White Hot

by Elise Noble

Ethan had a mild concussion and cuts to his hands and face from his trip across the concrete. Apart from ripping my scabby knees open again, I’d gotten away with bruises. My pantyhose had been shredded, and I threw my suit in the trash before rubbing myself raw in the hospital shower to get Lyle’s blood and brain matter off me. Now I was wearing a set of scrubs, but I still felt filthy.

  In the ER, they’d given Ethan a paper gown and parked him in a cubicle to wait for yet another doctor. I hovered at the curtain until he held a hand out.

  Such a sweet gesture, and it made my eyes prickle. I sat on the edge of the bed and curled my fingers around his.

  “What happened?” he asked.

  “Somebody shot at us. You slept through the drama again.”

  “Fuck.” He closed his eyes and leaned back on the pillow. “Where’s Lyle?”

  I shook my head, trying to keep my tears from falling. It didn’t work.

  “Oh, hell,” Ethan muttered. “Is this ever going to end?” He gathered me up in his arms. “I’m sorry I ever came into your life, Dani.”

  “Out of everything that’s happened in this mess, that’s the one thing I’m not sorry for.”

  I leaned back a little so I could see his face. Dammit, he’d gone all blurry. But our lips were just an inch apart, and the fragile part of me that fucked to forget was tempted to lean forward, just to see what he’d taste like. My heart hammered against my ribcage. Now, more than ever, I needed to find that oblivion I always craved. Should I? What if…?

  The curtain behind me was ripped back.

  “Right, tell me who I need to fucking kill,” Emmy demanded in a harsh whisper.

  I groaned and sat up. She always did have impeccable timing.

  “I don’t know. I hardly saw anything.”

  The nurse walked in behind her. “You two have to leave. The doctor needs to check on Mr. White.”

  “Now?” I asked. “Can’t we just have a few minutes?”

  She folded her arms. “Now.”

  Ethan reached out to squeeze my hand. “It’s okay, Dani. I’m not going anywhere.”

  I trailed Emmy out into the corridor on shaky legs, pulse still racing as we walked past the two Blackwood guards stationed outside Ethan’s room. She checked the rooms either side until she found an empty office. Messy, papers lay everywhere, probably a doctor’s. I closed the door behind us.

  “Well, what did you see?”

  “A black BMW with a gun barrel poking out the back window, and then I was on the ground and the shooting started.” I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “Then Lyle died. Fuck, Ems, I let him die.”

  “Don’t you dare blame this on yourself.”

  “He wasn’t even supposed to be there. He was meant to be out the front with Oliver. Dammit! Why did he have to change the plan?”

  “I don’t know, but he was there, and we can’t turn back time.”

  A choking sob clawed its way out of my throat, then another, and another. Emmy hugged me tightly as I bawled my eyes out. Fuck, this was embarrassing. I tried to pull away, but she wouldn’t let me.

  “Just let the pain go, Dan. It’s the easiest way.”

  “Really? You think?”

  “Better than bottling it up. Trust me. It took me fourteen years to learn that little trick.”

  I sniffled again and wiped my nose on my sleeve. “What am I supposed to tell Stefanie? She really liked Lyle, and that’s two people close to her she’s lost in as many months.”

  “You don’t have to tell her anything. Oliver’s on his way to her now. He’s going to handle it.”

  Now that the shock had set in, I was shaking inside. “I could have saved Lyle. I had to make the choice between his life and Ethan’s. It was like playing God.”

  “And if you’d saved Lyle, Ethan would be the one in the morgue.”

  That realisation made me go rigid. I tried not to think about it. Failed. “But what gave me the right to choose? Why did I pick Ethan?”

  Emmy took both my hands in hers. “Because you love Ethan, honey. Everyone can see it except you.”

  I pulled back. “Oh, no no no no no. That’s not true. It can’t be true. Daniela di Grassi does not do love.”

  “I don’t think your heart cares about that.”

  “But Ethan breaks all my rules.”

  “So write new ones.”

  She made it sound so simple when I knew it was anything but.

  “What do I do now?” I whispered.

  “You’ll figure it out. Between you, you’ll figure it out.”

  CHAPTER 40

  THE ARMOURED LIMOUSINE that drove us back to Riverley weighed over two tons and handled like a barge, but it would give a small tank a run for its money. I wasn’t taking any more chances with Ethan’s life.

  He gripped my hand across the seat, his whole body tense. He’d barely spoken a word to me or anyone else since our chat at the hospital, and I hoped he wasn’t going to withdraw completely. The man seemed to handle tragedy by bottling it up and closing himself off, and like Emmy said, that wasn’t healthy.

  “Ethan, are you okay?”

  “No.”

  Perhaps that had been a dumb question, but his answer didn’t help. Damn this man and his mercurial moods and buried secrets.

  He didn’t let go of my hand when we pulled up outside Riverley, and when he climbed out of the car, I ended up scrambling across the seat to follow.

  “You’re cutting off my circulation here.”

  Nada. I stumbled up the steps after him.

  “Ethan?”

  Zilch.

  I caught him off-balance and shoved him into the nearest lounge, because I wasn’t getting dragged all over the house like a bloody security blanket.

  “Ethan, you can’t keep this up. You need to talk to me.”

  “What am I supposed to say?”

  “Anything. Everything. Just tell me how you feel. If you keep it inside, it’ll poison you.”

  He rounded on me. “You want to know how I feel? You really want to know how I feel?”

  I nodded, taking a step back. He stalked after me until my ass hit the wall.

  Then he bent his head.

  And then he kissed me.

  There was nothing gentle about it. A harsh clash of tongues and teeth, bordering on desperation. My heart jackhammered against my ribcage, chipping away the wall I’d built to protect myself. His hands tangled in my hair, and I was helpless to do anything but kiss him back until he pushed me away.

  “Happy now? That’s how I feel. And your blood was this far…” he said as he pinched his thumb and forefinger together, “from being all over my hands today. Literally.” Eyes flashing, he walked to the far side of the room, opening up the distance between us again. “And as it is, I’ll never be able to scrub Lyle’s off.”

  I followed him, stopping a few feet away, still breathless. “The only person with blood on their hands is the person who pulled the trigger.”

  “But I was the cause. I’m like a fucking curse.”

  “Don’t talk that way.”

  “I’ll talk how I want if it’s true.”

  He strode past me and out of the door.

  Slam.

  Shit. I reached up and touched my lips. They still burned from his attack and all the passion and fire behind it. My legs trembled, and I had less coordination than a jellyfish. Holy hell, if he could do that with a kiss, what would it be like if he…?

  I couldn’t think that way. This wasn’t happening.

  Ethan needed some time to cool down, and I needed a drink, preferably a stiff whisky. I glanced at my watch. It was almost eight o’clock, so I was certainly entitled to it.

  I walked into the next room, grabbed the Jack Daniels from the wet bar, and hustled to the kitchen for ice.

  Except when I got there, I found Stefanie had already had the same idea, only her vice was gin. She looked up at me, trying to focus.

  “He’s dead, Dan. Did
you know that? He’s dead.”

  Yeah, I knew that. I fucking knew that. I ran shaky fingers through my hair. Was that a lump? Had I missed a bit? I grabbed the strands between my fingers and tugged until I felt a sting on my scalp.

  “I know, Stef. I’m so sorry.”

  “He was the only man who ever treated me like a person and not a commer…commor…commodity.”

  How much had she drunk? If that bottle was full when she started, then too much. I slid it away from her.

  “I know, sweetie. Lyle had a good heart.”

  She burst into tears daintier than mine. A delicate trickle rather than a flood. “He asked me out on a date last night,” she sobbed. “He promised he’d take me ice skating. I always wanted to go, and I’ve never been.”

  I hugged her tightly, but it was difficult to soothe her when I was crying too. What should I say? I couldn’t tell her it would be okay because it wouldn’t be. Not now, not ever. Nothing could bring Lyle back.

  So instead, I made her a promise of my own.

  “I’ll find whoever did this, and I’ll make him pay.”

  CHAPTER 41

  IT WAS ALL very well me making that promise to find Lyle’s killer, but where did I start?

  Most of my initial suspects had fallen away, and I only had two left—the man who killed Christina and Christina’s brother. I hadn’t forgotten the crazed glint in Kevin’s eyes at Harry’s house; he’d undoubtedly want revenge for his sister’s death. That, I could understand. It was just a shame he’d fixated on Ethan being the culprit.

  And—plot twist—whoever shot at us also had an accomplice. The shooter was in the back of the BMW, and since nobody had perfected the concept of a driverless car yet, someone else must have been behind the wheel. Either our suspect was working with a friend, or he’d hired labour in.

  Neither option filled me with joy, but it could make our job a tiny bit easier. Two suspects meant two people to slip up.

  My phone vibrated, and Yoda informed me I had a message from the dark side. Thanks, Nick. He was always messing with my ringtones.

  Trick: we need to talk to ethan.

  Not now. Ethan had quite enough on his plate already.

  Dan: He’s a little busy at the moment. What’s it about?

  Trick: music. its IMPORTANT

  Right. Important like catching a killer was important.

  Dan: I’ll pass the message on.

  I tossed the phone into my bag and headed for the car. This morning, I’d called a war meeting in the big conference room at Blackwood headquarters, fifty people at least. Emmy had given the okay to sling more resources at the problem. Although she was a businesswoman, she also had a strong sense of right and wrong, and she wasn’t afraid to spend money in pursuit of justice.

  Neither of us wanted more people to die.

  Ethan had come to the meeting too, and now he sat at the other end of the table, studying his hands. Not once did he look at me. I’d have to tackle that problem later, but for the moment, I had a team to brief.

  All eyes except Ethan’s watched me as I explained my theories about Christina’s killer, Kevin, and their desire for revenge against Ethan.

  “Any questions?”

  “What about Harold Styles?” one of my investigators asked. “Couldn’t he have hired somebody in?”

  “It’s possible, and we’re looking into it. But I’m just not sure he’d have the connections to contract somebody for a drive-by shooting. He doesn’t run in those circles, and we’ve been keeping a close eye on his communications. We’ve also been over his personal finances, and there haven’t been any unusual payouts.”

  “Other than more Botox for his wife,” Mack muttered. “It’s amazing she’s capable of speaking at all.”

  “Could it have been random?” another guy asked.

  “Unlikely. It would have been a huge risk for somebody to take.”

  “Mistaken identity?”

  “Again, I don’t think so. Ethan’s face has been on every news channel lately.” There were murmurs of agreement. “It’s also possible that the same vehicle tried to run over Stefanie Amor, although we’ve got no evidence for that right now.”

  Then Emmy spoke up. “Just to make this job a bit more exciting, anyone who identifies the bastard gets a two-week, all-expenses-paid vacation. Happy hunting.”

  Blackwood paid well, but there was no harm in introducing a little extra incentive.

  “Thanks, sweetie,” I whispered.

  She simply smiled.

  The troops filed out to carry on with the hunt, but I still had one more difficult conversation to have, not counting the discussion with Ethan—and that wasn’t so much difficult as futile when he wouldn’t even make eye contact.

  “Oliver, have you got a minute?”

  “Sure.”

  We went into a smaller meeting room down the hallway. Nobody used it much, and the air smelled stale. I opened the window before I sat on the edge of the table.

  Oliver leaned against the wall, watching me the same way a hungry lion might check out an antelope. His courtroom face.

  “I have a feeling I know what you’re going to ask.”

  “And if I asked it, what would your answer be?”

  He sighed, and his features relaxed. “Nobody else knows this case like I do, and truth be told, I’ve missed it. When I watched Lyle up there today, I couldn’t help wishing it was me.”

  “So will you take over?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thank you. It means a lot.”

  “I know it does. To both of us.” He gave me a tight smile. “I guess I’ll see you in court.”

  Well, that was easier than I thought, but it still left me with one big problem. Only when I went to look for him, he’d disappeared again.

  CHAPTER 42

  AFTER I FOUND out from Leah that Ethan had gotten a ride back to Riverley with Emmy, I spent the morning on the street asking questions about the drive-by, but there wasn’t much going on so early in the day. Things would come alive in the evening. When my phone rang, I was contemplating whether to go back to my apartment for a few hours’ sleep or carry on. The receptionist from the Richmond office was calling.

  “Dan, you’ve got visitors.”

  “I’m not expecting anyone.” Which translated as, “Tell them to piss off.”

  “I can’t just send them home. They’re kinda cute in a scruffy sort of way.”

  Uh-oh. I had a bad feeling about this. Well, not bad, exactly, more wrong-time-wrong-place. “What are their names?”

  “Stick, Fine, and Trace.”

  Close enough. And those kids were persistent little brats. If I didn’t see them today, they’d be back. Might as well get it over with.

  “I’ll be there in half an hour. Would you do me a favour and put them in the conference room? And get them some drinks and sandwiches?”

  Well, I could kiss my sleep goodbye. At least this time, Emmy wasn’t there to make promises that would involve weeks of work, heartache, and confusion. I pulled a sweater over my cleavage before I went in, wondering what treats they had in store for me today.

  “Hello, boys.”

  “All right?” Trick asked.

  The other two just stared.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “We need to see Ethan. We saw you on the news with him yesterday, so we know you know where he is. Sorry about that dude, by the way.”

  “Yeah, it was shit,” Vine muttered.

  “Ethan’s not having any visitors at the moment, I’m afraid.”

  “But it’s an emergency.”

  “The music, right?”

  What could possibly be so vital that it couldn’t wait?

  “Yeah, the music. The project with us kids.”

  “Can I help instead?”

  “Doubt it.”

  “Why don’t you try me?”

  Trick folded his arms and stared. “Ethan’s the only one that’ll help.”

  �
��Look, I can take him a message. How about that?”

  “You said that before, and you didn’t, did you?”

  Shit. “We were busy.”

  “I knew it. He’d have called back.”

  “I’m sorry, okay?”

  “Why can’t we just speak to him? He understands stuff.”

  At Trick’s side, Race started sniffling. “She won’t help. She’s just like all the rest.”

  Oh, hell, what was I supposed to do with a crying child? I had enough trouble dealing with the adults. Then again, would it really be such a bad idea to let the boys see Ethan? He might not want to talk to me, but I’d like to see him blow off three sort of cute-ish kids in the same way. Trick and his stubbornness might be exactly what Ethan needed.

  After all, it was just music. How bad could it be?

  “Fine. I’ll take you for a visit. A short visit. Ethan’s been having a hard time lately, and he’s not up to talking for ages.”

  Three faces broke into smiles.

  “You’re awesome!” Vine said.

  Well, at least somebody thought so.

  They quite liked my car as well. After a brief argument over who got to ride in the front, which Vine surprised me by winning, they all clambered in. Before long, we were driving through the gates at Riverley. I’d called ahead and asked Bradley to track down Ethan.

  He was waiting in the hallway when I arrived, and the look of surprise followed by happiness that crossed his face told me I’d done the right thing by bringing the boys. They rushed over and hugged him, and he returned the favour.

  “I’ve missed you guys. How’s everything? How’s the project? Are people still practising?”

  “Yeah, we’re all going, but that’s the problem,” Trick said. “Some dude’s trying to close it.”

  “Yeah, he’s shit,” said Vine, whose vocabulary didn’t seem to be all that comprehensive.

  Fuck.

  Why couldn’t they have told me this? I thought they wanted to talk to Ethan about guitars or something, not dump more problems in his lap. For a moment, I considered shoving the three of them back into the car and driving them far, far away.

  But Ethan didn’t seem to mind. “Why don’t you come through to the music room? We can talk in there.”