The Agent

by Herkness, Nancy

  “I never knew which Dobs he would be when he walked in the house,” Regina said.

  “He wanted you off-balance,” Alastair said, nodding.

  “The day I left him, I had been to the doctor because my period was late. I was pretty sure I was pregnant.” She laid her hand over her belly. “But I didn’t want to tell Dobs without being absolutely certain. He’d be furious if it turned out I wasn’t.”

  She took a deep breath. “I hadn’t told him I was going out because I didn’t want him to know where I was. And I’d left my cell phone at home because he tracks me on it. It turned out he’d come looking for me to have sex and couldn’t find me. So when I got home, he was in a rage. He was waiting for me at the top of the stairs. Before I could tell him the good news, he grabbed me and said he was going to throw me down the stairs because I was useless to him.”

  She had both hands on her abdomen as she choked on a sob. “I was pregnant and he was going to hurt my baby.”

  Natalie put her arm around Regina’s shoulders. “So you protected your baby by leaving. That took great courage.”

  Regina shook her head. “I almost told Dobs then because I knew it would make him love me again. But then I thought about raising a child with him. What if the baby disappointed him? Would he throw our child down the stairs?”

  “How did you get away from him?” Alastair asked.

  She flushed. “I told him I wanted to have sex with him.” She shuddered. “It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life. As soon as we were finished, he went back to his office while I threw some clothes in my gym bag and told him I had a session with my personal trainer. I went to the gym and left my phone in my locker there before I drove to Natalie’s house.”

  “I’m impressed by how you kept your wits about you in a highly stressful situation,” Alastair said, pushing a box of tissues closer to her.

  Regina took one and wiped her face. “It was like Dobs had cast some kind of evil spell over me. Once I broke it, my brain started to work again.”

  Natalie knew how hard it was to cut through those chains made of lies and humiliation. “You are amazing, sweetie,” she said to the younger woman.

  “I didn’t want to get you in trouble by bringing the phone to your house,” Regina said to her. “I was afraid Dobs could track it even if I turned it off.”

  Alastair typed a bit longer before closing the laptop. “I’ve sent all the information off to be set up in a formal complaint. I know a judge in New Jersey who will expedite it.” He folded his hands on the computer again. “Now we need to talk about divorce.”

  “All I care about is getting custody of my baby,” Regina said. “Dobs can keep his money.”

  Alastair nodded. “I understand, but this is going to be tricky. Your child has no rights until it is born, so neither of you can be granted custody at this point. However, your husband will easily be able to delay the divorce proceedings until the child is born. Then we’ll have a tough custody battle on our hands.”

  “Not if it’s a girl,” Regina said. “Dobs only cares about carrying on the family name.”

  “Then let us hope you have a daughter,” Alastair said.

  Natalie heard the faint note of skepticism in the lawyer’s voice and agreed with him. Dobs would want to punish his wife, so he would try to take the child she cared about away from her, whether it was a girl or a boy.

  “In the meantime, let’s discuss what I would recommend you ask for in the divorce settlement,” the lawyer said.

  Natalie gave Alastair kudos for subtle persuasion. Regina wanted to have nothing to do with Dobs Van Houten for the rest of her life. However, Alastair pointed out that she owed her unborn child a secure financial future, so they worked out a way to manage that without being tied to Dobs after the divorce.

  After they rose from their seats at the conference table two hours later, Alastair walked them through the firm’s lobby to the elevators. “I’ll send the restraining order papers over for your signature as soon as they’re ready,” he said, shaking Regina’s hand.

  He turned to Natalie and grasped her hand in both of his. “I admire what you do very much. If another one of your guests should require legal assistance, please don’t hesitate to call me.”

  “That’s very kind of you,” Natalie said, surprised by his offer.

  The flash of anger lit his eyes again. “I find domestic abuse appalling. No one should be forced to live in that kind of situation.”

  Natalie rubbed her eyes and closed her laptop. The appointment with Regina’s lawyer had been early in the morning, and on Thursdays the Mane Attraction was open late, so it had been a long day. She had stood up to tell Pam she was ready to leave when her bodyguard appeared in the doorway. “You have a visitor.”

  Pam stepped aside and Deion bounded into Natalie’s office. With his dreads pulled back in a neat ponytail and his necktie loosened so his shirt collar stood slightly open, he looked like a fashion model. “My boss—who’s a great lady like you—let me resign from the store without giving two weeks’ notice, so I can start with KRG any time.” He threw his arms around Natalie. “Thank you so much.”

  “I didn’t do anything to earn your gratitude,” she said, although it was nice to be hugged by Deion.

  He let her go and stepped back. “You introduced me to Mr. Gibson. You told him I was a good guy despite my record.” He gestured toward the ceiling. “You gave me a nice place to live so I could start over. You’ve done a shitload.” He waved an apologetic hand. “Sorry, but it’s true.”

  “You earned your good fortune,” Natalie said with a smile.

  Pam walked all the way into the office with her hand held out. “Welcome to KRG, Deion, and congrats on the job. It’s good to have you on board.”

  “Hey, thanks!” Deion’s face lit up as he shook his new colleague’s hand. Then his beautiful face turned serious as he faced Natalie again. “You ever need any kind of help that I can give you, you better ask.”

  “I promise.” Natalie was touched by the young man’s earnest gratitude. It washed away some of the ugliness she still carried with her after hearing Regina’s story that morning.

  “Have you heard from the stalker today?” Deion asked.

  “Not a peep,” Natalie said. “Pam’s been monitoring the surveillance feed, and Tully sent someone to check my house in person a couple of times.”

  Natalie had almost been able to forget about her stalker because she’d been so busy at the salon.

  “Why don’t you scope out the salon before Natalie gets here tomorrow morning?” Pam said to Deion. “That way we won’t walk into anything nasty. Just be careful.”

  Deion’s eyes lit up. “I’m on it. And no heroics—I promise. I know I have a lot to learn.”

  Two hours later, Pam pulled the big SUV into the courtyard behind Tully’s house. His back door opened and warm, buttery light painted the edges of Tully’s silhouette in the entrance before he jogged down the steps to open Natalie’s car door.

  She was so tired that she practically fell out of the high seat of the SUV into his strong, welcoming arms. “You okay?” he asked, brushing a kiss against her temple.

  “I just want to stand here a minute,” she said, her voice muffled because she had her face pressed into his warm chest, the clean, male smell of him filling her lungs.

  His arms tightened slightly and he called a good night to Pam. Natalie heard the car pull away and then only the usual sounds of the nighttime city filtered into her awareness.

  “What the hell happened today?” Tully asked, his voice worried, as she clung to him in the middle of the courtyard. “Pam said the stalker went silent.”

  “It was the meeting with Regina.” She blew out a breath. “It brought back some unpleasant memories.”

  “Shit!” Tully said, then gentled his tone. “Sweetheart, let’s get you inside.”

  She nodded against the fabric of his shirt before she loosened her grip from around his waist and st
epped back. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just needed to feel . . . safe.”

  “You’re always safe with me.” He put his arm around her shoulders and guided her inside and down the hall to a cozy den. “I know you stopped to eat, but how about a drink? One of those Manhattans you like so much?”

  The burn of rye whiskey might blot out some of the memories. “That sounds good. Have you got what you need to make one?” Manhattans required some uncommon ingredients.

  “I laid them in today when I knew you were staying here.” He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze before he released her and walked to the built-in bar.

  Her heart gave a little leap of pleasure because he’d remembered her favorite drink.

  Pushing that feeling away, Natalie glanced around the room lined on two sides with book-filled oak shelves and furnished with matching overstuffed blue velvet sofas, a carved-wood coffee table, and a wine-and-navy Persian rug. The sofas invited her to kick off her shoes and curl her legs under her while she leaned against a throw pillow in the same wine color as the rug. She let her head fall back as she watched Tully through half-closed eyelids.

  The standing lamp by the bar threw gold across his face, outlining the blade of his nose and sharp line of his jaw while keeping his eyes in shadow. The hair dusting his arms picked up glints of the light as he measured the liquor into a jigger and poured it into the cocktail mixer. He moved with precision and economy, just the way he did when he inspected her house for security flaws.

  “You’re very quiet,” he said, with a quick glance her way. “Don’t want to talk about it?”

  “Actually, I think I do, but right now I’m enjoying your presence.”

  He flashed a grin as he swirled the cocktail shaker in circles. “A lot of folks run in the opposite direction.”

  “Only the folks who are doing something they shouldn’t be. The rest of us wrap ourselves in the mantle of your strength.”

  “That sounds like something out of a Greek epic poem.” Tully poured the amber liquid into two martini glasses and dropped in Luxardo cherries skewered on cocktail picks. “I always wanted to be a Homeric hero like Odysseus.”

  “You certainly could pose for a statue of one.” Natalie smiled at him as he settled beside her on the couch.

  He laughed and handed her a drink. “I’m not much for standing still.” He touched the rim of his glass to hers. “To the end of a long day.”

  She took a sip, closing her eyes as the liquor slid down her throat like liquid flame, loosening her muscles before it even hit her stomach. “So your day was long too?”

  “A lot of work stuff, projects I needed to catch up on.” He snaked his free arm around her and shifted so his solid body pressed against hers from thigh to shoulder. “But I had this to look forward to, so it went by fast.”

  “You’ve been spending too much time on my problem,” she said as guilt nipped at her.

  “No, I spend too much time at brain-sucking meetings.” He tipped the glass to his lips and swallowed, the muscles of his throat rippling under the skin dusted with five-o’clock shadow. “I have some bad news on the license plate Deion caught on video. It’s stolen.”

  “They were driving around Cofferwood with stolen plates? Isn’t that kind of risky?”

  “Not if they behave themselves. It’s a pro move for short-term surveillance. Costs money to acquire them but Van Houten has plenty of that.”

  “But now we can’t prove it’s him.” Not even the effects of the Manhattan could fend off the tension that crawled through her.

  “Not yet.” Determination ran like steel through his voice. “You ready to tell me about the appointment with Alastair?”

  Natalie took another swig of her Manhattan. “He’s great. Do you know anything about his background? He seems to feel strongly about domestic abuse.”

  “Just that he’s from England and came here to go to law school. Maybe the fact that he put an ocean between himself and his home tells you something right there.”

  Tully’s perception still surprised her when it shouldn’t. Being good with a gun was only part of his job. “You’re a very smart man,” she said.

  “I’m going to get a swelled head tonight if you aren’t careful.” But there was an undertone of gratification in his voice.

  “Dobs is even worse than I thought,” Natalie said. “He forced sex on Regina because he wanted her to get pregnant so badly.” And Regina had made excuses for him. “She only left him because she was worried that he would hurt the baby.” It had taken a near tragedy to open Regina’s eyes to the fact that Dobs wasn’t the person she thought she had married.

  Natalie understood that mindset only too well.

  She felt the muscles in Tully’s body tighten as a wave of fury rolled off him. “When I take him down, I’m going to take him down hard.”

  Natalie half turned to him. “Can you find a way to keep him from getting even visitation rights for his child?”

  Tully stared straight ahead for a few seconds. “We have to tie him to stalking you. That will put him in jail, whereas domestic abuse is hard to prove. If we can demonstrate that he’s a psychopath, we might get a judge to keep him away from his kid.”

  “Then we have to do it. Whatever it takes.”

  Tully turned to her, his eyes hard but his voice gentle. “Did your ex hurt you?”

  “Not like that. It was more subtle.” She would have left sooner if Matt had hit her. “I didn’t understand that I was being abused until—well, for a long time.”

  “He struck me as the type who needs to be the center of his universe and will do anything to make sure everyone around him agrees.”

  “It took me years to figure that out, yet you nailed it in one meeting with him.” She felt like an idiot all over again.

  “Sweetheart, you loved him. That makes it hard to see a person clearly.” Tully’s voice was gruff with understanding.

  “I was like Regina with Dobs. I thought he loved me, because he gave me extravagant gifts and took me to Broadway plays.” She had been dazzled at first, then guilty that she wasn’t more grateful.

  “He had to substitute grand gestures to trick you into believing he cared about you.” Tully looked thoughtful for a moment. “He was also showing off, proving how successful he was to the world.”

  Natalie laughed without humor. “He got angry if I didn’t flaunt his gifts in front of our friends.”

  “What made you finally leave him?” Tully asked, his voice holding nothing but compassion.

  Natalie stared at the dark-red cherries in her empty Manhattan glass. If she told him, he would think she was a coward. If she chose not to tell him, she would feel like a coward. Something about Tully compelled her to honesty. In fact, she needed to tell him.

  She took a deep breath and lifted her gaze to the bookshelves across from her. “He insisted that I was wrong and a failure so many times that I believed him. I felt worthless.” She looked back down at her glass. “I was visiting my mother and saw a bottle of sleeping pills on her bedside table. I picked it up and slipped it into my pocket to take home.” She blew out a breath. “It seemed like just going to sleep forever would be better than the life I was living.”

  “Shit!” Tully hissed. Before she knew what was happening, he’d taken her martini glass away and pulled her against his chest, his arms wrapped around her like warm steel bands. “That bastard!”

  Sobs welled up from deep inside her as she relived that moment of utter hopelessness when she stared into the black hole that was her future. Tully stroked her hair as her tears soaked the cotton of his shirt.

  “Cry all you want,” he murmured.

  She wanted to burrow in so that all she could feel was Tully’s heat and strength enveloping her. But she forced down the sobs and unclenched her fingers from the fabric she’d seized without knowing it. Giving a little push against his chest so he would release her, she brushed at the tears on her cheeks.

  “I didn’t expect to cry,” s
he said with a crooked grimace of apology. “That was four years ago and I put the damn pill bottle back on the table about a half an hour later. Obviously.”

  “Because you are one hell of a strong woman.” Tully swiped a cocktail napkin out of the stack on the table and handed it to her. “Even a scumbag like your ex couldn’t keep you down.”

  His words sent a tendril of warmth spiraling into her heart. He didn’t think she was a coward after all. “That’s when I decided to get a divorce. I figured I couldn’t feel any worse than I already did.”

  She blotted the moisture under her eyes and dared to look at him. His jaw was tight with anger but his eyes were luminous with concern—a potent combination.

  “I hate that you had to reach that point,” he said. “But it got you to the right decision.”

  “I feel sort of spineless that I didn’t leave him sooner but . . .” She shrugged. “Divorce wasn’t something I expected to happen to me.”

  But she never wanted to feel engulfed in that terrifying darkness again.

  “You weren’t spineless.” He brushed back a damp strand of hair that had stuck to her cheek. “You were invested in the marriage.”

  “You have to know when to cut your losses.” She had herself under control again, thank God. “How about another drink?”

  “You sure?” Concern laced his voice. “They fool you because they go down smooth.”

  “When it comes to Manhattans, I could drink you under the table.”

  Tully’s smile held disbelief but he picked up the two glasses before unfolding his body from the sofa. The cushion under her lifted noticeably as his weight came off it. She felt untethered and vulnerable without him anchoring her.

  That’s when she knew that he had been wrong about what he’d said when he’d walked her into the house. She wasn’t safe with him at all.

  Tully lay on his back in the big bed, one arm around the woman who pillowed her head on his chest. The silk of her hair brushed his chin and the curves of her breasts pressed against his skin with enthralling softness. She slept deeply, no doubt exhausted by the wringer of emotions she’d been through today.