by Dee J. Adams
Once again his presence loomed behind her. “Maurice fucked up when he wouldn’t help you in the first place,” he said quietly. “Maurice fucked up when he didn’t give Facinetti his money back.” One strong arm came around her waist and pulled her snuggly against him. “You did not fuck up. You saved my life, Jess. I won’t ever forget it and I won’t take it for granted. I owe you in this and I’ll do whatever you want.” His warm palm smoothed down her arm. “But I can’t help you if you’re dead, get it?” He moved his hand over her throat until her head rested against his chest. A totally dominant position. He could snap her neck like a twig and be done with her, Maurice and the whole situation if he wanted. Instead, his lips nuzzled beneath her ear. “Drop the blanket,” he told her.
A zing of sexual electricity sparked in her blood, tore through her veins. Her mind might have decided to avoid sex, but it hadn’t told her body.
His voice stayed calm in her ear. “I didn’t realize the molding was hurting you. You should’ve told me. Let me see the damage I did.”
A flash of dis experience in show businessle behind appointment hit hard. “I’m okay. Just a bruise.” But she felt him tugging at the material.
“Drop it, Jess.” The command was quiet, but steely.
Jess kept the material gathered around her front, but let it fall in the back, exposing the sore spot at the base of her spine.
“Ah, damn,” Tanner muttered. His thumb brushed over the spot and she jerked. Not because it hurt, but because his touch affected her on a molecular level. He drew her back against him, more gently this time. “I’m sorry,” he whispered in her ear. “I didn’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.” He turned her in his arms, cupped her face in his hands. “How about some ice for your back.”
Not the words she expected to hear.
But Tanner had yet to do something she expected. He looked big and mean. Sometimes he even acted mean, but deep down he had a soft side. He’d threatened her, but he’d never followed through. Well, aside from shooting her and choking her, but nothing had been done with malice or premeditation.
“Why are you smiling?” he asked, his lips curving in a rare grin.
“Because, I’m adding this to the list of your transgressions.”
“Transgressions?”
She ticked off the list with her fingers. “Shooting me, choking me and now slamming me into the wainscoting.”
His face darkened and his eyes narrowed. “None of those things happened intentionally.”
“I know. Can you imagine if you meant to hurt to me?” She arched a brow. “I feel sorry for the people you don’t like.” Maurice for instance. Maurice, who was dead in her garage because she’d shot him. Maurice, who was the key to getting her family back safe.
“Hey, don’t,” Tanner scolded, almost as if he knew what she was thinking. His hands moved to her neck, his thumbs under her chin, keeping her head up and her gaze on him.
Jess pulled out of his grip, anger and frustration clawing its way up her chest. “Don’t?” she mocked. “Don’t think about it? Not possible. I killed a man, then I promptly slept with you. I must be nuts? I’ve lost my mind. My whole family is being held hostage and I’m standing here in a blanket because my clothes are on the kitchen floor because I let you take them off me.” She stalked past Tanner, toward the kitchen and the clothes she needed to put back on.
But Tanner was right behind her. “You started the whole thing, Jess, so don’t go blaming me. I told you from the beginning what was going to happen if you pushed me so don’t start—”
“I know!” She turned on him. Made him stop short as he loomed in front of her. “It was my fault. This whole situation is my fault. My dad told me not to work for Maurice and did I listen? No, of course not.” She scooped up her jeans and underwear from the floor. “I had to make my own way. I had to take the first job that came along have the money.” back t him that would get me into films. I had to be on my own, prove I could be independent.” Jess turned so Tanner couldn’t see the emotion on her face. She couldn’t blame him for anything. This whole situation was her fault for working for Maurice in the first place.
“When are you going to get it through your thick head that you didn’t do this?” Tanner asked softly. “When are you going to quit beating yourself up for something Maurice created?”
“When I get my family back.”
Jess dropped the blanket and yanked her underwear on. Her jeans came next, but she flinched when the waistband hit the bruise on her back.
“Dammit, Jess.” Tanner banged around in the freezer and came back with an ice bag. “C’mere.” When she didn’t, he stalked toward her, his face set, his jaw clenched. “Don’t make me put you over my knee,” he said.
She flipped her shirt on and turned to him, furious that he’d even suggest it. “Don’t you dare threaten me.”
“That’s not a threat, baby, that’s a promise. Pull the jeans down.” When she glared at him, he continued, “Not all the way down. Far enough so we can put some ice on you.” He wiped his hand down his face and when he opened his eyes, he looked exhausted. “I don’t want to fight you, Jess. I just want to help.”
That did it. Tears welled up in her eyes. He did want to help. He’d been proving it since the minute he absconded with her at the studio. Tanner tugged her into his arms, held her close. “We’ll figure it out,” he said. “We just have to stay together on this.” His chest radiated heat. “When does this Dave guy get here?”
“He’s a barista and he works the morning shift. He won’t get here for another few hours.”
“So we’ve got time.”
“Time for what?” Jess asked. She couldn’t just fall back into his arms. She had to stay clear, stay focused on what mattered.
Tanner set the ice bag on her back and Jess gasped. “Time for some ice.” When she looked up at him, he gave her a half grin, then slowly leaned down and kissed her. This kiss differed from the others. This one was soft, tender. This one unraveled her senses in a different way. His tongue licked at her lips, enticed her to open for him. Even as the ice cooled her back, his kiss heated her up. His tongue danced with hers, slick and hungry. His big hand stroked through her hair and sent her senses flying. “I want to be insly backed up u
Chapter Fourteen
Terry had a plan but Jay must have misunderstood it.
“What?” he asked. He knew the question made her suggestion sound idiotic, but honestly…that’s what it was.
“I’ll get the guy outside to unlock my cuffs.” Clearly his tone hadn’t fazed her because she launched into the idea again. “I’ll tell him I have cramps and need to use the bathroom. I’ll trip on the way out and fall against him then I’ll pickpocket the key. When he leaves, I’ll get all our cuffs off. Then we’ll lure him back in here and you can smash him over the head with something.” She sounded so hopeful. Looked it too, with her wide blue eyes.
Just because they knew which pocket the key was in didn’t mean she could get it unnoticed. “No, Terry.” Jay said it quietly, but the there was no mistaking the unequivocal order. They were in enough trouble without her doing something so risky.
“It’s worth a try,” she whispered, shooting a glance toward Eric. Neither one of them wanted the boys to know what they were talking about, but Eric was watching, probably trying to lip-read. He’d always had the biggest ears of the all the kids.
Jay struggled to keep his voice down. He had to make her see how crazy this sounded. “You don’t even know how to pick a pocket.”
Terry’s brows lifted, excitement brightened her eyes. “Yes, I do. Remember when I was in that production of Oliver at the community center?”
Was she serious? “A play? You think because you acted in a play that you can do the real thing?” Had she gone off the deep end? Did she really think playing a street urchin pickpocket gave her the ability to do it in real life?
“I got good at it, reme
mber?” she insisted.
He did, but that didn’t make this plan any more enticing. “This isn’t a play, Ter. These guys are big and they have guns. Did you forget what they did to Bren and Danny?” Both boys had a couple of cracked ribs and extra bruises on their faces, not to mention Bren’s lack of an earlobe.
Terry glanced at the boys and anger lit her eyes. “No. I didn’t and I’m not going to sit here like a helpless victim when I can try and do something to get us out of here.” She took a steadying breath. “I can do this, Jay. Remember all that time I spent with the guy Joshua hooked me up with?” Joshua was their neighbor and fellow lawyer. When Terry was preparing for her role in the play, he’d introduced her to a reformed street thug whose specialty was picking pockets. Terry had been a quick study. For weeks, she’d enjoyed swiping keys, watches and wallets from every unsuspecting family member. Her ability had been frighteningly natural. But still, from doing a play eight years ago, to doing the real thing now… That was a stretch for anybody much less someone out of practice.
“I hate it.”
“I don’t love it either, but we’re desperate and it’s worth a shot.”
Jay shook his head. If he wanted to be honest, his wife might be able to pull it off. She was small and constantly underestimated. Very few people understood her strength—of body or mind. They overlooked her as inconsequential. But Jay had learned in high school what kind of woman he’d fallen in love with. She fought for the underdog and stood up for what she believed in and most of all, she protected her family. None of the guards watching now had been at the house when she’d taken out the first guy who’d attacked her. By now they’d heard the story, but since they hadn’t seen her in action, chances were they didn’t understand the scope of her abilities.
He sure as hell never learned how to pick a pocket. His boys didn’t know how. He hated where his mind was going.
“I see it on your face, Jay, have the money.”d l” Terry said, watching him closely. “It’s better than doing nothing. We have to try.” She purposely used we because they were a team. Always had been.
The silence between them stretched for a long time. Terry’s pleading eyes drilled into his. She wouldn’t do it unless they agreed on it. That’s how they based their marriage and this wasn’t any different. “Don’t you dare get caught,” he said. His insides twisted just thinking about it. “If anything happens to you…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence. They were supposed to have sixty, seventy, maybe eighty years together. Losing her didn’t compute.
Her eyes lit up in triumph. “I won’t. I promise. I’ll make you proud.” She didn’t waste any time calling for the guard outside as she doubled over, feigning pain.
The guard barely got the door open before Terry started begging. “Please, please, I need to use the bathroom. My stomach is killing me.” She looked up at the guy…and damn if she didn’t have tears in her eyes. When had she become such a good actress? Hell, her pick-pocketing skills had been tremendously superior to her community theater acting skills. Had she ever played him with tears like this over the years? He’d have to ask her when they got out of here. And they were getting out of here.
“Mom? You okay?” Blake sat up and the other boys piped in as well. It worked that they didn’t know she was faking. They made it all the more real.
The guard unlocked her cuffs, but slipped the key into a different pocket in his cargo vest as he helped her up. Had Terry seen where he’d stashed it? She stayed doubled over and the door closed behind them, leaving Jay to go out of his mind with worry.
“What’s she doing?” Eric asked softly.
His oldest son knew something was up. Jay and Terry both thought of their sons as “the boys,” but that was no longer the case. They were men, and Eric especially had learned his mother’s strengths over the years. Nothing she couldn’t handle. Nothing she was afraid to tackle.
Jay shook his head, unwilling to say anything out loud for fear of jinxing it. “Just cross your fingers,” he told his sons.
Long, long minutes later, the door opened and the guard basically threw Terry across the room before shackling her back to the pipe next to Jay.
“I told you I didn’t do it on purpose,” she said to the man. “I just tripped. I’m only human.”
The thug grunted then stalked out of the room and Jay breathed a sigh of relief that Terry was back in one piece. By virtue of her entrance, she must not have been successful. Why else would the guy have tossed her so roughly if he hadn’t caught her doing something?
“You okay,” he felt compelled to ask. Clearly she was fine. The door snapped shut after the thug.
“Oh, yeah.” She sounded chipper. As if nothing had happened. As if maybe…
Jay slowly looked her way, heard the rattlin frustration eating at him mt him g of her cuffs against the pipe. No way. She couldn’t have…
Her smile bewitched him, just as it had when he was fifteen and dying to get in her pants. When she lifted both hands from behind her back, one holding a small key, and raised her brows innocently, he wanted to shout. To laugh. He wanted to pull her into his arms and never let her go.
“I’ll be damned,” Eric muttered from across the room. “How’d you…?” The answer might have dawned on him because a grin curved his lips, but he never got a chance to verify it.
“I have many talents,” Terry whispered as she quickly released Jay’s wrists. Damn, it felt good to have his arms in front of him. Terry quickly released all the boys, moving efficiently and without a sound.
“Hey, Mom, ever thought of becoming a secret agent for the government?” Blake asked quietly.
“Who says I’m not?” she joked with a wink.
Once she had them all released they gathered in the middle of the room. “I’ll call this guy back,” she said softly. Everybody get in your spots. When he comes to me, one of you needs to bonk him on the head. Hard.”
“I’ll do it,” Blake said. “I’m the farthest in the corner. He won’t see me when he comes in, he’ll be watching you. I just need something to smack him with.”
They all looked around and Jay spotted a rickety old wood chair in the corner. Without much trouble, he loosened one of the legs and snapped it from under the seat. “This ought to do it.” He handed the piece off to Blake. “Let’s just give it a few minutes. He’s not going to let you take another break so soon. He didn’t seem too happy with you when you came back in.”
“He wasn’t.” Her cocky smile spoke volumes. Her confidence attracted him now as much as it had on the first day they’d met.
After so many years together, he read between the lines. “Oh, and why’s that?”
“I had to distract him,” she said, all innocence. “I grabbed his family jewels while I picked his pocket. He was too busy protecting his privates to notice I had my hand in the candy jar.”
“Jeez, Mom,” Blake said, suppressing a grin. “You’re not supposed to cop a feel on a stranger when you’re husband’s in the other room.”
“If copping a feel is going to get us out of here, then I’ll do it with a smile on my face. Now get back to your spots in case someone comes in,” she whispered.
The longest five minutes in the history of mankind passed before Terry let out a yell for help. Jay didn’t want to wait longer than that in case the guy realized he didn’t have the key. The big guy opened the door, his gun in hand. “What now,” he grunted.
“My stomach again,” Terry groaned. “I think you poisoned me with the food this morning.” She doubled over and moaned in agony, making sure to clank the cuffs frustratiim mt him against the pipe behind her. It didn’t seem possible, but Jay fell in love with her even more.
“No one else is complaining,” the guy said, but he moved toward her, taking measured steps as if he hadn’t decided yet if he meant to help her.
“Please, they’re animals. They all have cast iron stomachs.” She bent over again. “Oh, God, please,
I need the bathroom. Please.” She moaned louder as Blake crept up behind him. Three feet, two feet… He readied the chair leg over his shoulder and let loose as the guy reached into his pocket.
Wham! A homerun if Jay had ever seen one. Their newest guard hit the ground hard. One down and who knew how many to go. But this was a start.
Terry grinned at him, then at her son. “I knew all that batting practice would pay off.” She rose to her feet. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
____________
Paul Facinetti checked his watch. Why should he be so antsy when Jess St. John still had three days to come up with his money, or Juneau? But something didn’t feel right and Paul always followed his hunches. They’d gotten him this far. Too bad he’d avoided his hunch about Maurice Juneau. Could’ve saved a lot of time, trouble and a truckload of money.
He picked up the cell phone and called Frank. “What’s going on?”
“With what?” Frank answered in his heavy Bronx accent. They hadn’t lived in New York in twenty years, but Frank hadn’t lost a bit of the flavor.
“With our guests. Who’s watching them?”
“Dennis.”
They’d hired a couple of new guys on this trip, and Terry St. John had taken out one of them with her purse in her kitchen. His man had taken a shot near his temple and had just gotten out of the hospital. He was still seeing double. Dennis was the other newbie. So far he’d been pulling his weight, but Paul reserved his opinion until the job was finished.
“Where’d you find this guy?” Paul asked, looking for Dennis’s resume.
“He’s Buster’s cousin.”
Buster? Who the hell named that guy? “Has he done this kind of work before? He’s someone you trust?” Paul asked.
“You bet. Why not?”
Frank lived in a fantasy world. He had very few of his own problems. He mainly dealt with Paul’s. Because he took orders so flawlessly, he considered himself invincible. He lived a comfortable life, liked his job and his freedom. But things had gone his way for so long that Paul worried about his complacency. The man didn’t want for anything. But he’d expected Frank to snap into the real world at some point. He’d been waiting a long time.
