by Zoey Parker
Luke is moving to me, but I hold up a hand, backing around the coffee table, careful not to slip and tumble. That wouldn’t help here.
I need to look strong, capable, and perfectly clear-headed with my words and decision.
“You go, run off and get that magic pill for me.” I make a shooing motion with my hand, lowering it at his slashing brows and scowl.
Luke looks fierce. I swear a muscle jumps in his hard jaw. His eyes are chiseled bits of dark green, slicing through me, analyzing me after that display.
But I’m not putting on a show for fun. Everything I’ve said is what I mean. He should run off and return with the morning-after pill. Lord knows a baby thrown into our lives would only make matters worse. No innocent should be tainted by any of this falsehood.
“You want my baby,” he drawls, his voice thick with his displeasure and frustration. “Is that what you’re telling me, Lily, you want my child? Because if that’s the case, we seriously need to have a chat—”
“No!” I gasp, not caring I’ve interrupted him.
My fists clenching in front of me, I spit out, “I don’t want your baby. I don’t even want this stupid, fake relationship. I never wanted any of it, not like this.”
And then because I feel the tears coming, I scamper around his furniture for the front door, already planning to hoof it, call for a cab once I’m far enough from his beautiful condo, his gated community, and his world.
Grabbing my discarded stockings by our haphazardly tossed shoes, I hurry to slip on my heels.
“And forget the pill,” I snap over my shoulder, voice cracking on a sob. “I’ll pick it up myself.” I still don’t feel better, so out of malicious spite, I call back. “I can’t see why Detective Dayton is the bad guy here. He’s the one searching for criminals to arrest, hold them responsible for killing someone. Maybe I should help him—” I cut off.
Luke is on me in a few seconds, a few strides.
He presses me to the front door, hands slapping the light-colored wood, his eyes wild, his voice icy. “You will not.”
Pushing his face into mine, leveling our stares, he growls, “Do you know what you’re saying? Can you hear yourself? I swear, Lily, I pegged you for being smarter than this.”
When I try to talk, he takes a sharp, warning breath. “Listen carefully, so you can’t say I didn’t tell you. My family is off-limits. Detective Dayton, he’s threatening that. He’s nothing but a salivating dog sniffing and barking up the wrong fucking tree.
“You think he’s such a good guy? A good cop? That picture I showed you is attached to an article. The guy used to work for undercover narcotics in St. Louis. His reputation was in question after his partner was killed, and he survived the so-called gang hit. Next thing he’s here, in Potentia, supposedly transferred here on his request.
“Well I call bullshit. Guys like him will knock anyone down on their way to the top. He’s not going to hurt my family, Lily, and you’re most certainly not going to help him do that. Am I clear?”
I nod, frightened. I sniffle.
Luke’s gaze darts over my face, his scowl present, his anger slamming off him in waves. But he pushes back with a grunted “Let’s go.”
The drive to my apartment is in silence. No music to cut through the tension between us. I realize halfway through that I forgot to collect my panties. I press my thighs together, and I sneak a peek at Luke’s shadowy profile.
Slowing to a stop in front of my building’s entrance, I’m ready to leap out, but I hold fast, hand releasing my seat belt. Luke is keeping his eyes dead straight, his hands on the ten and two o’clock and the engine humming, seat warmer alive under me.
“I wouldn’t hurt your family,” I say, pushing past the guilt. After the fear of his crazed reaction to my threat of seeking out Art Dayton, I’m left wading through the worry of having lost his confidence.
Our super short time as a couple might have come to an end, but I don’t want to lose my job for it. And I don’t want to lose Luke, an otherwise easygoing boss, to my very raw heartbreak and stupid mouth.
“I would never hurt you and your family. I owe you more than a job, Mr. Hanley—Luke. I owe you a life in this wonderful, peaceful town.” Trusting I’ve said enough, I leave the rest behind me, exiting the car and closing the door after me.
Luke doesn’t drive off until I’m in the foyer and standing by the elevators. Then the tires scritch and he’s zipping away, back to his world and his life.
Chapter 11
Luke
I jerk awake with Lily’s name on my lips.
But it’s Russ staring down at me. Russ and Keith, and they’re sharing identical looks—a cross of humor and curiosity. Russ nudges Keith to the side, the taller, thickset man lumbering to the blinds and rotating them open.
“Fuck,” I cuss, shielding my face from the sun, my body flipping to the side to give my back to the master bedroom’s bay window. “Seriously?” I holler.
There are footsteps, thudding ones, and then Russ mutters, “Wait downstairs.” Then there’s a schick and the damned sunlight fades to a faint glow, the room caught in day and my post-drunken despair.
Yeah, I’m embarrassed to even think it. I drank myself to sleep. It’s unlike me, but there it is, hanging in the air, the thick musk unmistakable.
I sniff my sheets. Shifting up to prop against my pillows, I dig around to draw out the emptied bottle my foot bumps. It’s emptied because, as I flip to confirm it, there’s a large wet circle near the foot of the bed from the upended bottle.
“How the fuck did you get in?” I’m on Russ as soon as I note his gaze on the bed stain.
It’s mortifying enough to admit I slipped up, but to reveal this part of me to a witness is too much. Hands bunching up the fitted sheet, I snap, “Any day now. It’s not like I don’t have a life.”
“The housekeeper let us in an hour ago.” Russ blinks up to meet my eyes.
“Ellen?”
Russ nods. “She only cleaned up downstairs. She said she knew you were still sleeping and didn’t want to make any noise cleaning the rooms up here.”
Ellen was my father’s long-time housekeeper. She’s been as much a fixture of the Hanley family as a blood relative. I love the woman, but she’s loyal to my father and they often tag-team against me.
I can’t imagine what Ellen will be heading back to report. It’s not like I can cover the stench in here. I might as well have poured booze everywhere.
Shit. Guess I have to check everything and make sure I didn’t have any other ‘accidents’ like the one that would see my mattress to the garbage once I could get my head together.
My thoughts can’t sit still. I’m jumpy as fuck, my left eye twitching, my mouth cotton-dry and my heart palpitating like it’s readying to rip out of my chest and run off on me. The bloody muscle probably wants to chase Lily down…
No, I’m not even going there.
“She said she’ll be back later in the afternoon to clean up.”
I shake my head, flabbergasted. “I can’t believe she’s still coming here.” And because I’m a little wonky and off my game, I mutter, more loudly than I intend, “I would have run away from this shit sty.”
Remembering I have company, I look to Russ.
Russ turns his head as I give him the stink eye. He shuffles uncomfortably.
Good. Let him be nervous. This is how things are supposed to be around me, how things are supposed to be between us. I’m his fucking boss.
Just like you were Lily’s boss…
The taunting voice in my head awakens the beast of a hangover clouding behind my eyes, hot, heavy and powerful. I raise the heels of my palms to my temples, fighting pressure from the inside with pressure from outside. Closing my eyes, I grind my teeth, and concentrate on imagining the pain poofing away.
I hadn’t noticed that he walked away, but Russ is speaking over me now and his voice grates like nails down a chalkboard. I’m preparing to tell him to “shut his fu
cking mouth” when I open my eyes and look down at the tray he’s magically procured and holding out.
I grab at the bottle of ibuprofen, and dumping three pills into my sweaty palm, I dry swallow them, but drink the water when the pills feel stuck to the side of my throat.
Russ quietly steps back with the tray, now holding the emptied glass of water.
I reach for my cell, face down on my nightstand. It’s well past noon. Of course I slept to a crazy hour. Not only am I dealing with a raging headache, but now I’m riding the rising waves of a foul mood.
I’m hardly one to plan every minute of my day, but I do keep a to-do list handy, and I planned a lot for this Saturday.
Somewhere in my foggy, pain-addled mind, I recall making an appointment to meet with Russ on the intelligence mission I sent him out on last night once he confirmed Art Dayton’s existence.
Before last night, the detective was none of my concern. He was another cop out there to evade, elude, handle, but now, after what he’s done, I consider him a threat to the Hanley legacy. And I have yet to see the fucker face to face.
The bastard even got to Lily, convinced her into spewing the crap she was tossing my way last night.
Lily…darling, naïve…sexy-as-fuck Lily.
Well, I wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore. She made it clear she didn’t want this, and I’m not going to force myself on her. I’d have to figure out a plan B now that that alibi was out the window, but whatever it’s going to be, I would have to keep it from unsettling Lily’s life any more than I have thus far.
“What do you have for me, Russ?”
“Maurice’s been spotted.” Russ says. It’s a bit of good news until he adds, “But as soon as he surfaced, he went under again.”
“The strip club needs its owner, and I need to beat some fucking sense into that man.” My tone is clipped. “Find him, Russ. And then give me the news I want to hear.”
Russ dips his head, a flop of his mussed black hair falling over his forehead. His dark eyes are sharp though, and I sit up for what he has to say next.
“Your girl had a visitor.”
I tighten my lips on Russ’ labelling Lily as mine. She had been my girl, for just about twenty-four hours, and then something remarkable happened— a first in my life since early elementary when most boys and girls were in the cootie phase: Lily left me.
“Female, male?” I choke on that last past.
“A woman,” Russ says.
Relief swarms me, but I refuse to admit to myself why.
Russ proceeds with a description of Lily’s guest: Caucasian, redhead, tall, slim, friendly with Lily. I don’t care about any other woman though. I’m impatient for him to get back to Lily, but clearly I’ll have to prompt him.
“What of Miss Erickson?”
“She seemed all right. Moody. The other woman had her wrapped in a hug at one point.”
My chest squeezed, my temples throbbing anew with the knowledge that it was me. I’d caused Lily to cry.
Unless something else happened since I dropped her off last night.
“What were they doing?” I asked that question too quickly. At least Russ’ expression doesn’t give away whether or not he noticed.
“Jogging, if I had to guess by their gear.”
“Jogging?” Huh? So Lily jogged? How come I didn’t know that? She was delightfully curvy. A little fleshier than the chicks I date—women like thin, tall Angelina.
“I didn’t follow them though,” Russ reports. “Keith called with an interesting story. I thought it more pertinent, but if you’d like, I can head back out there.”
“No,” I fan at the air. Why have him believing I care about Lily more than I should?
I can name a few other uses of Russ’ expertise. I pay handsomely enough for his loyalty. Sending him after a beautiful woman who both frustrates and arouses me is not the best use of his time.
Besides, Lily isn’t my girl as he put it. She never was and she never will be, not when she made it so clear she thinks so little of me. I should be keeping my distance, working her out of my system or some shit.
Damn. This hangover is lethal.
The headache of doom calmed at the painkillers, but apparently the guilt’s having an effect on me. I must look pitiful enough for Russ to break his usual decorum. He’s asking after my health.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, waving off his concern. And to prove how fine of an ass I am, I rush out of bed, standing weakly.
If Russ hadn’t been there, I would drop. Only now we both fall over, the tray thudding on the carpet.
Keith’s footsteps sound quick and heavy up the stairs and down the hall. His big frame fills the doorway. By that point Russ has successfully pulled his body off of mine. He scrambles to stand, telling Keith, “We’ve got it.”
I can’t bring myself to look in Keith’s eyes. He disappears from the door and his clunky steps fade into the background.
“Did he pull a gun out?”
Russ shrugs. “He’s spooked.”
I peel myself off the floor, using the bed as support to drag myself up over it.
Russ’ shoulders rise a bit. He seems to be puffing out of his black leather jacket and dark gray camo hoodie combo. What’s got him bushing up worse than a cat’s tail?
As if he heard my though, Russ continues. “It’s Dayton. He’s tailing Keith as well.”
My jaw sits hard on that.
“Dayton’s good.” Russ again voices what I had been thinking. “He’s searching for a weak link.”
“Has he found it?” I snap, my eyes narrowing. If Keith sells me out, I’ll kill him.
“No. Keith’s clean as far as I can tell.”
“That’s comforting.” I stare him down, the silence heavy. I reflect, realizing there’s little reason to alienate Russ. He’s been loyal, and I have yet to doubt him. In fact, he’s my most trusted man. “I want this to end as quickly as possible. Do you have anything we could use?”
Russ stoops to pick up the tray and glass, his hand reaching out for the ibuprofen bottle. It’s closer to me so I bend to get it, passing it to him. Russ thanks me gruffly, but I nod for him to continue.
I know he has something on the son of a bitch putting me in this position with my men, with my family, with Lily...
“You were right about Dayton. He was pulled from the SLMPD for a reason, and all signs suggest it has to do with that narcotic sting gone bad.” Russ smirks. “Turns out there’s more to it than just a dead partner. There are some loose-lipped beat cops Dayton rubbed the wrong way, and one of them happens to be a second-generation blue blood.
“His father’s a captain in Internal Affairs. News travels and I got it on record that gang fight that killed Dayton’s partner also killed nine civilians.”
“Nine? Shit.” I massage a hand over my jaw. My brain is moving ahead, working out the pieces, but I listen to Russ, hear him out to the end.
“Those nine included five sex trafficked workers, their go-between madame, two johns, and the driver chauffeuring everyone around.” Russ’ information is music to my ears. I’ll have to give him a fat bonus check.
Russ tilts his head, the smile slipping. “It got me thinking. What else are they hushing up about Dayton? Someone up high had to have got him out quietly and put him in Potentia. He’s a man with bad enemies and good friends.”
“Guess I should have a word with Dayton then.” I stand, noting Russ’ foot sliding forward. I give him a stern look. He might have given me a huge jump on Dayton, but I am not about to be coddled by him.
“Let me dress and I’ll be with you and your man soon enough. There’s a lot for us to do.” And taking a glance over my shoulder at the bright sunlight fighting to get through the blinds, I say, “A lot to do, and so little time.”
Only Russ is alone when I meet him in my airy living space, dressed and ready to go.
“Keith?” I ask.
“I sent him to keep an eye on Erickson and her pretty f
riend.”
I pause, looking at Russ. “I never did ask, but when you were tailing Dayton into St. Louis, did you happen to stop by my sister’s place?”
My concern is for Julie. She likes him. And as far as I understand, Russ doesn’t feel the same for my kid sister. I can’t blame him. It’s hard dating the boss’s sister...and likely harder dating the boss.
I suddenly understand where Russ is coming from, and where Lily’s head might have been at last night. She probably only agreed to the alibi because she thought I was going to kill her or fire her.