Twisted Desire

by Sharon Kay

  A strand of hair blew across her face, and she tucked it behind her ear. “Not far. The South Loop.”

  Parker followed them outside and stared in the direction of the parking garage. “We’re parked close. We’ll take you home.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I can get a cab.” She stepped to the curb and peered up and down the street.

  No vehicles in sight.

  Parker frowned at the empty boulevard. “Maybe in rush hour you can. For now, we got this.”

  “Thanks, I really appreciate it.” She walked back, wrapping her arms around her waist. Abruptly, she sucked in a breath.

  “What is it?” he asked, on instant alert.

  “This is where it happened,” she whispered. “Right here on the sidewalk.” She focused on a pale-gray segment of the sidewalk. “I saw it from the conference room up there.”

  “Shit, I’m sorry you had to see that. Whatever it was.” Locke stepped closer, unsure if he should put an arm around her. But damn, she looked scared and cold, so to hell with the fact they just met. “Come here.”

  She stepped into his embrace without a second’s hesitation. “God, you’re warm,” she mumbled into his shirt. “Thanks. I usually have a strong stomach. Not much rattles me, but this…”

  “This would rattle anyone,” Locke said. “No apologies, okay?”

  “Okay.” She sighed deeply.

  Locke rubbed a hand down her back and glanced over her head at Parker.

  “This was some crazy shit, Megan. You’re entitled to be rattled.” Parker shoved his hands into his pockets. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” She pulled back from Locke. Hell, he immediately missed the feel of her tiny frame close to his.

  And he needed to cool it. Maybe the city’s cold weather was a good thing. “Anyone at home waiting for you?” he asked.

  “Nope. When I was off for the holidays I brought Bella and Edward home with me, but otherwise, it’s just me. I’m not around enough to really be a good pet mama.”

  “I’m sure you’d do just fine.” Locke walked close to her as they crossed one street and headed toward a giant neon letter P attached to the concrete structure like an obnoxious appendage.

  Entering the garage, Locke paid and easily found the rented black Explorer. It was roomy enough for Titan’s personnel. The women employed by the boss man might fit in a smaller car—the guys, no way. Locke opened the front passenger door for Megan, and she hustled in, teeth chattering.

  Parker got into the driver’s seat and cranked both the engine and the heat. Locke climbed in the back seat and stretched out his arms on either side of the leather. One knee bounced as the car gave a rumble that echoed off the gray concrete pillars.

  “Where’s home for you guys?” Megan asked.

  “We’re at the Langham Hotel,” Parker said as he maneuvered the SUV down a spiral of concrete ramps and onto a dark avenue.

  “Wait, you’re visiting? From where?” She turned sideways in her seat.

  “Virginia. Near DC,” Locke said.

  “Oh wow. Did you come in just to work on this …job? I’m not even sure what to call it.”

  “Job works.” Locke frowned. “Though this one is different.”

  “Oh?” She raised a brow. “You said you were investigators. You don’t usually investigate murders?”

  Locke rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m here for Parker, and he’s in it for the data and details. But it’s not what we usually see.”

  “Oh.” She made a face. “Yeah, the stored blood and hair are weird. I deal with DNA every day, blood samples—well, not hidden in a safe…crap.” Her shoulders sagged. “I keep saying the same thing. It doesn’t make sense.”

  No shit. Jerry looked like a class A1 nutcase. A potential danger to Trina, himself, Megan, and god knew who else. That made Jerry a threat. He moved beyond person of interest, and Locke didn’t want Megan staying up worrying about the plans of a possible real-life mad scientist. Though given her inquisitive mind and career choice, she might do it anyway.

  Time for a subject change. “Can I take you out for coffee tomorrow morning?” Locke asked. If they all had to wait on some damn file to unscramble, he’d rather wait with her.

  Her eyes snapped to his. “Sure. I’ll probably need a five shot espresso.”

  “Sounds good. I could use about a gallon of black coffee in the morning. You pick a place, I’ll pick you up.”

  “Oh.” She smiled, the first genuine smile he’d seen on her face tonight. “Okay, cool. I know a great coffee shop. But it’s closer to your hotel.”

  “I’ll still pick you up.” With a murderer roaming the streets, one who might know her, he wouldn’t take chances on her being alone.

  “Okay.” She glanced between Locke and Parker. “That would be great.”

  “You two have fun without me. I’ll be checking on this file all morning, plus other work stuff for the boss,” Parker said.

  Dude was not only brilliant but perceptive. Locke mentally thanked his buddy for not tagging along, though he couldn’t exactly complain if he’d wanted to join. But alone time with Megan was tops on his to-do list.

  Second was finding Jerry and figuring out what the hell he was up to. Maybe that should’ve been first. Locke frowned. Between him, Rhys, and Parker, Jerry couldn’t hide for long.

  The car cruised easily through the quiet streets. They crossed under a maze of sweeping expressway ramps and emerged in a neighborhood that seemed newer. Brick and glass condo buildings lined the streets and small trees grew from perfectly spaced grates in the sidewalk.

  “It’s a block down on the left,” Megan said.

  Parker pulled into the circular drive of her building. As soon as the car was in park, Locke was already out and hustling to open Megan’s door.

  She scooted out and gave him a shy smile. “You don’t have to walk me to the door.”

  “I know.” He peered into the car to make sure she had all her things. “Be right back,” he said to Parker. Satisfied, Locke closed the door, set his hand at the small of her back, and steered her toward the entrance. She was petite and too damn cute with her Irish name. Since his last relationship, he hadn’t had much interest in dating. But when Megan looked at him with those big green eyes, he’d be a fool not to find out if there was a spark. She helped them tonight, after they surprised her. Props to her for not freaking out.

  She intrigued him. He had the fleeting thought that a coffee date may not be enough, that maybe he’d need to stay in the city longer. Either way, just the flicker of suggestion proved he should spend time with her and see if he was ready to let go of the past.

  They reached an overhang. Sliding glass doors swished open as they approached, and she cleared her throat. “Um, what time tomorrow?”

  Locke would be up early, as was his habit when on a job. “How long do you want to sleep?”

  She frowned. “There’s so much going on right now, I don’t know how much I’ll be able to sleep. Oh, and I’ll need to go into the office and feed Bella and Edward. Hmm. How about nine?”

  “Nine it is.” He pulled out his phone. “Got your address, but not your phone number.”

  “Oh, of course.” She rattled off the digits, then entered his into her phone. The smile she gave him was tired but full of an anticipation she couldn’t hide. Maybe she didn’t want to. “See you tomorrow.”

  “See you tomorrow.”

  She hurried inside, and the doors closed, leaving him in the chilly air. Through the glass, he saw her wave to the doorman, then walk down a hallway until she disappeared.

  Locke headed back to the SUV and climbed into the passenger seat. Parker was absorbed in his phone, thumbs flying over the screen. “Talking to Lexi or breaking codes?” Locke asked.

  “Both,” Parker muttered. “She’s working on the files too. Thinks she can get ’em cracked faster than me.”

  “I plead the fifth on that. The two of you could probably undo the NSA’s firewalls if y
ou put your minds to it.” Locke settled back in the seat, looking forward to tomorrow and his little slip of a scientist.

  CHAPTER 8

  POP MUSIC PLAYED OVER THE speakers in the busy coffee shop as a bright and defiant morning sun tried to blast through the autumn chill outside. Locke sat at a too-small table with Megan across from him.

  Well, the size of the table wasn’t a problem, because he wanted to be close to her. It was just a ridiculously small piece of furniture. Who decided kid-sized tables were a good idea in these places, anyway?

  Her hair was up in a bun, with one escaped tendril that grazed her temple. Made her look like a dark haired Irish Tinkerbell. And as pretty as her hair was, with it off her face, her green eyes appeared even bigger. A smattering of freckles graced the bridge of her nose, something he hadn’t seen in the dark of last night.

  She sipped some kind of flavored chai latte thing and dug into a blueberry muffin. “So, I googled Titan last night.”

  “Yeah?” The combination of her soft voice and direct statement sounded sexy, though Locke knew the Titan website was anything but. It was slick and basic. All vital details went through Jared Westin, who seemed to know everything important going on in the world at any given time. “What’d ya think?”

  She gave him a piercing look “I can’t tell exactly what you do. You said private investigation last night, but the site has a lot of stuff that…”

  He studied her with a half smile, waiting to see how she would describe the glossed over version of Titan’s work.

  “Well, it’s like out of an action movie. Or the news. Government stuff going on in the Middle East…security, risk management.” Her brows knit together. “I don’t really get it, but maybe I shouldn’t.”

  “All you need to know is we protect those who need it, and lock up the ones who cause harm.”

  She tilted her head. “Do you go all over the world doing this stuff?”

  “Yup.”

  “Like where?”

  “Europe. Africa. Middle East.” He took a swig of his coffee.

  “Middle East,” she repeated with a hushed, awed tone. “With terrorists?”

  He nodded. She didn’t need to hear details.

  “Jesus,” she murmured, barely audible. “And now you’re stuck babysitting me.”

  He shook his head. “Not babysitting. Someone at your workplace was brutally murdered and Christ, Megan, you’re a witness. We’re not gonna let anything happen to you.”

  “I-I really don’t think that person—or whatever it was—saw me.”

  “Doesn’t matter. We don’t know, and until we do, we’ll keep you safe. And you’re helping us out. Trying to read those files.”

  She frowned. “I don’t feel like I helped much.”

  He reached across the table to cover her small hand with his. “Trust me, you did.” Hell, she kept her cool when others would have screamed or panicked. Instead, Megan had dug into Jerry’s files with an interest he could only watch in awe, rattling off cell-count-this and electrolyte-that.

  Her eyes met his as a tiny smile tilted her lips. She didn’t pull her hand away, but twisted it in his. With her other fingers, she lightly traced his knuckles. “Do you flirt with all the girls you protect?”

  “No.” That was the god’s honest truth. Better not to fuck the job, as his boss Rocco liked to warn. But something about this tiny, smart-as-hell woman got under his skin. Never mind that he’d known her less than a day.

  “Oh.” An adorable blush crept up her cheeks. “Well, it’s nice to be here with you. I, uh, don’t get out much.”

  The door opened, and two big men came in. Locke’s protective instincts pricked to life, but their unguarded posture and failure to scan the room ratcheted down the warning factor. They meandered to the counter and ordered drinks with too many words and ingredients for a dude.

  Megan didn’t even turn around. And why would she? She wasn’t used to being a target. “But all that stuff last night…I have no idea what Jerry was doing, or trying to do.”

  He nodded. “You can tell more than we could.”

  “I mean, what was he doing to her blood? Or to his own? There were no samples of his. Maybe he was drawing it himself and doing…some kind of test.” She sighed. “I was up late thinking about this.”

  He suspected as much. “You were supposed to sleep.”

  “I couldn’t.” Her voice was half teasing, half frustrated. “Yesterday was an eventful day.”

  “Agreed. And no conclusions?”

  “No.” She released his hand to take a sip of her drink. “Maybe one of them had a sickness, like you suggested last night. Maybe he was trying to come up with a cure—though that’s incredibly risky and unorthodox.”

  “You met this Trina, and she looked healthy?”

  “Pfft. More than healthy. Perfect. Gorgeous. It’s funny though,” she mused. “Jerry never dated anyone—not that he told us, anyway—until her. Then he couldn’t stop talking about her.”

  “So we need to wait for the file to be unencrypted,” Locke said. “Let’s talk about something else. Get your mind off the files. You’re gonna see ’em soon anyway.”

  “True.” She nibbled a bite of her muffin and pinned a suggestive stare on him. “What do you want to know? Or do you already have a file on me?”

  “No file.” Though he wanted to know pretty much everything about her. Outside a siren wailed from an ambulance zooming down the street. “Tell me…how’d you decide to go into science?”

  “Easy. I always liked it, especially biology. I loved creating experiments, testing theories. Seeing what worked and what didn’t.” Enthusiasm filtered through her words, and it was damn near contagious. “And when I learned more about the research side of it, that I could help find drugs or tests to diagnose and treat disease, I was really hooked.”

  “What kinds of disease?” An unbidden image flashed into his head of her in a biohazard suit, where one prick of a stray needle could infect her with something deadly.

  “I’ve been working on a drug to slow the effects of ALS.”

  “No shit.” Hell, she would change thousands of lives if she succeeded. She was in the trenches fighting disease, doing good that not many people witnessed and might only realize on a peripheral level. Kind of like Titan in that sense. “That’s impressive. You try it on anyone yet?”

  “No. I’m nowhere near the clinical stage. Only working at the cellular level. And with rats.”

  He held in a grin. “Bella and Edward?”

  She beamed. “You remember their names. Oh!” She pulled out her phone. “It’s time to feed them.” She started to gather her things. “Thanks for coffee. Um, I’ll just—”

  “You’re welcome, and if you’re going into that office, I’m going with you.”

  She stopped and gave him a genuine smile. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have thought I would be creeped out, but after going through Jerry’s files…I’d rather not be there alone. Not until I understand what he was doing and why Scott wanted him to stop.”

  “I agree.” He stood and drained the last of his black coffee. “We’re still waiting on that one file for Parker to crack, anyway.”

  “That’s right.” She slung her purse over her shoulder. “Hope it’s soon. Though I’m not sure if I want to find out.”

  Locke followed her outside, thinking the same thing. But whatever fucked up experiment Jerry was doing would hopefully lead them closer to solving Dayton’s murder.

  After a quick cab ride to Dayton Diagnostics, Locke and Megan were back in her tidy office. “Come on in, sit wherever.” She gestured around the room and headed into the lab, where she got out cans and dishes for…whatever it was that rats ate.

  He walked up behind her. Getting in her space, seeing if she’d mind, because the exposed column of her neck was a temptation he didn’t want to resist. “Don’t rats eat everything they see? Even garbage?”

  She half-turned to him with a smile that said she definite
ly didn’t mind. “City rats do, yes. But these two have a better diet.” Reaching into her minifridge, she retrieved a bag of chopped up carrots and some odd tan cubes.

  “Rat food?”

  “Yep. Lab block—gives them all the nutrients they need. The carrots are part of the fresh fruits or veggies I give them daily.” She put the carrots and cubes into white shallow dishes and set them in the glass aquarium. One rat immediately dove in. The other—must have been the shy one—didn’t venture out of wherever it was hiding.

  She rotated fully so that mere inches separated them. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said softly, but the tone in her voice said there was more to it.

  “Me, too.”

  “But…” she tapped a finger on her chin. “Working on a Chicago murder seems really far from maintaining security in a war zone.”

  “Chicago had a record amount of murders last year.”

  She sighed. “I know. It’s been awful. But it’s a lot of gang stuff. We don’t have IEDs lining the streets.”

  “And thank fuck for that. Also.” He took her hand again, needing to close the small distance between them. “This was a situation that needed our expertise.”

  “The way Scott died? Or the security on our files?”

  “Both.”

  Her chest rose and fell with quickening breaths, enticing him. “It’s scary. It’s like the more we learn, the more questions come up.”

  Sure, the situation was scary for a civilian. But it wasn’t fear that had her fingertips caressing his. “We couldn’t do this without your help. Megan. We have a good team, but we don’t have anyone who understands this genome and biology stuff. We need you.”

  A beat of silence passed, then a soft shuffling came from behind Megan as her animals dug into their meal. Her gaze settled on his mouth, and damn if that didn’t make him want a taste of her.

  “Yeah?” She tilted her head up.

  He nodded, leaning close enough to smell whatever fruity product she used on her hair that morning. Or in the shower. Damn. Pouty pink lips taunted him with all kinds of dirty possibilities.