk while waiting for the band to finish.”
Simon’s eyebrows climbed high. He didn’t know Barber well, but given that he was Dakota’s friend, he’d had certain expectations about his character. Now Simon wasn’t so sure. He had no respect for men who took advantage of women. “And you were going home with her?”
“That’s right.” His expression turned stony. “In case you failed to notice, she’s wasted. I wasn’t about to let her drive. But then we got jumped in the parking lot, and Ms. Had-Too-Much-to-Drink gave me directions here. I didn’t know it was your place. But all the same, I’d like to call a cab.”
“Hell, no.” Simon dodged Bonnie as she tried to kiss him. “You’re not leaving her here with me, so forget it.”
“What am I supposed to do with her?”
“Take her home.”
Bonnie said, “Noooo…,” and Simon found himself back in her embrace.
Barber shrugged. “You see my predicament. I can’t exactly force her.”
It needed only this, Simon thought. “Start at the beginning. What do you mean that you got jumped?”
“Just that. I was unlocking her car when three guys showed up.” He rubbed his shoulder. “One was swinging a pipe.”
Holding Bonnie at bay, Simon tried to maneuver her toward Barber. She wasn’t having it. Somehow she plastered herself to him and put her face in his neck. He felt her mouth sucking at his throat, felt her nails digging into his flesh.
In disgust, Simon turned toward the couch—and found Dakota standing there. She looked both stunned and annoyed. Though she’d pulled on her jeans, she also had a blanket wrapped around herself. Her long hair hid the bruising on her face.
Perfect, Simon thought. Just freaking perfect. “I thought you were going to stay in bed.”
Barber’s head jerked up. At the sight of Dakota, his eyes widened and he looked genuinely shocked, then derisive. He tsked. “Well, well. Now I’m doubly sorry we intruded.”
“What’s going on?”
Barber snorted. “I don’t need to ask you the same thing, do I?”
Simon growled. The sound startled him as much as it did Bonnie, who levered away in surprise.
Barber just laughed—the annoying ass. “Well, Dakota darlin’, for the most part, mine is a tale of drunken revelry.”
Stepping further into the room, Dakota said, “Funny. You don’t sound drunk.” Clutching the blanket with one hand, she used the other to tuck her long hair behind her ears.
As she did so, Barber took a second look. His slouched posture was exchanged with rigid outrage. “What the hell happened to you?”
Almost as quickly, he turned on Simon with accusation.
“Don’t.” With Bonnie squeezing the breath out of him, Simon said, “Not for a second.”
Barber continued to glare, but not long. “Right.” He headed toward Dakota. “You wouldn’t be here with him if he’d done this.”
“Don’t be an idiot. Simon wouldn’t hurt me any more than you would.”
Simon watched as Barber gently held Dakota’s face, examined each hurtful mark, then bent and kissed her brow.
And Dakota let him.
“Tell me what happened,” Barber whispered.
“You first,” Dakota insisted.
“No way, doll.”
Rolling her eyes, Dakota said, “I fell down some stairs, that’s all.”
So she didn’t plan to tell Barber her suspicions? For whatever reason, that made Simon feel better.
“Uh-huh.” Barber continued to hold her in a far too familiar way. “Try again.”
Seeking his help, Dakota looked at Simon in exasperation.
He peeled Bonnie’s arms away and urged her into a chair. She fell back, sunk into the cushions, and looked ready to pass out.
“Now.” He faced Barber. “You said you were jumped?”
“Yep. Three guys.”
“Are you hurt?” Dakota asked.
“A little banged up.” He smoothed her hair. “But not nearly as much as you.”
Fed up with all the cooing, Simon put his arm around Dakota and hauled her in to his side—away from Barber. “You chased them off?”
“Wish I could tell it that way,” Barber said. He made a point of noting Simon’s possessive hold, then moved to the chair where Bonnie sat. He put a hand on her shoulder, maybe to help keep her there, or maybe to reassure her. Simon wasn’t sure. “I was holding my own, probably broke the jaw on one of them, but then the cops showed up and they hightailed it out of there.”
Dakota looked from Simon to Barber. “Did you recognize…that is, do you know who it was?”
“Sorry.” He absently patted Bonnie as she mumbled about something. “They wore ski masks.”
Simon looked down at Dakota. “I don’t believe in coincidences.”
“Right.” She let out a breath. “Me, either.”
Barber eyed them both. “I already know that Dakota tangled with more than the stairs, so how about some details?”
Putting on a bright smile, Dakota said, “I do believe this is the perfect opening to coffee.”
Simon shook his head. “You would think so.” But he had to agree. “Let’s all go into the kitchen. I’ll make the coffee and we can compare stories. Maybe it’ll help the police. Maybe not.”
Bonnie fought her way off the chair, stumbled, and fell into Barber. “Doesn’t anyone care what happened to me?”
“Course we do, darlin’.” Holding her upright, Barber looked at Simon in accusation. “Jesus, man, you could have warned me.”
Before Simon could reply, Dakota said, “I did.” And then, to Simon’s surprise, she joined Barber in helping Bonnie to the kitchen. “The coffee will help to sober her up.”
One strange predicament after another, Simon thought. Maybe life with Dakota would always be this way.
Life? He shook his head at himself and trailed behind the others. “Dakota thinks coffee is the cure-all for everything.”
“That she does,” Barber agreed.
“I can promise you one thing.” Dakota looked over her shoulder at Simon and winked. “It can’t hurt.”
In that moment, Simon knew he was in trouble. Even in such a ridiculous situation, Dakota impressed him with her poise, amazed him with her control, and made him proud of her for her kindness.
Mallet wanted her. Barber did, too. For all he knew, there was a man around every damn corner just waiting for a chance with her.
Yet she’d chosen him.
She was an incredible woman. Maybe too incredible to ever let go.
“YOU didn’t tell me he was a fighter.”
Marvin Dream glanced at his moronic friend sitting in the front seat, and his temper got the better of him. He punched him in the back of the head, and when that didn’t take the edge off his anger, he did it again and again.
Unfortunately for Marvin, violence only spurred him toward more violence. He liked it. He fed off it.
Cowering, the other man cried out. “What’d
I do? What? Stop it.” He ducked, trying to avoid Marvin’s rage. Blood trickled from his already-injured ear.
But Marvin couldn’t stop.
The driver swerved, cursed.
And Marvin realized that the cops might notice them if they drove crazy. That helped him regain his control, and he retreated to his seat in the back of the SUV.
“I’m bleedin’ again,” the other man accused in a whine as he rubbed his sleeve over his ear. He snuffled and hunched his shoulders, and cast a wary eye into the backseat at Marvin.
Jesus, Marvin thought. He hated gutless sheep who couldn’t take a hit. No one ever stood up to him. No one ever dared.
Except Dakota.
She’d not only stood up to him, she’d kicked him in the face, left him, divorced him….
His rage burned bright again, and he burst out, “Fucking idiot, I didn’t know he was a fighter, now did I? He’s a long-haired freak in a band. He plays a goddamned guitar.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it, Marv.”
“Shut up.” Marvin shoved himself into the corner of the vehicle, staring blindly out the window, stewing over his anger, and remembering.
He knew he’d grown obsessed over Dakota, but she was the most elusive woman he’d ever known. The longer he went without her, the more he wanted her. Over and over in his mind, he remembered his last night with her.
How she’d fought him.
How he’d taken her anyway.
His breath hitched in stirring excitement. He wanted to taste her again. He needed to feel her under him, struggling, cursing….
But she’d moved on to other men. Too many other men. Tonight, while he’d lurked in the shadows, anonymous and unnoticed, Dakota had joined the band onstage. As if she no longer feared anyone or anything, she’d strutted her stuff in one hell of a show.
He’d seen every little detail. The flex of her strong thigh muscles accentuated by the clinging dress. The bead of sweat that ran down her chest and between her tits. How her long hair danced around those too-proud shoulders.
She’d deliberately made him wild to have her back.
With a sound of disgust, the driver interrupted Marvin’s thoughts, saying, “I should have gigged that fucking musician for busting my jaw.”
Marvin barely managed to keep the reins on his temper. “I don’t want him dead, you asshole.” His hands tightened into fists and he continued to stare out the window. “The cops will blow off a mugging, especially outside a bar. But a murder’s altogether different. They won’t let that go without a lot of digging. And I don’t need that kind of hassle right now.”
No, all he needed was Dakota back where she belonged. With him, tied to him, where he could control her. Thanks to Barnaby’s cowardice, he’d found her again. He wouldn’t let her get away this time.
That fantasy redirected his anger and gave him time to think.
To lessen their odds of being caught, they’d driven to Harmony separately, then hooked up to ride together to the bar. They hadn’t used his car—he wasn’t stupid. If anyone caught the license plates, they wouldn’t lead to him and neither of his cronies had the cojones to point the finger at him.
They knew he’d kill without remorse.
The driver pulled over to the crowded convenience store so Marvin could reclaim his sports car. He got out, but instead of walking away, he tapped on the passenger-side window of the SUV.
Still holding his bleeding ear and looking pathetic, his friend rolled down the window.
Marvin gave him a friendly slap on the face. “Go home. No bars, no women. I mean it. I don’t want either of you to fuck around or get into any trouble.”
“All right.”
Nodding, Marvin said, “You did good. Thanks.”
Both men grinned at him, grabbing at the small token of appreciation like starving dogs.
His smile frozen, Marvin walked away before he got sick. Or enraged.
Once in his own car, he dialed his cell phone. Barnaby answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“Thanks to me, you should be hearing from your darling stepdaughter soon.”
“Marvin?” The voice went gruff with suspicion and alarm. “What the hell did you do now?”
Stupid Barnaby. He thought himself so ruthless with his gambling habit and occasional fits of temper, but he didn’t have the guts it took to play real hardball. In fact, if he hadn’t taken matters into his own hands, Barnaby would still be married to that prissy, complaining bitch and living in middle-class squalor.
“I just offered the gal a little inspiration, that’s all.”
Marvin heard a gulp. “Did you…?”
“Kill her?” He laughed at the thought. “There are a lot of things I want to do to Dakota, but offing her isn’t one of them. Not yet anyway. Not till I get my fill.”
“Haven’t you done enough?” Barnaby snarled, and that made Marvin laugh.
“You have balls, Barnaby. I’m impressed.” His voice hardened. “But don’t shove aside the blame. You owe me big-time. We both know this is the only way you’ll be able to pay, so don’t blow it or the next time I visit, it won’t just be your furniture I break.”
“I accept my part in this mess.”
“Lighten up, man. You should be hearing from Dakota soon.” His ex-wife was nothing if not protective of others. Look at how she’d gone running back to that bitch mother of hers. Marvin shook his head. “When you hear from her, take the credit and she’ll hand the fighter over to you.”
Barnaby didn’t ask for what he should take credit. He said only, “You sound sure of yourself.”
“I always am.” Marvin closed his phone and tossed it on the leather seat beside him. Dakota might think herself tough, but when it came right down to it, he knew she was still just a sad, lonely, and scared little girl.
She couldn’t bear to see anyone hurt, especially not one of her few friends. She’d deliver Simon, all right. Then Barnaby would get the money he owed. He’d get his debt cleared.
And Marvin would get so much more.
TWO hours of talking and comparing hadn’t lent them any more clarity to the situation. Barber only knew that there’d been three men of medium height, one of them muscular, the other two soft from overindulgence. He didn’t know what they wanted, only that they’d intended no good.
He and Simon both thought the incidents were related.
Dakota knew they were.
They both assumed it was Marvin behind the attacks.
Dakota didn’t have a single doubt.
While the two of them chewed over possibilities, she acted blasé, but she knew what she had to do. And soon. She wouldn’t let Barber be hurt. She wouldn’t let anyone be hurt because of her.
In the two hours that they talked, Bonnie started to sober enough to become a bigger pain in the butt. She alternately wanted to cry on Simon, make out with him, or accuse him.
And when she wasn’t doing that, she stayed busy glaring at Dakota and calling her names that were too incomprehensible to make out.
It amazed Dakota that even after tying one on and surviving an assault, Bonnie still looked polished in a way Dakota could never be.
Her nylons weren’t torn. Not a speck of dirt marred her pale skin. Her dress fit impeccably. Other than missing her lipstick and her hair now hanging loose, Bonnie looked the same as she did when she’d started the night. If she’d keep her mouth shut and sit still, it’d be hard to know she was drunk.
That Simon wore only his flannel pants hadn’t gone unnoticed by Bonnie. She’d spent more time gazing longingly at him than drinking the coffee that Barber kept putting in front of her.
Dakota tried to ignore Bonnie’s fascination with Simon, but it wasn’t easy. Knowing that she’d come running to Simon, and knowing that Simon had once cared enough to spend five years of his life with the woman, worked on Dakota’s temper.
Just as the earliest rays of sunrise crawled through the window, Bonn
ie seemed to fall asleep. She even started to snore.
Barber half smiled at her, then glanced at Simon. “Think she’ll remember any of this?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her drunk before.”
“I don’t think anyone was trying to hurt her. She was just with me.”
“And you’re Dakota’s friend.”
Barber nodded. “Marvin’s a real pain in the ass. He’s continued to harass her since the divorce. Slashed car tires, rocks through a window, a lot of chicken-shit stuff like that.”
“No way to prove it’s him?”
“Not so far. The thing is, he doesn’t much like for Dakota to have friends, but he knows we’re close. He’s seen her onstage with me.” Barber rubbed at his now bristly chin. “A while back, he was hanging out at this bar where we had a week run. He’d sit in the audience and wait for her.”
Dakota could feel Simon watching her, but she gave her attention to her coffee mug. She didn’t want him to know how Marvin affected her.
“What came of it?” Simon asked.
“He hassled me a few times,” Dakota admitted. “He likes to intimidate people.”
“Especially you?”
She shrugged. “Maybe. He’d wait until I was alone in the hall, or he’d slip into the back room with me. Then he’d try to crowd me. He’d say a few veiled threats, make a few threatening promises. That sort of thing.”
Simon looked at Barber, who said, “I didn’t realize what was going on at first.”
Just remembering it made Dakota’s stomach turn. “He could never follow through because it was a public place. Marvin can punk out some people, but not a packed bar where half the men there would take pleasure in a brawl.”
“So he finally went away?” Simon asked.
Barber nodded. “After I had a talk with him.”
That was news to Dakota. She looked up to find Barber watching her, too. “What did you do?” she asked.
“I told him if he touched you, I’d take him apart.”
She sucked in a breath, then shoved back her chair. “You never told me.”
“No, I didn’t.”
Flattening her hands on the table, Dakota leaned toward him. “You had no business doing that.”