“I’m sorry.” His eyes darkened in the soft light, his jaw hard as his voice lowered to the tone he used when dealing with his younger sisters. “You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not thinking clearly.”
Son of a bitch. Malloy flipped Shane around, frisking him and cuffing him within seconds. Because Shane allowed him to. Thank goodness her husband wasn’t fighting back. Right now, anyway.
Malloy tipped his head, resignation in his eyes. “Mrs. Dean, you can probably bail him out within hours.” He prodded her husband toward a squad car.
“Josie.” Shane gave her a look, his hands behind his back, his eyes a seriously pissed off hue of gray. “Watch your tail and go home. Don’t leave until I call you.” Malloy shoved his head down before pushing him into the car.
Seconds later they drove away. The SWAT team packed up. The parking lot emptied.
Tom grabbed her arm, pulling her to face him. “Come home with me. I can protect you.”
Fury cascaded through her system. She shot her knee into his groin.
Tom bent over with a muffled oomph, dropping to one knee. “Damn it.”
She turned and glared at Daniel, who’d remained motionless at the door.
He shook his head. “You’re going to ruin your career.”
Without another glance, she flipped around and ran for the Toyota, keying the ignition and ripping out of the lot. Shane said to watch her tail and go home. Probably the crappy motel. She knew he had cash hidden in a large duffle bag. She’d need the money to bail him out.
The files slid out of her briefcase. She’d lose the bar as a client for sure if she didn’t drop those off as promised. Okay. New plan. She’d drop off the files and head back to the motel to get money to bail out Shane. The police would need time to process him, wouldn’t they?
She chewed her lip. What was the bail procedure? Did she go to the police station? Man, she had no clue.
Chapter 15
Josie kept an eye on the rearview mirror as she drove across town. Shane had told her to watch her tail. Would someone really follow her? Cars zipped behind her, probably people rushing home after a hard day’s work. Like she should be. But no. First she had to appease a pissed-off client, and then she had to bail her husband out of jail. She’d become one of those women from television who bailed their man out. The giggle that escaped her had an edge of hysteria to the high pitch.
She parked on the street in front of The Pound, shoving the files back in the case. Thunder rolled above. The first winter storm was about to hit.
Heavy metal music pounded as she ran into the club. The stench of sweat mixed with stale perfume and smoke filled her lungs. Lights flashed. Bodies gyrated on the dance floor. A lot of bodies, considering it was only eight o’clock on a Tuesday night. Glancing around, she made a beeline for the burly bartender who stood behind a large marble bar.
He grinned, a gold tooth gleaming in the dim light. “Hi, pretty lady. What can I get you?”
“I have some papers for Paul,” she yelled over the loud music.
“He’s in a meeting.” The bartender nodded at a sparkling bar stool. The booming voice matched his large bulk. “Have a seat, have a drink, and he’ll be done in a few.”
She didn’t have time for this, but neither did she have a choice. She absolutely couldn’t lose any more clients. With a shrug, she slid onto the stool. “Rolling Rock, please.”
The guy slid the beer across the bar. “On the house.” He winked.
“Thanks.” She took a deep drink. The beer was light with a smooth finish, and she allowed herself to relax. The bartender loped down to the other end of the bar to serve two young women in tight tank tops and short skirts. Really short skirts.
The outside door opened and shut. A cool breeze wafted across her skin, and the hair prickled on the back of her neck. She turned, surveying the doorway.
A man, a large man, stood just inside. Smooth and graceful, he crossed to a table close to the doorway. He prowled like a panther on the hunt. A dark T-shirt covered a thick chest, while faded jeans rode low on his hips. Black hair fell to his shoulders, giving him a bad-boy look that matched the biker boots on his feet.
Two waitresses nearly collided in a rush to serve him. The buxom blonde got there first, and her ass actually twitched as she took his order.
He shouldn’t be there. Adrenaline whipped through Josie’s veins. The club catered to a young crowd, a partying crowd who liked to dance. The guy sitting across the room was no partier. Even more alarming, he did nothing to hide the fact that he didn’t belong. Arrogance and an air of apathy filtered around him in a deadly, frightening combination.
His glance at her increased her adrenaline rush. He looked away as the waitress dumped a beer in front of him. Long neck. The woman tripped in her heels as she moved on.
Josie’s breath caught in her throat. A sense of awareness pulled her gaze from the man at the table to the rear entry near the bathrooms. Another man, just as big as the first, leaned against the wall, a beer in his hand. His gaze settled on her. No expression. Just focus.
Danger. Between the two men, a sense of danger filtered through the club.
Josie shivered. Were they following her? Who the hell were they? They didn’t so much as acknowledge each other, but they didn’t fit in. Not in this club.
She’d left the gun in the jockey box of the car. Without a doubt, she needed a weapon. These had to be the men after Shane. Maybe. Or perhaps she’d lost her mind, and these guys were just looking for a good time.
Nope. The one standing ignored a chippy in barely there clothes to keep his gaze on Josie. They weren’t looking for a good time. The girl pouted out her bottom lip and flounced back to the dance floor.
“Hey, Paul’s free,” the bartender bellowed, flipping up an opening in the bar. Josie jumped, almost spilling her beer.
“Thanks.” She scurried past him, all but running down the narrow hall to the offices at the back. A glance toward the bar showed an empty hallway. With a deep breath to calm her jumping nerves, she knocked on the door.
“Come on in,” a male voice said.
Calm. She needed to be calm. Opening the door, she walked in wearing a smile. “Hi, Paul. I have the benefits package lined out for your employees.” She crossed and sat on a pleather guest chair to face her client across his massive marble desk.
Paul leaned forward. “Great.” In his early twenties, Paul had inherited a bundle from his grandfather and had quickly built his dream club. He’d been smart enough to hire the accounting firm to assist him. He pushed thick blond curls away from his face. “Sorry I was so much of a pain earlier. I just don’t like anyone knowing about my finances.”
Josie nodded. Especially his drug-dealing brother, who had been annoyed when Paul inherited all the money. She made a mental note to let Malloy know about the brother. Could be a lead for the break-in at the offices. “I know. And I assure you, we’re doing everything we can to discover what was taken and by whom.”
Paul nodded. “I know. So what papers did you bring for me?”
She pushed the manila files toward him. “The first is a plan for employee benefits, the second is a list of deductions I think you can take throughout the year.” Right now she had a more immediate concern. Were the men still out in the bar? She hoped not. “The deductions should save you about ten thousand dollars each quarter.”
“Great.” Paul glanced at his watch. “How about I look these over tonight and give you a call tomorrow? I, er, have a date.”
Josie smiled and stood. “No problem.” Relief filled her. Paul wasn’t going to hire another firm. Excellent.
She followed him down the hallway to the bar, her senses on high alert. Her hands tightened to fists. The guy against the wall had gone. The man at the table remained in the same place, his gaze on her as she dodged through the bar. Anger and fear slammed together. She wasn’t taking this. With a huff, she grabbed her beer from where she’d left it on the bar.
The guy raised an eyebrow and took another drink of his beer. “In general or right now?”
He appeared casual but a muscle pounded in his jaw. The words might be a double entendre, but not one ounce of sexual innuendo echoed in them. “In general.”
Surprise flashed in his dark eyes. The light was too dim for her to determine color. “A quiet life.” He set down his beer. “What do you want?”
She shrugged. “What happened to your buddy across the room?”
A smile flirted with the corner of his mouth. Familiar. There was something so familiar about this guy. Was he a client of the firm? “What buddy?”
“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ve had a long day and don’t want to play. Leave me alone or you’ll regret it.”
“You approached me, doll.”
She needed to get to the motel and then bail out Shane. “My mistake.” She whirled around, her gaze seeking refuge. Plastering on her flirtiest smile, she wandered over to the bartender. “Hey, would you do me a huge favor?”
His grin split his face. “Anytime, lady.”
“There’s a guy at a table behind me, a big guy. Would you distract him for a few minutes after I leave?”
The bartender glanced behind her. “What guy?”
Josie turned. He was gone. Only two beer bottles remained on the sparkly table. Unease caught her breath in her throat. “Well, how about escorting me to my car? Just in case.”
The bartender jumped over the bar and held out an arm. “I’d be delighted.”
The rain drenched down as they hurried outside, and she checked the backseat before getting in. Empty. With a wave to her temporary hero, she pulled into traffic, keeping an eye behind her.
Darkness fell as she took side roads, driving the opposite direction of where she needed to go several times. No one followed her. That she could see at least.
Finally she arrived at the motel and parked across the lot from their room, watching. Waiting. Nothing moved. She grabbed the gun out of the glove box and stuck the heavy weapon in the back of her pants. Her purse offered little comfort at her side while she scrambled across the unkempt lot and opened the door.
Silence.
Thank goodness. She stepped inside and locked the door, flipping on the light.
Empty.
What a rotten day. She dodged forward into the bathroom, taking a moment to wash her face and use the facilities. What should she do?
Bail out Shane. That’s what she should do. He may have knocked Tom out, but he was just trying to protect her. Plus, the two men at the bar were there for her. She couldn’t handle them, and they had to have something to do with Shane. Sure, she could tell the police about them, but they hadn’t done anything yet, and she had no clue who they were.
Shane could deal with the duo from the bar. Every instinct she had yelled they’d be back. She might not trust Shane, but he was her best bet in surviving whatever was going on. Then she’d have to figure out how to survive him. One thing at a time.
Okay. Good plan. She walked out of the bathroom.
And stopped cold. Fear slammed her heart against her ribs. Her ears burned. Adrenaline ripped through her bloodstream.
The two men sat on the ragged couch, gray eyes focused on her.
Chapter 16
She drew the gun, steadying her feet on the ugly carpet. Should she point at one of them or between them? Between them.
The two men on the couch didn’t flinch. Or move. The brown-haired one who’d stood against the far wall at the bar raised an eyebrow. “Did you figure she had a gun?” He cocked his head to the side, twisting his lip as if in deep thought.
“Nope.” The man with black hair stretched out long legs. “She tossed her purse on the bed.”
Familiar. There was something so familiar about these two. She squinted her eyes. “Who the hell are you?”
The first man scratched his head, glancing at the other. “Well?”
With a short nod, the second man spoke. “I’m Matt and this is Nathan.” He tilted his head. “Shane’s brothers.”
Shane’s brothers. Shock washed through her, and she plastered on her foster care face. “Well. That explains the eye color.” Gray. Pure gray, just like Shane’s. “How did you find me?”
“We followed you to the bar from your work, and from the bar to here,” Matt said, his big body relaxing into the couch.
“No you didn’t. I checked behind me.”
He smiled. “I know. You did a good job, too. Almost lost us on Pine Street.”
Almost wasn’t good enough. No way could she take these two. They stretched well over six feet, packed hard, and thrummed with the same preternatural stillness as did Shane. They were as big as Shane. Probably just as dangerous. “So why follow me? Why not get your brother out of jail?”
“We will. Shane is safe right now. You’re not,” Nathan said, rubbing his chin.
She shifted her aim to him. “Is that a threat?”
Confusion wrinkled his nose. “Um, no. I’d never threaten someone so soft. Did it sound like a threat?” He lifted an eyebrow at his brother.
Matt shook his head. “I didn’t think so. I figured it for a statement of fact.”
Her shoulders straightened. “Listen, Laurel and Hardy. Knock it off. Aren’t you at least a little concerned I’ll shoot you?”
A grin tipped Matt’s lips. “Honey, you have the safety on.”
Goddamn it. Her thumb clicked the lever loose. “Not now, I don’t.”
His smile widened. “Shane was right. She is something.”
Pleasure rose unbidden. He’d talked about her to his brothers? In a good way? Then irritation spiraled through. “He never mentioned you. Not a single word.”
Nathan’s gray eyes softened. “He couldn’t, Josie. Trust me.”
“I don’t trust any of you.” Sad, but true. Not even Shane. Who were these people?
“Smart girl,” Matt said. “So, ah, do you mind telling us what the charges are against Shane? I know there was a BOLO out on him for kidnapping you, but the police canceled it earlier today.”
She ground her teeth. “I am pointing a gun at you.” How stupid were these guys? “Get out.” Home. She’d back her bags and go back home. If Shane stayed the hell away, she was safe. To get on with her life. Her long, boring, lonely life.
“Actually, you’re pointing the weapon at Nathan,” Matt said. “He’s been shot before. Go ahead.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Nathan muttered.
Their banter bordered on humorous, but a thick tension blanketed the room. Danger prickled through the air.
“Would you please leave?” Why was she asking them? She held the gun.
Matt’s eyes softened. “No. Shane apparently wants you safe. That means we keep you safe.”
“For how long? Until he leaves me again?” Her voice cracked.
“Ah, Josie.” Matt leaned forward, his gaze serious. “He had no choice. Jory was killed, and we had to move. Leaving you was the only way to keep you safe and do what he needed to do.”
Fire whipped through her. “Baloney. Sorry, Matt. The old ‘I hurt you to protect you’ line doesn’t work on me.” She shifted her aim to him. “How did Jory die?” The question held risk and she knew it.
They both stiffened. Already hard, their faces hardened even more. Matt held her gaze while Nathan dropped his to the floor. Pain thickened the air.
Matt cleared his throat. “We need to get Shane out. Will you help us or not?”
Okay. So they shared information as freely as Shane did. Not at all. “If I help you, you’ll leave? All of you?”
Matt winced. “Nate and I will leave. You’re on your own with Shane.”
“Shane will leave,” Nathan said.
Matt cut him a glance, “Nate—”
“Shane will leave.” Nathan’s jaw snapped shut. “I have one brother in the grave, and everyone close to us dies. Shane will leave. He’ll move on if I have to beat him senseless to do it.” He exhaled loudly. “I’m sorry, Josie. But you should cut your losses and move on. There’s no future with any of us.”
She’d already figured that out, but hearing the words delivered so coldly slid ice down her spine. Josie lowered the gun. Her hand ached, but she kept a hold of the weapon anyway. “How many brothers are there?”
Matt took her measure. “Four.”
Surprise flashed across Nathan’s face. Apparently Matt wasn’t usually so forthcoming. Nathan cleared his throat. “Four counting Jory.”
Three brothers still lived. A real family. “Shane might not remember you.”
The sofa wobbled when Matt pushed his bulk off. “I know. We have his medical records.” He stretched his neck. “Why was Shane arrested?”
She didn’t bother to ask how he’d gotten his hands on Shane’s medical records. “I went to stay with a friend, and two men tried to break into the house. Shane stopped them and knocked out my friend to, ah, take me.”
Nathan stretched to his feet. “Tom Marsh?”
These guys could obtain information now, couldn’t they? “Yes. Tom had a gun pointed at Shane, so Shane defended himself. Now Tom has pressed charges.”
Nathan grinned. “Listen to you defending your man.”
“It’s the truth.” She wrinkled her nose at him. So familiar. Must be the resemblance to Shane. Her man. Temporarily at least.
“So. Do I flash my badge?” Nathan yanked a wallet out of his back pocket to flip open the top.
Was that an FBI badge?
“No.” Matt reached into a case sitting next to the couch that had been hidden by his long legs. He drew out a wallet, which he tossed to his brother. “You’re Nathan Jones, attorney at law. Congrats.”
Josie cleared her throat. “The FBI badge would work better. He could take Shane into federal custody.”
Nathan eyed her. “I like how you think… and you really do look like an angel.”
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