Don Juan

by Leanne Tyler

  “Give the driver your address and he’ll take us to your place.”

  “So you really are going home with me?”

  “I’ve been assigned to protect you and I will be staying with you until I’m instructed otherwise. We’ve already been over this.”

  “Yea, I guess we have.” She stared at him for a moment, moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, and then leaned up toward the front and told the driver where to go.

  Liam swallowed hard. Damn, but she was going to be a handful.

  Chapter 3

  Simone unlocked her apartment and let Liam go inside first to check it out. She rolled her eyes because she didn’t see how anyone knew where she lived or could have gotten inside if she’d just unlocked the door, but she allowed Mr. Macho Marine guy his due to check out her place before she went inside.

  “You want anything to drink? Water? Coffee?” She asked, going to the kitchen and getting herself a bottle of water.

  “I know it’s late. Really too late to eat, but we skipped dinner thinking we would grab something on our way to the airport. But that didn’t happen when we were called to duty. Could I maybe grab a sandwich or something?” Liam asked.

  Simone grinned. “Sure. Let’s see what I’ve got that’s edible.” She opened up the refrigerator door again and looked inside. “I’ve been out of town this week on business. Just got back and haven’t been to the store yet.”

  “You got peanut butter?” he asked.

  “That I have.” She pulled the half loaf of bread from the shelf and closed the door. “Do you like your bread toasted?”

  “Sure.”

  She put the bread in the toaster and then opened up the cabinet, taking out the jar of peanut butter. Then she got a small plate down as well as a knife from the drawer.

  After making his sandwich she showed him where everything that he might need to know was located in the kitchen while he ate. Then she took him to the spare bedroom where he’d be sleeping.

  “The bedrooms use the same bathroom. It’s a Jack and Jill set up so be sure when you are in here you lock both doors so I don’t walk in on you and I’ll do the same so you don’t walk in on me.”

  “Got it.”

  “Okay. Good night then.”

  Simone went into her room, shut the door and went straight to the bathroom to clean up from where she’d showered before leaving to go out earlier. She didn’t want Liam to think she was a slob. Not that she cared what he thought at the moment. Locking the door, she stripped off and showered again, trying to remove all memory from the night’s events, but it did little good. She couldn’t forget the silver .45 pointed at her face or the gang member’s laugh.

  She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, and began breathing faster and faster at the thought of a bullet really coming out of that gun. She’d be dead right now. She’d known it then, but she hadn’t allowed herself the luxury to dwell upon it. Pushing the water off, she sank to the shower floor, pulled her knees up to her chest and hugged herself close. Laying her head against her knees, the flood gates opened as her anguish and fear released itself with the tears she’d kept bottled up inside.

  Liam settled in the spare room and tried to get comfortable on the bed. He always had a hard time adjusting to a new bed, no matter where he was sleeping. He had just closed his eyes, when he thought he heard muffled crying. His eyes flashed open and he sat up. He turned his head and listened closely. Was it coming from somewhere in the apartment?

  Reaching for his pants, he put them on again. He stood and listened a few more seconds, hoping he could dismiss the sound as a cat in another apartment, but it didn’t stop. It definitely was a woman crying.

  He went to the closed bathroom door, tried the knob and found it locked. “Simone, are you in there?”

  There was no response, but the crying continued. He pressed his ear to the door and the sobs grew louder. They were definitely coming from the other side. It was Simone, whether she had answered him or not. The woman he had met at the bar tonight hadn’t come across as the crying in the shower type, but something now sure had her spooked. And why wouldn’t it? She’d had a gun pointed at her and the trigger pulled. Maybe her fate had finally flashed before her eyes.

  He had to get to her, but breaking down the door wasn’t the answer. She wouldn’t appreciate that. And he was certain Hawkeye wouldn’t either, when the bill to replace the door was delivered to Chicago PD. He thought for a moment. She’d said the bathrooms were Jack and Jill and there was another entrance in her bedroom. That would mean going into her private sanctuary to get to her, and, having two younger sisters, he knew how their rooms were off limits. But he’d take any flack she gave him tomorrow for intruding into her territory.

  He left his bedroom and walked the short distance to her door and, turned the knob, thankful she hadn’t locked it as well. A bedside lamp burned low and he noticed the room was similar to his, except it was decorated in a different style bed and comforter. She had taste like his sister Janine. Spotting the bathroom door, he went to it and opened it.

  The crying sobs greeted him loudly.

  “Simone, are you okay?”

  A frosted shower curtain blocked his view of her, and all he could see was a shadowy image huddled on the floor of the shower. The crying ceased. He heard labored breathing and sniffling before she finally responded to his question.

  “N-no.”

  “Are you hurt?”

  “N-no.”

  “Care to talk about it?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Wouldn’t I?” He saw a slender door in the bathroom and opened it up to find stacks of towels and wash clothes. He pulled out what looked to be the largest towel, one they called a bath sheet. His mom had some of those, and were his favorites. He pushed it through the edge of the shower curtain toward her. “Did you forget I’m here to protect you? I’ve been in combat before. I’ve been if Afghanistan. Helmand to be exact. That is where I was injured and got discharged from my duties as a Marine. So I think I’d understand about anything you could tell me, Sweetheart.”

  “I’m not your sweetheart.”

  “That’s a girl. Your fight’s back all ready. You’re sounding more like the feisty red head I met tonight at the bar. I’m going to step out of here now and let you get dressed. I’ll be waiting in the kitchen if you want to talk. Do you need water or a drink of some kind to help you sleep?

  “Water will be fine.”

  He went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator taking out two bottles of water, then sat down at the table, waiting for her to join him. PTSD wasn’t his forte like it was Wyatt’s, but he’d had his share of therapy sessions during recovery at Walter Reed, working through the feeling of surviving the ordeal. He was certain he could get her at least talking about what happened tonight and listen if nothing else. Sometimes that was all a person needed was someone to listen to what they were feeling.

  It wasn’t long before she opened her bedroom door and came out in pajamas and a robe. Her hair was damp, but combed straight, totally different than it had looked at the bar earlier. She sat stiffly in the chair across from him and stared blankly. He slid her a bottle of water.

  “You have tattoos,” she said.

  “Just a few.”

  “I thought about getting one once, but I couldn’t make up my mind what to get, so I didn’t.”

  “They’re not for everyone.”

  She unscrewed the cap off the water and took a long drink. “You’d never get Carly to do it.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Too timid, uptight. Her ex-husband had her under his thumb for too long. Before that, her parents.”

  “It really doesn’t matter what she’d do. It matters what you’d do, if you wanted one, that is. Do you want one?”

  She nodded. “I might get one. Someday.”

  “Survivor. A simple word tattooed on the underside of your wrist. A reminder that you overcame tonight’s eve
nt.”

  She took another long drink of water. “That. I don’t know why that gun was pointed at me. Why would someone do that? Point a gun at another person and pull the trigger, then laugh like a crazed person when there was a shot fired and no bullet?”

  “It bothered you that he laughed.”

  “Hell yes.”

  “It would have bothered me too. I’d have beaten the SOB if he’d done it to me.”

  “Carly did. With the bat. Not sure he was the same one, but she got one of them. She got Phil’s shooter. While the other two ran away.”

  Liam nodded watching her drain the last of the water before she squashed the bottle with her hands.

  “Do you think you will be able to sleep tonight?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m so agitated right now. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to hit something.”

  He stood up and walked to her, held out his hand for her to take. “Stand up.”

  “What?” She jerked her head up in his direction.

  “I want you to hit me. Hit me with all your might. You won’t hurt me. I’m solid as a rock. Kick, scream, cry, hit. Get it out.”

  Simone stood and did what he asked unsure that he knew what he was doing, but she did it. She threw a few punches. A right. A left.

  Liam shook his head.

  “No. No. Stop.” He grabbed her fist and held it. “You aren’t putting your anger into it. Try it again. This time imagine I’m the gang member who pointed that gun at you. I have pulled that trigger, and I’ve laughed my ass off at you. Release that anger on me.”

  She swallowed, thinking about how that gunman had made her feel. She screamed and she kicked his shins with her bare feet and she hit at him with her fists, pounding against his perfectly, rounded pecks. Beating on his tattoo that said One life, One Chance until the skin around it was red because this was her chance to take back control. She cried, lashing out at him over and over until her body was spent and all she could do was fall against him. His wonderfully large arms wrapped around her, holding her exhausted body against him.

  “Feel better?” he finally asked, breaking the silence.

  “Yes. Surprisingly enough, I do.”

  “Can you sleep now?”

  “I think so.”

  “Perfect.” He scooped her up in his arms and carried her from the kitchen area to her bedroom and sat her down at the foot of her bed. “Goodnight, Simone. I’m on the other side of your bathroom if you need me.”

  “Goodnight, Mr. Donovan.”

  “Liam will do. Or Don Juan as my buddies call me.”

  She grinned. “Don Juan? Should I be worried having you in my apartment?”

  “No Ma’am. Not at all.” He left her, closing her door behind him.

  The next morning Simone was up early making out her shopping lists for the different errands that needed to be run that day. She had recon work to do on her failed business trip and she couldn’t work with her protector in the apartment reminding her of what happened last night. She knew that. Getting out her pent-up frustration had helped her sleep like a baby, but as soon as she got up and heard him in the shower this morning, she’d been on edge all over again because of what his being here meant. She didn’t need him around every minute of the day reminding her of that gun pointed in her face. Not when she had to figure out what she was going to tell her boss on Monday about her not so stellar business trip with Webster-Reynolds.

  She heard the bedroom door open and footsteps coming down the hallway before he arrived. “There’s coffee if you care for a cup.”

  “Thanks. I don’t mind if I do.”

  “I hope you slept well. The guest room is rarely used. Only when my mom and step-dad come to town for a visit.”

  He nodded and picked up the non-dairy creamer, adding some to his cup as well as sugar, then stirring before coming over to the table where she sat. “What’s that?”

  “Shopping lists. I have each store and address at the top, if you don’t mind? Unless I can go with you?”

  “No. I’ll take care of it alone. You should stay here out of sight until Chicago PD has a better handle on what went down last night. I know Hawkeye was hoping to get a lead on the two gang members that got away. Until that happens you are a moving target.”

  “Gee, thanks. That right there makes me feel one hundred times better. Not only did I have a .45 pointed in my face, but now you tell me I’m a moving target.”

  “Figure of speech, but yeah, it pretty much sums it up. As long as you stay in your apartment or have me with you when you go out, then you should be safe.”

  “But you don’t know that for sure.”

  “No. I don’t. But I am here to protect you.”

  Simone reached for her purse and pulled out what cash she had. I think this will cover it. If not, here is a credit card. The pharmacy has my card on file and can do express pay.”

  “Got it. I’ll be back as soon as I can then.”

  “Take your time. I’m going to do some work for a client for Monday. I’ll see you when you return.”

  Chapter 4

  Liam was halfway through the shopping list Simone had given him when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled his shopping cart over in the aisle and looked to see who was trying to reach him. It was Brand wanting a status update.

  He quickly typed his response.

  “Help! I’m being domesticated. She’s got me doing her grocery shopping! ”

  “Hey man. You wanted the redhead. Suck it up. Otherwise everything okay on your end?”

  “Yeah. Sweet pad. Got my own room. What about you?”

  “Sofa sleeper.”

  “Better than the floor.”

  “Do me a favor. Find out about Carly’s ex-husband. I think he’s keeping tabs on her. I need to know what I’m dealing with over here.”

  “Will do. Over and out.”

  Carly’s ex-husband. Simone had mentioned him last night. What had she said about him? Liam thought for a moment. Oh yeah. They’d been talking about tattoos. Simone had said Carly was too uptight to get one. That it had much to do with her ex-husband keeping her under his thumb and that her parents were much the same. Maybe Brand needed to know that.

  He typed the message, but didn’t hit send. He debated about whether that info was hearsay or fact as he continued on down the aisle looking for the next item on the list. He hesitated for quite a while as he shopped trying to make up his mind if it was something Brand needed to know or not. In the end as he finished the list at the first store, he decided to delete the text and hoped he’d made the right choice.

  Simone refilled her coffee cup and was headed back to her desk to work when her cellphone rang. She grabbed it, saw it was Carly and instead, headed for the living room.

  “Hey, good to hear your voice, are you alone?” Simone curled up in the oversized armchair in her living room.

  “Yes. Are you?” Carly said on the other end of the line.

  “I am. Sent my guy out shopping. What did you do?”

  “Same. Or rather, he insisted. The reason I called, I got word on Colleen. She’s still at the hospital. Brand said it was because she was resting last night, but I have a funny feeling something more is going on than he is telling me. He also said she’s awake and that the doctor was checking her out, and that her parents are there arguing on which one is going to take her home. That makes me believe something happened last night we don’t know about, otherwise why would they be arguing over her going home with one of them?”

  “You always have a sixth sense, Carly, except when it came to Justin Porter. If you have a feeling something isn’t right with Colleen I believe you. We should go to the hospital and see her.”

  “I don’t know. It’s too risky. I believe what Brand said about our lives being in danger.”

  “Are you sure you can trust him completely? Especially if he is keeping secrets about Colleen from us.”

  “Maybe he is telling me all he can, whe
n he can. Besides, he found a man watching my place last night. The man was still here this morning and Brand found out the guy works for Justin Porter.”

  Simone thought about that for a quick second, her mind working overtime. She pulled up the Uber app on her phone and punched in her ride request. “I’m coming over. You don’t need to be left alone if that slime ball Porter has a man following you.”

  “What about your safety, Simone?” Carly asked. “I don’t want you putting your life in jeopardy on my account. You’ve already had a gun pointed at you and the trigger pulled.”

  “Don’t you worry your pretty little head over that. Donnie and I had a long discussion about it this morning and we agree it was a fluke.”

  “Donnie?”

  “Donovan. My guy. He said he got the nickname Don Juan from his Marine buddies, but until I see him put the moves on me and earns those stripes I’m going to refer to him as Donnie.”

  “Simone, be real. He’s not going to put the moves on you. He’s here to protect you. Not seduce you.”

  “No man alive can resist me when I make a play for him. Just you watch. I’ll have little Donnie in my hands before the weeks out.”

  “Little Donnie. I don’t even want to know what you mean by that.”

  “You already do, Carly.” Simone rolled her eyes at her friend. “So tell me, when are you going to put my handcuffs to work?”

  “None of your business. I don’t kiss and tell.”

  “Isn’t that the truth? You’re no fun in the bedroom.” She took a breath hoping her bravado kept the truth from her friend. She’d had to talk fast to keep her mind off that gun when Carly brought it up. “I’ve just got confirmation from my Uber on pickup. I’ll be there soon and I’ll call when I’m outside your building.”

  “You really shouldn’t be doing this.”

  “Be ready when I get there. We’re going to see Colleen.”

  Simone ended the call, knowing that if she didn’t give Carly time to protest that her friend had no other choice than to go along with her on this. Bravado or not, it would give her and Liam good fodder for an argument that could lead to excellent foreplay. She’d had some of the best sex after a heated fight with a lover. Not that Liam would necessarily go along with that plan, but the idea of sex right now to get her mind off of that gun and bullet sounded like the thing to get lost in.