by Lisa Childs
With his chiseled features and dark hair, his resemblance to Logan and Parker was uncanny. It was as if they were triplets instead of twins. But his mother wasn’t Penny Payne, which was his loss on more than one count. Penny was amazing. And her children resented Nicholas for being evidence of their late father’s betrayal of their mother’s love and loyalty.
While Candace had once wanted to be part of the Payne family herself, she didn’t envy Nicholas Rus. And it didn’t matter to Penny that Candace didn’t have any Payne blood; she’d included her as family. Like she had the Kozminskis…
Special Agent Rus settled into the chair behind the desk while gesturing for her to take one in front of it. “Why didn’t you report this last night?”
“I don’t know…” She’d been cold and dazed and Garek had rushed her off with Milek. “Everything happened so quickly. And the Kozminskis were there.”
“Did you think they’d called?”
She nearly laughed at the thought. “That’s unlikely…”
“Why?”
“You know their history.”
“It’s history,” Rus repeated.
She knew that. But for some reason she hadn’t been able to let it go. She could believe Milek had changed. But she hadn’t been willing to believe Garek had. And apparently with good reason; he hadn’t.
“You’re in law enforcement,” Candace said. “You know how often offenders repeat.”
“So you’re saying the Kozminskis attacked you?” he asked, and he picked up a pen as if ready to take down notes. He hadn’t taken any earlier—when she’d given him the time and location of her attack.
It was almost as if he’d already known when and where it had happened. Maybe Garek or Milek had called it in. But then why had no one contacted her? She’d been the victim. Not that she’d seen enough of her attacker to make a positive identification.
She shook her head. “No, the Kozminskis didn’t attack me. But Garek’s working for Viktor Chekov again. Even his sister’s convinced he’s gone back to his old life.”
His brow furrowed with obvious confusion. “What does any of that have to do with you?”
Candace wasn’t certain either. But Stacy had thought it had everything to do with her. That he’d returned to his criminal ways because Candace hadn’t given him a chance. But that was ridiculous…
“Really,” Rus persisted. “Why would any of them—the Kozminskis or Viktor Chekov—want to hurt you?”
She considered the question for a moment before she answered honestly, “I don’t know.”
She was certain Garek didn’t want her around, though. Or she’d been certain at the club. Then he had shown up—with her key—at her apartment the night before. Or early this morning. And he’d kissed her, like he’d kissed her that night two weeks ago. So she wasn’t sure what he wanted with her.
But he’d definitely wanted her for a moment. She’d felt his erection against her belly. Her pulse quickened remembering his body lying heavily on hers and then his mouth on hers. She’d wanted him, too.
If he hadn’t pulled away…
Rus was speaking again. “Isn’t it more likely someone saw you in the club—someone you arrested while you were with River City PD—and that person followed you to attack you out of vengeance?”
That did make more sense. But the way Garek had treated her in the club—as if he wanted her nowhere near it—had roused her suspicions. He didn’t want her around because he didn’t want her discovering whatever he was up to. What crime had he committed or was about to commit for Viktor Chekov?
“Did you recognize anyone in the club?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Sure, faces looked familiar. That kind of place attracts criminals. More drugs and sex are sold there than alcohol.”
“Allegedly,” Rus said.
Alleged because no one had ever been able to arrest Viktor Chekov for any of his numerous crimes.
“But nobody was looking at me like they recognized me.” Hell, she’d had someone hitting on her. That wouldn’t have happened, had he or anyone else known she’d once been a cop. “And I don’t remember arresting any of them either.”
“Do you remember everyone you’ve ever arrested?” Rus asked. “Because I don’t. But I’m pretty damn sure they all remember me.”
“Sure,” she admitted. “I’ve had my share of threats while I was on the force. But I haven’t been with River City PD for years.”
Rus nodded. “Exactly. So it’s more likely some of the perps you arrested would be out on parole now.”
Her head had begun to pound, maybe from lack of sleep, maybe from frustration. “You sound convinced that this attack was about me.” Or he was trying really hard to convince her of that.
“It could have been random,” he acknowledged. “That’s a rough neighborhood.”
“That’s what Milek said,” she admitted.
“I’ll work both those angles,” he assured her.
Goose bumps lifted on her skin with a shiver of unease. Was Nicholas Rus the right agent to investigate corruption in River City? “But not Viktor Chekov?”
His brow furrowed as if the question confused him. “Why?” he asked. “Has he threatened you?”
“I’ve never met him.”
“Then why would he send someone after you?”
He probably wouldn’t have. So who had? Garek? Had he been trying to scare her away? A physical threat wouldn’t do that—only an emotional threat would. He should already know that, though.
“Forget it,” Candace said. “You don’t need to look into this at all. I’ll investigate on my own.”
“You’re not on the force anymore,” he reminded her. “You’re a bodyguard.”
She nodded. “Yes, I am.” And the body she was protecting now was her own. But it wasn’t really her body she needed to protect; it was her heart. “And you’re an FBI agent. This little assault is beneath your pay grade. I shouldn’t have bothered you with it.”
“I’m glad you did,” he said. “But why did you?”
She could have reported it to someone else. She still knew some officers on the force—the ones that had survived Rus’s corruption arrests.
“If the Kozminskis are involved with Chekov, it’ll reflect badly on Payne Protection just as Logan is getting ready to franchise,” she said. “So it needs to be handled with discretion.”
“What does?” Rus asked. “It sounds to me like Garek saved you and Milek helped you home. How would that reflect badly on Payne Protection?”
From that perspective she should have thanked Garek and his brother. But even their sister thought Garek had gone back to his criminal ways. Since Agent Rus wouldn’t investigate, she would.
As if he’d read her mind, Rus said, “I’ll handle the investigation. I’ll check into recent paroles, other assaults in that area—see what we can turn up on security cameras.”
For some reason, she doubted he would turn up any suspects. But she stood up and said, “Thank you.” Then she headed toward the door.
He was there, opening it for her. Penny Payne may not have raised him, but he had the manners she’d ingrained in her children. But then he gave her a strange look, and in a deep and ominous tone advised, “Be careful, Candace.”
Instead of sounding like concern, his comment sounded like a threat. The chill rushed back over her, lifting those goose bumps on her skin again. Was there anyone she could trust?
*
“I trusted you to protect her,” Garek said as he slammed the door to Milek’s place. It was a converted warehouse space with high metal ceilings, and bare concrete floors so every sound was magnified.
Milek groaned as the crash reverberated in his already pounding head. He reached for the pharmacy bag on his kitchen counter, grateful now he’d filled the prescription he’d considered refusing. He was already in so much pain he hadn’t thought his injuries would bother him at all—once he’d had his broken ribs wrapped.
“What the hel
l happened to you?” Garek asked.
“Protecting Candace,” he murmured through his swollen lips. “You’re welcome.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Garek asked.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and held up the smashed screen. “It took a beating, too.”
Garek uttered a stream of curses followed by a heartfelt apology. “I’m sorry. I’m so damn sorry for dragging you into all of this.”
“Nicholas Rus dragged you first,” Milek said. “But even then I’m surprised you’d go back—surprised you’d risk it.”
Garek shrugged. “I need to do this. I could have taken Chekov out years ago—could have given him up to the authorities and gotten myself out of jail time.”
“And he would have killed us all.”
His brother lightly touched his swollen face, but Milek flinched at even slight pressure on his bruises. Yeah, he was glad he’d filled that prescription.
Garek warned him, “He still might kill us.”
“We’re not scared kids anymore,” Milek reminded him. “We can handle Chekov. We can protect ourselves.”
Garek raised a brow. “Really?”
“Hey, you should see the other guy.”
Garek breathed a sigh of relief. “You got him? You took care of him.”
“Not me,” Milek admitted. “You should see what Candace did to him, though. She clawed the hell out of his neck. We’ll be able to track him down easily enough if he’s one of Chekov’s men.”
Garek shook his head. “Damn that woman. If the guy hadn’t wanted to kill her before, he’s going to want to now for sure.”
“Candace can take care of herself.” Milek tore open the pharmacy bag. “Hell, she can take care of herself better than I can. You don’t need to worry about her.”
“That man is still out there,” Garek said. “I’m going to worry about her until we find him.”
Milek shrugged. “It doesn’t matter if we find him. If Chekov’s behind it, he’ll just send someone else.” He hadn’t agreed to help Garek just because he was his brother. He knew Chekov had gotten away with his crimes for too long. “We have to stop him.”
Garek nodded. “I just hope we can stop him before Candace gets hurt again.”
Or worse…
Chapter 8
While Garek loved his brother, it was Candace that he didn’t want taking a beating because of him—like she nearly had in the alley.
He had to keep her safe. He had to stay the hell away from her—which wouldn’t be easy since he was pretty damn sure she was following him. He peered into his rearview mirror but couldn’t catch another glimpse of her car.
She was good. But he knew she was back there. He’d noticed her as he was leaving Milek’s place for the second time that day. Of course she would have tracked him down there; she’d known he was worried about his brother.
He picked up his cell and punched in the number for the phone he’d brought back to Milek’s after tracking him down the first time. He’d returned the second time to bring him the replacement phone and some food.
“That was quick,” Milek answered. His voice was clear.
“You didn’t take the drugs yet?” he asked.
Milek sighed. “I thought I should eat first. Thanks for the soup.”
“How bad you hurting?” He wished back the question the minute he uttered it. He knew Milek was hurting badly. The man had lost everything before he’d even realized it was his.
All stubborn pride, Milek stoically replied, “I’m fine.”
“Fine enough to take my bodyguard shift with Tori?”
Milek sighed. “The girl isn’t in danger of anything but breaking a nail texting.”
“No, she isn’t in any danger,” Garek agreed. “But her protection duty is what’s getting me close to Viktor. And I need to get close to him if he’s ever going to get caught.”
But he didn’t want Candace close to the mobster. He didn’t want Candace anywhere near Viktor Chekov. So he couldn’t lead her back there.
“Since you need to be close to Viktor, shouldn’t you work your own shift?” Milek asked—speaking slowly as if Garek were the one who’d taken the beating and was confused.
“Candace is following me.”
“And you figured out she was tailing you?” Milek asked. Then he uttered what sounded like a victory cry. Or maybe given his injuries it was just a cry. “You didn’t realize I was tailing you that night I caught you meeting with Rus.”
Garek smiled. Since they were kids, Milek had been trying to get one over on him. He definitely had that night, so Garek expected to hear about it often.
“No, I didn’t make you,” he admitted. That had been Candace’s fault, however. She continued to distract him.
“I’ll take your shift,” Milek agreed. “What are you going to do about her?”
“Lead her as far from Chekov as I can…”
He wanted to lead her back to his place—not to his apartment but to the home he’d bought before Rus had pulled him into the undercover assignment. He hadn’t moved into it yet because he couldn’t risk Chekov finding out Garek had bought a house in the ’burbs. The mobster would know for certain there was nothing left of the corruptible kid Garek had once been. And he would never let down his guard enough to reveal anything incriminating. Hell, he’d probably fire him—at the least. Kill him at the most.
So he kept driving and acting as if he had no idea she was back there. While he didn’t see her again, he knew he hadn’t lost her.
*
“Where the hell is he going?” Candace murmured to herself. Fortunately she had a full tank of gas because he had led her all over the city for most of the afternoon. Night was nearly about to fall now.
What was he doing? Casing places for Chekov? He never went inside any building, never did more than pull his SUV to the curb outside of a building.
Did he know she was following him?
She shook her head. There was no way. She was too good. But he was good, too. She remembered how he’d easily followed Logan and Parker. And they were the ones who’d taught her how to spot and lose a tail.
But Garek wasn’t following her. And he was too arrogant to consider she might be able to follow him. No, he hadn’t spotted her. She was sure of it.
Each time he stopped, she picked up her phone and took a photo of the building. If something got robbed in it, she would have dated and time-stamped proof he’d been there. That had to be what he was doing for Chekov—something involving his breaking and entering and safecracking skills. He certainly wasn’t protecting the man’s daughter.
And despite what he’d told Logan, he wasn’t in love with Tori Chekov either. If he was, he wouldn’t have kissed Candace like he had the night before. His body wouldn’t have reacted so physically and passionately to the closeness of hers.
Her body reacted now, flushing with heat, as she could almost feel the weight of him on top of her. But the image that flashed through her mind was from weeks ago—his naked body moving over hers, moving inside hers.
A soft moan slipped through her lips. She had never felt what he’d made her feel. So much…
Passion.
Desperation.
So much pleasure.
It had overwhelmed her. He had overwhelmed her.
The slamming of a car door jerked her from those intimate memories. He’d actually gotten out of his vehicle this time. She glanced around, trying to determine where they were. It was an industrial area of the city.
No jewelry stores or museums here. But maybe someone warehoused their art collection in one of these buildings. Maybe that was Chekov’s target. She needed to investigate; she needed evidence to prove Garek had returned to his old life.
She wasn’t certain she would share that evidence with Special Agent Rus. But she needed the evidence for herself—so she would stop wanting Garek.
She opened her door and stepped onto the street. Snow had begun to fall. But the flakes were h
uge and sparse. They floated softly from the sky with no breeze to blow them about, and it was warm enough again that the snow which had fallen the night before had melted from the asphalt and the concrete sidewalks. This wasn’t the revitalized part of the city, but someone had decorated a few of the straggly trees along the sidewalk, stringing twinkle lights over the bare branches.
So she couldn’t use his footprints to track him; she had to keep him in her sight. But he moved quickly, as if concerned someone might have followed him.
Had he noticed her tailing him? But Garek always moved with the speed and silence of a thief—either because it was in his genetics or he’d learned it so young from his father.
So she hastened her step, too. But he turned a corner and disappeared from her sight.
“Damn it…”
Had he gone inside one of those buildings? She needed to determine which one and why. She hustled up to where he’d turned. But he hadn’t gone inside a building. He’d gone into an alley.
Night had already fallen between the buildings, casting the alley in darkness. She couldn’t see inside—couldn’t see if he’d slipped into some back entrance of a building. Or if he’d simply walked through it on his way to another street.
She drew in a deep breath and stepped into the shadows. But she’d only gone a few steps when strong arms wrapped tightly around her. She lifted her elbow, intending to drive it into his ribs.
But those arms spun her around, as if they were doing some kind of strange, fast-paced dance. She didn’t need to figure out any steps, though, because he lifted her from her feet and propelled her back.
Pressed against the wall, she couldn’t back away from him. And she couldn’t move forward, either, because his body was there. His chest pressed against hers, his hips pushed against hers—like when he’d fallen on top of her on her couch.
“Didn’t you learn your lesson last night?” Garek asked.
She’d learned the closeness of his body ignited a fire inside her. Desire overwhelmed her, claiming her common sense. She knew he wasn’t good for her—he would only break her heart. She couldn’t fall for him.
“You could have been attacked again,” he continued. His body was tense against hers. Maybe with anger. It was in his silvery eyes as he stared down at her. But then his pupils dilated, leaving just a thin rim of silver outlining the black. And he wasn’t angry anymore.