by Malone, M.
Lattimer finally gets up, brushing away the offer of help from his other bodyguard. The guy holds his throat while glaring at me. He looks between the three of us and then sneers.
“All of you need to get the hell out of my club.”
“What? Paul, that is not fair. Emma has nothing to do with this. And a bunch of drunks fighting is not my fault.” Sasha glares at him.
“I don’t care. I don’t need this shit. Both of you get out and don’t bother coming back.”
Sasha points at him. “This is really messed up and you know it. Just wait, karma is a bitch with a really long memory. And she has your address now.”
Sasha holds out a hand to Emma. “We’re going to get our stuff from the back.”
I follow them, standing guard at the entrance to the dressing room and keeping an eye on Lattimer and his goons. They watch us but don’t attempt to come closer or prevent the girls from getting their stuff.
Sasha emerges wearing black leggings and an oversized red sweater. Emma has changed into a plain white blouse with ruffles on the front and hip hugging jeans.
“Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
I follow them out to the parking lot.
Emma stops in the middle of the gravel lot. “Oh no. I forgot I didn’t bring my car today. I need to call my sister for a ride. She wasn’t expecting me to be out this early.”
Sasha holds up her keys. “I can take you.”
“I don’t want you to have to drive out of your way.”
I stop next to my bike, suddenly grateful I brought the extra helmet. “Where do you live? I’ll take you home.”
Emma regards me warily. “In Norfolk. Near the shipyard.”
I wave her over. “That’s not that far from me. We’ll follow Sasha home to make sure she gets there safely. Then I’ll take you home.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
She adjusts the strap on her bag and then takes the helmet I hand her. I adjust the strap for her and then climb on the bike. She eyes it like some strange beast she’s never seen before.
“Climb on. It won’t bite. And neither will I.”
Her eyes narrow but she climbs on the back. She’s holding me gingerly around the waist. I start the engine and she squeals and grabs me tighter.
Now that’s better.
We pull out, following Sasha’s car. I already know her address from when I was on her friend Kaylee’s security detail but it’s been a while since I’ve been there. Plus it’s harder to concentrate on directions when I have Emma snugged against my back, her thighs gripping mine. She catches the rhythm of riding quickly, leaning with me on the turns.
All too soon, we pull up in front of Sasha’s apartment building. Emma climbs off and then removes the helmet. Her cheeks are flushed.
“Your first time?”
She looks startled for a moment then her cheeks go red. “Yeah, I’ve never ridden before.”
“If I could only read minds right now.”
She flushes again and turns to follow Sasha. I know I should stop teasing her but I can’t help it. It’s so easy.
Emma pointedly turns her back to me. “Are you okay, Sasha?”
Sasha shrugs. “I was expecting him to fire me, but I wasn’t trying to get you fired, too. I’m really sorry.”
“I don’t care. I can find another crappy job.”
Sasha turns to me. “Tank, do you mind coming in for a minute. I’m still pretty rattled. I don’t want to be alone just yet.”
“Of course.”
We step inside and Sasha locks the door and slides the chain in place. Then she turns to Emma.
“Em, your mascara is running. Why don’t you use my bathroom? I have makeup remover beneath the counter that you can use.”
As soon as Emma turns the corner out of sight, Sasha grabs my arm and drags me into the kitchen.
“Look we don’t have long so I just needed to warn you. Emma lives with her sister but I think something happened. She’s crashed on my couch a couple of times but I think she’s worried about being here too much. It’s a pride thing. Knowing her she’ll let you drop her off at home and then leave as soon as she thinks you’re gone.”
A door opens in the hallway. Sasha lets go of my arm just as Emma turns the corner into the kitchen.
“Wow, I really did look like a raccoon. Thanks for warning me, Sasha. I would have hated to go home looking like that. I’d never hear the end of it.”
“Why don’t you stay here? You can crash on the couch and then I can drive you to work in the morning.”
Emma smiles tightly. “No, I need to get home. Ivy will worry otherwise.” She glances at me. “Ivy is my older sister.”
“Okay then. I guess you guys should get going.” Sasha gives me a look as soon as Emma turns around.
I nod, so she knows I got the message.
I’m not sure if Emma would try to trick me but if she does, she won’t get far.
Chapter Six
Emma
As soon as Sasha closes the door behind us, I stop walking. Tank stops too and stares at me. I cross my arms and try to drum up some bravado.
“You’re not going to tell Mr. Stevens, are you?”
“What? No, why would I do that?”
Relief sweeps through me. It’s not that I thought he would tell, I just can’t afford to take any chances.
Mr. Stevens is a conservative guy and he’s already gone out on a limb by hiring me in the first place. The last thing I want to do is give him any reason to question that decision.
“I don’t know. I just had to be sure. I need that job. Especially now that I just lost my second income.”
Tank’s face doesn’t change but I sense I’ve offended him with the question.
“I wouldn’t do that, Emma. It’s your secret to keep. Although you haven’t done anything wrong and have nothing to be ashamed of. Now where am I taking you?”
I give him the address and then climb on the back of his motorcycle. He waits for me to adjust the helmet before he pulls out.
He drives carefully, no doubt holding back for my sake. As strange as it seems, I wish he’d go faster. Really let loose. I want to know what it feels like to do something a little crazy.
But true to form, I don’t ask him to. I just squeeze my arms tighter around his middle and lean against his back.
He pulls up outside of the house. My heart sinks at the sight of the blue muscle car sitting next to Ivy’s silver sedan.
Jon is here.
I climb off the bike, awkwardly and hand Tank the helmet. “Thanks for the ride. And for what you did tonight. I know Sasha really appreciates it.”
He flips up the front visor on his helmet. “I wish things had gone differently. My goal was to scare him, not get both of you banned.”
I kick a loose pebble near my foot. I wish I could pretend losing the job didn’t matter. But the loss of that income is even more important now.
Mr. Marshall’s offer looms in my mind. One conversation with Tank and all my troubles could be over.
“I had to deliver a package to your father today.”
His face immediately closes up. “Did you?”
“He’s a nice old man. He always asks me about school and how things are going.”
“Yeah, he’s a model citizen all right. I’ll wait until you get in the house before I take off.”
Something must show on my face because his eyes narrow. I can tell he’s about to say something else so I wave and walk toward the house.
All I have to do is go inside and wait until he leaves. Then I can walk back to the law office. As soon as the front door closes behind me, I hear the sound of the motorcycle as he races off.
After a quick shower, I stuff some fresh clothes in my bag. There’s a soft thud against the wall that separates my room from the hallway. The door to my room is slightly ajar so I tiptoe over and peer through the crack out into the hallway.
Ivy stands in the living room, staring at her phone.
Jon comes up behind her and she suddenly puts it in her pocket. I can’t hear what they’re saying but when Jon grabs her wrist and yanks her toward him roughly, I gasp.
I cover my mouth with my hand but they don’t seem to have heard me anyway. Ivy shoves Jon away and stalks back down the hall. He follows and then I hear her door slam.
After the way Jon behaved this morning and what I just witnessed, this is the last place I want to be. I stand in the doorway, for a moment, listening. They don’t come back so I grab my bag and head out.
It’s exactly twelve minutes later when I lock the front door behind me and skip down the front steps.
I want to weep at the thought of walking a little over a mile at this time of night. But my mind flashes back to this morning and I suddenly would rather be anywhere else. Jon has never been quite that blatant before. It’s usually just the lecherous looks and the comments.
I made the mistake of telling Sasha last week that Jon was hitting on me and wish I hadn’t. She wasn’t exactly subtle with her offer to crash on the couch tonight. But I don’t need charity or to impose on my friends.
Contrary to what she thinks, I’m not all heartbroken and depressed because my sister is being such a bitch to me lately. There was a time when Ivy would have stood up for me. Before our parents died, she would have kicked Jon’s ass if he looked at me sideways.
But she’s different now. I’m different, too. I can hardly fault her for changing when I’m not the same person either.
It’s eerily quiet as I pass the dark houses on my street. There’s no one out this late. I hook the long strap of my messenger bag over my head so it doesn’t get in the way.
No doubt I’ll have blisters by the time I get there but I should be able to curl up on the sofa in the waiting room and catch a few hours of sleep before Mr. Stevens comes in for the day.
It’s embarrassing enough that he suspects I sleep over sometimes but to have him catch me would be even worse.
I turn the corner onto the main road. It borders a wooded area that always gives me the creeps. So when a dark shape moves out of the corner of my eye, I whirl around, fists at the ready.
“Going somewhere?”
Once it registers who it is, I scream in frustration. “Tank! What in the hell are you doing? You almost gave me a heart attack!”
“Where are you going, Emma?”
“None of your business.”
He taps his fingers against the helmet resting on his thigh. “Is there some reason you don’t want to go home?”
He’s going to make me say it out loud.
“Do you just get off on annoying me or what?”
“Something like that.”
It’s the lack of pity in his eyes that tears the words from my mouth. It’s the understanding. Like he’s been in my shoes a time or two and knows how much it sucks.
“My sister’s boyfriend is there and he’s … I just don’t want to be there, okay?”
He nods, a quick perfunctory motion, like he was just waiting for me to finish so we could move on. “Get on.”
“Wait, what? I just told you I’m not going back there.”
He starts the engine and the loud sound startles me in the stark quiet of the night. “I know. You’re coming home with me.”
At any other time I would have a million arguments ready. I’d rail at him for making assumptions or make a what kind of girl do you think I am? joke.
But it’s late. It’s dark. And he represents the only safety I’ve had in a long, long time. So I do something that makes no sense.
I get on the back of his bike and wrap my arms around his waist. “Okay. Let’s go.”
He pulls out and this time he’s not holding back the way he did on the way here. Maybe he can sense the wildness growing inside me, the restless need I have to just feel. Something.
Anything other than helpless.
We arrive at an apartment building about ten minutes away. He takes the helmet from me and stows it on the back of the bike. I follow him into the building and up several flights of stairs. We stop at an apartment on the third floor. He unlocks it and then punches buttons on a keypad next to the door.
As we enter, his eyes are constantly moving, surveying the room and the hallway behind us. I can see why he’s a bodyguard. He’s always on the alert for trouble.
“I like your place.”
He narrows his eyes at me, as if searching to see if the comment is sincere or snarky.
“There’s nothing in here but a couch and a television.”
I shrug. “Yeah, but it’s yours. There’s no one here to take your stuff or kick you out. I like it.”
He sets his helmet on the kitchen counter and then drops down on the couch.
“When you put it that way, I like it too. Do you want something to drink? I’ve got some sodas, fruit juice and I’m sure there’s some bottled water somewhere. Or, are you hungry?”
I hold up a hand before he goes into a detailed account of the type of food he has here. All I really want is to crash but I’m not exactly sure how this is going to work. His couch looks really comfortable but he’s sitting there now and doesn’t look like he’s planning on moving anytime soon.
“Truthfully, I’m exhausted. If I wait any longer, I’ll fall asleep on my feet.”
“Right. Follow me.”
He stands in one fluid movement and grabs my hand. I’m so stunned I don’t even yank it back. His palm engulfs mine and when I look down to where our fingers entwine, the size of his hand makes mine look like a child’s.
“Let me just strip the sheets for you.”
He drops my hand as we enter a bedroom and I rub my palm absently, already missing the contact. Tank doesn’t look like the kind of guy who does housework but he strips the bed of all the linen with the efficiency of someone who’s done it a thousand times in his sleep.
He disappears and I’m left standing next to the bed with nothing to do. Shouldn’t I be helping?
I look at the book on the night table next to the bed. There’s a picture of a soldier on the front. The comforter at my feet is a dark hunter green. The closet is open slightly, revealing several sets of fatigues and black combat boots.
He hasn’t come back yet so I wander over to the dresser and pull open the first drawer. It’s filled with boxer briefs. I slam the drawer shut.
“Find what you were looking for?”
I turn around slowly. “This is your room!”
He laughs softly then bends to spread the clean sheets in his arms over the mattress.
“What gave me away? My superior design skills or was it that warm, cozy feeling from the military fashions on display?”
“I didn’t mean to kick you out of your own bed.”
“Unless you’re willing to share it then I’ll be on the couch.”
“I could take the couch. I’m smaller and I don’t need as much room. That makes way more sense.”
“Yeah, no.”
I want to argue but then he picks up my hand and puts a folded towel and washcloth into my arms. My stomach tightens as our fingers brush. The warmth of his hands linger even after he lets go.
“There’s no way I’m putting you on the couch. I’ve slept worse places, believe me. I’ll be fine. Let me know if you need anything else.”
He backs away slowly, holding my gaze the entire time.
My blood heats at the intense look in his eyes. His shoulders are so broad they take up the entire doorway. All of a sudden, I remember him fighting off those guys. There was no hesitation on his part. He just jumped in and took control of the situation.
No one has ever done anything like that for me before.
Just before he hits the hallway, he says, “I’m glad you’re here, Emma.”
I should be saying that to him. The weirdest thing is, I have the sense that he really is glad I’m here. We don’t know each other that well and probably have nothing in common. He took out both of Paul’s thugs tonight and a bunc
h of those drunk guys, too without breaking a sweat.
I can’t pretend his brutality doesn’t scare me but he took those hits for me.
So in this moment, I’ve never felt safer in my life.
Chapter Seven
Emma
When I wake it’s still dark and my heart picks up rhythm as I take in the unfamiliar environment. Then memory returns and I know where I am.
I’m with Tank.
I never thought I’d be so comfortable in a random guy’s bed. I turn over and collide with a warm, incredibly wide chest.
A naked chest.
“Whoa, it’s all right.” Tank’s deep voice grumbles through the darkness.
I should be pushing him away, climbing out of the bed. Instead I’m shocked into stillness. His hand travels up the bare skin of my arm and stops at the base of my neck. Goosebumps follow the path of his fingers. The man can turn me to mush with just one touch.
“What are you doing in here?” My voice comes out as a high-pitched squeak.
He’s so close I can feel the soft puff of his breath against my hair. Part of me wishes it wasn’t so dark so I could see for myself if he’s just as built as he looks under all that leather.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist. I have shorts on. You were having a nightmare.”
“I was?” I wrap my arms around myself and curl up into a ball.
I haven’t had a nightmare in months. I used to dream of my mother and what she was wearing that day. All dressed up for a night on the town with my dad.
You’d think the fact she was so happy would be a comforting image. Instead, it tormented me she could be so happy and have it all taken away in a matter of moments.
“Yeah. I wasn’t trying anything, I swear. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You seemed to sleep better with me here, so I stayed.”
In my sleep-muddled state, I answer with more candor than I otherwise would have.
“What girl wouldn’t sleep better next to you?”
His chest rumbles beneath my palm. “Miss Shaw, are you flirting with me?”
Before I can think of an answer, there’s a soft snore. He’s asleep again. The soft rumbling sound lulls me to sleep and I don’t wake again until the next morning.
