Tracking Numbers: A Bad Boy Protector Romance (Lost Boys Book 1)

by Janice M. Whiteaker

  That I fought genetics and won. It looks like I will have to keep fighting.

  Maybe forever.

  I blow out a breath as I slip off my pumps and wiggle my toes. I might as well stay and straighten up. Not like I have anything exciting waiting for me at home. I rub my eyes and try to remember that it’s by design. Excitement and I don’t do well together. It brings out the worst in me.

  Plus I’ve already had enough of the E word this week to last me a lifetime.

  My stomach clenches at the memory I’ve been trying not to replay every waking minute since Saturday night.

  What in the hell is wrong with me?

  Women like the one I try to be don’t act like that. I’m a math professor for God’s sake. I’m supposed to be rational. Careful. Calculating.

  And maybe I am. Two of those anyway.

  “Hey, Kerr.”

  I cringe at the sound of Nelson’s voice behind me, then I plaster on a polite smile and turn to face the ex that won’t quit.

  “Hi.” It sounds short and I feel bad. Nelson isn’t a bad guy. Necessarily. He’s polite and consistent and respectful. Perfectly acceptable. Like vanilla ice cream or sensible shoes. I force more warmth to my smile and my voice. “How are you doing?”

  He tucks his hands into the pockets of his pressed slacks and nods his head. “You know I’m doing all right.” He rocks onto the balls of his leather loafer wearing feet. “I’ve been doing a lot of soul searching with Dr. Gordon and I think I know what you needed from me that I didn’t give you.”

  I lift a brow. “You do?”

  I’m pretty sure Dr. Gordon has no clue what I need from a man. Some days I have a hard time admitting what I need from a man. Mostly because what I need and what I know I should want are two drastically different things.

  Nelson pulls one hand free of his pocket and holds it out because talking without using his hands is next to impossible for him. Which is weird since he teaches public speaking classes. “I think you needed me to be stronger.”

  “Huh.” That might have been the understatement of the century. “I would say that is an accurate statement.” One that he’s definitely heard before because it came out of my mouth like a hundred times over the course of our six month relationship. Hopefully he didn’t pay Dr. Gordon too much for that revelation.

  Nelson brightens, showing off his perfectly white, perfectly straight teeth with a wide smile the situation doesn’t warrant. “See? So that’s good right?”

  “I guess so.” I turn back to my desk and start going through the first pile of wayward papers. Monday’s papers. I flip them into the recycling bin one by one as Nelson comes into my office and sits at my desk.

  “Then let’s go out for dinner Friday.” He leans back in the seat, ready to get comfortable in my life. I’ve got news for him. I’m not even comfortable in my life. Not right now. Right now it feels like a wool sweater making me itchy and irritable.

  And he’s the matching scarf wrapped around my neck.

  “I don’t think so.” I finish off Monday’s stack and end up with only one paper for my keep pile. I tell myself I feel a little better already as I slip the single paper into the plastic organizer at the corner of the wide desk.

  Nelson gapes at me, clearly surprised by my refusal. “But I had a breakthrough.” He stands up from my chair and comes around the desk to place his hands on my shoulders. They’re gentle and cool as they rest on the thin silk of my blouse. Nothing like the rough, strong hands I should never have let touch me the way they did Saturday night. Not because I didn’t want Tracker to touch me.

  But because of how much I did. In spite of who he is.

  The clamminess of Nelson’s hands on my shoulders drags me back to the task at hand. His eyes are pleading as they look into mine. “I’ve been trying, Kerr. I swear.”

  How in the hell did I get here? Apparently I was a little too easy when I cut Nelson loose two months ago. I try to be careful with what I say and how I say it which resulted in a break-up conversation that was a whole lot of it’s-not-you-it’s-me.

  But it was all him.

  I take a deep breath and stifle the side of me that wants to tell him the cold hard truth. The same side of me I wish didn’t exist. Maybe if it didn’t I would have found Nelson to be an acceptable companion.

  Ew.

  “I just don’t think we are compatible.” I slide out from under his touch easily and slip my shoes back on my feet. I need to get away from him right now before I say something harsh. We still have to work together and I can’t handle him crying every time we pass in the hall.

  Like he did after the first time we had sex.

  And the second.

  “I think it’s time for you to move on and find someone who will appreciate you the way you deserve to be appreciated.” I’m a little proud of that one. I give myself a mental pat on the back.

  “But I want you.”

  It’s a whine. He’s whining. It makes my nose scrunch up like I smell something sour. This is why we can’t be together. Because I want a man. Someone strong who takes what he wants and that includes me.

  I just have to figure out how to make sure that situation doesn’t bring out the worst in me. The side of me that can be ruthless. Reckless. Wild.

  A little crazy.

  Like it did Saturday.

  I grab my leather work bag and toss it over my shoulder. “I’m sorry Nelson but I just don’t think we want the same things.” I grip the door to my office with one hand. “I have to go. I have someplace I have to be.” I look at him and then at the doorway. He catches the hint and drags his feet across the floor like a pouting child.

  How does he not know how unattractive that is? Maybe I should email Dr. Gordon and give him a list of topics to cover during their time together.

  Nelson fishes his keys from his pocket. “I’ll walk out with you.”

  Great. “Great.” I can’t even make it sound convincing but he doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he doesn’t care. I try to think of something to talk about as we make our way through the halls. I remember Carlos’ visit to my still disorganized office. “The tutor roster needs to be updated for this semester. I had a student ask for one today.”

  We approach the doors that lead to the staff parking lot and Nelson doesn’t make a move to open the door to the vestibule for me. I guess that’s what I get for wearing the pants in every relationship to avoid wearing the back of a man’s hand.

  Like my mother.

  One more reason to forget Saturday night.

  I open the door and Nelson immediately walks through ahead of me.

  “Maybe we can work on it together over lunch tomorrow.” He takes out his phone and pulls up his calendar. “I’ll put you in.”

  I can’t help but laugh because at this point I have to make a conscious effort to think my life is freaking hilarious. Otherwise it’s just sad. “I don’t think that’s a good idea either.”

  He hesitates, waiting for me to open the door that leads to the staff parking lot.

  God he’s a wiener.

  Nelson throws his hands up as he walks through the door I opened for him. Like I’m the man in this scenario.

  Which could be accurate since he’s acting like a vagina.

  “I don’t know what you want from me, Kerri.”

  “I don’t want anything from you, Nelson.” I follow him into the lot and the breeze whips a few strands loose from the tight bun I keep my hair in at work. “I want you to go live your life and be happy.”

  Nelson’s eyes widen almost to the point they’re popping out of their head and he steps back, putting his hands up like he’s expecting me to punch him. “I don’t want any trouble.”

  I snag a bit of my wayward hair that’s caught in my mouth with one finger and squint at him. “What in the hell are you talking about?”

  I’ve been nothing but scarily polite to the guy, even when I wanted to scream at him and tell him to grow a pair and start acting
like he has a dick. Never once did I do it because I can’t let myself be like my father.

  A heavy hand grips my elbow. “I’ve been looking for you.”

  I recognize the deep smooth voice immediately. I hate that it makes my thighs clench together as it drags the memory I’ve been avoiding all week to the forefront of my mind.

  Nelson is still backing up, nearly tripping over his feet as he rushes to put more distance between him and the man holding me like he owns me.

  I glare at my ex as he turns and rushes to his car without so much as a screw you I hope he kills you for dumping me. I take a deep breath before I turn my glare to the man beside me. “How do you know where I work?” I yank at my elbow but he holds fast.

  “I know everything about you.” He steps close to me, using his hold on my arm to keep me in place as his tall, broad body moves in, blocking out everything around us. “Including the face you make when you come, remember?”

  Heat pricks across my skin and I tell myself it’s from anger and not embarrassment. In reality it’s neither of those things that’s making me burn. I stare up at Tracker hoping he can’t see what he does to me. “Then maybe you can do me a favor and tell my father I said fuck off.”

  I know who Tracker is. I knew the minute I saw the tattoo on his neck he was one of my father’s men. I also knew he wasn’t so sure who I was. To be honest I was a little insulted he’d think I was the kind of woman who’d dance on a table for attention.

  Of course I did worse than that as a diversion.

  Yup. A diversion. That’s all it was between us in the bathroom. It had nothing to do with the fact that Tracker kissed me with more passion than Nelson worked up in six whole months. Combined.

  I try again to pull free of his hold on my arm, aggravated with him for being here and myself for letting things go as far as they did at the bar. “Let me go.”

  “Nope. Not again. You and I need to have a talk and I’m not spending the next three days hunting your ass back down.” He starts walking to the parking lot and goes directly to my friend’s car. The one I’m driving instead of my own.

  Because I’m not as stupid as he thought I was.

  Unfortunately he’s not as dumb as I was hoping either.

  Tracker jostles me to a stop beside the passenger side. “Unlock it.”

  I tip my head back and stare him down, letting that difficult side of me creep into my tone. “No.” The faster this man realizes what I am and what I can be, the sooner he will be begging off whatever job my father sent him here to do.

  “Would you like for me to bust the window out then, Princess?” His hazel eyes don’t wander from mine. My heart skips a beat at the heat lingering in their smoky depths. His nostrils flare and he tears his gaze from mine, snapping it to my best friend’s car. “I think Shelly might have a bit of a problem with you bringing her car back with a broken window.”

  I shove my tongue against the roof of my mouth forcing away the urge to gulp. He knows more about my life than I expected. More than he should, which is nothing. Now the heat pumping through my veins is from anger. I lower my voice and narrow my eyes. “Stay away from Shelly.”

  I should never have asked her to help me. I know what my father is capable of and attractive as this man is, he is probably just like King. No matter what, he is part of the world I never wanted to see again. The life I worked like hell to leave behind me. And I thought I had.

  But the man standing here doing his best to intimidate me says different.

  He steps closer. I can smell the spicy cologne I couldn’t forget if I tried. It was pressed into my favorite dress as if it was a part of the fabric and still lingers in my closet at home. Tracker lowers his head and his voice. “Unlock. The. Door.”

  I plant my feet on the asphalt intending to stand my ground.

  He raises his hand. I resist the urge to flinch, expecting the swing to come my way. Then I see the glass breaker in his fist.

  “Stop.” I rush to find Shelly’s keys in my work bag. “Just stop.” I pull out the keys and press the button on the fob.

  His lips barely quirk as he opens the door and motions for me to get inside. “Was that so hard?”

  I slide into the seat giving him the dirtiest look I can muster. He might now about my life. Where I work. Who my friends are. But there is one thing Tracker doesn’t know.

  The kind of woman I am.

  He doesn’t have a clue how hard I can make whatever this is.

  Tracker is going to regret the day he agreed to come find me. I’ll make sure of it.

  3

  I TRY TO calm myself down as I drive to Kerri’s apartment, taking out my anger on the steering wheel, strangling it with both hands. She sits silently in the seat beside me staring daggers into the side of my head. King’s daughter hates my guts right now and I’m fine with that.

  I expected it.

  What I’m not fine with is the way her pussy of a boyfriend looked at me. Like I was a thug. A piece of shit criminal who went around hurting women and killing kittens.

  And he left her with me anyway, running with his tail between his legs. That’s probably the only thing he has between his legs.

  “Who was the,” I choke on the next word because it’s not what that pecker is, “man you were with?”

  I see her fingers tense where they grip the large leather bag sitting on her lap. “A colleague.”

  Not a boyfriend. By the way her shackles went up just now maybe not even a friend. That makes his reaction to a strange man grabbing her in broad daylight a little less deserving of the ass-kicking I should have given him. Was still considering giving him when this was all over. I think back to the way he almost tripped over his own feet getting away, leaving Kerri to fend for herself.

  I am definitely kicking his ass the first opportunity I get. He probably even tells people he’s a man. He’s not. Men don’t run away from a situation like that. They stay and handle shit. Not that Mr. College Degree would have won, but he should have at least tried. “What’s his name?”

  “His name is none of your business.” Her words have bite to them.

  I like it a little more than I should.

  There aren’t too many women who would react the way Kerri is to being essentially kidnapped. But she isn’t like most women. That is very clear.

  I like that a little more than I should, too.

  “I don’t like how he handled what just happened.” Seeing how the man dealt with Kerri being threatened made me even more upset that it took so long to find her. Knowing no one would have tried to stop a man from grabbing her means I’m real lucky I found her before one of The Horsemen’s enforcers did. Kerri isn’t just her own first line of defense. She’s her only line of defense.

  Until now anyway.

  “I don’t like how he handles anything.” Kerri looks past my head for the first time since we got in the car, her eyes narrowing at what she sees outside the window. “Where are you taking me?”

  “Home.” I turn onto the street where she lives in a two-story, dark red brick apartment building.

  Kerri’s shoulders drop and she barely relaxes against her seat, letting out a long breath. She’s relieved. If only a little.

  “Where’d you think we were going?”

  She turns to face the dashboard, staring out the windshield as I turn into the driveway that leads to the parking at the back of her building. “None of your business.”

  I get out of the car and immediately lock the doors with the fob in my hand. I hear the locks click back open. I lock it again. Every time I lock it, she unlocks it. But I’m faster than she is so I manage to keep her safe inside the car until I’m at her door.

  Then the game reverses.

  I should be irritated with her, with the way she’s clearly trying to goad me. I’m not. I’m intrigued.

  “Kerosene Danger Wallace.” I lean down and stare at her through the window, smothering the smile I feel trying to creep onto my lips. “Stop act
ing like a child and unlock this fucking door.”

  Her nostrils flare. If looks could kill I’d have been dead ten minutes ago. I wait, letting her try to stare me down, the defiant tip of her chin making me want to pinch it between my fingers and show her who the boss here really is. Finally the locks click open.

  I smile as I open the door for her. “Thank you, Princess.”

  She catches me in the stomach with a punch. “Don’t fucking call me that.”

  I expect her to run while I catch my breath. The unexpected hit packed a decent amount of heft and I find it oddly satisfying that she can protect herself at least a little. Kerri doesn’t make any move to run. Instead she straightens her spine and narrows her eyes at me. “If I scream my nosy old lady neighbor will call the cops.” Her full lips tug into a snarky smile. “And I know how you boys like the cops.”

  I close the car door, recovered from the sucker punch I probably deserved. I’m sure she’ll want to give me plenty more before this is all over. “Feel free.” I start walking toward her apartment. “But if I leave your daddy will be the next one to show up on your doorstep.”

  It’s a calculated risk. One I was hoping to save for later but this woman is everything her daddy promised.

  And a good bit more.

  And I while I’m not positive I understand all of what’s going on right now I am one-hundred percent certain Kerri does not want King in her life. She seems willing to do anything to keep that from happening, including moving away, changing her name, using a P.O. Box to keep her address as hidden as it can be...

  And attacking strange men in bathrooms.

  I’m not expecting her to like me, I’m hoping to simply be the lesser of two evils.

  At least for now.

  I hear a loud huff followed by the click of her heels over the asphalt behind me. I reach her apartment door for the second time today and unlock it with one of the two keys I had made this afternoon. It swings open and I stand to one side, letting her pass by me into the two bedroom unit I’ve already seen every inch of.