by J. M. Madden
He avoided her gaze but nodded his head. With a final glance she left the room.
Duncan turned and eased down into the chair, legs stretched out in front of him. His hip was aching like a sonofabitch. “So how much of your trip do you remember?”
Shaking his head, Aiden scrubbed his hands over his face. “Not much. Cold. I remember the cold.”
Duncan snorted. “Well, you were damn near a popsicle when you got out here. You’re lucky the driver found you when he did.”
Aiden cringed. “Am I?”
He didn’t like the tone of the other man’s voice. “Yes, you are,” he told him firmly. “Do you have family or someone I need to contact?”
Blankness settled over Aiden’s features. “Nope.”
Though his gaze was steady, Duncan felt like he was being lied to. “Well, if you think of somebody, let me know and I’ll get a hold of them.”
“I won’t.”
He’d gone blank-face and Duncan had a feeling he wouldn’t be forthcoming with anything else about his family situation.
“Were you coming this direction for a reason?”
Aiden stared at him. “Nope.”
Again, deception. But it wasn’t like he had any hold over him. He could lie all he wanted to. “I’m trying to help you out, Aiden.”
“I’m pretty tired. I’d like to sleep for a while.”
Duncan thought about leaning back in the chair and telling him to go ahead, but he didn’t want things to get antagonistic. Instead, he pushed to his feet, fighting to keep the grimace from his face. “Okay, Aiden, I’ll let you rest. As soon as I get settled into the hotel I’ll call the nurse’s station and leave them my information.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Frowning, he looked at the man on the bed. “I want you to have it.”
“I don’t need it.”
Without saying anything more, Duncan left the room, disappointed at Aiden’s reluctance to accept anything.
Chapter Four
THEY SPENT A quiet day in the house.
Chad paced the living room, restless. It had been quiet outside and inside for too long. Lora had been cleaning the bedroom where she’d been attacked. She’d made several trips with soiled sheets and bags of trash. At one point he’d offered to help. She’d stared at him for several long seconds before shaking her head. “No, thank you.”
The little girl played in her room for a while then wandered into the living room to watch TV. As she clicked through the channels, Chad felt her eyes watching him. He lifted an eyebrow at her in question.
She glanced back at the TV, but her little mouth was working, as if she were trying to keep in the words. “Mommy gets mad sometimes.”
Chad grinned. “Yes, she does, darlin’. But most mamas do sometimes. It didn’t bother me. I’m used to getting yelled at.”
Her pretty green eyes, so like her mother’s, widened. “Why do you get in trouble?”
Sighing, he sat on the couch beside her. “Well, many reasons. I usually try to do good, but sometimes I get in trouble whether I want to or not.”
Nodding, she folded her legs Indian style. “Me too. Sometimes Mommy yells and I don’t know why.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “I think it’s because Derek keeps bugging her.”
Chad nodded. “Probably,” he agreed just as softly. “Maybe sometime soon we can do something about that. Don’t worry about him.”
Her little head dropped down. “He keeps coming after me, but I don’t think he likes me.”
Cringing at the hurt he heard in her voice, Chad reached into his pocket, trying to lighten the mood. Unable to help himself, he pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and handed her the candy. “I’ll let you have this if you don’t tell your momma I spoiled your lunch.”
Her tiny little fingers plucked the Smarties from his hand and curled them away. She looked up at him with a grin, bouncing on the cushion. “I won’t,” she whispered.
Chad left her sneaking little candies and watching cartoons. When he stood up from the couch, movement in his peripheral caught his attention. Lora was trying to fade away down the hallway. He followed after her as she retreated into the bedroom. “Did you hear?”
Her gaze darted from his, but she nodded. “Thank you for trying to ease her mind. I think sometimes I don’t realize how intense I get trying to be everything for her.”
“Well, you’ve done a good job up till now. And this is just a minor setback. We’ll try to get this mess untangled and then we’ll get you back on track.”
She folded her arms across her chest and he noticed she’d taken a shower. Her blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, but she had bangs over her forehead, covering the gash and bandage. What concerned him, though, was her wrist was not bandaged. He noticed the ace wrap on top of her dresser and started to straighten it. “You should wear this. It’ll help your arm heal faster.”
Pink tinged her pale cheeks. “I tried to wrap it but couldn’t get it to stay.”
He tossed the bandage out, letting it untwist. She tensed up but didn’t move away as he stopped in front of her. “Hold your arm out.”
She held it out thumb up, with her other hand cupped beneath it for support. Chad’s jaw clenched when he saw the bruising running up her pale arm. Fingerprints from her husband and from the strain itself. Dragging oxygen into his lungs, he fought for something to say. “Your daughter is a sweetheart.”
Some of the tension eased from her frame. “Yes, she is. She is my reason for life.”
“I can see that. And I think it’s mutual. She worries about you a lot.”
“I know,” she whispered. Her throat sounded tight.
Chad wrapped her arm as carefully as he could, uncomfortable that he was giving her a close-up look at his own damage. Only fair, I guess, considering.
She cleared her throat as he wound the bandage around and around her arm, and he knew what was coming. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “Iraq happened. I got burned in an explosion. Landmine.”
She cringed. “I’m sorry.”
“Why?” He forced a grin. “You didn’t do it.”
She blinked as if she were caught off guard by the way he reacted to it but didn’t say anything more.
Just as he fastened the Velcro to the ace wrap, the doorbell rang. Chad made sure he got to the door first, peering through the peephole. Frank Norcross stood outside, tool belt slung low around his hips. Chad grinned as he tugged open the door and greeted the man.
Frank cringed when he saw the damage to the back door but thought he could get it fixed fairly quickly, with some modification. Lora stood, arms crossed, as he explained that a French door, with one side fixed permanent, would offer more security. She nodded in agreement and told him to do what he needed to do to seal off the hole. Chad helped him measure it before Frank left for the hardware superstore.
The door was framed and installed, though it took him until late into the evening to get it finished. Zeke arrived for his rotation, and for a while they all sat and watched Frank do his magic. A line of tension immediately went out of Lora’s shoulders when he told her it was done and showed her the completed product. She seemed especially appreciative of the deadbolt, extending it and retracting it several times to get used to the feel.
Frank wrote up the invoice and handed it off to Chad. Lora watched the exchange and anger tightened her features. As soon as Frank left, she held her hand out. “I’ll take the receipt, please.”
Chad smiled and shook his head. “Nah. We’ll take this one.” Actually, it would be coming out of his own personal account.
She took a step forward, brows furrowing over her eyes. “No, it’s my door.”
“No, it used to be your door before I forgot my head up my ass and you had to deal with a dickwad invading your home.” He winked at her. “Take it with good grace. Say thank you.”
Growling beneath her breath, she shook her head. “Thank you. You didn’t have
to do that.”
Chad dug some Smarties from his shirt pocket. He offered her a roll, but she wrinkled her nose in distaste. The expression was unbelievably cute on her stern face and he couldn’t help but grin at her.
Lora blinked at him and turned away without responding.
Sighing, he left Zeke in charge of their care and headed home. He’d been wearing the same clothes for entirely too long.
Walking into his apartment, the silence was striking. At Lora’s house, either Lora or Mercy were always making some kind of noise. Cleaning, cartoons, giggling, whispering. His apartment was bland in the extreme. Yeah, he had his electronics, but they didn’t have life. Even in the deep of night, Lora’s house pulsed with life.
Shoving his depressing thoughts aside, he dug in his refrigerator for something to munch on. Nothing. He ordered takeout and headed to the bathroom to clean up while he waited.
The heat of the shower relaxed his body, but his mind continued to work, trying to figure out how to get rid of the puke trying to run Lora’s life. High-powered people always had skeletons in their closets. The way Derek treated Lora hinted at something he was used to doing, so maybe there were other women he’d been involved with that hadn’t had a great experience. Maybe he could mention it to John.
Plus, the guy came from an investment family. They’d made money off of other people. They always had secrets.
He washed the sleeve for his prosthetic, then sprayed antibacterial in the prosthetic itself and left it in the bathroom. Hopping to the kitchen on his right leg he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, snatched his tablet from the charger on the counter and headed to the living room. He’d just sat down when the doorbell rang. Mmm, General Tso’s chicken. The dinner of champions.
Tiredness dragged at him, but the thought of seeing Dodd in his dreams again didn’t hold any appeal. Maybe if he surfed himself into tiredness, he’d leave him alone for the night.
* * *
LORA KNEW THE big guy with the scarred face was down the hallway, and there was another guard outside, Killian or something, but she still found herself pacing away the night, worrying.
Derek had been pissed when she’d denied him access to Mercy a couple of months ago. Tired of arguing, she’d finally agreed to take the multi-colored bear he’d brought for her, hoping that if she gave in on that aspect he’d leave her alone. Surprisingly, he did.
Derek’s visits and calls had become more frequent recently. Trying to reconnect on their anniversary was a total crock, but he’d had to try to exert his dominance over her again. When the judge had granted her divorce, she’d chosen not to pursue child support, just so that she would have no strings tying her to the bastard.
Too bad he didn’t recognize anything from the courts.
Lora heard a thump from the front of the house and her stomach clenched. Creeping down the hallway, she leaned her head into the living room to see if she could identify what had made the noise.
The front door was standing wide open and she heard feet running outside. Plastering herself to the wall, she eased toward the door to see what she could. The front porch light was on, but it only reached about ten feet out. Vaguely, she could see two figures wrestling in the grass.
Sliding back into the hallway she rushed to Mercy’s room. When she heard another thud, she sped up and swung the door open to her daughter’s room. From the light of the security pole outside, she could see the hunched figure of a man trying to force open the window.
Icy fear shot through her but she lunged for the bed, ripping back the covers. Mercy wasn’t there. “Mercy,” she hissed.
“Here, Mommy.”
Lora looked to the left and found her daughter coming out of the closet, bear clutched by one ear. Her eyes were wide with fright but she was calm as she came to her. Lora looked at the man at the window. He had stopped trying to pry into the room and just stood watching her, black mask over his face. Suddenly, he raised his gloved fist and shattered the glass with the big flashlight he had in his hand.
Lora jerked Mercy by the hand and slammed the door as they ran out of the room. Once out though, she wasn’t sure she wanted to go toward the front of the house. At least, not until she heard from the big guard.
As if she’d conjured him from her thoughts, the man came running around the corner from the living room. His rough face was flushed with exertion. Blood ran down his chin from a busted lip and he was panting heavily. “Are you okay?”
Lora nodded, holding Mercy against her legs. “Another was trying to get into Mercy’s room. He broke the glass.”
“Is he still there?”
“I don’t know.”
Zeke slid past her and into Mercy’s bedroom, but returned seconds later shaking his head. Reaching into his hip pocket, he pulled out his cell phone, thumbing in a number. With the other hand he guided them into her bedroom. Lora could hear the phone ringing on the other end of the line, then Chad’s drawl pick up.
“We’ve got visitors. You better g-get over here.”
Short and sweet. Zeke was a man of few words. He shoved the phone back in his pocket.
Guiding them around the bed, he nudged them toward the closet. “Wait ‘til I come back.”
And he disappeared.
Lora huddled into the corner of the closet, her arms wrapped around Mercy, and counted off the minutes. Fumbling on the floor, she found a tall heel and held it like a hammer, ready for anything that came through the door. Her heart thudded heavily and she wondered what was going on. She didn’t want Zeke to be hurt. Or the other guard. Or anybody for that matter. But she refused to let them have Mercy.
Though they hadn’t announced their names, she had no doubt who the men worked for. She was only a little surprised Derek hadn’t shown up to supervise the attack himself. Seemed like the narcissistic thing to do.
Within a surprisingly short amount of time, Zeke was knocking on the closet door. “You c-can come out now.”
Lora walked out, keeping Mercy behind her. For some reason, she’d expected there to be another mess for her to clean up, but everything was as she’d left it. When they went down the hall to the living room, Chad was at the front door. “Are you okay? Both of you?”
He stepped close enough that she could have walked into his arms if she’d wanted to. Lora frowned and shook her head, unable to believe she’d contemplate doing something so crazy.
Mercy had no problems flinging her arms around his neck though, then pulling back to tell him about the experience. Chad nodded at everything the girl said, but Lora could tell he was thinking internally. He caught her eyes. “I need you to pack a bag.”
Shit. Blinking, she turned without argument and headed toward her room. She threw essentials into a small suitcase, then turned to the heater vent in the floor, debating. For several long seconds, she wavered in indecision before going to her hands and knees and pulling the grate from the floor. Reaching inside, she dragged the plastic wrapped package from its hiding place and stored it in her bag along with everything else. Then she went to Mercy’s room to pack. Within just a few minutes she was back at the kitchen. Mercy was watching TV quietly while Zeke and Chad watched the windows.
Lora was having second thoughts about leaving. “Are you sure this is necessary?”
Chad held an arm out to guide her into the kitchen. “Your home was just broken into. Again.”
Lora understood what the investigator said, but it didn’t mean she had to like it. This was her home. And Mercy’s home. Her daughter would be devastated if they had to uproot everything while they waited this thing out.
“I need time to think.”
Chad nodded once. “That’s fine. But we don’t have a lot of time. If they try to break in again, it will be with more men. You don’t want to be here when they do. If we leave, he won’t be able to serve you with any documents, either. I can guarantee your safety and Mercy’s, but you have to trust me.”
Unable to help herself, she snorted. “
I’ve heard that before.”
“But not from me.”
As she looked into his vivid blue eyes, she could see his determination to do what was right.
“How long would we have to be gone?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. It depends upon how quickly Duncan can get his contacts moving. It may be a week or it may be three months. Derek is after you and Mercy. You, for throwing him over. But I feel like he wants Mercy for some other reason.”
Lora blinked as a domino suddenly fell into place in her mind.
“She’s a partial stock holder. I thought it was strange when I signed the papers with him, but if the business is having problems, maybe he needs her leverage.”
Chad pursed his lips and nodded. “If he gains custody, he gains her shares, basically.”
Lora looked at her young daughter watching TV. “Why would he try to take her then? I would have to sign over guardianship and he knows I won’t do that willingly.”
He tilted his head. “So maybe he’s aware of that and he feels the only way to manipulate you is by force.”
Lora sank down to the kitchen chair behind her, her knees suddenly weak.
“Regardless,” he continued, “I think we need to get you out of Dodge. Make you disappear. Things are escalating. If Zeke and Killian hadn’t been here, she would probably have been taken.”
A shudder rippled through her. She couldn’t imagine losing her daughter to that man. The thought was enough to make her sick.
The solid weight of a hand settled on her shoulder and she tensed. But as soon as the weight was there it was gone again. “We’ll take care of both of you.”
She looked up at him and knew he believed he could keep her safe. Years of frustrated struggling came back to her, and for the first time in longer than she could remember she wanted to let somebody help take care of Mercy. The two of them had been constant companions for her entire life. It would be hard to relinquish some of that control, but she had a feeling she was over her head with Derek. If he wanted to take their daughter, she had no doubt he would try. And his mother would be right there trying with him.
