by Kat Martin
As far as he was concerned, he couldn’t get the woman to the altar fast enough.
A lot had happened in the weeks since their marriage; first and foremost, Kowalski and Bandini were both in jail. Besides the kidnapping charges both men faced, turned out Kowalski was wanted for armed robbery in Los Angeles, and though Bandini had accepted a plea bargain, he wasn’t getting out of prison anytime soon.
Ian smiled. Meri was working as his bookkeeper/receptionist /secretary, and generally running his office, which was great. She was enjoying the job and she was good at it. She could set her own hours so she had plenty of time to be with Lily.
Plenty of time to be with him. He grinned to think of the hours they’d been spending in bed, how many times he’d made her late for work in the mornings, how she would blush when he teased her about it.
He had already filed to adopt Lily, and though it wasn’t official, he was certain the paperwork would go through fairly quickly. Lily already called him Daddy. Daniel had insisted she call him Grandpa, which, every time she said it, made him smile.
Daniel and Heddy were an item. Heddy had insisted Daniel take down the fences between their properties so the horses, including the new ones his dad had purchased, could roam free.
As a wedding gift, she had given Sunny to Ian and Meri. Though the stallion would be staying at his dad’s place, it was one of the best gifts he’d ever received.
Everything was going smoothly. And though Ian loved his wife and being married, he was glad to be working. He ran a private security firm. In a city the size of Seattle, he had plenty of business, and he liked the people he worked with, particularly liked working with some of his family.
Two of his best PIs were his cousins. Ethan and Luke Brodie were men he could count on. Down the road, he was thinking he might even open another office.
For the moment, however, he was content.
Ian checked his watch. It was six o’clock. Meri had left at five to pick up Lily. As Ian headed for the door, he smiled. By the time he got home, Meri would be starting supper. Lily would be watching for his car to drive up.
He was heading home to his family.
Ian could hardly wait.
SHAKEN
REBECCA ZANETTI
Chapter One
Tough love had never been her thing.
Not in her wheelhouse. No matter how many shrinks, friends, or boyfriends had told Michelle Pamela Peach to write off her mother, she just couldn’t do it. Refused to do it. Which was why she found herself at her small kitchen table, across from her mother, staring at the screen on her computer tablet. “I only have two grand, Jayleen.” She’d stopped calling her mother “mom” after she’d been kicked to her third foster family at the age of nine. They were both okay with that fact.
“You must have more money than that.” Jayleen leaned forward, her wiry frame engulfed by the tight tank-top and Daisy Duke shorts that were two decades too young for her. “You’re a famous, um, graphic novelist. Right?”
“No.” Michelle snorted, her gaze moving to the adjacent living room, where she’d hung a poster of the cover of her first comic book. “I’m a struggling comic book creator. One who works as a waitress to pay the bills.” Maybe her superheroes would someday pay out, or maybe not. Either way, she drew and wrote for herself and waited tables to be sure she had a home. One with bright colors, clean surfaces, and plenty of food. The necessities. “I can give you half of my savings.”
“No.” Jayleen’s bloodshot blue eyes widened, and her already pale face turned an even lighter shade. The sores along her neck, from her latest bout with meth, had finally healed, and she’d stopped twitching. Being clean for more than a month was a good sign. “I owe them money. A lot of it. If I could just get free of them, I’d be okay.”
Michelle’s heart kicked, but she swept her hand out at the small apartment. “Look around. I have secondhand furniture and live in a small place in the center of Portland. I use public transportation, and when I want highlights, I buy a box at the dollar store. But I’ll give you all my savings.” She mentally calculated how long it would take her to build up a nest egg again and then stopped counting. Her tips weren’t that great. “Will that help?”
“That’s not enough.” Jayleen’s gaze raked her. “You’re obviously eating well.”
Ouch. Whatever. Michelle had always been full figured, and that was fine with her. “Not all of us end up on a meth diet,” she returned quietly.
“Touché, Michelle. Or Chelle. Or Pam. What are you going by these days?” Jayleen’s bony shoulders dropped.
Michelle sighed. One of the benefits of moving from foster home to foster home, between bouts of living with her mother, was that she’d been able to reinvent herself each time. She’d gone by many variations of her names. “Michelle. I’ve used my real name for the last decade. At least.” It shouldn’t hurt that her mother didn’t know that fact. It really shouldn’t. So why did it?
“Okay. Michelle.” Jayleen sucked in air, her expression brightening. “What about credit cards? You have good credit, I’m sure. You can get a loan on those.”
Michelle’s stomach ached. The woman didn’t care if she put her daughter in debt for life. “Do you really owe people money?” Or did she just want cash for more drugs? Could go either way.
“Yes.” Jayleen pounded a fist on the polished wooden table. “They’ll kill me. For real this time.”
Michelle shut her laptop and scrubbed her hands down her face. “How much do you owe?” She’d avoided the question long enough.
“Twenty-five thousand,” Jayleen whispered.
Michelle’s head shot up. “Seriously?” There was no way she could get that kind of money. “Why would they give you that much without security?”
Jayleen blanched. “Well . . .”
Oh, crap. “You were dealing.” Nausea rolled in Michelle’s stomach. “You had a stash and you stole it.”
“It’s not my fault,” Jayleen said. “I’m an addict.”
How Michelle hated those words. She didn’t have a response, didn’t even have a chance to speak.
The front door burst open, and two men rushed inside. The bigger guy, a six-foot-six bald man who looked like he’d just escaped from Rikers, smoothly shut the door.
Michelle froze in place.
Jayleen cried out and pushed back from the table so fast, her chair tipped over. She landed with a loud thump and rolled over, crab walking backwards until she hit the side of the refrigerator. Terror filled her eyes, and she made a small whimpering sound, curling her legs up to her chest.
The shorter guy smiled, his blue eyes gleaming. With his dark hair and lashes, he had probably been good-looking before the obvious ravages of alcohol and drug abuse had slackened his features and hollowed his cheeks. “Hello, Michelle. Remember me?”
She blinked. Shock grabbed her, and she held herself perfectly still to keep from shuddering. “Joey Bandini. I didn’t recognize you.” He had been very handsome years ago, but now he didn’t even look like the same man who’d charmed her friend Meri for a night, way back when, and impregnated her. “What do you want?”
“Well, now.” He moved past the soft beige sofa with its bright yellow pillows, toward her. “You’re even prettier than I remember. I should’ve gone home with you instead of that bitch.”
Oh, this wasn’t good. She cut a look to her mother, who was still cowering against the loudly humming fridge. A chill ticked down her spine, but she kept her expression calm and her body still. “That’s a kind thing to say, but I’m wondering why you kicked down my door. You could’ve knocked.” How was she going to get them out of her place? “I don’t have any cash, Joey.” Too many people wanted money for drugs from her. This was crazy.
“Oh, sweet thing, I don’t want money from you.” He reached the other side of the table and leaned toward her, his breath smelling like rotgut whiskey. “I want to know where that lying Meri is. Tell me, and we’ll be gone.”
&n
bsp; Meri? The room spun and then settled. “Not a chance,” Michelle snapped, anger rising almost to the level of the fear thundering through her.
Jayleen finally spoke. “Wh-who are you?”
“Oh.” His smile might’ve been charming at one time. “I’m Joey Bandini, an old friend of Michelle’s.”
“I haven’t seen you in years,” Michelle muttered before she could stop herself. Bandini had had a one-night stand with one of the few friends Michelle had kept in the world, Meriwether Jones. They’d had a beautiful little girl, and Meri had dumped his ass, quite rightly. “I have no clue where Meri or Lily are, Joey.” It was the truth. Well, kind of.
“They’re on the way here, and we both know that. She always wanted to move to Portland, and I heard you two met up again at the funeral last month.” Joey’s face lost its remaining hint of charm. “She has my money, and I want it.”
Why did all of these fools look for the easy way to live? Michelle flattened her hands on the laptop. One of the nicest foster mothers of all time, Mrs. Vandermeer, had died and left a small amount to Meri. Her friend needed it for little Lily, and Michelle had been happy for her, although so sad at the passing of Mrs. Vandermeer. “I talked to Meri right after the funeral, and there was only eight grand. Most of it is gone.”
“Bullshit,” Joey responded. “That old lady was loaded.”
Jayleen sat up. “Loaded?”
Heat flushed down Michelle’s throat. “No. She was not loaded, for Pete’s sake. She was a nice lady with a small, very small, amount of money. Meri isn’t hiding cash from you.” She had to get these apes out of her apartment. She’d scream, but both of her neighbors worked nights. How loud could she be?
Joey’s eyes turned beadier. “I bet you’re pissed the old broad didn’t leave you any money. Right?”
Michelle’s eyebrows shot up. “No. Not at all.” It was the truth; she hadn’t even considered the idea. “I was only with Mrs. Vandermeer for a few months.” Then her mother had gotten clean—briefly—and carted her across the country, where she’d finally landed with Miss A in Kentucky for a wonderful three years until she’d turned eighteen. “Meri and I kept in touch as pen pals. That’s all.”
“She’s coming here, so stop lying to me.” Joey tilted his head toward Jayleen. “I’ll give you a grand if you tell me where Meri is.”
Jayleen stopped whimpering, and her gaze narrowed. “I don’t know, but Michelle will tell you. It’s for a grand, Michelle. Come on.”
“I don’t know,” Michelle blurted out. She had to get hold of Meri somehow and tell her to avoid Portland.
“Bull.” Joey leaned over the table and slapped Michelle across the face so quickly she didn’t have time to duck.
Pain ripped through her cheekbone, and her muscles bunched to leap across the table at him. He was several inches taller and definitely heavier than Michelle, but she’d rather fight than cower. She gripped the edge of the table for balance.
“I wouldn’t,” the bald guy by the door said, licking his lips.
She couldn’t take them both, and Jayleen was useless. Joey moved to hit her again, and this time she had a chance to duck.
He snarled. “Kowalski? Grab the old lady.”
The bald guy pushed off the door and moved toward Jayleen.
She cried out and stumbled to her feet, pressing her hands out as if she could keep him away from her. “Please, Michelle. Help me.”
Oh, this was so bad. Michelle stood. “I really don’t know where Meri is, but I can give you her phone number.” She’d be sure to call Meri first and tell her to ditch the phone and head away from Portland. “It’s all I have, Joey.”
He held up a hand to halt his henchman. “Dooby Brown is back in Seattle, and I can have that geek trace the phone number,” he murmured to the bald guy.
Jayleen gasped. “Dooby Brown?”
Joey straightened. “You know that dorky computer nerd?”
Jayleen frowned, her face going slack in an innocent expression that had never fooled Michelle. “Um, the tweaker from Seattle who sometimes distributes Kicker for the Third Street Boys?”
Joey’s left eye twitched and his hands started to shake just enough to show he was in withdrawal. “No. Different guy, who doesn’t deal Oxy. He’s just a small-time hacker several of us use once in a while. Shut up, now.” He glared. “Number?”
Michelle rattled off the phone number. The second Joey left, she’d call Meri. It was a decent plan. She really didn’t have any other option.
“Thanks.” Joey looked around and his gaze dropped to the tablet. Again, with those surprisingly fast reflexes, he whipped it off the table. “I’ll take this.”
“No.” Panic grabbed Michelle, and she jumped around the table, reaching for the tablet with both hands. She’d put all her money into the device. Her latest comic was on it, and she hadn’t had time to back it up yet. More importantly, her work wasn’t all that was on there. “Not a chance.”
Jayleen stayed against the fridge, watching the tug of war, while the Neanderthal near the door chuckled.
Joey finally twisted his body, wrenching the tablet free and sending Michelle crashing into the table. Her temple impacted the edge, and she went down, stars flashing across her eyes. Joey laughed. “Kowalski? Let’s go find my money, and then maybe we’ll come back here for a visit. I’ve always liked a chick with spunk.”
Michelle gulped down bile and tried to focus, her ears buzzing and her butt on the ground. She grabbed a chair leg for balance to keep from falling over. “I have friends in the Homeland Defense Department, dickhead. I’m making that call next.”
Joey snorted. “Right.” He turned and headed past the couch for the door. “I’ll be in touch.”
Kowalski opened the damaged door, gave her a gap-toothed smile, and then followed Joey out.
Jayleen looked over. “You okay?”
“No.” Michelle flattened her hands on the chair seat and forced herself to her feet. It took several minutes of deep breathing before she could be sure she wouldn’t fall again. Did she have a concussion? The room swirled around, but she couldn’t wait any longer. She drew out her phone from her back pocket and dialed Meri, quickly telling her old friend to stay away from Portland. That loser Joey had already called Meri, but her friend assured Michelle she was safely away from Oregon.
Good.
Michelle hung up.
“Well.” Jayleen edged toward the door. “I guess I’ll be going.” Her gaze had an odd gleam in it.
“Where?” Michelle tried to concentrate.
Jayleen smiled. “I know where to get the money I need. Don’t you worry.” She skipped out faster than Joey had.
Disaster. Now her mother was going off to do what? Michelle tried to concentrate, but the world started spinning again. She dialed another number to leave a message for the man who was the closest thing to a brother she’d ever had. “Raider? I think I’m in trouble. Call me.” The phone fell from her hand as she dropped to the floor and let darkness take her.
At some point, she woke up, feeling somewhat better. So she crawled to the sofa and levered herself up to sleep the rest of the night away.
The screech of tires outside awoke her around dawn. Groggily, she sat up. Heavy footsteps pounded up the stairs outside. There was no way Raider had made it from DC that quickly, was there? The door flew open once again.
Nope. Wasn’t Raider, but another man from her past.
The one she’d tried to forget every day. “Well, crap,” she muttered as he overwhelmed the doorway. This was all she needed.
Chapter Two
Michelle shook her head and then winced as pain forced her to blink. Ah. Blinking. That would work. She did so several times, but the muscled body in front of her didn’t disappear. It had been worth a try.
“You alone?” Evan Boldon, gun out, edged toward the bedroom, his gaze sweeping the area.
“Yes.” She pushed her curly hair away from her face, knowing she looked a mess.
He finished scouting the entire apartment before replacing the gun at the back of his waist. When he returned, he seemed bigger than ever. He stood over six feet tall, and his chest had always been broad, but he’d filled out in the years they’d been apart. Had gone from a fit boy to a tightly muscled man. His thick black hair curled over his ears, and those greenish-blue eyes had darkened a few shades, holding a seriousness they’d lacked as a kid. “You okay?” His voice was even deeper than before.
“I’m fine.” Except that Evan Boldon was now in her apartment. It was a lot easier trying to forget him when he wasn’t right in front of her. “I take it Raider called you?” Oh, she was going to kick his butt next time she saw her pseudo big brother. They’d all spent time at Miss A’s foster home, and those ties stuck for life, so she really shouldn’t be surprised.
“Yeah.” Evan wore jeans and a faded green T-shirt . . . and cowboy boots. That was new. “Raider is undercover, but he’ll be here as soon as possible.”
“That’s okay. I was kind of in a panic when I called him.” She tugged her now wrinkled T-shirt into place over her leggings. Why couldn’t she get her head to clear?
Evan moved closer, sitting on the sofa. His scent hit her first with the familiarity of first love. Cedar and a wonderful mint. Every time she was in the woods or even near somebody chewing gum, her memories flashed to him. It wasn’t fair. He leaned closer, his gaze focusing and then hardening. “What happened to your head?” He reached out and smoothed hair away from her aching temple.
She swallowed, her body no longer in pain. Desire flushed through her, heating every nerve, catching her off guard. From day one, even when they were only teenagers, she’d reacted like this to him. “I’m fine,” she coughed out.
His chin lifted while his eyelids half closed, giving him the look of a predator much more dangerous than he’d been before. “Did somebody hit you?”
