I sucked my lip ring into my mouth. “Nah.” I proceeded to tell him about the conversation I’d had with Syd.
When I finished my story, he said, “Anything could have happened in six months. I’ll take some pressure off you around here. I’ll work with your man, Rafe, and we’ll keep things here buttoned up. Norma seems to have a handle on things too. So go fish out that lead.” He glanced at his watch. “The bar should be getting busy in a few hours.”
“Are you my knight in shining armor?” I teased.
He grinned, showing a set of perfect choppers. “I don’t swing that way, dude.”
I was about to ask him how his best bud, Kade, was doing after his honeymoon, when his phone rang. Fishing it out of his jeans, he headed outside to the small deck in the backyard, making himself right at home.
I played with my bottle cap, hoping someday I could have a relationship like Kade and Lacey had. I always knew the Maxwells loved hard. But seeing Kade say “I do” with enough love pouring off him to fill the lake behind their house shot shards of envy through me, almost tempting me to get married.
I laughed out loud.
Norma glided in. “Something funny?” She set the contract down in front of me then handed me a pen.
“I was thinking of Kade’s wedding.”
She sighed and gave me a funny look. “Oh my God. Why are you thinking about a wedding? I know you and Maggie are old rival gang buds, but jeepers, she didn’t swoop you off your feet already, did she? And where is she, by the way?”
My cheeks heated. Before we’d gone to the tattoo shop earlier, Maggie and Norma had started chatting up a storm about scarves and shit. I took comfort knowing that Norma approved of Maggie. “She had work to do.”
Norma’s mouth was slightly ajar. “Are you blushing? Dillon Hart blushes for the first time since I’ve met him. This should be one of Maggie’s headlines.”
I laughed… and fucking blushed. Since when do I get light-headed?
Norma’s small fingers grasped my hand.
I stopped fiddling with the pen.
“You need rest and a shower,” she said. “Sign the contract and then head home. The shelter will be fine. Debbie is on cold meds, so she’s asleep. Angel is curled up in her room, reading a thriller series. Rafe will be back shortly. He went home to shower. Hunt is here now. He’ll start tonight.”
I signed the contract. “Are you saying I stink?” I probably did with as hot as it was. I also needed a nap to take the edge off.
The slider whooshed open. “Sorry about that.” Hunt stalked back in. “My brother, Wes, wanted to make sure you signed the contract.”
I waved the document at him then gave it to Norma.
“I’ll send it over to him right now.” Her short legs carried her out of the room.
I trusted Norma. I trusted Rafe. And if Kade trusted Hunt with his life, then I had no worries about leaving the shelter with Hunt working security.
I got up and slapped Hunt on the back. “Thanks, man. I’ll check in with you and Rafe later.” I took the bottle of water and grabbed my keys.
“I’ll walk out with you,” Hunt said. “I need to get something out of my car.”
I said goodbye to Norma then left. Once outside, Hunt strutted over to his truck that was parked at the curb, stuck his head inside, and emerged with a gun in his hand. He then proceeded to tuck the gun in his holster. “Be careful if you venture over to the Crow. Wes told me that place could get rowdy the later you go.”
I was just coming down the last step on the porch, when a car screeched to a halt, blocking my driveway.
Hunt didn’t move from the sidewalk.
A man with a thick mustache climbed out of the passenger’s side with a gun in his holster. He regarded me then Hunt. “Is that you, Hunt?” the man asked.
The driver, stocky and somewhat bald, got out, rounded the vehicle, and sidled up to his partner.
Hunt met the two men halfway and stretched out his hand. “Detective Hughes, good to see you. Rick.”
I darted over to my car, threw my water bottle on the driver’s seat, then joined the men. So this was Hughes. I should thank him for turning Maggie onto Skins and Needles.
Rick took in the shelter before he set his gaze on me. “Are you the owner?”
“I’m Dillon Hart, and yes, I own this house. Is there a problem?” I hadn’t done anything wrong, although maybe Maggie had told Hughes Nadine had been here, and he wanted to question me about the redhead.
Detective Hughes’s head jerked my way. “You’re Maggie’s friend?” His tone hinted that he didn’t care too much that Maggie was friends with me.
I nodded as Hunt regarded me with a confused expression.
“She’s not here, is she?” Detective Hughes asked.
“Last I knew, she was at her office.”
Rick rested his hand on the gun at his hip as though he were expecting trouble. “We have a lead that we’re following up on.”
Ted removed a photo from his back pocket and showed Hunt and me. “Have you seen this girl?”
I deadpanned at the picture of Nadine with a sheet covering her up to her neck. A sharp pain cinched my heart. If I said yes, they might raid the shelter. Then Debbie and Angel would panic for sure. And if word got out that the cops had searched the home, then that could ruin my business. In addition, I wasn’t sure if Maggie would get into trouble with Hughes. A dark part of my brain wondered if Hughes knew Nadine had been there and wanted to see if I would lie.
My phone buzzed then rang. For the moment, I chose to let the call go to voice mail. It couldn’t have been important anyway since I was at the shelter, unless Allie or Bee was in trouble. Or maybe Denim had found out something on the Black Knights. I threw out the last one since Denim had said he would be in the yard with cellblock E on Thursday, and it was only Tuesday night.
The ringing stopped.
“Can’t say I have.” Hunt’s baritone voice pulled me back to the scorching night.
I shook my head once. “I haven’t either.” I couldn’t answer truthfully without knowing if I would get Maggie into trouble.
The detectives glanced at one another as though they were speaking telepathically.
“Mmm,” Hughes all but grunted. “We’re canvasing the area since her body was found a mile from here.”
My blood drained to my feet. Did the men who held her captive follow her and Maggie here last night?
Motherfucker.
Maggie could be in danger. The shelter could be too, and that alone caused me to squeeze the hell out of my keys.
Hunt nudged me. “What’s wrong?” The man was a savant in reading people. I was sure the two detectives were as well, especially with the way Ted was giving the stink eye, as if to say yeah, I know you’re lying.
My phone buzzed again.
This time I plucked it out of my pocket, not even looking to see who was calling. “Yeah.” I said the word hard and abrupt, like this better be good.
“I’ve been trying to call you.” Maggie’s sultry voice calmed me for a second.
I covered the phone. “I have to take this.” I walked down the street a ways, not bothering to wait for any acknowledgements from the detectives. If they wanted to haul me down to the station, then they were going to have to fight me.
When I was out of earshot, I said, “Ted is standing in my driveway at the shelter.”
“That was why I was calling.” Maggie’s voice hitched. “The girl they found is Nadine. They found her not far from the shelter. Did you tell him that Nadine had been there?”
“No. Did you?”
“I haven’t been able to. When I called him, the line went to voice mail.”
“If they got to Nadine a mile from here, then you were followed last night. Ted needs to know.”
“Let me tell him,” Maggie said. “Besides, if you change your answer now, he’ll just barrel into the shelter and start asking questions to your guests. They don’t need that.”
<
br /> It touched me that she had Debbie and Angel’s best interests at heart. “Fair enough. Oh, and Maggie, promise me you’ll watch your back.”
“Are you worried about me?” Her voice was sweet and silky, and the softness was sending a jolt of energy directly south.
I was worried about her. I was also a little concerned about a pimp or a gang that might be into sex trafficking knowing that I owned a shelter. Sure, they could find prostitutes and homeless women on the streets for their business, but the shelter might be an easy target to woo my guests or to kidnap them, especially if Nadine told her pimp where she’d been last night.
“Are we on to head to the Crow later?” she asked.
“Meet me at my house in two hours. I’ll text you the address.”
“Dillon,” Hunt called.
“Got to run.” I ended the call before I spilled my guts and said something I might regret, like I was developing feelings for her. The lust for her was messing with my head. That much, I was certain of. Or maybe I was falling for her.
I rolled back my shoulders and returned to the group.
A radio from the car crackled. Rick dipped his head inside.
Ted regarded me with cold, dark eyes. “You look nothing like your brother, Denim.”
I did a double take. “You know my brother?”
“I arrested him,” Ted said, as though he were proud of that day.
I couldn’t recall who the arresting officer was in Denim’s case. When I’d found out what my brother had done, he was already in jail. I had Grace to find anyway. She’d taken up my life more so than my brother.
“He’s innocent,” I volleyed back.
“Is that right?” Ted asked. “The evidence doesn’t say so.”
Rick popped his head out of the car. “Hey, boss. We got to run. Paul found something on our dead girl you’re not going to like.”
Ted considered me one more time before he and Rick got into the car and sped off.
“Asshole,” I muttered.
Maggie had a soft spot for the cop, but fuck if I would. I had no doubt he had already formed his opinion of me before he met me.
“Easy, big guy,” Hunt said. “That cop can make your life suck the big one.”
Whatever.
“You knew the girl in that photo, didn’t you?” Hunt said more than asked.
It was best I didn’t involve him. I’d hired him to watch the shelter, nothing more. “I appreciate your help, but I’ll handle the detectives.”
Hunt caught my arm. “I’m here if you need me.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you later.” I stormed over to my car, got in, and drove away.
I didn’t need him. I needed Maggie.
14
Maggie
I stood on Dillon’s front porch in an upscale neighborhood with manicured lawns, nice, shiny cars parked in driveways, and two- and three-story homes that seemed cozy and lived-in by the looks of the curtains and soft lights in the windows. This was a major step up from where the shelter was located.
Damn, the man had done well for himself.
My knuckles were primed to knock, when my phone trilled. Ted’s name came across the screen. I’d called him about twenty minutes after I’d spoken to Dillon. I’d wanted to give Ted enough time to wrap up his business with Dillon. Since then, Ted and I had been playing phone tag for one reason or another.
I’d never intended for Dillon to lie for me, and I hated that he had. Ted wasn’t going to be happy when he found out either, which would strain any chance of him trusting Dillon, especially when Ted had arrested Denim.
Aside from that, when I’d learned from Deidre’s news segment that Nadine’s body had been found a mile from the shelter, I’d almost fallen off my desk chair. I wanted to believe that she and I weren’t followed that night, but how else would anyone have known where to find Nadine unless she’d contacted someone before she left the shelter. I didn’t remember if she’d had a phone on her, but the shelter had landlines.
“Hey,” I said into the phone.
“I need you to come down to the precinct,” Ted said coldly.
Icy chills zipped down my spine. “Why?” Usually when Ted wanted to chat, we always met at the coffee house down from the precinct. “Too many ears,” Ted would say.
I had a feeling I was in trouble. Maybe Dillon had told Ted the truth after we’d hung up. Also if Ted wanted to share any information with the press, he would’ve said that.
“Just get down here. I have another call coming in.” Then the line went dead.
I dropped my head back and sighed. If I didn’t get my butt down to the police station, then Ted would put out a search party for me. But I was at Dillon’s already. I had to at least tell him that I couldn’t go with him to the Crow.
I was primed to knock again, when the door opened, and I lost my breath.
“I thought I heard something out here,” Dillon said with a predatory grin as he casually held the edge of the doorjamb.
My stomach did a flip or two as I perused his tall body.
His hair was wet. Tattered jeans hugged his toned legs. His button-up shirt was open, showing parts of his winged tattoo. As if the god-like sight of him wasn’t enough to send my body into a frenzy, I caught a whiff of his cologne, fresh and clean, on the light breeze, and I almost whimpered.
He opened his arm to wave me inside.
I shouldn’t go in. Danger signals were flashing—seductive danger signals. Tell him you have to leave. The problem was my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth.
“You’re letting out the cold air,” he rasped.
His voice was igniting my body, and if that weren’t enough to send me into overdrive, his gaze sure was as it did one of those roaming patterns, just like he’d done when I’d been standing in his basement. Then and now, my body quivered, and I swore I had a hundred and ten degree temperature.
I needed water desperately. I also needed to take a cold shower, but as the chilly air filtered out and over me, my legs moved until I was standing in his house, which felt like an icebox.
The door closed. The lock clicked.
I flinched.
Then Dillon’s hands were on my shoulders as his breath tickled the back of my neck. He gently removed my heavy bag from my body. “Relax.”
I giggled nervously. I considered myself a confident woman. I didn’t mince words. I never melted into a pool of water when a handsome man touched me or was near me or even spoke. I was seeing a side of myself that was new territory—scary and amazing all at the same time.
As soon as I was free of the weight of the bag, I waltzed down the hall along the staircase, passing a living room and a bathroom before I entered the kitchen. Water, ice-cold, was on my mind, not how clean and nice his house was.
The sink was deep, and the faucet had one of those spray nozzles that would work to wash the sweat from my face and lower my body temperature.
Dillon’s bare feet thudded until he was again near me at the sink.
“Water,” I said.
He snatched a cup from the cabinet, added ice, then water from the built-in feature on the fridge.
When he handed me the cup, his fingers grazed mine ever so lightly, and tingles shot up along my scalp. Usually, I only felt that way when my hairdresser shampooed my hair.
My damn heartbeat was on a collision course with my ribs. I didn’t waste any time gulping down the cool liquid, which didn’t make a dent in quenching the fire burning a hole in my throat, nor did it calm the need that pulsed in my erect nipples.
Once the cup was empty, I set it down on the counter, looking at the floor rather than Dillon. I was afraid I would combust if I met his gaze.
Get a grip, woman. You’re strong. You’re confident, and no one rattles your cage. They haven’t since Lou toughened you up.
I mentally slapped myself for being a nervous ninny. I’d slept with men before. Yet if I were being honest with myself, I was afraid that one night with Dillon H
art would ruin me. I wasn’t completely sure I was ready to be ruined. I had a good life. I was working on getting my revenge on Cory. I got laid when I wanted. I didn’t have to worry about someone breaking my heart or me breaking his.
Dillon, who hadn’t left my personal space, placed a finger underneath my chin, gentle but firm. “Are you calm now? You seem nervous. Is it Ted? Did you tell him about Nadine?”
He’d said Ted’s name as though he were ready to do a number on him, just as he’d done on that boy in my gang who had messed with Grace. Nevertheless, at the sound of Ted’s name, my head came up and my eyes met his. My lust-filled bubble burst, and I felt a small amount of relief. For the moment, I didn’t want to crawl up Dillon’s hard body. I had to get down to the precinct.
“We’ve been playing phone tag.” My voice sounded like Minnie Mouse.
Dillon’s tongue snaked out like one of the bearded dragons I loved. And in the blink of an eye, that lust, primal and strong, came back with a vengeance. Ted’s name was forgotten. The room dimmed. The hum of the fridge played like soft music, setting the mood. And boy, the mood was filled with tension, lust, anticipation, and heavy breathing, on my part anyway.
My chest rose, pushing out my big breasts that I sometimes wished were a tad smaller, only because they occasionally got in the way. But this was one time I wanted them to get in the way. I wanted to will Dillon’s hands to grab onto them, or at least relieve the pain throbbing in my nipples.
His gaze lowered the minute my chest lifted on an inhale. This time, he ran his tongue over his lip ring. His hooded eyes told me a story I would never write for the paper—maybe my journal or a filthy romance novel. Despite all that, I was dying to know how that shiny, smooth lip ring would feel against my clit.
As though we were slow dancing, he shaped my hips, turned me so my back was leaning against the counter, then caged me in as if I were an animal he was trying to tame.
I wanted to scream that I was a bad girl and needed to be taught a lesson. I wasn’t into soft sex or making love. On the last word, I silently laughed. I wasn’t sure what love was or how it felt. The word alone was foreign to me. I’d lived in foster care, where families fought, bickered, yelled, and hardly laughed. I’d never heard the word “love” uttered from one spouse to another. The closest anyone had come to showing me what love could be like was my boss, Bruce, and his family. The man got all sappy when he mentioned his wife. And while Ted was a widower, he’d treated me like a daughter, although he hadn’t told me he loved me.
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