Feeling his pain, she came around and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Walk me to my car so you can get home to Shalene. Make sure you tell her that I’m all for chicken parmigiana leftovers.”
“I’ll lock up and meet you at the door.”
Together she and Ranger left the gym, walking to her car parked on the street. “Thank you for walking me out.”
“Remember, if there’s anything you need, let me know.”
“I just need you to stay healthy.” She climbed into her car, giving him one last wave before driving away. What she wouldn’t give to see Moni standing next to him. He looked tired and she wondered if he was sleeping okay.
What she wouldn’t give to get her hands on the flash drive she had before the attack. The men must have found it where she’d hidden it in her pocket and unfortunately it was gone—and the evidence to put Max King away for a lifetime was also gone.
When the detectives had come to her hospital room to ask her questions about what she remembered, she didn’t mention King or the drive. She couldn’t trust anyone. If she mentioned what she had in her hands to the wrong person she would be as good as dead. If she told anyone that she blamed King for her attack she wouldn’t be safe either. If she pretended to not remember anything from that night it was her only chance for survival.
Life had been hell, looking over her shoulder at every sound. Every crack in the wood. Every suspicious face in the crowd. But if the attack was a message from King, she’d received it loud and clear.
There were times she’d been tempted to call Steam and tell him everything from her suspicions to the flash drive, but what could he do? He’d been chasing the drug cartel for years, taking out cells and the leaders. Recently, the kingpin, Dimitri Vallarta, was killed which put King in the leader role, making him even more powerful and dangerous.
Feeling anxious, she turned the music up louder, tapping her fingers to the song, something she did when her apprehension kicked in.
Her mind drifted to another time—a happier time when she and Daniel had met. He had smiled her direction and she had been a goner. They’d spent every day together. Falling in love. The world was their oyster and they were wild and free. When he’d asked her to marry him, she’d said yes, even if they would be apart while he was in the military. What she had known was that she loved him and wanted to spend her life with him.
But fate had other plans.
Parking on the street in front of her small house, she shut the engine off but didn’t get out. From her position she investigated the darkness, examined every shadow, looking in all the places where it was possible for someone to hide. This had become a ritual, and she couldn’t imagine ever going back to trusting that all would be okay.
Climbing out of her car, she waited, listening, but only heard cars on the busy street two blocks over. With her keys gripped tightly in her hand, she headed up the cobblestone walkway, biting her bottom lip. The porch light was off because she’d forgotten to change the bulb, and she knew better than to forget anything when it came to her safety. Suddenly, she was hypersensitive to every noise around her. The wind was blowing making the chimes ding. The dogs were barking in the neighbor’s yard. Thunder sounded in the distance.
She was almost to the door when she heard a twig break underfoot. Her breath stilled in her lungs. She didn’t waste a second thinking but lifted her keys. Inhaling a measured breath, she quickly turned. On instinct alone, she remembered everything she’d been taught by Ranger and swung her hand. She saw a flash of something as an arm came up, blocking the strike of the keys, but she was expecting his defensive action and brought her knee up, hitting him solid in the crotch. A millisecond and a grunt later, the man fell to his knees and slowly fell forward with his forehead against the concrete.
The headlights of a car feathered across the front of the house and she blew out a long, uneven breath. Backing up to the door to maintain distance, she blinked. What the hell? “Steam? What are you doing here?”
“I guess I deserved that for wrecking your wedding,” he groaned.
She hurried to unlock the door and switched on the light inside the house so she could see him better.
He was looking up at her with a narrowed gaze and a grim set to his jaw. “I need to ask you a couple of questions.” He pushed himself up from the concrete and straightened his T-shirt.
“I had no clue it was you. I heard a noise, then I saw a shadow and I—”
“Plowed me in the balls. But hey, it’s my fault. I didn’t mean to startle you.” He looked a little green.
“Are you okay?”
“I should be okay, if not I can apply for the church choir as a soprano.”
There was a glimpse of a smile on his expression which should have relieved her, but instead it angered her. She opened her mouth, ready to unleash, but when he shifted she spotted a drop of blood on his arm where she must have nicked him with the keys. “You’re bleeding.”
He swiped his hand across the cut, smearing the blood. “It’s just a scratch.”
She wrapped her arms around her waist, a tug of war happening inside her. A part of her wanted to demand that he leave, but another part felt responsible for hurting him, although a rugged lawman like him wouldn’t even flinch at something so minimal. “I’ll get you something for the bleeding.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“You need something.”
“No, I don’t,” he growled.
“Fine. Why are you here? This isn’t like you. You’re not drunk and there isn’t a wedding going on,” she snapped. If he thought she’d forgiven him, he was wrong.
He chuckled. “I have some questions about your case.”
Staring for a good three long seconds, she sighed. It was ridiculous for them to stand outside as if she couldn’t trust him—or trust herself around him. “Let’s go inside.” She turned and stepped into the house, waited for him to pass, and then closed the door.
There were some subtle differences in him since she’d seen him last. His thick dark hair was now peppered with strands of silver. There were a few new lines around his eyes and mouth, but the hands of time had been gentle on him. He was broader, stronger, yet there was a new reserve to him that she guessed would come with dealing with horrible things day in and out. Although she was still hurt with him that time couldn’t erase, there was no denying the sense of homecoming being near him. He’d once been her raft in every storm. Her happiness. So much more. Memories flooded her, untouched by time too. Years could pass and she’d never forget how she’d felt under his touch, under him. Making love for hours because they couldn’t get enough of each other.
Feeling vulnerable, she created some distance between them and watched him examine the pictures on the mantel. Some of them were from work events where she received awards. Several more were from vacations. Another was of her mother and father. He stuffed his hands into his front pockets and turned on his boots, their gazes clashing. Her heart beat so fast that she felt woozy.
The best thing for her was to help with his bloody arm then send him on his way…after she found out what questions he had for her.
Grabbing a clean towel from a drawer in the kitchen, she tossed it to him.
“You have a nice place here,” he said.
“Different than the cabin,” she said softly. “Hold the towel against the cut.”
“I think it stopped bleeding.”
“You said you needed to ask me a couple of questions.” Best to keep things on track before she allowed herself to roam further down memory lane.
“There has been a new discovery.” His eyes drifted to her scar.
Self-conscious, she tugged tendrils of hair down to hide the spot. With some hesitation lingering, she finally asked, “New discovery?” The blood spots on his T-shirt drew her attention. “You have blood on your shirt. If you hand it to me, I can try to get it out.”
He opened his mouth, probably to deny her request, but then one corner of h
is mouth played with a smile. “Nothing has changed. You’re still trying to take care of me.”
“Oh, I always thought it was the other way around.” She couldn’t falter under his smile. She couldn’t forget she’d built walls around her heart, not only from the evils in the world, but also from the one man who’d stolen her heart back when she was young and naive. “Let’s get one thing straight, everything has changed. I’m only being nice because as much as you deserved it, I shouldn’t have hit you. If you’re here thinking that there’s a chance—”
“Whoa!” He held up his hands. “I’m not here for personal reasons.” All remnants of the bittersweet smile were gone. He slipped out of the shirt and handed it over, but before she turned away, she caught a glimpse of wide, tanned chest and six-pack abs. He didn’t have an ounce of fat on his body. Never had. He didn’t spend hours in the gym but every morning he ran five miles. That was one thing she guessed had stayed the same. But as sexy as he was, her eyes were drawn to the deep, white scar on his chest.
“What happened?” She shouldn’t ask—didn’t need to ask—but the words spilled from her lips.
“I ran into a knife,” he said calmly.
This was a cruel reminder of what he did for a living.
Taking the shirt into the kitchen, she scrubbed the drops of crimson from the cotton with a fervor that had to do more with the odd sensations in her body and less about the spots that were easily coming clean.
She tugged her elastic from her hair and pulled chunks around to cover the scar. It wasn’t as if she cared what he thought, but she hated the look of pity people gave her. Grabbing two bottles of water, she came back with the shirt.
“Here you are.” She handed the items to him and he pulled the shirt over his head.
Seconds seemed to pass into minutes. Minutes seemed to turn into tortuous moments where she couldn’t draw a breath into her lungs.
“I’m sorry about Harry,” he said lightly.
“You said you weren’t here for personal reasons.” She crossed her arms over her chest hoping the beats of her heart slowed so she didn’t feel so faint.
“I think the air needs cleared.”
“That’s the past. It’s best that it’s left there.”
“Can we have a seat?”
“Sure.”
He eased into the cushion of the couch, monopolizing it with his broad back and frame. He made everything in the room appear smaller, and yet she hadn’t felt so safe in her own home in six months. His hands rested on his thighs. She’d always like his wide fingers, short, clean nails and the calluses that scraped her sensitive skin.
An image of him touching her, her back arching and her cries of need filling the air flashed through her.
He shifted, then swiped a hand down his broad, whiskered jaw, looking slightly uncomfortable under her stare. Or maybe he was just tired. The dark circles under his eyes made her think he hadn’t slept for a while.
“How are you? I saw you after the attack in your hospital room.”
She blinked. “You were there?” Suddenly butterflies were in her stomach and she was the uncomfortable one.
“Yes. I stopped in.”
“I-I guess I never thought…I mean, no one told me. Aunt Linda came and stayed for a few weeks.” She clasped her hands in her lap, still uneasy talking about that night. “Thank you.”
“Why are you so surprised that I would visit? We were married, Lauren.”
“Time has passed. So much water and damage are under the bridge.”
“It was disturbing. What those men did to you.” There was a catch to his voice.
“I was lucky to survive, at least that’s what the doctors told me.” She drew a circle in the condensation of her bottle. “A man, his name is Ranger, found me. I owe him a great deal.”
Steam blew out a long breath, but some of the tension lingered in his jaw. “I checked into your case.”
“You did?”
He nodded. “Of course, but I’m not with the WPD any longer.”
“I heard.”
“Ma told you?”
“We still talk. I still consider her family. Do you know who the men were who attacked me? Do you have a lead? Anything?” Would he have the same suspicions that Max King had ordered the attack?
His eyes turned a shade darker, looking stark against his olive complexion. “Two of the best detectives in the department were working the case, but sometimes leads just aren’t there to be found. I do have a couple of questions of my own.”
“I told the detectives everything I know, everything I remember, which wasn’t much.” She planted her elbows on her knees, feeling her stomach turn.
He nodded, scratching his thumb down his temple. “The men were wearing masks?”
“Yes, so I can’t identify them.”
“These men knew what they were doing. They knew where the cameras were located and carefully stayed out of every angle. Doesn’t sound like a random mugging.”
“I’ve heard it all.”
“There are things you haven’t heard. Trust me.”
“Then fill me in, Steam.”
Chapter 4
Steam shifted on the cushion, feeling a soreness in his groin that he was certain would ache well into tomorrow. He hadn’t been hit in the nuts since elementary school, but it was a pain a man never forgets if it happens to him. Thankfully, he’d been fast enough that he dodged the full blunt of her knee and twisted just in time. In his defense, he saw her walking up the sidewalk and he’d been struck in some foolish trance. He’d been waiting for her to get home, planning what he’d say to her, but the second he saw her, logic was swimming in murky waters. Enough so that she’d gotten the best of him.
Although he wasn’t happy that his cock ached, he was mostly to blame. He’d approached her in the dark and should have known better.
He noticed how her hands trembled and could feel her hesitation—feel her cagey distrust. Her hair had been piled on top of her head, but she’d taken it down. Was it to hide the scar on her cheek? Why? She didn’t need to hide anything from him. He knew every mark because he’d been with her in the early days at the hospital. Her eyes were warm, but they held hesitation, which he didn’t blame her for. They had a lot of history between them and not all of it was good, but a helluva lot of it was the best.
Her tongue swept across her plush pink lips and one corner dipped into a frown. There was a new weariness about her. He needed to be careful how he questioned her. She’d been through something horrible and he didn’t want to revictimize her.
“I realize you didn’t see any of their faces, but did you see anything familiar? Any identifying marks. Jewelry. Something they said. Sometimes the slightest clue is enough.”
She placed her hands against her thighs, her shoulders slumped some and her brows scrunched. There was a long hesitation. “One of the men wasn’t wearing a mask at first. I saw him watching me from afar, but the garage had poor lighting. I remember only bits of pieces of that night and at this point I don’t know if I can differentiate truth from fiction. It makes sense that they knew the camera angles because they waited and watched.”
“You said you can’t differentiate between truth and fiction?” Those were never good words to hear from a witness.
“Because the attackers have all become monsters with sharp teeth and horns in my mind.” She looked at him in despair. “I know. I wouldn’t make a good witness now.”
“Cleaner cases have been solved. It only takes one slip, one loose tongue and we’ll catch them.”
“Forgive me if I don’t hold out hope.” She dragged her gaze away from him. Was she hiding something? Did she know something that she wasn’t telling him?
“You pissed some people off with the controversial stories you were writing.” He watched several expressions flicker over her face. She was hiding something. Could she be protecting someone? Or did she not trust him?
“So, you believe my attack is traced back to on
e of the articles?” She paled. Her bottom lip trembled. And her eye lid fluttered.
Damn! She was scared.
“You did invite yourself trouble,” he growled.
Her gaze narrowed and her fiery spirit was back. “Interesting that someone who lives in danger on a daily basis would point out someone else’s risk factors.”
This was an old argument. They’d discussed this into the ground when they were married.
He swallowed hard, feeling the familiar tension that he thought he’d managed to control. Maybe he shouldn’t be here. There was a reason why a lawman didn’t work cases that involved loved ones. The longer he listened to her talk the more his anger took forefront and he wanted to find the bastards that did this to her and give them a dose of their own medicine.
“Steam? You believe the attack involves someone I wrote a story on, don’t you?” He didn’t miss the eager tone.
“I think anything is possible. You certainly did dig up bones.”
She rubbed the bridge of her nose. “You’re not telling me something. I can feel it.”
“I was thinking the same thing about you.” No doubt she could read him well. He needed to be completely honest with her to make sure he could protect her. Protect her? His job wasn’t to protect her any longer. And the most important aspect, she didn’t want him protecting her. “Earlier today I received a tip that a member of the Blue Diamonds cartel would be found dead in an alley.”
“And?”
“His throat was slashed.”
Her eyes widened, but she quickly controlled her expression. “What does this have to do with me?”
“We found a newspaper clipping in his back pocket. The one you’d written about the Mayor.” She started to say something, but he stopped her. “The Mayor has been in protective lockdown since he entered prison. No visitors. No socializing with the other inmates. If he’s involved it isn’t with his knowledge. And the case would be too simple and we both know nothing is ever as it seems.”
Secured by the Lawman (Mountain Force Book 2) Page 5