For that matter, he understood the former, too. And he wondered just how torn the boy would be if he knew that his hated father and his beloved Kai were having rocket-hot sex while he was in that little soundproof room? He’d like to think the boy didn’t even know what that meant, but he knew better.
In the end, the lure of more time with Kai—oh, yeah, he understood that—won out, and after she locked up, they walked the three blocks to DiNozzo’s. Wyatt said little, just watched and listened as Kai drew Jordan into a conversation about chords and capos and open tuning that was way over his head. But Jordan clearly got it, and he regretted not having realized sooner how passionate the boy was about playing.
They ordered a large pizza, to Kai and Jordan’s specifications. He raised a brow at his son.
“I thought you hated mushrooms.”
Jordan flushed slightly, since he’d been the one to order them. “I like them on pizza,” he said defiantly.
“Just not in spaghetti sauce.”
“Yeah.” Jordan looked unexpectedly uncomfortable. “I’m gonna go play a game,” he said, gesturing toward the small bank of nearly-antique arcade games in the far corner of the dining room.
“What was that all about?” Kai asked.
“A plate of spaghetti he threw at me our third night here.”
“With mushrooms, I gather.”
Wyatt nodded. Kai gave a slow shake of her head. “He’s still very angry at life.”
“Funny, I thought it was me he was angry at.”
“You’re just the convenient target.”
Wyatt’s mouth quirked. “Been there,” he muttered. Then, before she could ask what he meant, he added, “But he’s better. Much better, since he’s been playing. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” he said again, “for…a lot of things.”
She smiled, the faintest tinge of color touching her cheeks. “Back at you,” she said, her voice taking on that husky note that was like her finger tracing his spine. He had to suppress a shiver as a flood of memories swept over him.
He lowered his gaze to the table, a wooden plank affair most often seen in backyards or parks, for picnics. That would be nice, he thought suddenly, a picnic with Kai.
He nearly laughed aloud at himself even thinking about such a normal thing. But the urge faded; wasn’t that why he’d come here, why he’d brought Jordan here, for just that sort of thing, the sort of thing he’d left behind long ago to tread in darkness and too often with evil all around?
He would like that picnic, he thought. A lot. Just as he would like a million other things he never would have thought of, if they were shared with her.
This kind of feeling had never been in his plans when he’d walked away. But then, in the beginning his plans had been simple. Leave it all behind. Go somewhere safe, and tell no one. Try to stay alive.
But as with all plans, the unexpected tended to disrupt them. And in this case, the disruption was indeed unexpected. Unexpected, uncooperative and permanent. He glanced over at Jordan, who was intently blasting something out of existence on an old-fashioned arcade video game.
Probably wishing it was me, he thought glumly.
“He’s coming around,” Kai said softly. He’d almost gotten used to her reading him so accurately. He who had more than once been told he was the most unreadable man on the planet.
“Maybe,” he said, shifting his gaze back to her.
He couldn’t quite believe she was there. Or that he was here with her. Something. But she was, and it was far, far too late to backtrack. So now he had to deal with the second major disruption of his plans. Kai and a host of feelings and urges so intense, and so completely new to him that when it came down to it, he had no idea how to deal with them.
“What now?” he asked, not even sure what he meant by the question.
“What do you mean?”
“Never mind,” he muttered, wishing he hadn’t said it, since he had no idea what he meant.
“Whew,” Kai said, in a teasing tone. “For a minute there I thought you wanted to Talk.”
He blinked at the way she said the last word. “Talk?”
“You know, with a capital T. Usually preceded by a very intense ‘We have to.’ I hate those.”
He laughed, aloud. He couldn’t stop himself. “I thought women usually—”
He did manage to stop himself then. And Kai grinned at him. “A broad generalization nipped in the bud. This is good. You’re coming along, too, Mr. Blake.”
What I am is crazy, he thought. Stark, raving, nuts-out-of-the-bag crazy.
There was a bustle of sound from the doorway, and Wyatt looked up. He was seated with his back to the wall, facing the doorway, a habit he’d never even tried to break. Three young men were there, with a fourth, even younger, standing a few feet away. The fourth left, and the first three sat down at a table outside. Two he recognized vaguely from having seen around town.
The third was Max.
Even through the window he could see that Max was wound up. He was shifting constantly in the chair, one foot bouncing in a quick rhythm. He was tapping his right thumb on the table even faster than the foot was bouncing. None of the three came inside; clearly they weren’t here to order pizza.
“Hopefully he’ll stay outside,” Kai said, and only then did Wyatt realize she’d turned to look at almost the same moment he had.
“Is that what they usually do?”
She nodded, letting out a small, compressed breath. “Yes. He’s here almost every afternoon and evening. Most of his customers are thankfully out-of-towners, and I guess they can’t find him unless he’s out front and visible.”
An edge had come into her voice, and he wasn’t sure if it was anger or bitterness.
“Then they go around the corner into the alley to complete the transaction?” he asked, remembering what she’d told him.
Kai nodded, and when she looked at him again, her eyes were troubled. “I am sorry, Wyatt. I should have told you right away.”
“It’s all right.” He meant it, he’d long gotten past that.
She shook her head. “I just didn’t want to believe it was happening here, in quiet little Deer Creek. That it had…followed me.”
He hadn’t thought of it quite that way. After a moment he said quietly, “It didn’t follow you, Kai. It was already here. You just noticed it because you’ve been there.”
“I should have said something to somebody. The deputy, he could have investigated Max and stopped him before Jordy—”
She stopped when he held up a hand. “Stopping Max doesn’t cure the problem. It’s like a weed, unless you get the roots, it’s just going to come back.”
“You mean…whoever it is that’s behind Max?”
He nodded.
She looked at him. “You seem to know a lot about this kind of—”
“I suck at Donkey Kong,” Jordy announced, plopping back down at the table. On Kai’s side, of course, which Wyatt completely understood. And since he was glad at the interruption, he only smiled at the boy, earning him a grimace.
“I’d be better at it if we had a game system at home. And I could play Guitar Hero. But he barely lets me watch any TV. I don’t even have one in my room.”
“Not sure you’re missing much there,” Kai said neutrally. “And third person is very rude, when the person’s right here.”
It took Jordan a moment to work it out. Then, to Wyatt’s surprise, the boy said, “Yeah. Sorry,” in a tone quite unlike the usual grudging insincerity of his forced apologies.
A callout from the counter told them their order was up, and Jordan jumped up without asking and went to retrieve it.
Wyatt couldn’t believe this. Couldn’t believe he was sitting here, with his son and the woman who had turned his world upside down, doing something as normal as having pizza in a small-town pizza parlor. Only the presence of Max outside was a niggling reminder that all was not blissful, small-town serenit
y. And for the moment, other than keeping an eye on that table outside, he was willing—no, happy—to ignore that.
Jordan dug into the steaming pizza, and Wyatt himself found it surprisingly good; it had been a while. Kai limited herself to two slices, but she ate those with a relish that made him hot all over again, especially when she unconcernedly licked a drip of sauce from the corner of her mouth. He remembered that mouth on him, kissing, licking, and he nearly groaned aloud at the sudden pressure of a body that hadn’t had anywhere near enough of her.
He didn’t think he’d ever have enough of her.
They’d finished the pizza, Jordan had gone another few rounds with his game while Wyatt had simply enjoyed being with Kai, talking of simple things that somehow seemed profound to him just now. He felt no desire to put an end to the evening.
It was, however, not the easiest thing for him to sit and watch the occasional customer approach Max. He supposed the upside was that so far there hadn’t been anyone he recognized, the downside was that two of them had been Jordan’s age, or younger. It went against the grain to just sit there, but he did it.
He heard a distant musical sound and his peripheral vision caught a movement from outside. His gaze shifted in time to see Max taking out what was obviously a smartphone.
Probably needed it to track his business, Wyatt thought, wondering what he’d find if that phone managed to fall into his hands. Perhaps he should facilitate that. There had to be calls to and from his boss there, whoever it was. In fact…
Max’s entire demeanor changed as he looked at the phone and saw who was calling. The cocky, local dealer vanished, and an attentive, almost respectful follower appeared.
The boss? Who else could shut Max’s smart mouth up and make him simply sit and listen intently?
Maybe Kai, he thought. She sure worked that kind of magic on Jordan.
Who, thankfully, was now sitting with his back to the window and was oblivious to Max’s presence. Again, most likely thanks to Kai; if it had been just he and Jordan, the boy would be looking any and everywhere except at him, and would have spotted Max long ago. He wasn’t sure what would happen, but he didn’t want to find out.
He was just thinking of how they were going to get out of here without walking right by Max’s improvised sales counter, wondering if there was a back door out of this place, when Max finished the call and put the phone back in his pocket.
Then he leaned forward to talk to his two companions, gesturing them in closer, giving a conspiratorial air to the whole tableau. The two others instantly became alert, glancing at each other with excitement. Max said something to the two, then one of them checked his own cell phone, the other glanced at a heavy, flashy gold watch on his wrist.
Coordinating time, Wyatt realized.
Then they all stood; the local drug connection was apparently closed for the day. Max said something else, there was another checking of the time, then they all nodded and departed to their cars parked near the door; Max to a shiny, near-new German sports sedan, the other two to a Japanese coupe that was much less expensive but covered in flash and bling and with a stereo that could break windows a block away; he’d seen—and heard—it around town.
For a moment after they were gone, he just sat there. But there was no denying what had just happened, and his gut was screaming. He knew too well, had seen it too often to be able to deny it now. The sudden tension, the repeated checking of time, the excitement, the last instructions and the abrupt departure all spelled one thing to him.
Add to it that they’d just gotten a big delivery, in a plainly visible truck, and the sum was clear.
Tonight was the night.
Chapter 22
He had no choice.
He had to get involved in what was going down at HP.
Wyatt sat in the chair again pretending to read while Jordan finished his homework, hearing the refrain in an endless loop in his head.
He had no choice.
Jordan grudgingly but dutifully sat at the table in the den reading a schoolbook. The boy had protested when he’d called an end to the evening out, and it was all he could do not to snap at the boy; it wasn’t like he wanted it to stop, that idyllic outing with Kai.
“Homework,” he’d said.
Jordan had opened his mouth, then glanced at Kai and shut it again. Probably, Wyatt thought, on that word I promised him hell to pay if he used it again. Although there was no doubt in his mind it had been Kai’s presence and not his own threat that had forestalled the boy.
But it hadn’t stopped him from trying to enlist Kai’s support. “He makes me do my whole weekend’s homework on Friday night, can you believe it?”
“Ouch,” Kai said empathetically. Then, without even a glance at Wyatt, she’d added, “But at least that means it’s done and you don’t have to worry about it all weekend.”
“Well, yeah,” Jordan had admitted grudgingly.
So maybe that was his problem, Wyatt thought now. He’d never explained it to the boy that way, just told him it had to be done because there was other work to do on the weekends.
At first the boy had grumbled every Friday, but gradually the complaints had slowed, whether out of resignation or actually seeing the advantage, Wyatt didn’t know. But the whines were seemingly in proportion to the length of the list of chores the boy had for that weekend; if he saw the chance for some real free time, he didn’t protest as much.
Wyatt felt a little like protesting himself. But having no choice was not an unfamiliar place for him; he’d been there countless times before, facing something he didn’t want to do but had to. And on his own; oh, yeah, that was old, familiar territory.
And this he had to do, for so many reasons. Not the least of which was he owed it to John. The man had paid him back tenfold for whatever he’d done for him, long ago. And if he’d taken the job John had wanted him to take, this would be his baby anyway. But he’d refused, and now the only thing between John and Max and his crew was a twenty-three-year-old rent-a-cop who had never faced anything more dangerous than an errant raccoon. This was way out of his league.
But it was dead-center in Wyatt’s.
And to top it off, he’d probably accelerated the timetable, with his confrontation with Max. He should have thought of that, but the only thing that had been in his mind at the time was keeping the slimy predator away from his son.
The question was, how was he going to do what he had to do when he had Jordan to worry about? What were the chances the rebellious kid would stay put just because he told him to?
Or should he tell him at all? Maybe he should just get Jordan settled in for the night and then leave, do what he had to do. The boy hadn’t tried sneaking out again; in fact once he was in his room he always stayed there, reading or listening to music—Relative Fusion, no doubt—probably happy to avoid his father for the rest of the night. He might never know. And he’d be safe enough here in the house; the action was going to be elsewhere.
He was certain Jordan wasn’t involved in this portion of it. There would be no reason, and they wouldn’t want a kid hanging around to mess up their operation. No, he’d been a source, that was all. Max’s abrupt abandonment of the pretense of friendship proved that.
With an effort he kept things seeming normal until Jordan finished and got up to go upstairs, an hour later than usual because it was the start of the weekend. Jordan thought it a ridiculously short concession, and Wyatt wasn’t sure he wasn’t right, in fact had been thinking about letting the boy have more time, but clearly tonight wasn’t the night.
But it might not hurt to put the boy on his best behavior, he thought.
“Jordan.”
The boy didn’t answer, but he did stop and look back from the foot of the stairs.
“Sometime this weekend, let’s talk.”
The boy’s expression became wary, and Wyatt had a sudden image of Kai—like that was unusual, he thought wryly—saying Whew, for a minute there I thought you wanted
to Talk.
He smiled in spite of himself, and Jordan’s expression shifted from wary to puzzled. Wyatt sighed inwardly; maybe he really should lighten up on the kid.
“About you maybe staying up a little later on Friday and Saturday.”
Jordan blinked. “Really?”
Wyatt nodded. “If you behave and we can work out an agreement on the terms.”
The boy grimaced, but Wyatt had a feeling it was more about the businesslike wording than anything. Jordan gave him a quick nod, and an expression that was as close to a smile as he’d gotten from the boy since this chaos had begun.
He wondered if that smile would get wider or vanish when he found out about his father and his beloved Kai. Wyatt had no idea. And he didn’t have time to think about it now, he had other things he had to focus on.
He found himself pacing as he thought. If it were him, he’d wait until the deadest hour of the night, but these guys were amateurs. They might jump the gun, just wait until the last of the late shift employees left, which would be in about another hour.
He had to be at HP by then. Before Max and his crew got there, so his arrival wouldn’t draw their attention.
He walked into the living room and stood at the foot of the stairs. He just stood there for a long, silent moment, knowing he was on the brink of doing something he’d sworn he was done with.
He had no choice.
Once it had been easy, turning off everything but the focus on the job. Now it was hard. So hard he wondered if he was going to be able to do it.
He had no choice.
So if you can’t do it, at least act like you can.
He went to the drawer in the kitchen where the usual household tools accumulated. He took out both a Phillips and a flat-bladed screwdriver. He walked back to the stairs.
The urge was there, to stand and stare again, but it would accomplish nothing. It wouldn’t change what he had to do, no miracle answer would appear.
He didn’t want to do this.
He had no choice.
He crouched down and went to work with the Phillips, unscrewing the brass crossbar that held the stairway carpet runner snug against the base of the riser of the first, the widest step. He set the bar aside, then used the flat blade to pry the carpet loose from the tack strip at the bottom. Then it was back to the Phillips to undo the wood screws that held the tread of the bottom step in place.
Always a Hero Page 16
