by Sandra Owens
As much as she missed Madison’s company in the evenings, she was glad her friend had moved out. Madison was safer not being around at night. Lauren didn’t worry about Stephan showing up during the hours they were open. There were too many customers in and out. He preferred sneak attacks, enjoyed being a night monster.
“Tell them, Lauren, or I will,” Madison said. “They can help you.”
She opened her mouth to remind Madison of her promise not to tell a soul, but spotted the bandage on Court’s face. That she hadn’t noticed it before proved how off balance Peter had made her.
“What happened to your face?”
“What do you care, G.G.?”
Gorgeous Girl. His pet name for her during a week when she’d believed in fairy tale endings. He’d used it on purpose, a reminder of what she’d done to him.
“Who’s G.G.?” Alex asked. “I don’t have a clue what’s going on here.” He raised a brow at Madison. “I gather you do?”
Lauren couldn’t deal with this. Not tonight. She grabbed Madison’s hand, pulling her into her bedroom. “You can’t tell anyone. You promised,” she said after closing the door.
“They can help. I swear it.”
The tears she’d been holding back rolled down her cheeks. “You know why I won’t. Oh, God, he’s getting out, Maddie.” She sucked in a breath. “I thought by now he’d have forgotten about me.” Stupid, stupid her, so naïve. “He’ll hurt anyone who gets in his way, maybe even kill them. I’d die if something happened to any of you because of me.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Madison hugged her. “You’re not alone. Why can’t you get that through your head?”
Lauren rested her chin on her friend’s shoulder. “Because in this, I have to be.”
“No, Lauren, you don’t. I’ll give you until tomorrow night. Either you tell them about Stephan or I will. And get that angry look off your face. I’m doing this for your own good.”
“Okay.” It wasn’t okay, but there would be no reasoning with Madison. Lauren stepped back. To keep everyone safe, she needed to leave. If Madison’s deadline was tomorrow night, she’d have to figure something out fast.
“I’m going to stay here tonight,” Madison said. “Give me a minute to go send the guys home, and then we’ll eat our weight in ice cream and drink wine while you tell me how you know Court and why he called you G.G.”
“No. Go home with your husband. Between both your jobs, you guys get so little time together.” The plan taking seed in her mind required everyone to be gone. “I mean it, Madison. I’m going straight to bed.” She pulled the cover down to prove her words.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m sure. We’ll talk about everything in the morning. I’ll tell you all about me and Court.”
Her friend gave her a hard hug. “I’ll keep my phone nearby if you change your mind.”
She wouldn’t. By the time Madison arrived in the morning, she planned to be long gone. Lauren walked to the window, staring unseeingly at the traffic going by on Collins Avenue. While she waited to hear silence, letting her know they’d left, she allowed herself to remember meeting Stephan.
She’d met him the day her mother died, when she had been vulnerable to his charms. False charms, she amended. She’d stood next to her mother’s hospital bed with her father and little sister, all of them crying.
There had been so much grief in that room that she’d had to get away for a few minutes. Without a destination in mind, she wandered through the hospital, ending up in a waiting room. If there were one thing in her life she could undo, it would be taking that walk.
Stephan had been there, waiting to get an X-ray taken of his ankle. He’d asked why she was crying, so she’d told him. Then he had taken her hand, holding it between his big, strong ones.
In that moment, she’d believed he could heal all her hurts. When he’d asked her to tell him the best story she had about her mother, she’d fallen a little in love with him. And his accent—Russian he’d told her—was charming.
By the time the technician had come to take him to get his X-ray, they’d both been laughing over what a horrible cook her mother had been. It was a family joke that her mother shouldn’t be allowed in the kitchen and wasn’t embarrassed to admit it.
When he’d shyly told her he was a star hockey player for the Florida Thunder, and then asked for her phone number, she’d wondered why such a good-looking celebrity would be interested in her. She’d been powerless to resist him, and even though she gave him her number, she hadn’t expected to hear from him. But she had. Unfortunately.
The Stephan who’d romanced her had been everything a young girl could dream of. Because of a hairline fracture in his ankle, he’d been put on injured reserve for a few weeks with plenty of time on his hands. He’d spent those with her, even going to her mother’s funeral. He’d not only made her fall in love with him, but her dad and sister, too.
Stephan had been there for her family during the worst days of their lives, doing everything in his power to make things easier for them. He’d claimed to understand her grief because he’d lost his mother several years earlier. She’d been so stupid to fall for his act, something she’d learned the minute he put a wedding ring on her finger. Young and naïve, she’d been no match for her new husband.
The first time he’d hit her was on their wedding night, the second time when she’d refused to quit college. By the time she’d found the courage to leave him, she’d lost count of the reasons why she deserved to be hit. She leaned her forehead against the glass pane, wondering what her life would be like now if Stephan hadn’t been waiting for her when she’d returned from spring break. Would she and Court still be together? Deep in her heart, she believed they would—the magic between them had been that amazing.
At hearing a scratch at the door, she pushed away her memories. “Everyone gone?” she asked Hemingway, after letting him into her bedroom. He gave her a pitiful meow. She picked him up, put him on the bed, and scratched his chin and ears, getting deep, rumbling purrs of pleasure. Right now, she’d like to be a spoiled cat, without a worry in the world.
“I have things to do, Hemingway, my man. I can’t be pampering you tonight.” She was going to miss him.
Court assumed Lauren was talking to the cat, but he couldn’t make out the words. After the scene he’d witnessed earlier between her and the Russian, he hadn’t felt comfortable leaving her alone. Alex and Madison had offered to stay, not wanting to leave her alone either, but he’d sent them home. They were newlyweds and surely had better things to do, whereas he had absolutely nothing better to do, aside from a mountain of paperwork. Guarding a woman he’d never expected to see again was as good an excuse as any to put off that chore.
Madison had given him the pillow from her old bed, and he removed his shirt and shoes. He wished he had his computer. A little research on Lauren’s life would be helpful since she was refusing to talk about her husband . . . ex-husband, he corrected. That was if he took her at her word that the dude really was an ex.
She probably wouldn’t appreciate an invasion of her privacy, but his law enforcement instincts were screaming that she was in trouble. No matter she’d once crushed his heart so badly it would never be the same. She was a close friend of Madison’s and his brother loved Madison—for that reason alone, Court would get involved.
Besides, he was going to have to lie low for a while, so this would give him something to do. He’d wanted to let her know he was here, but Madison said if he did, Lauren would just kick him out. According to Madison, Lauren intended to go straight to bed. He tilted his head, listening to the sounds coming from her bedroom. She was moving around, opening and closing drawers. She definitely hadn’t gone straight to bed. What was she up to?
Suspicious, he waited. An hour later, the floorboards in the hallway creaked. A dark-clothed person walked into the kitchen, opened the refrigerator, took out two bottles of water, and stuffed them into the backpack she carried, and then h
eaded for the door.
Lauren. Lauren. Lauren. “Going somewhere, my little midnight ghost?”
She yelped, the backpack falling to the floor with a heavy thud.
“Easy, G.G.” He pushed off the sofa.
“Court?” She pressed her forehead against the door. “Why are you here?”
“Guarding you. Going to be kind of hard to do if you’re not here, don’t you think?” He picked up the backpack. “Where you headed?”
“None of your business.” She slipped around him, backed up to the kitchen light switch, and turned it on. “You can leave now.”
“Don’t think so.” He frowned at the sight of a gun barrel in the partially unzipped bag. He pulled it out and held up the Glock 26, also known as a Baby Glock, preferred by women because of its smaller size. “You planning on shooting someone?”
“Again, none of your business.”
He shouldn’t like that fire in those golden-brown eyes so much. “I’m making it my business. Do you even know how to shoot this?” When her gaze shifted away, he had his answer. Christ, she was clueless. About everything. How to use the weapon she’d been careless enough to let him find, how to disappear, and she probably didn’t know how to fight off an attack.
What to do about that? As he saw it, he had two choices. Either let her go and hope she somehow managed to safely disappear or make her his project. He wasn’t stupid enough to tell her that last part since he doubted there was a woman in the world who’d appreciate being any man’s project.
“Are you that afraid of him?” he asked even though he was sure of the answer.
“Feeling like a broken record here because again, none of your business. I’d like you to leave now.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, probably to show him she meant business. It wasn’t working since she’d managed to push up her breasts so that the material of her T-shirt stretched against them, leaving her nipples outlined.
He’d had those beautiful breasts in his mouth, had explored every inch of her body, had known all her sighs of pleasure. He’d once thought she loved him. Until she’d told him in a phone call it was over, not even having the courtesy to tell him to his face.
Nor had she given him a reason. Just, “Don’t call me again or try to see me.” That had happened only days after she’d told him she loved him. He’d learned the hard way that women couldn’t be trusted, the first lesson from his mother. The one time he’d forgotten that lesson had been with Lauren. But never again.
“What are you looking at?” She lifted one arm, snapping her fingers. “My eyes are up here.”
Irritated with himself and her, he kept his gaze on her breasts to prove . . . What? That he was an ass? “So they are,” he said, lifting his eyes to hers. “Here’s the deal.”
“There is no deal, Court. You have no say over my life. I’ll ask you one more time to leave.”
“Or you’ll what? Call the cops?”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”
He chuckled, amused that she had no clue she was threatening to call the police on an FBI agent. “Let’s sit, and I’ll tell you the deal.” Ignoring the little growl deep in her throat, he settled on the sofa. “Come on, G.G. Just hear me out.”
“Stop calling me that.”
“Why? You used to like it.” She’d been his Gorgeous Girl for six days. It must have been the sun and beer and salty air that had tricked him into mistaking lust for love. He had to admit the woman had a lot to do with that, too. All six years had done to her was turn her from a cute college girl with a love of life into a beautiful woman afraid of her own shadow. He could appreciate the physical change in her, but he didn’t like the fear her ex-husband had put in her eyes.
And when did she have that husband? Before he met her or after? Or even during? No, he couldn’t believe that she would have given herself to him so freely, showing no sign of guilt during their time together, if she’d had a husband waiting in the wings. He wanted answers, and he planned to get them.
“Lauren, please. Sit and hear me out.” Her cat jumped onto the sofa, climbed onto his lap, and peered up at him with curious blue eyes. “See, even . . . Hemingway, is it?” At her nod, he said, “Even Hemingway wants to hear what I have to say.”
Like a wary crab, she inched sideways to the nearest chair. “You have five minutes.”
Little did she know, he had as long as he wanted because she wasn’t going anywhere. She might not like it, but it was for her own good. From all the signs she’d unknowingly given him, she fully expected bad trouble was headed her way.
“I have an offer for you.” He absently stroked the cat’s back, earning a loud purr. “I’ll teach you how to shoot that gun, how to fight back, and if it becomes necessary, how to disappear without a trace. Right now, you don’t know how to do any of those things, which, if your ex—What’s his name again?”
“Stephan.” She slapped her hand over her mouth.
Yeah, he’d tricked her into giving him the information, but he would’ve found out one way or another. She had no clue of the resources he had at his fingertips. “If Stephan comes after you right now, which you think he’ll do, especially since his brother told you he would, you don’t have the know-how to protect yourself.”
“That’s why I won’t be here.”
“Again, you don’t know how to disappear without leaving a trail. He wants you bad enough, he’ll find you. Does he want you that badly?”
She shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Where is he right now, Lauren?” He sighed when she didn’t answer. “Trust me, I can find out. You might as well make it easy on both of us.”
He knew the second he lost her. Something he’d said triggered a reaction and not a good one. Her eyes glazed over, and she folded into herself, which he recognized as a typical response from a battered woman. When she walked away without a word, returning to her bedroom, he let her go. At her departure, the cat took off, following her.
After replaying their conversation, he came to the conclusion her trigger had been one or both of his last two sentences. What had the bastard done to her? He turned off the kitchen light, leaving the dim one under the microwave on.
He wasn’t at all surprised when, a few hours later, she tiptoed to the coffee table where he’d dropped her backpack, picked it up, and then headed for the door. He rolled his eyes and sighed since neither gesture alone was enough to express his current exasperation. The damn woman was determined to drive him crazy.
As he saw it, he had two options. Scare the hell out of her again or prove that she didn’t know how to disappear. He chose option two. She needed to learn a hard lesson, one that just might keep her alive if her ex was as dangerous as she seemed to think.
As soon as the door closed behind her, he put on his shoes and tugged on his shirt. At the bottom of the stairs, he cracked the door. She stood on the edge of the sidewalk, darting glances all around. At least she was trying to be aware of her surroundings, even if she was entirely too obvious about it. Another thing he needed to teach her.
A taxi pulled up, and as soon as it stopped, she jumped in. He made a mental note to explain to her how easy it was to bribe a cabbie to learn where she’d been dropped off. As the cab pulled away, he jogged across the street to his car. He made a bet with himself that he’d follow the taxi straight to the bus station.
CHAPTER FOUR
Lauren paid the driver, and after a quick look around, she hurried into the bus station. She’d forced herself to wait until she was sure Court was asleep before finally sneaking out. He wasn’t going to be happy to find her gone, but she refused to put him, along with his brothers and Madison, in danger.
Everyone was safer if she disappeared, including herself. As long as Stephan couldn’t find her, he couldn’t hurt her. She bought a ticket for the first bus leaving, which was only going as far as Fort Lauderdale, unfortunately. At least, she’d be out of Miami where Court and Peter would be looking for her.
Her final destination was New Orleans, the city she’d settled on while waiting for Court to fall asleep. It was a place she could easily get lost in, and it should be simple enough to get a job as a waitress. If she got really lucky, the owner would agree to pay her under the table. That would probably mean working in a dive, but until she could figure out how to get a false ID, she wouldn’t have much choice.
The one thing she regretted the most was not saying good-bye to her father and sister, but that was one of the first places Stephan would look for her. Their confusion as to her whereabouts would be obvious, so he would leave them alone. She had to believe that. When she thought it was safe enough, she’d call and reassure them she was okay.
As the bus headed north, she stared out the window even though it was too dark to see anything. All she saw was her reflection. The pink tips on her hair would have to go. Maybe she’d dye it red. She’d always liked dark auburn. The best color might be a mousy brown, though, something people wouldn’t remember.
Court was wrong. She knew how to disappear, and when he woke up and she was nowhere to be found, he’d learn that. She’d almost told him everything, but then he’d said those words—so similar to Stephan’s—that had unmercifully slung her back to that day she’d found Stephan in her home, waiting for her.
From her hospital room, she’d called Court and ended it between them to protect him. Now he was doing his best to negate everything she’d done for him, making himself a target for a vindictive and vicious man. Well, she wasn’t having it.
The bus pulled into the Fort Lauderdale station, and she hoisted her backpack. As she waited to get off, she looked out the window, scanning the faces of the people milling around, relieved not to recognize anyone. She’d done it, gotten away without anyone the wiser.
After a quick stop in the restroom, she went to the ATM and withdrew as much cash as it would allow. That still left a few thousand dollars in her account as a cushion until she could find a job. When she got to New Orleans, she would write to Madison, giving her friend her share of the bookstore. If and when she could ever return to Miami, she trusted Madison to welcome her back as a partner.
