by Linda Kage
“What’re you guys watching?”
“Some show Papá found,” Miguel answered, stuffing his own handful of popcorn into his mouth.
“Hmm.” I nodded and chewed. “What’s it about?”
“This bookstore manager guy who starts stalking a pretty girl. He just killed her best friend because she was in his way.”
“What?” I shrieked, leaning forward to gape past him toward my father. “Papá, you’re actually letting him watch this?”
Miguel lifted a hand and rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry so much, Gabby. They didn’t show anything, not like they did after he killed the girl’s boyfriend, anyway. Now that was gross. The corpse turned a dark, gray color and—”
“Papá!” I shouted, springing up to find the remote control. “He’s only ten years old. He can’t watch this kind of crap.”
“Nonsense,” Papá snorted, waving aside my concerns. “The boy knows it’s a story and not real. It won’t corrupt him.”
“Yeah, Gabs. Chill out,” Miguel added with a worldly roll of his eyes. “I’m fine.”
I sighed and sat back down to gape at the two males incredulously. They really saw nothing wrong with the situation.
After throwing up my hands in defeat, because I certainly wasn’t Miguel’s legal guardian—I’d just been his one and only mother figure since he was three months old—I crossed my arms over my chest and fell back into the seat beside my brother, muttering, “Just so you know, there’s no room on the couch out here for you too if you wake up from a nightmare and want to crawl into bed with someone else for comfort.”
“Bah,” Papá shot back with a laugh. “Miguel will be okay.”
I sent him a dry glare, unimpressed. He could say that only because I’d been the one Miguel had always come to in the middle of the night when he was scared.
On the screen, some blonde had just crawled onto a bathroom vanity sink and was reaching up to shift a ceiling tile aside. Squinting at the screen, I watched her feel around until she brought down a small wooden box. Inside, she found—surprise, surprise—some underwear (probably hers), photos, a book, a couple phones and—eww—was that a jar full of teeth?
On the screen, the blonde screamed and reared back, dropping the jar on the bathroom floor and shattering it.
“What the hell?” I said, unable to look away as the girl rushed to clean her mess. I reached for another handful of popcorn. “Are those teeth?”
“Yeah,” Miguel seemed eager to share. “They’re Benji’s, Beck’s ex-boyfriend. And that’s his phone and Peach’s phone. Oh wow, look at her. She finally knows Joe’s the bad guy.”
“Let me guess,” I said dryly. “She’s in Joe’s bathroom and that’s him who just came home.”
“Yep,” Miguel answered. “He’s so going to kill her now.”
I glanced at him as if he’d lost his mind, only to turn back to the show and roll my eyes at the awful job the blonde was doing at picking up the broken glass on the floor and putting everything away.
“Oh Jesus.” I flung out a hand and rolled my eyes. “She’s totally going to give herself away with that half-assed cleaning job.” Joe probably really was going to kill her now. I shook my head, disgusted. “She didn’t even straighten the ceiling tile right. How stupid could she—?”
Before finishing the question, I blinked at the television and gasped.
“Of my God!” I cried, smacking the palm of my hand against my forehead. “The ceiling tile. Of course.” Remembering the scuff mark on Lana’s kitchen island, I surged to my feet. “I have to go.”
My father and brother glanced up and frowned as if I’d lost my mind.
“Where do you think you’re going at an hour like this?” Papá asked, shaking his head in confusion.
“I—” Damn, I couldn’t go over there right now. Lana was home. “I need to—I need to make a phone call.”
Hayden had to hear my theory, at least.
Grabbing my phone, I hurried from the front room and down the hall to the bathroom, where I shut myself inside and sat on the closed toilet seat to dial his number with excited but shaking fingers.
Then I pressed the phone to my ear and waited, biting my lip anxiously as I glanced up at the ceiling tiles above my own head.
I hoped I was right. Hayden would flip his shit if we actually found—
“Carmichael,” he answered, making my heart jolt at the sound of his voice.
God, I’d even missed his straightforward, don’t-fuck-with-me-because-I’m-better-than-everyone baritone.
“I think I know where to look,” I blurted without even saying hello.
A pause followed before he said, “Where?” The man didn’t have to ask what I was talking about. He just knew. I loved that we were on the same page, even if we were written in totally different fonts.
“Remember how I thought Lana had done a strip tease for Diego? Because of the scuff mark on the kitchen island’s counter? And the flaked-off ceiling tile? What if she’d been up there for an entirely different reason, like because she had something hidden in the ceiling?”
He was quiet for a moment. I rolled my eyes, assuming he was going to berate me for putting the image of Lana strip-teasing for Diego in his head again. But then he said, “We need to check. Tonight.”
Oh my God, cool! He hadn’t called my idea ridiculous. Or stupid. Or totally not plausible. If he’d been in front of me right now, I probably would’ve kissed him for that alone. And because I just really liked kissing him.
But then I furrowed my brow in concern. “Isn’t she home right now?”
“I’ll see if I can get her out of the apartment. So get ready; I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”
“You—” Pleasure bloomed inside me. He automatically assumed I’d naturally be a part of whatever he was planning. Such inclusion felt nice. “Okay.” I nodded, eagerness filling my veins. “See you soon.”
I hung up and darted from the bathroom, so excited to see him again that I’d forgotten to even tell him goodbye. In the living room, I skidded to a halt when my father and brother glanced up at me curiously. On the screen, the blonde who’d found the box full of panties, phones, and teeth was now trapped behind a glass wall, begging her stalker to let her go free.
“What’s going on?” Papá asked, forcing me to tear my gaze from the television.
“I, um, I’m going out,” I announced.
The guys looked at me as if I’d just regrown Papá’s lost limb out the top of my head.
Wow. It wasn’t that crazy of a declaration. So maybe it’d been a while since I’d gone out on a Friday night, as in pretty much never before. But I was a grown woman; I was allowed to do things on my own that didn’t involve them or work.
Miguel finally cracked a knowing grin. “You’re going to see Hayden, aren’t you?”
Oh, Lord. Save me from smart-ass ten-year-olds.
“As a matter of fact,” I said regally, lifting my chin as if it were no big deal. “I am.”
Clearing my throat, I straightened my spine and tried-but-sort-of-failed to casually stroll toward the bureau that housed my clothes. The problem was the television sat on top of that very bureau and both my father and little brother were eating popcorn and staring right at it.
It made a girl feel completely self-conscious to be watched while she picked out something to wear for a man. I couldn’t exactly choose a new pair of panties like I wanted to either, not without revealing all my intentions to them. Dammit.
“Where’re you going?” Miguel asked. “When’re you coming home? Are you having a sleepover? Can I come too? I want to see where Hayden lives.”
“Miguel,” Papá warned, hushing him with a severe glance. “Let your sister go on a date with the boy by herself.”
“It’s not a—” I started, rolling my eyes, only to cut myself off abruptly. If this wasn’t a date, they’d want to know what Hayden and I would be doing together, then. I couldn’t rightfully tell them we were going
to break into his mother’s condo. So I cleared my throat, and shifted my clothes from one arm to the next, trying to feel comfortable again as I nodded to my father and said, “Thank you, Papá.”
He nodded back. “Have fun, mija. Just be careful. Rich gringos like that always think they can get whatever they want.” He jabbed his finger meaningfully my way. “But you don’t have to give him anything you don’t want to.”
I nodded, charmed by the concern in his eyes, all the while unconcerned by his warning. Because, “Don’t worry, Papá. I never do.”
He might be right. Hayden was rich. He was privileged. He got pretty much anything he wanted, and he expected things to go his way. Yet I knew he wasn’t at all like the type of man my father seemed to think he might be. He’d never treated me like a poor girl who owed him anything, like someone who should look up to him and give him whatever he demanded. He was a highbrow asshat who tended to talk down to everyone he met, and yet he managed to make that feel sophisticated and charming, like I belonged right up there on that level with him. I wasn’t exactly sure how to properly describe him. I just knew he was the most genuine, honest person I could trust my soul with.
And besides, I had no problem telling anyone “no.” It just so happened I didn’t want to say no to Hayden.
As soon as I was dressed, I waved goodbye to Papá and Miguel and shot out of the apartment with so much time to spare that I had to hang outside against the crumbling wall of my building before Hayden’s familiar car pulled to the curb.
Popping forward, I opened the door, already asking, “So what’s the plan?” as I climbed in.
“I called in a favor from my brother,” he answered, checking traffic before he pulled away from the curb. “His job is to get her out of the apartment for at least two hours, preferably more.”
I nodded as I stuffed my phone into my purse. “Do you think he’ll follow through?”
“Brick?” He glanced at me in surprise. “Of course. But he’ll be full of questions. So we better find something worthwhile.”
I shook my head, confused. “Doesn’t he know about everything you’ve been doing?”
Hayden sighed. “No. Not a clue.”
“But…” I opened my mouth only to pause. “I thought you trusted him.”
“I do. With my life. I just didn’t want to bother him with any of this in case it was all a stupid, false paranoia on my part.”
My pulse surged with a strange realization. “So, no one knows what you’ve always suspected?” I asked, making him glance my way. “No one knows how much undercover sneaking around you’ve done to find evidence against Lana?”
He focused on the road as he turned a corner. “Of course, someone knows. You know.”
My lips parted. “You’re saying I’m your only confidante?”
“Don’t look so shocked.” His glance was brief and so unconcerned that I think it freaked me out even more. He’d let me in more than he had anyone else, hadn’t he? And I hadn’t even realized it.
Holy shit.
“I needed you to know so you could help me, remember?”
Except it didn’t matter how he tried to downplay it; I was shocked. Something I knew without a doubt about Hayden was that he didn’t trust easily. And the fact that he’d trusted me above his own brother, who he claimed was the most important person in his life, was—well, it was mind-blowing.
I cleared my throat, refusing to respond, even though I was freaking out inside. Aside from his private investigator and the detective he’d talked to tonight, I was the only person from his personal life that he trusted with his suspicions. The only person he’d told. The only person he’d gone to for help.
From Hayden, that seemed like a pretty damn big deal.
As we reached Preston Estates, my pulse spiked even higher. I could’ve blamed it on the fact that my adventures in B & E were about to continue—planned and premeditated this time—or could it really be classified under breaking and entering since I had a key now?
Anyway, not even I believed that was the reason why I was freaking out inside.
My women’s intuition was telling me that Hayden Carmichael was mine. If I wanted him, physically, emotionally, in any freaking way I wanted him, all I had to do was just take him.
A shiver of anticipation raced through me. I glanced across the interior of the car, but he was paying no attention to me as he squinted at something across the street.
“There,” he murmured, pointing. “That’s Brick’s car. He’s already here.”
I glanced in the direction that he was looking, and my eyebrows shot up. “You mean that really flashy and expensive, bright orange Porsche?”
“Mm hmm.” Too distracted to answer me properly, he frowned at the entrance of Preston Estates.
My eyebrows only lifted more. “And you drive this?” When he frowned at me, I lifted my hands. “Don’t get me wrong. This is a nice luxury car with every amenity there is. But compared to that ostentatious beauty right there, this beige heap is as boring as hell.”
He exhaled and shook his head. “Tells you a lot about our two very different personalities, doesn’t it?”
“I’ll say.”
Turning back to the entrance of the building, I started to get very curious about this brother of his. Lana had pretty much called him a man-whore when describing him the other day, but I’d still kind of pictured him as a replica of Hayden, all dry and sarcastic and scathing with killer glares that made you want to flash your claws out and scratch him…all down the back as he thrust inside you. But, huh, maybe he wasn’t like Hayden at all.
When Hayden sat up suddenly, I glanced at him and then followed his gaze back to Preston Estates. When I made out Lana in the gray evening, my attention turned to the man beside her.
“Is that him?” My brow furrowed in disappointment when I couldn’t get a very good look at him through the dark. “Damn, I can’t see him very well. What does he look like?”
Hayden zipped a startled glance my way. “Why do you want to know what Brick looks like?”
I shrugged and flushed. “No reason. Just curious.” When he continued to frown at me suspiciously, I scowled back and blurted what I really wanted to know, “Is he as hot as you are?”
Damn. I shouldn’t have asked that. It went straight to his head. All he obviously heard was that I’d called him hot.
His eyes flashed with smug awareness and his lips quirked up in that superior, self-satisfied way of his right before he answered, “Of course not.”
I snorted and shook my head. Typical Hayden answer. “Come on,” I said, pushing the door open. “Let’s get in and get out.”
“Good idea.” He followed my lead, hurrying around the car to meet me on the sidewalk. “We probably only have about twenty minutes, so we need to work fast.”
“But I thought you asked your brother to distract her for two hours?”
“You’re right.” He took my hand and hurried us through the side door. “That means we probably only have about ten minutes then. Brick can’t distract Lana worth shit.”
“What?!” I shrieked in alarm. “Ten minutes doesn’t sound like enough time at all.”
He obviously disagreed. “We’re only checking one place. It’ll be plenty of time.”
I nodded, even as I gulped and started to grow a little worried about what we were doing. I actually knew whose place I was breaking into this time, and I was fully aware of just how dangerous she could be. Double-crossing her was not a smart plan. And yet, to help Hayden and Kaitlynn and everyone else, I merely picked up my pace, half jogging to keep up with him.
Her front door was closer than the back, so we went in that way. Hayden snapped his keycard from his pocket, and a quick slide later, we were in, slipping past the diamond-coated door.
We both paused in the entrance a moment after the door shut behind us as if to make certain we were really alone in the apartment, even though we’d both just watched his mother leave.
&nbs
p; We had good reason to be cautious.
Once Hayden felt secure, he squeezed my fingers and rasped, “Okay. Let’s go.”
Dashing through the front room, we hurried down the hall that led into the dining room and then the kitchen.
“I’m taller; I’ll check,” Hayden said as soon as we reached the island.
It wasn’t a good time to argue about who did what—even though I so did love to disagree with him—so I merely nodded and watched as he hiked himself onto the countertop.
I blinked. But damn. Up there on display, he looked good in the jeans and the blue chambray shirt he wore. I’d never seen him out of a suit or tux before. I liked this look just as much. In fact, if he wanted to do a strip show for me right about now, I’d—
“Oh crap, wait,” I cried, wincing when he reached up to touch a tile. “Let me get you some rubber gloves first.”
He glanced down at me and frowned in confusion. “What?”
I rolled out a hand, trying to get him to understand. “You know, in case she finds anything gone. She won’t be able to track the fingerprints back to you.”
His shoulders fell. “I think you’ve seen too many CSI shows. But if it makes you happy—”
“It does.” I raced to the broom closet and grabbed the box in there, returning less than five seconds later. “Here.”
When I pulled two pairs of gloves free from the box, he paused before taking one.
“Frankly, I’m disturbed to see my mother has such a large, economy-sized box full of rubber gloves.” He grimaced before cautiously tugging them on.
I rolled my eyes as I pulled on my own pair. “Don’t be. I’m the one who ordered this box from room service.”
When he lifted an eyebrow, I shrugged. “Trust me, if you’d seen the dildos I had to clean, you would’ve gotten gloves too.”
“Jesus, Gabby!” With a repulsed shudder, he turned away. “You really didn’t have to share that with me?”
I cracked a grin. “But I love watching your face pucker in horror every time I do. So awesome.”
He snorted and shook his head. “You’ve clearly worked here too long. Her evil is wearing off on you.”
Reaching up, he tested the ceiling tiles, lifting them to make sure nothing was sitting on top of any of them.