“I know. Not so hungry anymore. Come by the house later if you want to bandage me up.” He bent down and kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry about me. I feel great.”
“Famous last words,” Jack said, softly slapping Slade’s shoulder.
“I’ll be there as soon as we finish breakfast,” Chrissy said.
“Yes, Doc,” Slade said to his sister before walking out of the diner.
Jack was surprised Chrissy hadn’t flipped the fuck out on him yet. But approximately 2.3 seconds after Slade left, Jack saw the lightbulb over her head go on, and she whipped around to look at Jack. Shit! It’s about to get real bad!
“Did you know?” Chrissy hissed.
“I … um …”
“Did. You. Know?” she asked again slowly.
“Did I know what?”
“Don’t play stupid, Jack.”
“I didn’t know Jessica wouldn’t help.”
Jack rubbed his head with his hand, something he did when he was worried.
“Jack!”
“Don’t be mad, Chris.”
“Tell me!”
He took a deep breath and braced himself. “He won. He’s safe. Isn’t that great?” Maybe if he turned it into something positive she wouldn’t be pissed, he thought briefly, before realizing, No point kidding yourself. No matter what, she’s going to be furious! “He’s a hundred grand richer. Never has to fight again. Isn’t that great?” he repeated, not even convincing himself.
She didn’t speak for a few moments. Her nostrils flared. Her cheeks were flushed, and the red was working its way up her face to her ears. Not good. Not good at all.
She shoved him. “Let me out!”
“What?”
“Move, Daniels! Let me out of this fucking booth.”
Jack slid out, and Chrissy followed. They hadn’t even finished eating. Chrissy began walking out of the diner but was stopped by Travis. Jack threw some money on the table and made his way toward them.
“So, baby, how ’bout that date?” Travis said.
“Fuck off, Trav! She’s mine!” Jack hissed.
Chrissy took a step toward Jack. Blind fury filled her eyes. Never had he seen her so angry. She reached back and slapped him across the face, hard. He knew he deserved it.
“Uh … dude? I think not,” Travis said. Jack was too stunned to reply.
“So, is that a yes, baby?”
“No!” both Chrissy and Jack replied.
“And never call her ‘baby’ again, jerk-off.” Jack followed a raging Chrissy out the door.
Once they were outside the diner, she turned back to face him so abruptly that he almost crashed into her. “You lied to me!” Her chin quivered, and a grave look gripped her soft features. “I confided in you. I let my guard down, and you lied to me and deceived me. You slept with me just to distract me so I wouldn’t go to the fight.”
“No, baby. I—”
“Shut up!” she yelled. “Do not ‘baby’ me!” Her fists clung to her sides. “If something had happened to Slade and I wasn’t there because of you, it would have killed me.” She stood on her tiptoes, her face inches from his. “You both knew I wanted to go. I expected nonsense like this from him, but after the last few days, I thought I meant something to you. I thought … You know what? It doesn’t matter. You knew how worried I was. Both of you lied to me so I wouldn’t go. But you slept with me to distract me!” she repeated. This time tears formed in the corner of her eyes. “He hadn’t even recovered from the last fight.”
“He promised me he was ready to fight. I thought it was for the best you weren’t there. For you and for him. It’s not a place you should go, and if you’d been there, he’d have been distracted. It could have been so much worse. These fight-to-the-finish fights can be brutal. He—”
“Fight to what?” Chrissy demanded.
Shit. Didn’t Slade mention that to her before? Keep your stupid trap shut, moron! You’re making it worse!
“Um … fight-to-the-finish? It means that there are no time restraints or referees. They basically fight until—”
“Oh my God! Until someone dies!” Chrissy yelped.
“No! Not dies. Well, not on purpose. Wait, this is coming out all wrong. Someone always gets tapped out, knocked out, or choked out.”
“Oh, geez. Thanks. That makes it all better!” She looked ready to knock him out.
“What I’m trying to say is that I heard from some of the guys that were there, and it didn’t end as badly as it could have. They even said that the crowd wasn’t happy because they paid for action but got none.”
He was trying to placate her by explaining that Slade was perfectly fine, but she wasn’t budging. Her anger and hurt were palpable. He wanted to reach out and touch her, comfort her, wipe away the lone tear that was making its way down her cheek, but he thought it was better that he keep his distance at the moment. She was too upset. “Chrissy, it was too dangerous a place for you. I wasn’t just mad at Slade for fighting, I was mad at him for fighting in that particular underground ring of fights. Why do you think they make so much money? This is mob-type stuff, Chrissy. The fight was in a very bad part of town in an abandoned warehouse.” He wanted to explain that there were heavy bettors in the crowd, not to mention the potential for prostitution and drugs—all things she didn’t need to see. Not only didn’t he want her there, but as law enforcement, he couldn’t be caught in a place like that. The last time she’d gone, she’d wound up hurt and accosted by two assholes, and he wouldn’t have allowed her to get hurt again.
Chrissy stormed away from him before he was able to finish his explanation. Jack pushed off the car he had been leaning against. “Chrissy, please don’t do this.” Seeing her hurt and angry made his stomach flip and his heart ache in a way he’d never experienced before. “I want to apologize, bu—”
“Don’t bother. I know I was just a quick fuck to you, and now we can both move on,” she interrupted.
“Can you just be quiet for a second?” He tried to rein in his mounting anger. “You couldn’t possibly be more wrong about the way I feel about you. It wasn’t just sex, and please don’t call it a fuck ever again. Don’t cheapen what we did, what we have. I will always, always”—his voice became louder—“protect you from harm. Do you understand?” He took a step closer, his features hardening. “I don’t need your fucking permission to protect you. I didn’t need it for fifteen years and I sure as hell don’t need it now. Making sure you are safe is my goddamn job. And that is something I will not apologize for.”
She whipped around and poked his chest. “You’re a manipulative Neanderthal. I’m not the same little girl that you had this misplaced obligation to protect. I’m a grown-ass woman, and I decide if something is too dangerous for me to handle, not you. If we were together, is this how it would be? You lying and deciding what’s safe and what’s not? Like I’m an infant? Like you used to treat me all those years ago? Stifle me? Whatever this was between us is over.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Look, Jack. All this”—she waved her finger between them—“it’s been great. Really great. Best fuck ever, actually. You don’t have to worry. I never had any romantic notions that this would be more than what it was. I’m a big girl. I wanted it as much as you did. We’d never work out, anyway.” It was as if she was trying to convince herself. “In fact, I don’t even know what this is. I’m a doctor. I heal people for a living. And you fuck people up for a living. I’ve been fucked up before, and I can’t live in fear. You’re the definition of not right for me. I saw your face as you were beating the crap out of that guy on Thursday. I heard you talking to Cain that day when Slade was getting out on bail. You were proud—ecstatic, actually—that the guy you beat up might be seriously hurt. That scares me so much. One minute you’re this sweet, protective cop who has me so completely smitten that I forget all logic and reason, and the next you’re violent and savage and happy about it. Guess who that reminds me of? I hate to even say it out loud because I
promised myself never to be afraid of a man again, but you scare me, Jack.”
“Chris, you know I’d never hurt you.”
“No, Jack, I don’t know that. I’ve been down this road already. I never should’ve gone with you to your fight. It made me see you in a different light. Actually, I shouldn’t have slept with you. You scare me,” she repeated. “I tried to push that feeling aside because all the sexiness that is you made my head all fuzzy. I’m sorry, Jack, I gotta go,” she said, holding back tears and climbing into her car.
“Chrissy, please,” he whispered through clenched teeth, but she was already driving away. Shit. I don’t think I handled that well. She was right, though. She did deserve to be able to make her own choices. Why was it that every time he was around her he felt this overwhelming need to protect her? He had a constant urge to sling her over his shoulder and drag her back to his cave and keep her safe. Apparently she didn’t like it all that much.
And she’d called it a fuck. Jack couldn’t help but flinch at that word. Even if it had been fast and rough, it wasn’t just a fuck. It was more than that. A lot more than that. What the more was, he wasn’t quite sure. There were feelings there that he’d never had with any other woman. His hand involuntarily went to his chest to rub the tightening he felt there. It was an unfamiliar feeling. He found himself thinking about her: the moment their eyes had locked for the first time after eleven years when he stopped her for speeding … her unabashed giggles … the way her glasses constantly fell down her nose … the way she let him take charge, touch her, hold her, even when she was uncertain … the way she sometimes looked scared but straightened her spine and made sure the world never saw her waver … the way her body fit so perfectly against his. But most of all, his mind wandered to the way she looked at him with those piercing blue eyes. How she called him “sweetheart.” How easily she had given herself fully to him in bed. The way she made him feel.
He continued to rub his chest, then suddenly stopped when it hit him like a two-by-four. “Son of a bitch!” he whispered to himself.
He was in love with Christine Martin!
How the hell had he not seen that coming? And even though he had just realized it himself, how the hell could she think it was anything less than love? Suddenly the tightening in his chest changed to a hollowness, because these newly discovered feelings made him nervous.
If there was one day Jack was happy he had a twelve-hour shift ahead of him, today was that day. At least it would give Chrissy time to calm down.
Chapter 11
Chrissy walked into her old house. She needed to calm down. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so upset. A swim could help take her mind off things, or at least help cool her down, because right now she was seeing red. She ran upstairs to change into her bathing suit but realized with dismay that all of her stuff was at Jack’s house and she had left the key he’d given her on his kitchen table. She remembered Jack mentioning that Slade had a key to his house, but who the hell knew where Slade kept it.
Chrissy rummaged through some of the drawers in the kitchen and was surprised to find that Slade was remarkably organized. Suddenly she had the idea to check where her father had kept all the spare keys. Even though it was a long shot, she looked on the top shelf of the pantry, in the exact same place her father had stored them. There she found a clear plastic box full of keys, each labeled with a little plastic tag. Chrissy saw one labeled “JD,” and she fist-pumped in the air.
With the spare key in hand, Chrissy made her way next door, where she was greeted by a cheerful Drogo. She took a minute to pet him and feed him some slices of cheese before she changed into her bathing suit. Once dressed, she locked the front door and exited through the back door to the beach.
Chrissy was so inside her own head, she dove straight into the ocean without much thought. The refreshing salt water against the extreme Florida heat was a good, albeit temporary, escape from the thoughts that were invading her head: Jack, Slade, Jessica, Tarpon Springs, the job that waited for her in Miami …
When she was completely exhausted from the argument, the swimming, and the heat, she threw herself down on the sand. She needed to think. She had definite feelings for Jack, but she knew deep down that the sex and the hot-macho-man demeanor were keeping her from thinking clearly. She had avoided men like Jack for a decade. He’d never given her any inkling that he’d hurt her, but neither had Brian. No, her judgment was definitely off, and seeing Jack so violent when he fought, combined with his near giddiness about having beaten his opponent to a bloody pulp, made her nervous. Very nervous.
After about twenty restless minutes, she walked along the beach back to Slade’s house and went inside for a shower. When she was done with that and her anger had still not subsided, she decided to lie down in her old bedroom with the intention of going to sleep early, but she was too wound up. She heard Slade come in at some point, so she stomped downstairs to check on him. She needed to make sure that he didn’t have any serious injuries after his fight.
“Let me see you,” Chrissy said, not bothering with much of a bedside manner.
“I’m fine, Chrissy. Really, I am.”
“Just sit, Slade.” He obliged, and she checked him as thoroughly as she could with her limited medical kit. Too bad she didn’t have a CAT scanner that fit in her backpack. A half hour later she was done, and Slade excused himself, saying he was exhausted and needed sleep. She was still too angry to talk, so she just nodded.
Back in her room, Chrissy couldn’t help but think about Jessica. If that asshole Dennis had tried to attack her in a parking lot, how many times had he attacked her in private?
There was so much turmoil going on in Chrissy’s head, between her brother’s problems and Jack’s lie, she couldn’t possibly sleep. She had thought that Jack had wanted some sort of relationship with her, and even though she hadn’t been sure whether she wanted a relationship with him, now she just felt hurt and confused. She couldn’t trust him, and coupled with his tendencies toward violence, there was just no way she could ever be with him. She should have stuck to the plan and gone back to Miami. If she had, she would have avoided all of this drama.
Chrissy thought back on how her life had been eleven years ago. If she’d had someone to talk to, maybe her life would’ve been different. She had always had an overwhelming sense of guilt about not having gone to the police when Brian abused her. She’d always wondered if he’d attacked other women since then.
With that thought, she sprang to her feet, checked up on Slade one final time, and drove off to find Jessica.
The Pier was located a few miles away. Chrissy asked the bouncer by the door for Jessica, and he pointed to a tall, lean brunette standing behind the bar serving drinks to a rowdy group of men. She made her way over and took a seat. It was late and the place would be closing soon. She ordered a glass of red wine from the male bartender, and while she sipped her drink, she took inventory of her surroundings. When she’d been there with Jack, she hadn’t really looked at the place well. But now that she was alone, she was able to take stock. It wasn’t a sordid bar. It looked like a local watering hole, and most of the people seemed to know each other.
She glanced over at the group of raucous men in their mid-twenties on the other side of where she sat. She deduced that they had just come from watching a football game and were drunk. A few of the guys hit on Chrissy, and she smiled but declined all their offers for drinks or dancing. Jessica made her way to the side of the bar where Chrissy was sitting and asked her if she wanted a refill, to which Chrissy nodded in acceptance. As Jessica was pouring the glass of wine, one of the young guys, the most obnoxious of the bunch, came up behind Chrissy, leaned toward her, and whispered something incoherent into her ear, startling her. He was way too close for comfort, so she shoved him away. “Back off!”
Jessica, who was on the other side of the bar, saw the altercation. “Hey, man! I already told you to leave me and my customers alone.”
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br /> “Don’t be a bitch. Just ’cause you won’t give it up doesn’t mean this pretty little lady won’t,” the obnoxious guy yelled at Jessica.
“Hey!” Chrissy stood up and turned around, her back to the bar.
“Don’t be a prick, asshole,” Jessica snapped at the guy from behind Chrissy. That surprised Chrissy—she hadn’t expected a tenacious woman. She had thought she’d find a frail or helpless victim. But why? Why would she have thought Jessica to be anything but strong? Chrissy wasn’t frail or helpless, and yet she had been a victim.
After a lot of mostly slurred and incoherent remarks from the obnoxious guy, the bouncer finally came and escorted him out, earning a round of cheers and applause from nearby patrons. Chrissy sat back down and faced the other woman.
“Sorry ’bout that. Sometimes we get belligerent frat boys who don’t know when to put a cork in it,” said Jessica.
“It’s fine. No worries. Thanks for the help, though.”
“No problem. Here.” Jessica poured her another glass of wine. “Have a drink on the house.”
“Thanks.” Chrissy sat at the bar for another hour or so and noticed how well put together Jessica was, how confident and beautiful. She could see why Slade liked her.
When the crowd had thinned out and Jessica was wiping down the bar area in preparation for closing, Chrissy called her over.
“Another drink, honey?” Jessica asked.
“No. Actually, do you have a minute to talk? In private?”
“Excuse me?” Jessica looked confused.
“My name’s Chrissy. I’m—”
Jessica snapped her fingers and pointed, as if she recognized something. “Slade’s sister. I kept thinking you looked familiar, but I didn’t realize the resemblance until just now. You both have the same eyes.” She smiled at Chrissy, which gave Chrissy a jolt of relief. She had thought that Jessica might refuse to speak with her. “Meet you outside in ten minutes?”
Chrissy nodded. She finished her drink, paid her tab, and waited outside by the bouncer. A few minutes later Jessica walked out. “Come on, honey. My car’s right by the bench. We can talk there and still be close enough to Luis, just in case.” She winked at the bouncer. It was a typical Florida evening, hot and humid. The sky was clear and a full moon decorated the sky beautifully. The two women sat down on the bench, both with a small sheen on their brow from the heat.
Against the Cage (Worth the Fight #1) Page 17
