Book Read Free

Windy City: The Complete 5 Book Series

Page 17

by Measha Stone


  Kendrick scrambled eggs and made toast for his guest. The same guest who sang in his shower while cleaning off the scum from the night before. Her reaction from the night before surprised him. Most women would have freaked out, screaming obscenities when they woke up strange place. Kelly, however, though irritated by Ted's actions, appeared more disappointed than scared.

  He plated the eggs as she walked into the kitchen. Her wildly curly hair had been tamed into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. One disobedient strand sat on the side of her face. Her shirt was only slightly crumpled from the night's events, and her skirt sat snug on her hips. It rose higher on her thighs than he would like for his girl. But she wasn't his girl.

  "Thanks." She pushed the errant strand of hair behind her ear and pulled out a chair to sit. "Your place is beautiful." She picked up the fork from beside her plate. "I didn't realize apartments had second floors."

  He poured a glass of water and slid it across the table. "How are you feeling?" He leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest.

  "Fine," she said between bites. "Have a bit of a headache, though." She glanced up at him, her eyes washing over him before focusing back on her eggs.

  "I have some aspirin, that should help."

  "This is completely weird, isn't it?" She put her fork down and folded her hands in her lap. "I mean, shouldn't I be freaked out? That asshole drugged me. He could have raped me. He could have killed me." She took a deep breath.

  "He didn't though."

  "No. He didn't. You were there." She half-smiled. "Thank you." Defeat crept back into her eyes.

  "How long have you known Ted?"

  "Oh, about three hours." She forced a laugh.

  "You met him last night?" He tried to keep his voice controlled, but feared he wasn't succeeding. "Where'd you meet?"

  "Krush." She took a bite of eggs, averting her gaze.

  "You met a guy at a bar and got into his car to go to a house party where you didn’t know anyone?" His jaw tightened. She was lucky the worst that had happened was a date rape drug in her drink.

  "I didn't get into his car," she pointed out, her tone just as firm. "I took a cab."

  Kendrick ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath, reminding himself again she wasn't his to deal with. If she was, she would've known better. She wouldn't have put herself at risk. Hell, she wouldn't have needed to go to such a shitty place to begin with.

  "You realize how stupid that was, right?" he asked pointedly. Sometimes holding the Dom back only made it worse.

  She raised her chin, squaring off her shoulders. "Of course I do." She turned back to her eggs. "I misjudged him…obviously." She took a sip of her water.

  Kendrick watched her eat in silence. Her bravado didn't match the weariness in her gaze. He'd seen that look too many times over the years. One more bad night to add to a slew of others, he guessed.

  "Did he tell you where you were meeting him?" Kendrick continued to question her.

  "Yeah. I knew where I was going. Look, we've already established it was a bone-headed thing to do." Her fork clunked onto the plate. "Do you do a lot of security there?" Her eyes brightened.

  "For Derek? No, not usually. His parties aren't managed well enough for me, but he was in a bind. It was either me or no security at all." Saying it out loud made him glad he had taken the job. Ted would have had free rein on her body had Kendrick not been there to shut him down.

  "There are better parties?" she asked, hope saturating her words.

  Ignoring her question, Kendrick swiped her plate from the table and took it to the sink.

  "I know it was stupid to follow that jerk-wad, but you seem to be at least a tiny bit more decent—"

  "Only a tiny bit?" He laughed. This woman stirred up too many different reactions in one conversation. If he loosened his control, he would quickly lose track of the subject.

  "Well, let's be honest. I'm not sure exactly what happened last night. When I was passed out, naked in your bed, anything could have happened, and I wouldn't remember." Her gaze washed over him as though she were taking inventory.

  Kendrick bit down hard on his lip and sucked in a long breath. He took controlled steps toward her and placed his palms flat on the table, leaning over until his nose was only a scant inch from hers. She didn't flinch. "If I wanted you, I wouldn't need a drug to get you in my bed," he promised.

  She smelled like soap—his soap. Her eyes searched his face, and he stared into hers. Green. Not a grass green or pale green, a deep, dark green.

  A slow smile crept onto her lips—those pink, kissable lips. "Okay," she whispered.

  He kept his eyes glued to her stare for another moment before he pulled away. "I'll take you to the station now…if you want." He leaned against the counter, hands shoved in his pockets.

  "I don't know. If I do that, there'll be a lot of questions, right?" Her forehead wrinkled, and she bit the corner of her lip, thinking.

  "You'll have to give a statement, yes. You should also get your blood tested to show the drug in your system. The precinct should have a list of labs they use."

  "What do you think?" She turned to him. She wasn't smiling, and the twinkle of levity had left her eyes.

  "I think he's an ass. I doubt this is his first time doing this, and it won't be his last." Kendrick scratched his neck.

  "You've met him before." It was more of an accusation than a question.

  "Yeah. I know him," he scoffed. On more than one occasion, they'd bumped into each other, none of the experiences had been pleasant or worth repeating.

  "Okay. I'll file." She pushed the chair back and stood from the table. A lone curl fell in front of her face, bringing attention again to her deep, emerald eyes.

  Needing a distraction, Kendrick moved across the room to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. He handed it to her as he walked from the kitchen.

  "Drink that." He disappeared into the next room, searching out his keys and wallet.

  She caught up to him in the living room, holding the unopened bottle.

  "Kelly, drink the water. You’ll feel better once you rehydrate." He shoved his wallet into his back pocket and swung his key ring around his finger. "If you're ready, we can go."

  She followed him to the front door, where she found her purse sitting on a small table. Without hesitation, she grabbed it and flung the thin strap over her shoulder.

  She stopped in the doorway and looked back at him. "How did you know my name? I don't remember telling you." She pushed the curl away from her eyes.

  "I checked your ID." He grinned. "Couldn't have some underage girl sleeping nude in my bed." He gave her a wink and stepped toward her.

  He didn't tell her he'd also ran her ID through the department’s database. It wouldn't do for an ex-cop to have a criminal sleeping in his bed.

  Chapter 3

  Kendrick drove a reasonable sedan. Kelly was unimpressed. She liked speed, danger—a thrill. He held the passenger door open for her, and she slid onto the beige upholstered seat. She watched through the mirror as he walked around the car to his own door.

  She didn't know what to fully make of Kendrick or the situation she has found herself in. There was a streak of righteousness in him. It mingled with a danger hidden in his gaze. She had noticed the casual glances at her cleavage while she ate her breakfast and the dilated pupils when she'd brushed against him in the elevator.

  Given the events from the previous night, she should be rattled and terrified. She should be leery of his good intentions and keep him at arm's length. Saying she had not used her best judgment in meeting Ted at an unknown location for an S&M party was an understatement. She realized that.

  Getting into the car with another man she didn't know didn't seem to be much of an improvement. Even if he was twenty points higher on her hotness scale.

  "So, you're a security guard?" She broke the silence after a few minutes of maneuvering through Friday morning traffic.

  "No, n
ot exactly." He grinned, not taking his eyes off the road.

  She noticed a deep crease along the side of his mouth when he smiled.

  "I own the company. We provide security for many clubs here in the city…and private parties." He checked traffic over his left shoulder and changed lanes.

  "What clubs? Like the one last night?" She turned in her seat, her back pressed against the door, facing him.

  He glanced at her new position and shook his head. "Sit forward." His tone left no room for disagreement. He sounded every bit the authoritarian.

  She shifted again until she faced the street ahead of them.

  "Most of the clubs are just dance clubs. We do have two dungeons on our client list, though." He kept his eyes focused on the road as he answered, changing gears effortlessly.

  "Dungeons." She let the word hang in the air. "Where are they?" she asked with a quick breath.

  "The clubs?"

  "No, the dungeons." She tucked the annoying stray hair back behind her ear.

  "Why?" he asked with a casual glance. "It's not your scene."

  "How do you know what my scene is?" Her temper began to simmer.

  "I saw you last night. You were out of your element." He flicked the turn signal and checked his mirrors.

  "Well, maybe." She had to agree with him. "Look. Understand me when I say that whether you tell me, or I search them out myself, I will find them. Better you tell me a safe place to go, don't you think?" She played into the protective piece of his personality.

  He pulled into an alley leading them to a small lot behind the police station. He parked and turned to her. "Fine. I'll give you the phone number to one of them. You have to be a member to get in. But you have to agree only to go on a Friday night." His eyes darkened with his terms.

  "Why a Friday?" she asked, turning in her own seat to face him.

  "Because that's when I'll be there. I want to be sure no other Ted-like creeps bring you a drink." He ran his hand over his head. His short-cropped hair stood up until he brought his hand back toward the front, smoothing it down again. "Understand?"

  "Sure," she agreed, turning back around to open her door. As her door shut, his heavy sigh escaped the car.

  The police station was a new experience for Kelly. Having never broken a law, or known someone who had, there'd never been a reason to visit the local precinct. Other than the faint ring of telephones and a few of the officers chatting, the office was surprisingly quiet.

  Kendrick's hand wrapped around her arm, pulling her toward the desk, where a staunch young man stood, holding a clipboard and a radio in his hands. Kendrick's appearance seemed to lighten the man's mood as a friendly grin crossed his lips. The two men didn't exchange any words, only a nod from Kendrick toward the closed door beside the desk.

  The young officer buzzed the door, and Kendrick led them into the next hallway.

  "A regular?" she asked as she pulled her arm free of Kendrick's grasp.

  He didn't answer. Instead, he walked ahead of her, leading her down several winding hallways until they reached an office.

  The space came alive before them as Kendrick opened the door. Phones rang insistently. Chatter came from most of the desks where officers sat typing away on computers.

  Kelly followed Kendrick through the maze of desks to a small room in the corner.

  "Hey!" An ash-blond officer stood from his desk with a wide grin and an outstretched hand toward Kendrick. "How's it going?"

  Kelly remained in the doorway while the two men shook hands and exchanged friendly banter. She watched Kendrick closely. The muscles in his neck tightened when they walked into the small makeshift office. The conversation appeared to be light-hearted, but there was something in the way Kendrick tensed that gave her the impression there was something deeper between them.

  Her attention snapped back to their voices at the mention of her name.

  "Hi." She strode forward and shook the man’s hand. The officer's grip was soft around her fingers.

  "I'm Jim Peltner. Kendrick tells me you had an issue with Ted." Watered-down brown eyes focused on her.

  Kendrick had taken a step back from the desk, giving her center stage. His bland expression made it impossible for her to read.

  "Well, yes. I suppose so," she answered.

  "Please, have a seat."

  She sunk into the wooden chair, looking over her shoulder, willing Kendrick to sit beside her. When he didn't take the hint, she returned her attention to the officer. Kendrick moved to stand behind her. A sense of protection surrounded her.

  "Tell me what happened."

  "Well…" She rearranged herself in the chair and laid out what she remembered of the previous night, leaving out Ted's comment about wanting to spank her ass. She didn't think that was entirely necessary.

  "You met him at a bar?" Officer Peltner clarified, glancing at Kendrick when he asked the question. "Had you been drinking?"

  "One drink," she answered. Realization sunk in, and she took a deep breath. She could feel the tension in Kendrick's stance thicken at the officer's questions.

  "Jim, you know damn well she wasn't drunk." Kendrick placed his palms on her shoulders as the tone in his voice deepened.

  His hands calmed her unexpectedly. It was as though the mere touch of his fingers enveloped her in a globe of security.

  "I don't damn well know anything other than Ted's an ass. That we both know. You also know if I don't do this right, he'll just walk anyway. Time wasted on all sides." Jim's eyes settled on Kelly, and he took a deep breath. "If you would like to press charges, we will, of course. But I don't think much would stick. You had already been at the bar when he met you. His way of the story is you were intoxicated when you came on to him. That you begged him to—well, do what he did."

  Kelly stared in disbelief at the officer. Kendrick's fingers dug into her shoulders.

  "So, he gets off again?" Kendrick let go of her and pulled her up out of the chair.

  She was beginning to feel every bit a rag doll in his hands.

  "What about a blood test? If I get blood drawn, wouldn't it show the drug in my system?" She looked between the men, not entirely sure if her aim was to catch her attacker, or if she was trying to fulfill Kendrick's need for justice.

  "Even if it shows in your blood, Jim here would have to prove Ted is the one who slipped it to you. And he can't or won't." Kendrick led her to the door. "See you around, Jim."

  "Brooks!" Officer Peltner's voice faded as Kendrick jerked the door shut behind them. He let go of Kelly's arm and picked up her hand, dragging her through the precinct.

  She allowed him to tug her along, unsure of what to make of the scene. There was more to Kendrick's involvement with Ted than had to do with her; of that, she was sure.

  A few officers patted Kendrick on the back as they made their way through the desks. No one seemed to be swayed by the dark expression on his face. He nodded his greetings and his departure, flinging the door open.

  They stepped into the hall as another door opened and Ted sauntered through. He stopped mid-step at the sight of them and threw on a shit-eating grin.

  Kelly took the lead, stepping right up to him.

  "Did you want something, baby?" Ted's voice oozed over her.

  She wondered what she had found so sexy about him the night before. His hair was as greasy as his attitude. He was muscular, yes, but in the meat-head-stay-all-day at the gym sort of way. Not in the naturally strong because I work for a living way Kendrick was.

  Kelly scanned him over and laughed. "No. Not from you. Not ever." She turned on her heels and walked away, leaving Kendrick behind as well. She opened the door leading back to the lobby and waited for Kendrick.

  "Guess, this time you get my sloppy seconds," Ted's voice boomed from down the hall.

  Kendrick stepped into him, keeping his balled fists at his sides. She couldn't make out what he said, but the loss of color in Ted's face told her he hadn't been invited to tea.

 
; Kendrick met up with her in a few short strides and took the door from her, nudging her along with his stare. She didn't glance back at Ted knowing Kendrick was blocking her view.

  They walked to the car in silence, only daring a peek at his expression once they were inside. Fierce.

  She remained quiet as he pulled out of the lot and back into traffic.

  "Where's your apartment?" he asked.

  She gave him the address, and he switched lanes to turn.

  "I'm sorry for all the trouble." She rested her hand on his arm. The muscles in his forearm were tight, but softened under her touch. "Those cops all seemed to like you. Have you worked with them before?"

  "Yeah," he half-laughed.

  "You also seemed to know Ted pretty well." She pulled her hand away from him and tucked her hair back in place.

  He glanced at her for a moment, his already intense blue eyes darkening. Was he throwing angry daggers at her, or was he trying to shove something away deep inside himself?

  "Either you know him, or you don't. Why did that cop seem to know you so damn well? And there seems to be some history between you and Ted; something you're not telling me. I think I deserve to know what the fuck is going on." Her voice rose steadily as she spoke, and by the time she had finished her rant, she was near yelling.

  Kendrick's lips curled up at the edges, but he remained silent.

  She growled her frustration and crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring him as best she could.

  A few turns later, he pulled in front of her brownstone apartment. She was impressed he'd found it without directions, but she kept the compliment to herself. No need to give him a big head.

  He shoved the gear stick into park and turned to her. Reaching over the center console, he grabbed her chin between his fingers and brought her glare to meet his.

  Any fight she might have had in her faded when their eyes clicked together.

  "You're right. You have every right to know what's going on." His voice was soft, no hint of the anger he'd shown at the precinct. "Ted and I have a history. I was a cop for ten years when I met him for the first time. You aren't the first girl he's drugged and tried to have his way with. I did what I could to make charges stick, but they never do. The last time…" he ran his thumb along her jaw line, "The last time my ex-girlfriend was his target. I wasn't there that night. No one knew she wasn't acting like herself, and he hurt her—bad."

 

‹ Prev