Through it all, he hadn't left her side for more than a few minutes. And then that night, the night everything changed, he'd kissed her. Right there in the hotel room, after she'd successfully stolen the files from Bruno, giving his team the information they needed to make multiple arrests. Not to mention the information they needed to find the identity of The General, a man who'd been using them as pawns since they were youths.
"You need to be afraid. I could hurt you," Zach said quietly, tearing her away from her thoughts.
"You wouldn't have hurt me. You woke up. It goes against who you are to hurt me."
"Maybe so, but when I'm in that state, I can't tell who is my enemy and who is my friend. I'm not seeing what's in front of me. I'm seeing my past."
Quita sat down on the bed next to him, taking his hand in hers.
"What happened?"
Zach inhaled deeply, as if he were about to share his secrets with her. But then his phone buzzed in his pocket, and the moment was broken. Disappointed, Quita dropped his hand as he answered the phone.
"Harper. Yeah…no, we're good. Yeah, we'll head out early evening and go in under dark. I'll call after. Ok, thanks."
Zach ended the call and turned to Quita. "That was Sully, just checking in. Let's get some dinner. Sound good?"
"Yeah, I just need…" Quita tugged at the t-shirt of Zach's she was wearing.
"Oh, right. I went out and purchased some things. I checked the sizes on the clothes you had on. I hope you don't mind."
"No, not at all. Thanks."
Quita pulled out the jeans, t-shirt, and cotton underwear he'd bought for her. She smiled at the sensible choice he'd made. It warmed her heart to see that he'd picked something so basic rather than a black lace thong.
When she came out of the bathroom, Zach was propped up against the counter, waiting for her.
"Do they fit?"
"Yeah, thanks. I appreciate it."
Zach smiled. "You're welcome. Ready for some food?"
Quita's stomach growled at the reminder that she hadn't eaten in quite some time. Zach laughed, holding out his hand to her. She took it, and they walked out of the motel room and out to the car.
Zach drove them to a local restaurant a couple of miles up the road. It appeared to have been an old house that had been renovated and converted into an Italian restaurant.
An older woman, with long black hair streaked with gray around her face, greeted them, taking them to a table near the window. Quita caught the pitying look the woman gave her. She'd forgotten about her bruises. Self-consciously, Quita pulled her hair forward to help hide the worst ones.
Fortunately, there weren't many people there at four in the afternoon, so the place was empty except for several older couples eating an early dinner. Their server arrived quickly, and Quita was grateful that she acted as if nothing were amiss and that Quita weren't sitting there with a face that had more colors than the rainbow.
They ordered their food—penne with vodka sauce for her, and spaghetti Bolognese for Zach.
Quita whispered, "Everyone keeps looking at me."
"They probably think I beat you," he said quietly.
"You're right. They probably do."
She laughed when Zach looked offended. "Well, it's true."
"I'd never hit you. Not on purpose."
"I know that. You're a good man, Zach. I hate that I've dragged you into this mess. Again."
"Do you have any idea who's after you?"
She hesitated before answering. She wasn't certain it was Tobias Winters, but that seemed to make the most sense. "I think it's Tobias."
"Why would Winters want the drive?"
"Why would anyone who's listed in Bruno's records want the information? I’m sure for Tobias it's twofold: protect his own neck, and control the information so he can use it against others—something to hold over their heads to get them to do his bidding."
Zach nodded, his face contemplative as he mulled over her words. He sat up, suddenly more serious and determined than he had been.
"I want you to stay here," he said.
"Here? At the restaurant?" she asked, purposely misunderstanding him.
"Of course not. But at the motel. I'll go to the hostel and retrieve the drive."
"Not a chance, Zach."
"It could be dangerous. Those guys might be waiting for you. Or Tobias might have sent others."
"All the more reason for you not to go alone. I'm not staying here, plus you won't be able to find it."
"It can't be that difficult," Zach protested.
"I hid it so that no one would find it. It's not like I just left the drive out in the open. It will take you too long to search."
"I don't want you in danger anymore."
"So you think I'll just sit back at the motel while you go play the hero and take on the bad guys all by yourself?"
"Better than having you in danger."
"Zach, I'm not a child. I've been dealing with the likes of Tobias Winters for several years."
"That doesn't mean you have to continue dealing with him."
"And how do you plan to protect me? Keep me locked up somewhere? Be by my side all the time? It's not that easy, Zach. You can't protect me from everything."
"Maybe not. But I can protect you from this."
Quita opened her mouth to protest further, but Zach lifted a finger to stop her.
"However, I'll admit that it will go faster if you are there to show me where the drive is hidden. We do this my way, though. Is that clear?"
"Crystal."
Quita saluted him, and Zach smirked. "Smartass."
Their food arrived, and they scarfed it down, both of them hungry after so many hours without eating.
When they had finished, Zach leaned forward, lowering his voice.
"We'll park several blocks over and go in on foot."
Quita nodded. Good idea in case anyone was watching.
"The idea will be to get in and get out. We won't have much time for you to do more than retrieve the drive and throw a few things into a duffel bag."
"I don't have anything of value with me. Just a few clothes."
"Perfect. Then we get out of there. We'll walk back to the car and get the hell out of New York City."
"Thank you," Quita said.
"For what?"
"Coming. Being here. Helping me."
Zach squeezed her hand, which was lying on the table. "Any time."
Sitting back, he pulled his wallet from his pants pocket and threw down a few bills. "Ready?"
Quita stood, following Zach out to the door. "I'm going to pop into the bathroom for a minute," she said as they reached the entryway.
"I'll wait for you in the car," he said, and walked out to the car.
Quita went into the bathroom, cringing at her reflection in the mirror. The purple had already begun to blossom into other colors—green, yellow, dark blue. She needed to stop and get some foundation to try to cover this.
She entered the stall and heard the door to the bathroom open and close. When she exited, her waitress was standing there.
"Hi," Quita said. But the waitress didn't return her greeting. Quita washed her hands at the sink, and still the woman stared at her.
"Is something wrong? Did he not tip enough?"
A sad smile pulled at the woman's mouth. "No, he tipped generously."
"So then what's the problem?"
The woman reached inside her apron pocket and pulled out a card.
"Here. In case you need to talk to someone. They can help you get out."
Quita looked at the card in her hand.
You deserve better. Call 1-800-STAND-UP for help today. You don't have to stay in an abusive relationship.
Jerking her gaze up to the waitress, Quita pushed the card back at her. "You've got it all wrong. He didn't hit me."
The woman's sadness seemed to increase. "I know he's good-looking and all, but it's not worth it."
Quita knew it was
futile to try and argue, but she was angered that anyone would think poorly of Zach. He was the best man she'd ever met, and if there was any chance she could get the woman to understand, then she would try.
"Zach saved me from the men who did this. He's just a friend. If it weren't for him, I'd be dead right now."
The woman seemed to consider her words. "You don't owe him."
"Actually, I do. I owe him my life. Zach would never raise a hand to hurt me." Her thoughts jumped to that morning when Zach had crawled on top of her and tried to choke the life out of her, seeing not her, but some unknown enemy instead.
The woman noticed her hesitation and pushed the card back at her. "Just in case."
The waitress turned and went through the door and back out to the restaurant. Quita rushed through the rest of washing her hands and hurried back toward the parking lot, where Zach was waiting.
When she exited the restaurant's doors, however, she stopped. Fear racing up her spine.
Zach was standing there surrounded by three very large men. Truckers, if their attire was any indication of what they did for a living.
"We'll teach you to hit a girl," one of them was saying.
"Wait!" Quita shouted, but it was too late. One of the men grabbed Zach, pinning his arms behind him. Zach tried to get out of the hold, but the man who'd been talking shoved his fist into his gut.
Zach doubled over, and Quita rushed to his side, trying to shout over the men hurling insults at him.
"Stop! It's not what you think!" she kept shouting.
The other man punched Zach across the face. Blood oozed from his split lip. She grabbed the man's arm, pulling on it to stop him.
"Why would you protect him?" the man snarled at her.
"He didn't do this to me. He saved me from the men who did. Leave him alone. Please."
Something in her eyes must have convinced the man that she was telling the truth. "Are you just protecting him?"
"I wouldn't protect someone who beat me up this bad." Quita turned her palms over, showing the man the scrapes there. "See? I tried running from them. Zach got there just in time and beat the guys up until they ran off."
The three men looked at each other. Finally, the biggest of the three nodded at the guy who was holding Zach. He released him. The trucker reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. Harvey Metcalf.
"You ever need anything or get into any kind of trouble, you just call. You hear?"
Quita squeezed his hand. She couldn't help but be touched by the man's concern for her. He'd stepped in on behalf of a stranger. In a world where people turned their heads away from the unpleasantness of others’ situations, it was heartwarming that a stranger had come to her defense.
"Thank you," she said.
The man stuck his hand out to Zach. "Sorry, man. I thought you'd roughed her up. I've got a sister about her age. Infuriated me that anyone could hurt someone so much smaller."
Zach stared at his hand, bent over at the waist as he tried to suck air into his bruised diaphragm. He wiped the blood from his lip, and then wiped his hand on his pants. Reaching out, he grabbed the other man's hand in a firm shake.
"No worries," he said. Then, looking at her, he asked, "You ready?" He raised a brow in question, and Quita felt terrible. With a quick nod, she thanked the men again and slid into Zach's sleek black Mercedes. She'd been too out of it the night before to notice the luxury car.
When Zach pulled out of the parking lot, Quita asked, "Are you ok?"
"Fine."
"I’m sorry," she said softly.
Zach pinned her with a glare. "Why in the world are you sorry?"
"Well, those men—they were defending me. Wrongly so. They had the wrong man, but still…"
Zach sighed heavily and reached for her hand. "If I wasn't who I am, and I had been beating you, I'd want someone to stick up for you. You have nothing to be sorry about."
"The waitress followed me into the bathroom and gave me this card." Quita drew out the card and handed it to Zach.
Zach's mouth pulled into a smile. "You're a shitload of trouble, Quita, and yet you inspire total strangers to come to your rescue."
He lifted their joined hands to his mouth and kissed the back of her hand. She thought he would let go of her hand after that, but instead, he held it in his as he drove them back to the city.
She should pull away. After all, nothing could ever happen between her and Zach. She would only bring him heartache.
But at that moment, there was nothing in the world that could tear her hand from his. For now, she'd enjoy it.
Chapter 4
Tall buildings towered over them as they exited the car. The smell of the sewer system that ran beneath the city was stronger on this side of town. Zach was furious at her. What had she been thinking, staying in a place like this? She'd been lucky not to have contracted hepatitis or been knifed in her sleep.
Good Lord, the woman was maddening. Did she think she was capable of taking on the entire world alone?
Quita marched ahead, unaware of her surroundings and daring anyone to get in her way. Zach jogged to catch up with her, tugging on her arm to slow her down.
"They may still be here, watching. We need to go in carefully," he said.
"I thought that was why we parked way out here?"
"Well, it was. But we still need to be careful."
Fear momentarily lit her eyes, then, just as quickly, was replaced by determination.
"Fine. There's another way in."
Zach followed her around the corner to a door that bore different numbers from the address she'd given him earlier. He looked at her questioningly, but she just shook her head. Quita pounded on the door, and a black man with dreadlocks falling down his back opened it. The man was ripped, with bulging biceps, a wide chest, and dimples, for crying out loud.
"Hey, Chaquita! Long time, no see, baby doll," the man said, opening the door wide and scooping Quita up in a big bear hug.
"Good to see you, Jules. This is my friend, Zach."
The man put Quita down and stuck out his hand to shake Zach's. Zach took it, noticing that the man had quite a grip on him. Jules eyed him speculatively, then glanced back at Quita. Noticing her bruised face, he dropped Zach's hand and pulled her into the building.
"Ran into some trouble last night," she explained, before he could ask.
Jules’s face lost its jovial smile and replaced it with a look that Zach recognized as his “Don't mess with my friends” face. He turned that stare on Zach.
Zach puffed out his chest. He might be three inches shorter and twenty pounds lighter, but he wasn't a man to mess around with. He'd been trained to inflict serious damage with his hands when necessary. It didn't matter if he was outsized. Quita, feeling the tension rolling off the two men, stepped in between them, placing a hand on each of their chests.
"Zach rescued me."
Jules's face changed, and he motioned them inside.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked Quita.
"I need to get back to my place. Can we use the passageway?"
"Of course you can. But why can't you use the front door?"
"Remember how I told you about keeping my whereabouts a secret? That people might come looking for me?"
He nodded.
She pointed to her face. "They found me."
"So why are you here?"
"They want something I have, and I need to get it from my room. We're afraid they're watching. This is the best way of getting in and out without being detected."
Jules led them into a small room off the kitchen. The room was barely big enough for a small desk and chair. Jules moved the desk that sat in front of an old, antique door—the kind with glass knobs and old iron hinges.
When the door opened, it revealed a brick wall. Zach could see that there was a narrow passageway going off to the left, barely big enough for a person to squeeze through.
"Where does this lead?" he asked Quita. He'd hate
to be caught in there if someone were after them.
"The hostel. There's a back room there that has a similar setup, only there's no desk in front of it. Do you have the key I gave you?" she asked Jules.
"Right here," he said, pulling an old iron key from a cup on the desk.
"You planned this?" Zach asked.
"No. But I knew there was a possibility that Tobias would come for the drive. I needed a way in and out of the hostel if that happened."
"Smart," Zach said, following Quita into the passageway. He had to suck in his breath to slide between the walls. It would definitely not be good for anyone with claustrophobia.
"Thanks, Jules," Quita said as she shimmied down the passage.
"Anytime. Don't be a stranger," he said and blew her a kiss. Quita giggled, and Zach was struck with jealousy.
Who was this man who could make her giggle like a schoolgirl? If he weren't helping them out, Zach would want to bash his head in. As it stood, however, it was probably a good idea not to piss off the man helping them to gain entry into Quita's building without being detected.
The passageway wasn't long, only about twenty-five feet or so. When they reached the end, Quita struggled to get the key in the door. The corridor was so tight, it was difficult to get the right angle for the key. Finally, she inserted the key into the hole and turned it.
The door opened into another small room, this one used for storage.
"Is the other door open?" Zach asked, nodding at the closed door to the next room.
"Yeah, there's no lock on it."
Quita pushed through the stacks of boxes and old signs between them and the door, and opened it. It let them out into a hallway with a staircase that zigzagged up the building.
Quietly, they walked up the steps, passing by junkies with glazed eyes and girls who clearly made their living on the streets. The heavy smell of cigarette smoke and pot hung in the air. When they reached the top floor, Quita led them down a hallway. They stopped in front of door 7B.
Castle Investigations Box Set Page 76
