by J. Kenner
"But you can't," I said, thinking of my sister. Of my life. Of my uncle. "Nobody can."
His grin was wide, achingly sexy, and desperately sad. He reached out, then lightly stroked my cheek. "Watch me."
I did, but only in the sense that I watched him leave. I stayed there, alone on the patio. Just me and my confusion and mortification. Not to mention two dozen people I barely knew. All of us on this Chicago rooftop, hurtling through space and time and the universe.
I stared after him, not moving. Not really even thinking. Behind me, the fireworks over the Navy Pier began to explode and suddenly the night sky was alive with color. I barely noticed. The only color I saw was Evan, his hue standing out against the backdrop of gray that had consumed me.
It took a full five minutes before I realized that I was still holding my phone.
I pulled up the message and, despite my confusion, I smiled.
Just landed. You okay?
I typed my answer--Surviving, I think--then hesitated. I wanted to edit it before hitting send. To tell Flynn about what just happened with Evan, whom he's heard about ad nauseam since we were both sixteen. About how I was seeing Jahn's ghost around every corner. About how much I hated death and funerals and I wished that I were a runner because then I could shove my feet into some Nikes and just go.
I didn't type any of that, though. Instead, I just hit send.
I'll be there in 10.
I couldn't help but smile. He really did know me well.
It's okay. People leaving.
Don't want you alone.
Kevin's taking me home w/ him.
There was a pause before the next text came through, and I understood why. I've spent far too many nights boring him with my rants about how Kevin is empirically perfect and I'm an idiot to even contemplate blowing him off.
Is that what you want?
It wasn't, of course. What I wanted was Evan. His voice in my ear. His hand on my back. I wanted to return to that place in the sky, and I was suddenly terribly afraid that he was the only one who could get me there.
Violently, I jabbed my finger on the keypad. I really wasn't going to do self-analysis by text. Just not happening.
Gotta go. TTYL
I set the phone on Do Not Disturb and shoved it back in my purse. If he texted me back, I didn't want to know about it. I looked up in time to see that Kevin had entered the patio and was looking right at me, his expression quizzical. I wasn't terribly surprised. I was feeling ripped to pieces, not to mention confused and unsatisfied and more than a little bit guilty about my pleasant, odd, and totally unexpected encounter with Evan. Unfortunately, I didn't have the chance to adjust my expression before he zeroed in on me.
"You're looking tired," he said, smiling gently as he took my hand. "Let's go."
"Tired being a euphemism for destroyed?"
"What can I say? I minored in English."
My laugh was completely genuine. "You're a good man, Agent Warner," I said. "You deserve more than a wreck like me."
"Maybe I like a fixer-upper." He lifted our joined hands and kissed my fingertips. "You need distance. Come on. I already told Peterson I was whisking you away," he added, referring to Jahn's ever-present but usually invisible butler. "He'll make sure the rest of the guests get on their way."
I let him tug me toward the door. The guests were already leaving, and a few pulled me aside, giving me a hug and an encouraging word. Kat hurried over as we neared the entrance hall. "You're heading out?"
"She needs to get away for the night," Kevin said. "I'm taking her to my place."
"Great," Kat said, her voice bland, but a question in her eyes. I wished I could answer it. Cliche, maybe, but I could have used a night of nail polish and ice cream and talking about men.
"It's gonna get easier," Kat said, then pulled me into a tight hug.
"So they tell me."
"Tomorrow," she said. "We'll meet for cupcakes, okay?"
"Definitely," I said, because who turns down cupcakes or sympathy from her best friend?
I didn't see Tyler or Cole, and since I agreed that I needed to get out of there sooner rather than later, I continued willingly toward the door, figuring I'd see them in a couple of days at the attorney's office. I still had the trauma of the will to look forward to. Maybe after that, I could start to heal.
I heard Evan before I saw him, that low, whiskey-smooth voice unmistakable. I was overcome by the desire to take a detour. Unfortunately, he was right by the front door.
"I understand," he was saying. "But this isn't the place."
"It's just without the damn liquor license, I can't get enough traffic to turn the profit we need, and I can't get the license without--"
I could see him now, and I watched as he cut off a stout, weasel-faced man with a hand to the shoulder. "Now's not the time. But I promise you I'll take care of it."
"Seriously?"
I saw a muscle twitch in Evan's cheek. "Are you doubting my word?"
The weasel looked a little bit terrified that he might have offended Evan. "Oh, no. I didn't mean that you--"
"It's not a problem." Evan's voice was a blanket of calm against the hyper backpedaling. "I've got a few favors I can call in. We'll get it worked out."
The weasel nodded. "I'll owe you. I know I'll owe you."
I saw the moment Evan noticed me. Just the slightest shift of his gaze from the weasel to my face, and then back again. "Tomorrow," Evan said. "We'll talk." Then he turned to me, effectively dismissing the weasel, who slipped through the door, shoulders sagging in what looked like relief.
"Angie." His voice stroked me like a strong, firm hand, and I felt my body heat in memory of his touch. His eyes flicked to Kevin. "Agent Warner."
"Nice speech," Kevin said. He held his hand out to shake. "You're an articulate man."
"It pays to be able to persuade people in my line of work," Evan said.
For a moment, I thought he was going to ignore Kevin's outstretched hand. Then he reached out--and as he did, I saw the raw, red knuckles. I couldn't believe I hadn't noticed them before, and I had to blame my lack of attention on the dark. And on the fact that I'd been somewhat preoccupied by his general proximity, his touch, and my raging hormones.
"Evan! What happened?"
"Street fighting, Mr. Black?" Kevin said, in what must have been a joke but just sounded rude to me.
"If I was," Evan said smoothly, "the other guy must be pretty fucked up." He held the hand up for inspection. "I'd say I got off easy."
For a moment, the two just stared at each other, a sticky, uncomfortable tension filling the space between them. Forget the War of the Roses, that historic battle was nothing compared to this War of the Alphas, and I had a sick feeling that I was the root of the trouble.
"It's hardly a joke," I snapped. "Seriously, Evan, you should clean that up. And for Christ's sake, Kevin. Could you be any more of a jerk?"
He angled a glance at me. "Sorry."
"It's fine," Evan said. "Really. I was helping a friend with her car. My hand slipped, and the engine was still pretty hot. It wasn't pleasant, but I'll survive."
"You should be more careful," Kevin said.
"I'm always careful," Evan countered smoothly. "But sometimes shit happens."
He was right. Jahn's death was about as shitty as it got.
For a moment, the silence hung awkwardly between the three of us. Then Kevin hooked his arm around my shoulder. "She's had a hell of a day. We're going to get out of here."
I waited for Evan to say goodbye, some tiny part of me hoping that he'd step in and insist I stay in the condo, because how could he just let me leave with Kevin? But he only stood there. There was no sign--no hint--of the man who'd evoked such sensuality on the patio. The man whose voice had told me to fly and whose touch had burst through me with at least as much color and flare as tonight's fireworks.
I was too tired and too slashed to try to understand it or even to think about it. All I felt wa
s sad.
"Will you tell Tyler and Cole goodbye for me?"
"Sure," he said, and though his voice was more gentle than I'd expected, I noticed that he didn't say that he'd talk to me soon or that I'd be seeing the guys in a day or so. Once again I was struck by the awful reality: Everything had changed. Jahn had been our intersection point, and now that he was gone, I felt adrift.
I grabbed Kevin's hand and hurried out of the condo before the tears I'd been fighting all night began to flow.
As soon as we were on the elevator, Kevin repeatedly jabbed his finger on the lobby button as if he couldn't get out of there quickly enough. "At least that's one good thing that will come of your uncle's death," he said darkly.
"Excuse me?"
"I just mean that you won't be seeing those three anymore."
"What the hell?" My voice lashed out like a whip, but I didn't care. As far as I was concerned, there was nothing--nothing--good that could come out of Jahn's death, and that most especially included losing three men I counted as friends.
"I'm sorry," he said simply.
"Good. You should be. Now tell me why you'd say something like that."
"Dammit, Angie, I can't. I shouldn't have said anything in the first place."
"No, you shouldn't have. But you did. And now you're going to explain."
"Angie ..." He trailed off, his voice firm.
I crossed my arms over my chest. No way was he getting off the hook that easily. "Is this about that bullshit investigation a few years ago? I mean, honestly, Kevin, you were a shit to them earlier tonight."
"Bullshit investigation? Do you even know what we were talking about?"
"Do you?" I countered. He'd only been in the Bureau for four years. That whole fiasco that Jahn had told me about with his knights was a full year before Kevin's time.
"Burnett was, and he's told me enough. I know you grew up around them, but that doesn't make them good guys. They were fencing stolen merchandise, Angie."
I gaped at him. "That's insane. They're businessmen, just like my uncle."
"They have their fingers in a lot of businesses, I won't argue that."
I narrowed my eyes, irritated by the smirky tone of his voice. "If what you're saying is true, they'd be behind bars instead of being the toast of Chicago. I mean, come on, Kevin. They're three of the most prominent--not to mention public--men in this city. They aren't holed up in some lame-ass pawn shop buying stolen stereos." I mean, seriously, what the hell kind of game was Kevin playing?
"You say they're businessmen?" Kevin said. "I'm not disagreeing. But not all businesses are legit, and you damn well know it."
I started to reply, but held my tongue, because as much as I didn't want to concede any point to Kevin, I had to silently admit that on the surface what he said was true. My father had helped draft dozens of crime prevention bills and oversaw at least as many task forces at the state level over the years. And since he wasn't a man to leave his work at the office, I couldn't help but pick up some salient points here and there. And one thing I knew was that legitimate businesses often stood as fronts for criminal enterprises. But Evan's businesses? Tyler's and Cole's?
I wanted to stamp my foot and tell Kevin he was being absurd. That there was nothing about their businesses that would make the government even look twice. But my foot stayed firmly on the ground. Because now that he'd shined a spotlight, I couldn't help but notice one or two red flags.
The biggest one was Destiny, of course, the high-end gentleman's club they owned together, and which had been a bone of contention between them and my uncle, who thought they were wasting their money and tarnishing their reputations. The guys, apparently, either hadn't agreed or cared.
Other than the anomaly of the club, the guys were in the business of businesses. They'd founded Knight Enterprises, which bought and sold companies, and its exceptional performance had rocketed the guys into multimillionaire status. I'd asked Jahn to explain to me what they did, and he'd run me through the basics. Essentially, they acquired all sorts of businesses, everything from car washes to liquor stores to temp agencies to I don't know what else. Some, like the burrito place, they kept, hiring managers for the day-to-day stuff, and folding the business in under the umbrella of their holding company. Others they sold, making money off the various assets and real estate.
In other words, they were gambling, making their fortune by betting on the acquisitions doing well. Apparently, they made a lot of really good bets.
Ten minutes before, all of that seemed perfectly legit. Now Kevin's suspicions had me hearing words like fencing and smuggling and money laundering. Had I been blind? Or was Kevin being an ass?
Both possibilities pissed me off, and my words came out sharper than I'd intended. "If there was any evidence then the case wouldn't have been dropped. Five years, Kevin. You're all ruffled about some blip on the radar from five years ago."
"It wasn't a blip," he said. "And I never said that was the only reason I wanted you to stay away from them. Dammit, Angie, I care about you. I don't want you around men like them."
The elevator slid to a stop, the doors opened, and we stepped out. He headed toward the exit, but I wasn't even close to being done with this conversation. I grabbed his sleeve and tugged him into a small alcove near the wall of mailboxes. "No way are you leaving me hanging," I said. "You say they're bad news, you tell me why."
"You know I can't talk specifics, Angie."
"Shit." I snapped out the curse, because I understood the unspoken message. The allegations from five years ago may have disappeared, but Jahn's knights were still in the FBI's sights. "If they're such badasses why hasn't the FBI or the cops or whoever swooped down and carted them away?"
Kevin just looked at me, his expression suggesting I was being naive. For that matter, I probably was. "There's evidence," he said. "There's strategy. And I'm not talking about this anymore. I've already said more than is prudent, but you're important to me, Angie."
"What is this about, really? You don't like that I have male friends? That I was talking to Evan?"
"Talking to him? You cried on his shoulder, Angie."
I tried to protest that Evan was just a friend, but the words felt bitter on my tongue, and I couldn't seem to get them out.
Kevin took a step closer, closing the distance between us, and for the first time I realized that despite his lanky physique, there was an innate power to Kevin. "And no, I didn't like it. I don't like the way he looks at you, either. I don't trust him. And I don't want you getting mixed up with him or his friends. And honestly, Angie, I don't think your uncle would like it, either."
His last words ripped a sharp breath from me. He was right, of course. Jahn didn't want me to be with Evan. Was this why? Was Evan--were all three of the guys--dangerous? Were they really criminals?
Holy shit, the possibility that the allegations five years ago had been true had never even occurred to me. And assuming it was true, had Jahn known? Had he simply discounted the possibility that men he loved like sons ran a criminal enterprise?
Or had my uncle, in some small way, admired the ingenuity that must go along with staying one step ahead of the law? Had he been just a little bit jealous of the rush those three must have experienced every time they crossed a line and got away with it?
Dangerous, yes. Edgy, absolutely.
But pretty damned exhilarating, too.
I shivered, and saw that Kevin was looking at me with a kind of fierce protectiveness. "I know," he said. "Those guys are scary. Stay away from them. From all of them."
I nodded mutely, but only because I knew I had to.
My shiver wasn't from fear, but from excitement. From the possibility of finding that rush that I craved embodied in a man I wanted in my bed. A man that I already knew fired my senses.
I didn't know what that said about me and, honestly, I wasn't inclined to dive into a pool of introspection. After all, the bottom line remained the same. I wanted Evan Black. Wanted his tou
ch, his kiss. I wanted to be swallowed up whole, swept away.
Hell, I wanted to fly.
It would never happen, though. Maybe I didn't know all of Evan's secrets, but I knew damn well that he was loyal. He'd made a promise to Uncle Jahn, and nothing could make him break it. I may not understand what kind of game he'd been playing with me on the balcony, but I was absolutely certain that it wouldn't end with me in Evan Black's bed.
And as much as I hated to admit it, that was probably a good thing. I might crave the thrill, but I knew better than anyone that my wild urges had teeth--and I'd been bitten too many times already.
five
"Wait," I said, as Kevin started to climb out of his Prius. "Let's not go up just yet." We were in the parking garage of Kevin's condo, just a few blocks from Michigan Avenue. As parking garages go, it wasn't bad, but neither was it a particularly comfortable or pleasant destination, which is probably why Kevin looked at me so curiously.
"Are you okay?" He reached over to take my hand. "It's been one hell of a day."
"It has," I said. "Please, can't we go out?"
"Out?"
"A drive, maybe." Although honestly, if we were just going to drive I wanted a convertible and some serious speed. "Or the Ledge. Is it open this late?" Despite the crowds, the Ledge at Skydeck was my favorite destination in the city. Even though I knew it was as safe as houses, I still got a rush from standing 103 stories above the city on the clear platform, my mind unable to comprehend how it could be that I wasn't falling.
Kevin's expression reflected both concern and bafflement. "Honey, are you okay?"
"No," I said plaintively. "I haven't been okay for days." I'd been pulling it in. Playing the part I was supposed to play because I was the grieving niece. The senator's daughter. The face of my family in Chicago. I'd made statements to the press twice--albeit coached by my immediate boss who ran Jahn's PR department--and I'd made it a point to accompany his secretary through the halls of HJH&A for no reason other than to give the employees a sense of continuity. An exercise which was wholly ridiculous since I couldn't have run Howard Jahn Holdings & Acquisitions if my life depended on it.
Still, I'd played a role and I'd played it well. But now I just needed to breathe.
"Just tell me what you need," he said.
"I'm trying to tell you." I could hear the frustration in my voice and tried to rein it in. I reminded myself that Kevin didn't know me--despite having slept together twice and having my father's seal of approval. He didn't know how hard I worked to be the girl that I was. Didn't know how I always kept a tight check on myself. How could he, when I'd never told him?
