Earlier, he had called in a favor. Which was something he didn’t make a habit of doing, but this was important. He needed to take care of this issue once and for all.
After punching in the entry code, he waited as the oversize security gate slowly opened. He drove through the community, passing one huge home after another, looking for the street that would take him to Ross Hoakley’s home.
Deep down, he knew paying Ross a visit wasn’t a good idea, but all day, he couldn’t shake what Egypt had admitted to him. The thought of anyone trying to force himself on her made Kenton crazy. Which was why he had contacted Lazarus Dimas, a former Atlanta police detective. Now Laz worked with him at Supreme, but still had connections in high and low places. Without needing details on why Kenton wanted Ross’s information, Laz had delivered.
Kenton slowed in front of a large, Tudor style brick home with dormer windows and a three-car attached garage. He double checked the information on his cell phone against the address on the mailbox before parking and shutting off the engine.
According to his intel, Ross should be pulling up in the next few minutes.
Just don’t do anything stupid.
The warning vibrated in Kenton’s mind. He didn’t want Egypt, or any other woman, to endure pain at the hands of Ross again. Since leaving her that morning, Kenton hadn’t been able to think of much else. It didn’t matter that she wasn’t officially his. He felt a fierce protectiveness toward her that he couldn’t explain, and there was no way in hell he could sit back without doing something. He had to ensure Ross stayed away from her.
All I’m going to do is talk to him.
Kenton glanced at his watch. At almost seven-thirty in the evening, the sun had just set, and the October night offered a cool breeze through his partially lowered window. The air did nothing to tap down the anxiousness surging through his body, but memories of waking up with Egypt that morning brought a smile to his face. Despite sleeping on her sofa, it had been the best sleep he’d gotten in a long time. Probably because she had been curled up against him. Which was something he could get used to.
When a car turned the corner, Kenton straightened at the headlights coming into view. The vehicle slowed and parked in Ross’s driveway.
“Welcome home,” Kenton said to himself, glad the guy didn’t pull into the garage. After confirming that the BMW’s license plate number matched the information that he had, Kenton exited his truck.
“Mr. Hoakley?” he called out the moment Ross climbed out of his car, a briefcase in his hand. Looking as pristine and arrogant as he had the day before, he squinted at Kenton.
“Yeah, who are you?”
“A friend of Egypt’s,” Kenton said as he closed the distance, noticing the moment recognition dawned in Ross’s eyes. To the man’s credit, he didn’t shrink back despite being several inches shorter, and at least thirty pounds lighter than Kenton.
“What are you doing here?” Ross glanced around, finding none of his neighbors outside. “How did you find me?”
Kenton stopped a foot away from the guy. “It doesn’t matter. I thought we needed to talk.”
Ross huffed out a breath. “I said all I had to say last night. I don’t want any trouble, and I’ll stay away from Egypt.”
“Yeah, about that. Now that I’ve learned that you tried to force yourself on her, I—”
“Is that what that little tease said?” His face twisted into a snarl. “What other lies did she tell you?”
“Are you saying you didn’t try to rape her?”
“Of course I didn’t!” he ground out, irritation dripping from his words. “We were dating. The slut wa—”
“Be careful,” Kenton warned, fists balled at his side as anger crawled through his body. All he planned to do was ensure Ross stayed away. But if the man started talking crazy, he couldn’t guarantee that he would leave him unscathed.
“I didn’t do anything that she didn’t want. One minute the woman is all over me. Then all of a sudden, she changes her mind. You know how it is, man,” Ross said with a shrug, acting as if he and Kenton were friends.
The arrogant ass.
“Hell, it’s not like men can just shut it down after things start getting hot and heavy. She might’ve been a little shy about getting busy in my office, but I didn’t do anything that she wasn’t begging for. She…”
Kenton didn’t even feel himself move. Suddenly, his hand was gripping the man’s neck. He shoved him against the luxury vehicle.
Ross’s eyes grew wide, and his briefcase fell to the ground. “Get…off me.”
Kenton squeezed the man’s neck, ignoring the way he gasped for air. “Did Egypt say no?” he asked through gritted teeth. “Did she try pushing you off her? Did she tell you to stop?”
“Didn’t…rape her.”
“You tried forcing yourself on a defenseless woman. Similar to what you did yesterday, right?”
“I—I stopped. Di—didn’t…rape her.” He panted, pulling down on Kenton’s wrist, trying to free himself. “Can’t…breathe.”
Kenton tightened his hold. He should let go. But he couldn’t. He hated men who took advantage of women. Making them afraid of every other male that came into their life. He had seen it too many times during his career and had no tolerance for assholes who couldn’t take no for an answer.
“Now you know how it feels when a woman says stop, but the perpetrator, you, don’t heed the request. Are you panicking? Are you afraid for your life? Scared that you’re going to die, and no one will come to your rescue? That’s how they feel. That’s how Egypt felt. And I’m sure she hasn’t been your only victim.”
Fury soared through Kenton, making him angrier by the minute. He’d bet money that Egypt hadn’t been the first or the last woman that Ross had mistreated. Kenton hadn’t intended to put his hands on the guy. All he’d planned to do was talk. Now he wanted to scare the shit out of the man. Make him think twice about touching Egypt or any other woman inappropriately again.
“Go near Egypt again….” Kenton’s face was inches from Ross. “And I will hunt your ass down and make you sorry you ever met me. Assault another woman, and I will destroy you,” he growled, before jerking him away.
Ross bent over coughing, struggling to catch his breath as he rubbed his neck. Kenton slowly backed away, moving toward his truck. When he first arrived, he knew it was a bad idea to pay Ross a visit, but now he was glad they’d had a conversation and an understanding.
With one last look at Ross, who glared back, Kenton climbed into his Yukon. After pulling away from the curb, he checked his rearview mirror, seeing that Ross was still standing next to his vehicle.
It wasn’t his nature to threaten people, but when it came to Egypt, Kenton would do a lot more than just threaten.
*
The next morning, Kenton climbed out of his SUV and grabbed the muffins, and coffee, that he had picked up on the way to his friend’s house. He jogged up the five concrete stairs and rang the doorbell of Caleb Zander, a good friend and former therapist for the FBI.
“Well, hi there,” Dora, Caleb’s wife, greeted. She opened the door wider and stood on tiptoe to place a kiss on Kenton’s cheek. “Come on in.”
“It’s awfully quiet in here.”
“That’s because our rug rats are at my parents’ house,” she said of their two-year-old son and four-year-old daughter. “It felt good to get ready for work without the usual drama.”
He gave her one of the coffees and muffins that he’d picked up, and they chatted a few minutes before he asked, “Is the old man up yet?”
“Oh yeah, he’s up. He’s camped out in his office like usual, probably watching CNN or MSNBC since he has the morning off. Go on back.”
Kenton strolled pass the staircase that led to the upstairs and turned down a short hallway. The soles of his shoes against the hardwood floors were the only sounds until he reached the last door on the right.
“So, this is what you do when no one’s watch
ing,” he said from the doorway. Caleb, leaning back in his chair, had his feet propped on the desk. Dora had been right. His attention was on the flat screen television. Don Lemon plastered across the screen making a rare a.m. appearance.
“What’s up, man?” he asked, lowering his feet to the floor and meeting Kenton in the middle of the room. “I would shake your hands, but they seem a little full. I hope some of that is for me.”
“You know it. I wouldn’t come over empty-handed.”
“I take it you had the nightmare again. Otherwise, I doubt you would’ve graced me with your presence this early in the morning. And the fact that you brought my favorite muffins and strong coffee means you’re shaken up pretty good.”
Kenton chuckled. “Well, damn.” He handed his friend a cup of coffee and the bag of muffins, then made himself comfortable on the leather sofa. He took a sip of the dark liquid. “Am I that predictable?”
“Yeah, but I will never turn down an excellent cup of Joe or a sweet morning treat. So what’s up?”
“Had the dream again.”
“I figured as much.”
“I keep seeing Quaid’s lifeless eyes staring up at the sky, and Santana’s outstretched hand trying to reach me. I feel…”
Kenton’s chest tightened. Helplessness had a choke hold around his neck, as flashes of the dream invaded his mind. He leaned forward and set the coffee cup on top of a magazine, huffing out a breath hoping to remove the heavy weight settling around him. At least yesterday he hadn’t woken in a cold sweat, which sometimes happened after the dream. Spending the other night with Egypt had taken his mind off of his own issues.
But last night, everything rushed back to him. The ambush. Seeing Quaid and Santana go down. Then there were the bullet wounds he had sustained. According to the doctor who had operated on him, it had been a miracle that he had survived his injuries. He had, for the most part, recovered physically with an ache here and there. Mentally and emotionally, would he ever be able to really put that time in his life behind him?
“It’s been awhile. You haven’t mentioned having nightmares in well over a year. What do you think triggered the dream again?”
Kenton didn’t bother telling him that it had been the second nightmare within days. During his recovery, he’d been required to meet with a therapist, which he did for a few months. When he decided to leave the FBI, he still wanted to talk to someone. He just didn’t want it to be in a formal setting, and he didn’t want it to be considered a therapy session. Caleb seemed to be the obvious choice. They talked often, but with him, it felt more like two friends discussing their day.
“The anniversary of their death is coming up. That’s the only thing I can think of that might’ve triggered the dreams to start again.”
Caleb took a careful sip of his coffee and stared at Kenton over the rim before setting the cup down. “That could be it, or is there something else going on in your life, something that might be causing stress?”
“Nothing I can think of. I’ve had some long work days, but I’m still lovin’ my job.”
“Are you still blaming yourself for Santana and Quaid’s death?”
Sometimes he hated having friends, or a therapist in this case, who knew him so well. “How was the poker game last week?” Kenton asked instead of answering.
Caleb smirked and shook his head. “Alrighty then. You don’t have to answer, but the dreams are probably connected to the anniversary and the fact that you’re still blaming yourself for their deaths. Kenton, you—”
“I already know the speech. It wasn’t my fault.” He said the words, and he wanted to believe them, but… “Let’s go back to discussing the poker game.”
“What else have you been up to?” Caleb asked.
Kenton chuckled, and reached for the bag of muffins, pulling one out for himself. “Now who’s the one avoiding questions? I take it poker night didn’t go well.”
Caleb gave a noncommittal shrug. “It was okay. It’s nice to get together with the fellas.”
“Does that mean your pockets were lighter once the game was over?”
“You’re such a wise ass. If you start back playing with us, then I’d have a better chance of walking out with some money.”
“Ha, ha, ha. Nah, man, I can’t afford to play with you guys. The stakes are too high.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Soon I might not be able to afford to hang with the group either. Unlike you, I don’t make the big bucks. How’s life at Supreme?”
“Life is great. No complaints. I work with a bunch of cool guys…well, people.”
“And in people, I assume you mean the gorgeous Ms. Egypt.”
“If that’s your way of asking how my pursuit is going, I’m making progress. I think.”
“Man, you’ve been saying that for months.” Caleb laughed. “From what you’ve told me of Egypt, she sounds like a helluva woman, but maybe you should cut your losses and move on. You know wifey has been wanting to fix you up with one of her friends. It might be time to take her up on her offer. Her matchmaking track record is good.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
But Kenton couldn’t see himself with anyone else. At least not until he knew for sure there was no chance with Egypt. If their kisses and the way their bodies responded to each other were any indication, she’d be coming around to his way of thinking soon.
But first, he needed to figure out what deep secret held her back. He knew it wasn’t her fear of fraternizing. Something else was keeping Egypt Durand from him, and he had every intention of finding out who or what.
Chapter Ten
Before reaching the kitchen at Supreme Security, Kenton could hear Angelo singing about ordinary people taking it slow. If he hadn’t known better, he would’ve thought John Legend, the R & B artist, was in the building.
“You really should find an agent and start making some money off of that voice,” he said strolling into the state-of-the-art kitchen.
Angelo stood in front of the refrigerator with the door open and barely glanced over his shoulder. “Good morning to you too. And I think about finding an agent each time I have to deal with a client who doesn’t want to do what I say to keep them safe.”
“Yeah, and some make me want to strangle them my own damn self,” Lazarus Dimas said strolling into the kitchen.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” Angelo closed the refrigerator, a small bottle of apple juice in his hand. “Well, some of us have work to do. I’m outta here. Catch y’all later.” He fist bumped them and slipped out the door.
Kenton carried a cup of coffee to the table while Laz filled his travel mug with the strong brew. “You ready for our assignment?”
“Yup, Egypt sent me the information last night.” Laz stood next to the table. At over six feet tall, he was a little shorter than Kenton and not as wide, but the man exuded power and danger. Part Greek, part Irish, his fiery personality matched his genetic background.
Despite the rumors of Laz being a dirty cop, Kenton new better. His friend was a strong-willed man ready to do whatever necessary to get bad guys off the streets. Making him all right in his book. He couldn’t think of anyone, with maybe the exception of Angelo, who he’d want to have his back. Loyal to a fault, Laz would give his life for his family and friends.
“So how did it go with the info you asked for yesterday? Did you take care of your situation?”
“It’s done,” Kenton said, giving a noncommittal shrug. Saying more to Laz, a person who was a master interrogator would lead to more questions. Egypt didn’t want the other night at the restaurant mentioned to their friends, and Kenton planned to respect her wishes.
He and Laz discussed logistics of their upcoming assignment. The one they were scheduled to begin in just over an hour.
“Excuse me, guys.”
Kenton glanced at the new front desk receptionist standing in the kitchen doorway. Her blue-eyed gaze bounced from him to Laz and then back to him. He wasn’t surprised
to see that her long hair, which was blonde last week, was now red. She changed hair color as often as she changed clothes.
“Kenton, there are a couple of detectives here to see you.”
He frowned and lowered his mug to the table. “All right. I’ll be right there.” She nodded before leaving them alone.
“What’s that all about?” Laz asked, eyeing him warily.
“I have no idea.” But in the back of his mind, Kenton couldn’t help wondering if Egypt’s ex had filed a complaint.
“Need some backup?”
Kenton chuckled. “With your reputation at Atlanta PD? I don’t think so. They might hall my ass to jail just by association.”
“Ha, ha, whatever.”
They strolled down the long hallway toward the front of the building. Kenton slowed, surprised to see Ashton Chambers, Laz’s old partner, and another guy.
“What’s up, Ash?” Laz said, shaking the big man’s hand, and Kenton followed suit.
They’d met a few times at events that Journey and Laz hosted. Kenton also heard that Ashton was thinking about joining Supreme’s team for a few short-term assignments.
“What’s going on fellas?” he asked, his question mostly directed at Ashton.
“This is my partner, detective Milton Adams.” Ashton introduced the tall, lanky man and Kenton shook the guy’s hand. Laz kept his distance. Considering the way the two men glared at each other, it was safe to say there was bad blood between them.
“Mr. Bailey, we need to ask you a few questions,” Adams said.
Kenton directed them a short distance away from the receptionist desk to the waiting area. The spot held a couple of leather sofas, a table and offered enough privacy to where conversation couldn’t easily be overheard.
“What’s this about?” He split his attention between the two men.
“Do you know a Ross Hoakley?” Ashton asked.
Kenton narrowed his eyes. “Why?”
Ashton let out a long breath. For the first time since finding out they were in the building, alarm swept through Kenton. Had the guy gone to the cops after all?
Accused Page 7
