Tough as Nails (COBRA Securities Book 10)

by Velvet Vaughn

  “I’m right here.” He jerked his head and promptly regretted the move when his skull throbbed in protest. He dropped to the pillow with a groan.

  Soft, cool hands gripped his unbroken arm and he was immediately soothed. “Those sudden movements are a killer.”

  “No kidding.” He blinked his lids open, unable to contain the dopey grin. “How long was I out?”

  “Just an hour or so,” she answered. “They need to wake you up intermittingly to make sure there are no lingering effects from the concussion.”

  “You stayed?”

  Chapter Seven

  After fleeing the scene of the crime, Rocky stopped by the motel lobby on the way to his room. He needed to gather intel and Bob the hotel manager looked as if he liked to talk. People thought women were gossips, but men were just as bad, if not worse. He’d had a cellmate once who talked so much, Rocky had to silence him with a fist to the nose and a sharpened toothbrush handle to the kidney. It’d earned him time in Solitary, but so worth it. “Hey, Bob, how’s it going?”

  “Not bad.”

  “Say, I heard a rumor that a television show would be taping on the island. They’re remodeling a house or something.”

  “That’s right. Home Run Homes. They’re renovating—hey! It’s the old Grimes place.”

  Rocky’s eyes rounded in feigned surprise. “Really? Martin’s beach house?”

  “That’s the one. I completely forgot about that when you asked about the family.”

  “What do you know about the filming?”

  “Just that they will be here for six weeks or so and they’re gutting the entire place. It’ll be a real gem when they’re finished.”

  “I’m sure it will.” Rocky’s blood pounded. He had to get inside before they did. “I was thinking of staying on the island for a while. I love it here. Do you know if the show hires locals to work?”

  Bob nodded. “They contracted with a buddy of mine, Tony Tindale. He owns a construction company. TT’s Beach Builds. They’re going to do a lot of the work under the supervision of the television crew.”

  “That’s excellent. Hey, I don’t suppose you could line up an interview for me? I have plenty of construction experience.”

  “I don’t see why not. You seem like a stand-up guy. I’ll give Tony a call, see what I can do.”

  Rocky slapped the counter. “Thanks, Bob, I appreciate it.”

  He headed to his room to shower. He didn’t want to work for the show but if he couldn’t find what he was looking for before they descended upon the house, he needed an in. Maybe he could sneak inside at night to search while the rest of the crew went off to get drunk or high or laid…whatever floated their boats.

  After yanking off his shirt, he paused. What if they did a background check on him? Daryl Pitts was a school custodian. He’d just told Bob he had construction experience. He grabbed his cell and dialed Einstein, telling him what he needed. Within minutes, he was jotting down a new name and social security number. He was now a construction worker from Phoenix. Perfect.

  The hot water cascading over him felt good and he lingered. The showers were lukewarm at best in the slammer. After drying off, he grabbed a t-shirt and tugged it on, checking himself out in the mirror. He wasn’t the best-looking guy. His nose had been broken more than once and he had a nasty scar cutting through one eyebrow, courtesy of a homemade shiv during a brutal brawl in the yard. Still, his muscles were bulging and defined, thanks to hours lifting weights. Chicks dug his tattoos…or he figured they would once they saw them. He’d been behind bars for so long and most of the ink was fresh, including the spider webs covering both elbows. Leslie sure as shit had dug them. He shuddered a bit thinking of the encounter in her rig. Good thing he had a healthy imagination. She was one ugly female.

  He got into his truck and found the hospital. He needed to know how bad he’d hurt Reed Steele. Man, he still couldn’t believe it’d been Steele’s head he’d tried to bash with the shovel. After parking in the emergency lot, he casually strolled inside, ignoring the old woman who wrinkled her nose at him. Old biddy. She reminded him of Granny…oh shit! Granny! He hadn’t called her today. He checked his watch. It was late, way past her bedtime. He found a pay phone in the lobby and dialed her number. No way would he use his new cell phone. He didn’t want her having that number.

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s me, Granny, Ricky.”

  “Why are you calling this late, boy? You know I was already asleep.”

  “I didn’t want to miss a call. I knew you would be worried if I didn’t check in.”

  She snorted. “Been saved yet?”

  “Not yet. I’m meeting with the minister first thing in the morning.”

  “Call me once you accept Jesus Christ as your savior.”

  “I wi—” The line went dead before he could respond. He barely stifled the urge to slam the receiver on the hook. He tried inhaling deeply like some weird new-age chick instructed them when she came to the prison to work with the inmates. Damn do-gooders were always trying to change them, reform them. Most of the men behind bars were beyond reform. Him included.

  When he felt calmer—maybe that hippie knew what she was talking about—he approached a woman wearing a matching outfit with motorcycles emblazoned on the top and pants. Her tag read Mandy, RN. Mandy was into motorcycles, so she was probably into motorcycle dudes. He didn’t actually have one, but he looked the part.

  “Excuse me, ma’am, I was hoping you could help me.”

  When Mandy didn’t turn away in disgust, he flexed his muscles and noticed her eyes follow the movement. Hooked. “A friend of mine was brought in tonight and I wanted to check on his condition.”

  “Sure, doll. Follow me.” He trailed after her as she led him to a work station. She slipped behind the counter and tapped on a computer. “What’s your friend’s name?”

  “Reed Steele.”

  Her hands stilled and a smile lit her face. “I don’t have to look that up. I know Mr. Steele is expected to make a full recovery.”

  Rocky wiped the back of his hand across his forehead and let out a sigh. “That’s a relief. Can you tell me what his injuries are?”

  She shook her head. “Sorry, I can’t give out that information. Privacy rules.”

  “Right, right. I understand. It’s enough to know he’ll recover.” He smiled and eyed her up and down. “I don’t suppose you have a break coming up, Mandy? I’ll buy you a cup of coffee…or something.”

  Mandy stood and adjusted her top, thrusting her ample chest forward. “As a matter of fact, I do have a break coming up.”

  #

  “Yeah, I—”

  Hillary clamped her mouth shut. Reed’s eyes had drifted closed again. The sheet had slipped from his chest to reveal the top of his eight-pack abs and she ogled him mercilessly. The man was incredibly ripped. She wasn’t embarrassed to admit she’d never gotten rid of the calendar he posed for when he was an all-star shortstop in the majors. The picture was nice, but it still didn’t do him justice. He was magnificent. Her fingers itched to trace the bumps and ridges. She wanted to follow the trail of light blond hair down—

  “I’ll be back in about an hour to check on him again. Do you need a blanket or anything?”

  Hillary felt another blush creep up her neck. How embarrassing to be caught ogling an unconscious man. “I’m good. Thank you.”

  “He’s doing well. If everything looks good in the morning, he’ll be released.”

  Once the nurse departed, she eased back to the chair. It was the wee hours of the morning already. She should go back to the cottage and check on Kota, but as much as she hated hospitals, she couldn’t make herself leave his side. She felt responsible for him. If his head injury was worse than they thought and he lapsed into a coma or worse, she’d be devastated. Another person she couldn’t save.

  Thankfully, the nurses had allowed her to stay. Connie explained to them how Hillary’s presence calmed Reed. She’d fi
nally confronted Connie on their relationship, relieved to discover she was the producer for his popular television show. They were here to remodel the house where Reed had been attacked.

  Connie had been distressed that Hillary didn’t know about the renovations. Apparently, all the home owners in the vicinity had been notified of the work weeks ago. Hillary explained that she would only be at the cottage a few more days, before work started. That’s when Connie latched on to her idea of hiring Hillary like a dog with a bone. When Connie first asked her to work for them, the denial was instant, the panic overwhelming. At one time, when she was assigned a job, the first thing she felt was the rush of adrenalin coursing through her veins. She relished the responsibility and was certain of her abilities. After the incident in Greece, her confidence had been destroyed. She hadn’t been able to stop Daphne’s kidnapping. What if she’d lost all her skills? She loved her job, her bosses, her coworkers. She’d be crushed if she had to walk away. What would she do with the rest of her life? It was all she knew. And now that it looked like her brother would be working beside her, having to step down would damage her worse than any bullet.

  She’d hesitated in accepting the job. She let Connie think it was because she was on vacation. She didn’t want the woman to know she doubted her abilities. She promised she’d contact her bosses and give her an answer in the morning. One way or another, a COBRA Securities agent would take the job…she just wasn’t sure it would be her, as much as she wanted it to be.

  She’d delayed contacting Luke or Logan for fear they would say no and even more worried they would say yes. It was one thing for her to question her skills, another for her bosses to doubt them. She’d worked so hard to prove herself in a man’s world. It wasn’t always fair and it was never easy, but she’d done a respectable job. Dorian had trusted her to protect his sister and she’d let him down. He’d never said so…the opposite, in fact. He’d apologized to her for not taking the threat seriously and sending another agent along. He’d felt personally responsible that she’d been injured. She’d been the one forgiving him when it should’ve been the other way around.

  Another hour passed and the nurse returned to wake Reed. As soon as his eyes opened, he reached for her. She clasped his hand and almost dropped it at the jolt that occurred when they touched. The nurse asked him to give his name and the date and answer a few more questions. She made him sip water with a straw before she checked his IV and quietly left the room.

  “Hi.”

  “Hi.” She smiled at him. “Do you feel any better?”

  “A little. But I hate hospitals.”

  “So do I.”

  Reed’s brows raised. “You do? Why…if you don’t mind me asking?”

  She shrugged, not prepared to delve into the details of her last assignment. “Too much time in them,” she hedged, hoping he didn’t press for details. Thankfully, he didn’t.

  “Me, too.” He tugged the sheet aside, revealing his damaged knee. She remembered exactly when he obtained the injury. She’d been watching the game with a few of her coworkers. The illegal rolling block had been replayed endlessly, from every possible angle. She winced every single time. She knew he’d been in pain, but he gritted it out, even with a camera practically shoved in his face. She’d teared up when they had to cart him off the field and when he flashed the crowd a thumb’s up, she’d stood and cheered with them. Her coworkers had ragged her endlessly but she didn’t care. She’d been desolate when she heard that the injury ended his career.

  “The nurse said if you do well the rest of the night, you’d probably be released in the morning.” When he didn’t answer, her gaze snapped to his. He was staring at her intently. She was horrified to realize she’d been stroking the scars along his knee without even realizing it. She jerked her hand away.

  Reed cleared his throat. “Suddenly, I realize that I’m very naked under the sheet.”

  Oh, God. Hillary wanted to slither away in mortification. She fumbled for her purse. “I should probably be going.”

  Reed grabbed her hand. “Hillary, wait. Don’t go.”

  She had to…she couldn’t stay. If she did, she might be tempted to rip off the sheet. She got all hot and achy thinking about him naked under there. “I need to check on Kota.”

  “Kota? Your dog?” At her nod, he said, “I meant to ask his name. I remember when I woke up, he was leaning against my legs.”

  “He was protecting you.”

  “Damn,” he murmured. “I owe him a juicy T-bone or something.”

  She smiled. “He’d be happy with Beggin’ Strips. He’s a bacon whore.”

  “Can dogs be whores?” Reed laughed and then groaned. “Ow. Gotta remember the head.”

  “I’ll leave so you can get some rest.”

  “Wait.” She realized he was still holding her hand and somehow, their fingers ended up threaded together. When did that happen?

  “Where are you staying?”

  “In the cottage next door to the house you’re renovating.”

  “For how long?”

  “A week.”

  He smiled. “I will see you again.” His lids drooped and then he was out, but his grip never slacked. She was torn on what to do…remove her hand or stay? She did need to check on Kota. He wouldn’t tear the place up or anything, but she didn’t like leaving him alone in an unfamiliar place too long. Reluctantly, she eased her grip and lowered Reed’s hand to the bed. She couldn’t stop her fingers from brushing a strand of blond hair from his forehead. In sleep, his features were relaxed, giving him an almost boyish look. But he was no boy. He was all man.

  She finally forced her body to move. If she stayed too long, the nurse would be back to wake him and he’d try to talk her into staying. Lord knows, he’d be able to talk her into pretty much anything.

  With one last look, she grabbed her purse and quietly exited the room.

  Chapter Eight

  Hillary’s lungs rejoiced when she stepped outside and the scent of the salt air replaced the medicinal smells. A brisk wind blew from the nearby Atlantic Ocean and she shuddered. She felt guilty for fleeing while Reed slept, but she didn’t even know him.

  Punching the button on her key fob, she unlocked the door, checking her surroundings as she approached. It was a habit that she didn’t even realize anymore. It was second nature. After settling inside and engaging the locks, exhaustion pressed down on her. It’d been a long night.

  Traffic was non-existent as she headed towards the cottage. She bet the roads were crowded during the summer months, as tourists descended upon the picturesque island. As she drove past the house Reed would be renovating, she did a double take. She would swear she saw a light on inside. After turning into the parking area for her cottage, she glanced over again. There! Definitely a light. Someone was inside the house.

  After grabbing a flashlight from her glove box, she dialed 9-1-1 and rattled off the address. She hung up as the dispatcher tried to urge her to go inside her own house and lock the doors. Oh, she was going to go inside her house all right…to get her dog. She leaped onto the porch, disarmed the security system and called out to Kota. Alerted to her tone, he went into work mode. She gave him a command that would put him on guard. After grabbing her SIG from her purse, she jogged across the gravel to the house next door, Kota keeping pace at her side. She tried the handle, not surprised to find it unlocked. She pushed it open and flashed her light inside, highlighting a large shape in a black mask. It was the same man who hit Reed.

  “Freeze or I’ll send my attack dog after you,” she warned.

  The large shape bolted.

  “Kota, capture safe.”

  The dog took off at her command to stop the perp but not harm him too badly. A few bites would be expected, she figured. The person was trespassing, after all.

  #

  Rocky had just broken back into the house to search when he heard a noise on the porch. She-it, can’t a guy break and enter in peace? Reed Steele was still in t
he hospital. Who could this be? He swung around just as someone appeared in the door. Thank goodness he’d thought to pull on the ski mask.

  “Freeze or I’ll send my attack dog after you,” a feminine voice called.

  Rocky froze. She had a dog? He was terrified of dogs, though he’d never admit it. He’d been bitten by a bulldog when he was younger and it left a vicious scar on his forearm. He’d covered it with a tat of the dog that bit him, wheels up with a stake in the heart. Some people thought the image of a dead dog was tasteless. Rocky considered it payback. The fact that he’d been trying to pick the mutt up by its tail and swing it through the air…again…was beside the point.

  This dog looked meaner than the one that bit him. No way would he become another Scooby Snack.

  He bolted for the side exit and inadvertently let out a little squeak when the dog pursued. He’d never make it to the door with Cujo on his heels. It was disconcerting to realize the dog didn’t make a sound. Not a woof or bark or growl. Silent but deadly came to mind. With no other choice, Rocky launched himself through a window. He was flying through the air, his arms wind-milling uselessly. The ground rushed up to meet him and the impact jarred him. Thank goodness for sand. He didn’t have time to whimper. Pushing to his feet, he took off for a dead run down the beach. He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widening to see Cujo staring at him from the broken window.

  When the dog didn’t follow, he laughed for outwitting the stupid animal. That’s when he noticed the pain. He glanced at his arm and the thick shard of glass piercing his jacket. She-it.

  #

  Kota was silent in his pursuit, the only sound his nails tapping against the scarred wood floor. Glass shattered and she rushed to the sound with her gun at the ready. She felt a breeze as she rounded a corner. Kota was poised to jump through a broken window. “Kota, halt.” He dropped to his haunches but kept his gaze trained on the hole. He was vibrating with energy, not happy with being denied his prey, but he obeyed her commands without question. Her brother had done an amazing job training him.