“Seriously?” Rita walked out from the back where she’d been doing prep. “What is it this time?” Her tone was light, but Payton could hear the concern behind it.
“I need a huge bottle of whiskey. And the handgun.”
“Oh, I know what that’s all about.” Rita handed her a bottle of Bud. “What did he do?”
“Just what I need,” Payton muttered, and chugged half her beer. “Another fucking psychic.” She handed Rita a five-dollar bill.
“Put your cash away.” Rita handed her a shot of whiskey and another beer. “When you’re as old as I am, darlin’, you know that look by heart.”
“Yeah, well, I’m still new at this.” Payton frowned into her beer. “God, I was such an idiot.”
Rita sighed. “Love will do that to you.”
Love? What?
“I’m not in love with him.”
Rita topped up her shot glass, eyebrows raised. “Like I said, I know love.”
Payton slammed her second shot and held her glass out. “It’s not love. I just care about . . . I don’t know! He made me feel safe.”
Rita grabbed the bottle of whiskey, popped the top off another beer, and then she walked around and sat next to Payton at the bar.
“Not planning on opening anytime soon, then?”
Rita waved her hand dismissively. “Fuck ’em. This is more important.”
“He’s just another asshole, Rita. I should stop being surprised.”
Rita took a long drink from her beer and then took a shot herself before answering. “I’m gonna be honest here, Payton. It’s something more than that.”
“You’re telling me. He went behind my back and—”
“Not with him,” Rita interjected. “With you.”
“What?”
“I know you’ve been hurt, and I know you were attacked. But even before you told me all that, I knew there was something different about you.”
“Yeah, you could say that.” Payton’s voice went dark.
“You’ve seen things. And I don’t mean your gardenvariety abusive parent or horny babysitter. I mean you’ve really seen things.” Rita took another sip of beer. “That changes you, you know. Makes you different. Sometimes it can be hard to believe that someone’s trying to help you. It’s hard to trust anyone. You’re struggling to function, much less be able to let love in.”
The tall man kicking her ribs, a flash of blonde and then sharp pain.
“I was kidnapped,” Payton whispered. “And then I woke up to a girl telling me all sorts of fuckedup things.”
Rita laid a hand over Payton’s arm and squeezed before pouring her another shot.
“Like what?”
“Like she’d seen me in a premonition, and that I had to go with her or I would die.”
“Jesus.”
“I moved here to get away, but they followed me. I don’t know how, but they’ve been stalking me.” Payton stared down into her beer. It suddenly seemed like too much effort to pick it up.
“That’s some shit. Have they ever been in here? Is that what freaked you out the other night?”
“No, but I’d seen them earlier that day.”
Rita nodded. “So you were scared.”
“Damn right. And fucking mad.”
“So what’s that got to do with your cutie pie? ’Cause Girl, you gotta know the Good Lord did right with that one.”
Payton scowled. She could do without thinking of how hot Cole was. An image flashed unbidden into her head of Cole shirtless and sweaty after class.
Or shirtless, sweaty, and naked in your apartment.
She groaned out loud and took another swig of her beer. She so did not need to be turned on right now, fuck you very much.
“That’s the fucking problem. I didn’t tell him any of this; I couldn’t. Then today he comes over to my place at the ass crack of dawn and tells me he’s known for days! That they approached him to try to convince me to meet with them!”
“Oh. Well, what’d he do about that?”
Payton nearly dropped her beer in shock, catching it just as it clicked against the edge of the bar. She turned to Rita, her eyes wide.
“He came to my house and told me that he knew what I’d been hiding, and that I should go with him to meet them!”
“So you don’t want him involved?” Rita took a drink. “I’m just trying to get a handle on what your issue is.”
“Those people are my problem, it’s got nothing to fucking do with him! And he took their side!”
Another sip. “Hmmm.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“So you got to know each other, shared things, maybe even fell in love a little bit.”
“But—”
“Don’t give me that. You said it yourself: he made you feel safe.”
The peeling label of Payton’s beer was suddenly the most interesting thing she’d seen all day.
“So he’s told you the things in his past that make him the way he is, and you stuck with him.”
“Of course. That wasn’t his fault.”
“And you don’t do the same. You don’t share with him, not all of it. But he doesn’t push you, just accepts you as you are, too. And so then you get freaked out, go off the reservation a little, and he sees you, understands what you need.”
Payton huffed. “Maybe.”
“So he shows up here, just to be with you. Even puts up with my interrogation . . . don’t give me that look, Girl. Like I’d let my best bartender go off with just anyone without checking him out first!”
Rita leaned over and bumped shoulders with her and Payton smiled. Okay, so maybe there was one person in San Diego still on her side.
“But I wanted to keep things under control, safe.”
“To keep yourself safe from who? Them? Or maybe from him, from love.”
“That’s not it!”
“Then why didn’t you tell him your secret straight up, if you weren’t afraid he was gonna reject you? What were you truly afraid of?”
“But he told me I should go meet them. . . .”
“With him, you said. Tell me, a meeting with these people, freaks or not, is inevitable, yes? They’d already tracked you down?”
“Yeah.”
“Then just maybe he offered to go with you not because he was trying to hurt you, but because he wanted to continue keeping you safe for just a little bit longer?”
No. Shit. That couldn’t . . . but maybe?
“This sucks so fucking much.” Payton sculled the last mouthful of her beer.
“He’s a cop, right?” Payton nodded. “So a born protector. He’s gonna want to be there for you regardless of what you think you need.”
“But I don’t want him getting involved.” Payton leaned over the bar and grabbed another beer. “I can handle myself. I don’t want to worry about him, too.”
“You’re in a shit situation, Payton. It’s scary as fuck, I know, but it’s not weak to ask for help.”
“No, but—”
“Even if you don’t think you need it. I got myself out of mine, but I had to kill a man to do it. And yet I would have turned down many offers of help before it came to that.” Rita turned and looked at Payton dead on. “Fact of the matter is, I did. Don’t make my mistake, Payton. Let the man help you.”
“But what if they really are the psychos that kidnapped me?”
“This is what gets me.” Rita put her beer down on the counter. “You’re not stupid and I bet you’re pretty good at disappearing. How could they possibly have found you? Now, I’m no wacko who believes in aliens and all that shit. I never even believed in Santa when I was a kid, but those people found you.” Rita paused, letting her meaning sink in. “They knew where you were, and they went in and got you when you were in trouble. They didn’t hurt you that morning, from what you’ve said.”
“No.” Her voice was quiet. “They cut me loose. But then they ran from the police. Why?”
“I’ve been wa
tching you, Payton. You just stop sometimes. You close your eyes and it’s like you’re not even there. I mean, you were staring at me for ten minutes the other day, and when I told you my story, you weren’t surprised one bit.”
“So?”
“So, you’ve been lying to me, too, and I really don’t blame you, but if there’s something to this psychic shit—and really, we both know that there is—then you better get into contact with those women.”
Payton let her beer drop back on the counter. “It’s fucked, Rita. Totally fucked. I don’t know who the hell I should believe.”
“Yeah, this is probably one of the most fuckedup things I’ve ever heard, and you know I’ve seen some shit. Go talk to them, Payton. Take Cole, and the gun, but for God’s sake don’t use it until you’re at least in the door and have heard what they have to say.”
“But they were there, they ran!”
“And you did what? Stuck around and told the police the whole story?”
Well, fuck.
Payton rested her head on the bar and closed her eyes. Maybe when she opened her eyes again, everyone would have just gone away. As the world drifted away, she felt a soft pat from Rita on her head.
“I’ll just call you cab.”
21
Cole let his thoughts drift aimlessly as he walked along the beach. He’d seen Payton go inside the bar and so she was safe for now. The bar wouldn’t open for awhile yet and Rita’s secret weapons stash wasn’t as big a secret as she thought it was. A smile played on his lips. Yeah, Rita would look after his girl.
He kicked his shoes off and tied the laces together, swung them over his shoulder, and strode to the water’s edge. The waves lapped over his feet and washed away some of his lingering anxiety. God, he needed that. Needed anything that would stop him from running into the bar and begging Payton to listen to him, to come with him.
He’d been completely drained last night after seeing everything she’d been through. It slammed into his brain with enough force he almost felt the physical blows Payton relived in her mind. To go through that and still be who she was . . . Cole respected her more than anyone he’d ever met for being able to do that. She was strong, capable, and intelligent—which is why it was driving him absolutely crazy that she refused to even discuss what the hell was going on. Any chance of a relationship between them was probably completely screwed, but he still wasn’t going to just walk away and let her put herself in danger. Digging his toes into the damp sand, he pulled out his cell and tapped out Reece’s number.
He answered on the second ring, “Cole?”
“Yeah.”
“You talk to her?”
“Yes.” Reece was quiet on the other end. “It didn’t exactly go as I’d hoped.”
“She’s still convinced we’re the bad guys?”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
Reece sighed. “Do you know why?”
“I don’t know for sure. She said at first that it was because she thought the others were crazy because of the psychic crap.”
“But now you think different?”
“She’s always told me about a blonde woman who was there when she woke up, I think that was Keila? Last night I saw—uh, she told me that a blonde woman had been there the entire time, that she’d hurt her.” He scrubbed a hand over her face. “God, what she went through. Reece, you have no idea how bad it was. If that was Keila, then Payton doesn’t have to do anything. I’ll beat her to it.”
Reece’s voice dropped. “There’s absolutely no way that’s remotely true. But I think I know what’s going on. Keila and her boyfriend, before they knew Payton was there, they were checking out the place where Meathead—”
“Who the fuck is that?”
A chuckle came down the phone line. “Sorry, that’s Jason’s nickname for the asshole who hurt Keila, and who we think kidnapped Payton as well. He has quite a way with words. Meathead was the head henchman, so to speak, and about seven feet tall.”
“Was?”
“Jason killed him. Payton was there.”
“Jesus.”
“Meathead worked for a woman. She was tall . . . and blonde.”
“And, I assume, not dead?”
“No. She left the girls with Meathead. After dragging a half-unconscious Payton into the room and telling Keila if she didn’t give up the location of the others, the giant asshole would kill Payton right in front of her.”
Goddamn it! Shit! Fuck them, no, fuck everybody! There weren’t enough curse words in existence for his liking right then. Cole forced himself to relax his voice before answering. “Well, that would explain a few things.”
“So you and Payton, you’re . . . uh . . . together?”
Cole sighed, feeling the water still rushing over his feet. Fuck lot of good it was doing. “It’s new. There’s a spark, but I’m not exactly her favorite person at the moment.”
“And you think she’ll get over it?”
“No.” Cole laughed darkly. “She thinks I betrayed her.”
“You know as well as I that we need to act fast on this, before they find her again. What can I do to help?”
He shrugged. “Nothing. That’s the whole point. I think she needs space—and time, as much as she probably doesn’t have any. Until she admits to herself what really happened in that room—that her life was nearly traded for information—she’s not going to be able to move on. Not really.”
“Jesus. Okay, Man, if that’s how you need to play it, then I’ll wait, for now. Do what’s best for Payton. Keep her safe and keep in touch.” Reece hung up the phone.
Fucking hell! He’d royally screwed up everything. All he’d been doing was trying to keep Payton safe, but if he didn’t make things right, she was going to keep pushing him away and end up right back where she started, scared and alone. There was no way he was letting that happen.
He trudged through the thick sand, sitting briefly to wipe off his feet and put his shoes back on when he reached the pavement. Instead of going to her and admitting what he knew, Cole had chosen sides. She’d been fighting the memories from the moment she’d run out the door of the house in Chicago containing her worst nightmare and she hadn’t stopped running yet. She’d trusted him. He was the first person she’d told any part of her story to, and then she’d been the first woman he’d taken to bed in a damn long time. She deserved his respect, and to play this out how she wanted. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to be right there by her side. No, Cole wasn’t going to leave her to face anyone or anything on her own. But from here on, she was going to be in charge. If she was ever going to get over what had happened to her and reclaim her life, then she’d need control, and he owed her that much.
All he could do was clean himself up, find her, and apologize. Then hope like hell she forgave him and go from there. Walking up the sidewalk, he glanced briefly through a front window at the bar to make sure Payton was still inside, and then he started the walk back to his apartment. He was still in yesterday’s clothes after waiting outside her apartment all night. If he was going to do this right, he needed to have a clear head and preferably clothes that didn’t smell like he’d spent the night asleep on the beach. He walked quickly to his apartment, but rounding the corner, he saw a glimmer of light reflected off something on the pavement outside his apartment block. He sped up to a jog and arrived at his front driveway, where he found glass sprinkled all over the concrete and front lawn. The windows to his apartment were gone—each pane smashed and apparently now decorating the sidewalk.
Just what he needed. Because his day was just going so well before this.
After pushing open the front door, he made his way swiftly to his apartment door. His shoes crunched on the carpet. A small trail of soil from a potted plant was spilled out into the hall. Cole hadn’t carried a weapon with him 24/7 after being taken off active duty and he was seriously regretting that now. He nudged his front door and it creaked open at his touch.
Not locked.
/>
His curtain rod by the front window was bent and half pulled out, indicating the point of entry, and his apartment was completely trashed. Every cupboard he could see from his vantage point by the front door had been opened, their contents spilled out onto the floor.
Keep calm. Quiet. They might still be here.
Fumbling for his cell, Cole rang through for backup and then, taking a deep breath, pushed the front door open wider. There was no way he was sitting out in the hall waiting for his former colleagues to come rescue him. His personal weapon was in its box in the bedroom, but he grabbed a baseball bat left sitting at his front door with other clutter from his recent junk purge. He cleared the living room, the kitchen, and the bathroom, working systematically through the apartment. The entire place was empty.
Except for the bedroom.
That’s where the gun was, but as much as he would breathe more easily with his hands wrapped around the grip, he knew better than to rush into the room. He’d made that mistake once before and ended up in the basement in God-only-knew-where in Mexico. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again.
A small mirror hung on the wall near the front door. A decorative piece of crap, only about six inches wide, but it would do. He made his way back to the front door, keeping his footfalls quiet, and snatched it up. Creaking open the bedroom door as narrowly as possible, he held the mirror up, angling it around to scope the room. Nothing. He couldn’t see anyone, just his stuff tossed all over the floor here too. He had to go in and get his weapon.
Letting out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding, Cole pushed the bedroom door open and headed toward his closet. He bent down and pulled out the small box when a strong arm banded around his chest. Shit! Where had the fucker been hiding? Cole struggled and tried to shift his weight sideways, but an equally strong hand wrapped around his neck and held something against his face. He tried to resist, to hold his breath, but black spots danced through his vision. He lifted his arm to strike, but before he could gather the strength, the black spots swarmed in front of his eyes and the world disappeared.
Payton (Dreamcatchers Romantic Suspense Series Book 3) Page 15
