I had no idea what she was even talking about because I was struck again with the image of one those little dogs. Yap, yap, yap. The chuckled escaped before I could stop it.
“I’m sorry, but is this funny to you?” she asked, crossing her arms under her breasts and giving me a spectacular view of her cleavage. When the hell did that happen? “My grieving family is…what, some kind of joke?”
“Okay, that’s enough,” I said with authority. I towered over her, wondering if she’d back down.
She didn’t.
“Don’t tell me when it’s enough. You’re in my house now, and you don’t get to tell me what to do.”
“Geez, don’t you ever get tired of arguing? All I did was come here to say hello and see how your folks are doing. I haven’t seen them since the funeral.”
Harper averted her gaze at the word. “It was probably for the best. I’m sure on some level you’re a reminder of—”
“The fact that I’m still here and Gavin isn’t? Yeah, I got that. But not from them. From you.”
She at least had the grace to look bashful. “Okay, that was wrong for me to say that day.”
“You think?”
“Cut me some slack, Levi. I’d just lost my brother, and I wasn’t handling it well. It’s just been really crazy for the last couple of months. There’s Gavin and stuff with my job and no one wanting to talk to me and my tires were slashed, and then just yesterday there was this letter—”
“What letter?” It wasn’t often, if ever, that I saw Harper working herself into a panic, but she clearly was right now. “What letter, Harper?”
“You know that we didn’t get to bury Gavin right away, right? Well, after we got all of the ‘official’ letters from the government, I felt that something wasn’t right, like they weren’t telling us everything. So I wrote a couple of articles about it in the paper, and I guess someone didn’t like it. They sent me a nasty letter yesterday.”
The curse escaped louder than I intended, and I almost cringed at the possibility of Darlene Murphy coming in and reprimanding me. “And you didn’t think to mention this to me, even getting it after your tires were slashed?”
“Shh! Keep it down! I didn’t tell my parents about that.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because I didn’t want to worry them, that’s why. They’re dealing with enough right now without me adding to it.”
“Then maybe you should let go of this little campaign for the truth that you’ve got going on. You’re not going to get anywhere with it, Harper. You need to let it go before you push the wrong person.”
She was silent for a long moment, and I was almost certain that I had her convinced.
“I’m not letting it go. This whole things seems suspicious and maybe…”
Uh-oh. I might not have known Harper very well, but even I knew when I was about to be hit with something I wasn’t going to like. “Maybe, what?”
“You were there, Levi. Tell me what happened.”
That was so not going to happen. “You have all of the documents that could be publically released. It’s not open for discussion.” With a final swig of coffee, I put the mug down and turned to go back to the kitchen to talk to the Murphys.
“I never figured you for a coward, Levi.”
That stopped me. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. Just tell me what you know.”
“And then you’ll drop your campaign? Just like that?” Her hesitation gave me my answer. “Sorry, princess, but I’ve got nothing to add that good old Uncle Sam hasn’t told you.”
Except my role in your brother’s death.
She stepped in close, and that was when it happened. The smell of her herbal shampoo and the heat radiating off her little body had my whole libido standing at attention and calling out that she wasn’t like a sister. This was a woman. A pissed off woman, but a woman nonetheless. And she was beautiful. And sexy.
And mad as hell.
“Then you leave me no choice. If you won’t tell me the truth, and no one in Washington will tell me the truth, then it’s up to me to find it. Campaign on.” Then she turned on her ridiculously high heels and walked away.
Shit. Now it looked like I had something to do with my spare time other than pacing. I had to keep an eye on Harper Murphy before she ticked off the wrong person. There were worse ways to spend my time, but I had a feeling I was going to be walking a thin line where she was concerned.
A line between watching over her for her own protection and watching her for my own pleasure.
How twisted was that?
Three
Harper
“What did you just say?” I demanded.
Randy Jenkins had been in my class at school almost every year as we were growing up, and he was now a local police officer. He blinked at my tone. “I already heard about the letter.”
I thrust the letter toward him. I’d gotten a little worried over the weekend about the combination of the letter and the slashed tires, so I figured it was better to be safe and report it. I certainly hadn’t expected to hear this. “This letter?”
He looked over the page briefly. “Yeah. That’s the one he mentioned. And I guess you also had some trouble with your tires? What we need you to—”
“How do you know about that?” The question was automatic, but it didn’t need to be asked. I knew exactly how Randy knew. “Levi? Are you telling me that Levi came here, on his own, without my knowledge or permission, and you let him fill out a report for something that has absolutely nothing to do with him?”
Randy blinked again. He’d always been a blinker, and evidently the years hadn’t changed this trait. “It wasn’t official. He didn’t fill out a report or anything. He came in for another reason and we got to talking, and he just mentioned that you’d been having some trouble and wanted us to keep our eyes open. What’s wrong with that?”
I was stewing, so angry I trembled with it, and I couldn’t trust myself to speak right away.
Taking my silence as agreement, Randy grinned. “See? Not a big deal, right? You must be worried too, since you’re coming in about it. Levi’s a good guy. He’s just looking out for you.”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Looking out for me.”
I felt like laying into Randy, since he happened to be present. It wasn’t his fault, though, and he wasn’t the target of my rage. So I filled out a report and turned in the letter and was told they’d do what they could and would give me a call with any results.
I understood that to mean that they’d do some superficial inquiries, but they didn’t think it was a big deal, and there wasn’t that much they could do anyway.
I didn’t think it was a big deal either, but I didn’t want to be foolish and ignore a real threat.
When Randy suggested that, since the letter-writer was angry because I’d been so vocal about my brother’s death and the military’s actions surrounding it, a smart thing might be for me to cool it, I just gave him a stony look.
He was exactly like Levi. Exactly like Gavin had been too. Wanting to pat me on the head and shut me up. Refusing to take me seriously.
It felt like I’d spent all my life trying to prove myself to other people, and I was getting really sick of it.
On my way out of the police station, I called Levi. When he didn’t pick up, I let his voice mail have it.
“Listen, Levi. I’m telling you for the last time to mind your own business. You don’t get to go to the police on my behalf. You don’t get to poke around in things that only concern me. You don’t get to try to control me or tell me what I can or can’t do. I’m an adult. I’m not your responsibility or your duty or your way to not be bored. We aren’t even friends. So take your overbearing, obnoxious meddling and shove it up your arrogant ass.”
I disconnected, feeling pleased with my choice of words and the satisfaction of having told him exactly what I thought.
As I headed home in my mom’s car (since mine was still
in the shop), I started to give the message a post-mortem, something I had a bad habit of. Maybe I should have waited until I wasn’t as angry, so he wouldn’t know he’d gotten to me the way he had. Maybe I should have just ignored him and proven he didn’t mean anything to me. Maybe I should have…
On and on it went, as I grabbed a quick bite, drove home, and then got a ride with a friend to the rec center for my kickboxing class.
I’d been going to kickboxing for over a year now, and I always enjoyed it, but today I found it more therapeutic than normal.
In a very hard workout, I vented my frustration and exasperation with one egotistical, interfering, and infuriating ex-Marine. I was exhausted afterwards, but felt much better. Like I might even be able to have a civil conversation with Levi if our paths happened to cross again, which hopefully wouldn’t happen.
On my way out of the building with Maria, the friend who’d given me a ride, I glanced down at my phone, on the off-chance that Levi had tried to call back.
I wasn’t sure what he would have said if he called. I couldn’t imagine him meekly saying he was sorry for his bad behavior.
I couldn’t imagine him being meek—in any circumstance, ever.
“Oh, my God, that guy is hot,” Maria murmured excitedly, grabbing my arm as we walked down the four steps from the front entrance of the rec center.
This wasn’t unusual behavior for Maria. She found guys hot all the time and was never loath to share her feelings with me.
I glanced over with only half-hearted interest and immediately stiffened when my eyes landed on a tall, well-built man with dark hair and worn jeans, who was listening to something on his phone and leaning against a car in the parking lot.
My car. The one I thought was still in the shop.
Levi. Naturally.
“Oh my God,” Maria said, her hand still gripping my arm. “He’s smiling at you. Do you know him?”
“Yes, I know him,” I gritted out through my teeth. He was indeed smiling, but it wasn’t a friendly, welcoming smile.
It was a superior smile of amusement, as if he was laughing at me.
I’d seen that look on his face before. I’d seen it for years and years, when we’d been growing up and he was hanging out with Gavin. My brother used to get annoyed when I pestered them, but Levi had always just laughed.
Nothing had changed. I might be an adult, a professional, and completely his equal, but he was still laughing at me.
I took a shaky breath and tried to control the wave of anger.
“Is that your car?” Maria asked.
“Yeah. He must have gotten it from the shop.”
“Ooh! Why didn’t you tell me there was a guy in your life?” Maria looked like she might jump up and down with excitement over news of potential romance for me.
“He’s not in—”
“No, don’t try to hide it. I can tell by the way he’s looking at you that he’s crazy about you. Plus, he got your car for you! You go on over, but you better call me first thing tomorrow and tell me all about him.”
I groaned and tried to object again, but she skittered off before I could. Rolling my eyes, I made my way over to Levi, who was still half-smiling with that superior amusement I hated.
“Did you just tell me to take my overbearing, obnoxious meddling and shove it up my arrogant ass?” he asked, lowering the phone from his ear.
For no reason—for absolutely no good reason—I felt the urge to snicker, partly at his expression and partly at the way he’d repeated my words back to me in that dry tone. Snickering would hardly be an appropriate response, though, so I gave him what I hoped was a cool look of disinterest. “You should check your messages more frequently. I left that over two hours ago.”
His smile broadened into a grin, making him so attractive that I lost my breath. Seriously. I literally lost my breath, gazing up at him and his warm expression and his gorgeous dark eyes.
He said, “If you found out I mentioned it to Randy, then you must have been at the police station too. So you do think there’s cause to worry?”
“I don’t really think there’s cause to worry. I just want to cover all the bases. But that’s my responsibility. Not yours.”
“Understood.” He was still smiling, and he didn’t look like he understood at all. “I got your car.”
“I see that. That’s another thing that was none of your business. How did they even let you take it? I haven’t paid yet.”
“I said you’d be coming by to pay sometime tomorrow. They gave you a really good deal. Rick is a buddy of mine.”
Snapping his head off was probably not an appropriate response to his getting me a good price on the new tires, but it was exactly what I wanted to do. I took a shaky breath and managed not to lash out.
I glanced around the parking lot for his truck and didn’t see it. “So you drove my car over here? How did you expect to get home?”
“I figured you could drop me off. I’m on the way.”
I smothered a groan and nodded toward the passenger seat. “Get in.”
He handed me the keys, and we got in the car. I had to admit it was nice to have my car back, although I would have preferred to enjoy it without Levi’s presence.
I managed to ask him, fairly politely, where he lived and then backed out of the parking place without saying anything rude.
We rode in silence for a few minutes. I don’t know what he was thinking, but I was trying very hard not to scream at him.
“How did you even know where I was?” I finally asked, starting up when a light turned green.
“I called your folks and they told me. So you do kickboxing?”
“Yes, I do kickboxing.”
“How long have you done that?”
“Over a year now.”
“Are you any good?”
I could hear the smile in his voice, and it made me mad. “I’m pretty good, for my level. What exactly are you laughing at?”
“I’m not laughing.” His eyes were wide with ostensible innocence when I turned to glare at him.
“You’re secretly laughing at me. You’ve always done that, and I’ve always hated it.”
“What’s wrong with you making me laugh?”
“Because you’re laughing at me, as if I’m a pet or a child. I’m neither of those things, and I really don’t appreciate you acting like I am.”
He sighed and said in a different voice. “I know you’re not a pet or a child.”
I turned my head again to check his expression, since he’d sounded so different. “So why do you feel compelled to control me?”
“I don’t want to control you. I just want you to be safe.”
“Keeping me safe is not your responsibility. I’m not your duty, Levi. I can take care of myself.” We’d reached his apartment building, and I pulled the car into a convenient parking space.
“With your kickboxing?”
“I meant by being an adult who can handle herself, but I might be better at kickboxing than you think.”
He was grinning again as he opened the passenger side door. “So show me.”
“Show you what?”
“Kickboxing. Show me what you’ve got.”
“I’m not a circus performer for your entertainment.”
“I’m not looking to be entertained. If you want me not to worry about you, then show me you can protect yourself. Show me what you’ve got.”
“I’m not going to do kickboxing moves in the middle of a parking lot.”
“Why not? No one is around.”
With a groan, I got out of the car, feeling yet again the need to prove myself to this man who insisted I shouldn’t be taken seriously.
He walked around the car so he was standing a couple of feet away from me. “So someone comes at you. What do you do?”
I moved automatically into my stance as he made a move toward me. I fired off a quick jab, aiming upward, right toward his face. I pulled the punch before it hit, but I would h
ave gotten a really good blow in if I hadn’t.
He looked surprised and pleased. “Good,” he said, sounding sincere for once. “What else?”
He made another move toward me, and I aimed a hook. He blocked it easily, but I followed it quickly with an undercut, which might have done some damage. “Nice,” he murmured, the expression in his eyes changing. Instead of laughter there was something else.
It wasn’t respect. But it was warm. Very warm. It was hot.
It made my cheeks flush, so I covered it by another jab, which he blocked without really trying.
The easy way he blocked it riled me up, so I twisted to throw out a sidekick.
It obviously took him by surprise, and he grabbed at my leg with what was probably an automatic reflex. It threw me off balance, though. He released my leg immediately, but I still ended up in a heap on the ground.
“Damn it,” I grumbled, trying to assess my condition after recovering from the shock of the fall. I was fine, only my hands were scratched up from catching myself on the pavement.
“Sorry,” he said, leaning down to help me up. “I’m really sorry. Are you all right?”
He looked genuinely contrite, but it was probably from his old-fashioned sense of chivalry, where you treat women like they were made of glass or cotton candy.
I wasn’t made of glass or cotton candy, and I could handle a little fall without making a fuss. “I’m fine,” I said, pulling away from his hands. “I’m fine.”
“Damn it, I’m really sorry. I was surprised and wasn’t thinking. I never would have—”
“I know. You’d never hurt a girl.” I looked down at my hands and saw they were bleeding a little. “I’m not hurt.”
“You’re bleeding. At least come inside and clean up some.”
I started to say “no,” since I wanted to get away from him as soon as possible, but it would be a real pain to try to drive home with bleeding hands. “All right. Thanks.”
“I’m really sorry,” he said again, as we walked into his building. He put his hand on my back in a protective gesture, or maybe just to turn me toward the right hall.
Duty Bound Page 3
