All for You

by Dana Marie Bell

  Seth hunkered down in his chair and pretended to read the papers in his briefcase. He hoped Abby would be done soon or he might find himself clubbed and dragged out of the salon by his hair.

  It took Abby another half hour to finish her last client of the day. She cleaned up her station, waved goodbye to the girls and headed out with Seth. Just before the doors to the salon closed, Nancy began talking loudly. The only phrase he caught was “My, isn’t he luscious?”

  “Have a safe trip home, Abby,” an amused voice drawled. Seth turned to find a tiny, ethereal woman locking the door of her store. Abby muttered something and hustled Seth to his car. She tried to hide her flaming cheeks from him, but it didn’t work.

  The woman’s soft laughter followed them.

  She wouldn’t look at Seth until they were halfway back to the town house.

  He couldn’t stand it anymore. “Do I want to know what you discussed with your friends today?”

  Her face turned so red he was surprised she didn’t get a nosebleed.

  * * *

  The rest of the week flew by in much the same fashion. Seth made breakfast and did the dishes at dinner. Abby cooked dinner and did the dishes at breakfast. Every evening he picked her up at work, and they would stop briefly at her town house to water her plants. She moved the milk from her fridge to his, and sneaked a couple of her plaid shirts back to his place when he wasn’t looking. The easy camaraderie they’d established that first day lasted through the whole week.

  He made no effort to kiss her again, though he watched her constantly. Abby didn’t know whether she should feel glad that he’d cooled things down, or upset. She also didn’t understand how he could move so easily into her comfortable routine. She didn’t feel awkward in front of him when she did her yoga, and he didn’t seem uncomfortable in front of her when he worked out in the home gym he’d installed in his third bedroom. He offered her the use of some of his machines, and she found herself working out beside him. She even tried teaching him some of her yoga moves, but wound up laughing at his commentary on pretzels and bendy straws and positions men should not be in.

  She’d collapsed on the floor in a heap of giggles when he’d muttered, “Gives the phrase bend over and spread ’em a whole new meaning.” Seth had opted out of the yoga after that.

  They talked about everything and nothing at all. It was scary how much they had in common, even favorite authors. The both loved science fiction, though she preferred softer and he preferred harder. She loved to cuddle on the sofa with a good paranormal romance novel, while he’d rather scrub his eyes with steel wool than read one. He loved classic mystery novels, but they bored her into drooling stupidity. They both loved to huddle under the covers while watching scary shows like Ghost Hunters and The Haunted late at night.

  It was perfect, and it couldn’t last.

  Eventually she’d have to go back to her life, and he’d have to go back to his. Already the cops had come knocking on Seth’s door, much to Seth’s amusement and her embarrassment. It helped that Seth seemed to know the detective in charge of her case, and even invited him inside for a cup of coffee. She’d seen him once before. He’d been with her brother when they came to investigate her break-in. Detective Dante Zucco was large, blond and intimidating, and if Seth hadn’t been holding her hand, she probably would have shaken apart from nerves.

  Yet after an hour in Dante’s company she found herself comparing recipes with him. It sounded like he was quite the cook, his expertise in Italian cuisine, whereas hers was in Mexican. He was like a giant teddy bear, somewhat growly, somewhat sweet and definitely protective. By the time he left, she felt like maybe there was another male in her life she could trust to protect her.

  The not-so-subtle thumbs-up he’d given Seth had both annoyed and amused her.

  No new incidents occurred, and that Friday, Abby decided that moving back in to her own home was a good idea. She didn’t want to get any more comfortable where she was, or she might never leave.

  It wasn’t the first-date conversation she’d envisioned, but it had to be done. She couldn’t squat in his house forever, no matter how sweet this little interlude was. So when he picked her up that night, she had a plan already in place.

  Beth had bet her ten bucks she would cave and stay at Seth’s. Beth was so going down.

  They stopped off at home first to change out of their work clothes. He came downstairs wearing a bright blue T-shirt and jeans, his white sneakers gleaming. He had an anticipatory grin on his face. She stood up, glad she’d chosen to go with her green T-shirt and black jeans. She felt both brave and exposed without her usual oversized shirt. Abby stroked the scar on her arm. It had been five years, and Seth didn’t seem to mind her burns. She stifled the urge to run upstairs and grab a big shirt to put on over the T-shirt.

  “So, where are we going for dinner?”

  He locked the door and put his hand at the small of her back. “It’s a surprise.” He grinned again as he escorted her to the car.

  Seth took her for Mexican.

  She bounced up and down in her seat like an over-eager kid at the familiar sign of her favorite restaurant, and he chuckled as he pulled into the parking lot..

  Abby ordered sangria, the nachos and chimichangas. Seth ordered cherry cola, tortilla soup and steak fajitas.

  While they waited for their food Abby decided it was time. “I’m moving back home tomorrow.”

  His expression was blank for a moment, and then his brows drew together in a frown. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Abby? I mean, it’s only been a week. We don’t know if the incident was an isolated one, and quite frankly, I doubt it.”

  Abby made a face. “Beth says the same thing.” She scooped up some salsa and popped the loaded chip into her mouth.

  “Beth, your PI friend?” She nodded, her mouth too full of tomatoey goodness to respond. “If she’s telling you to stay put, then stay put. Don’t rock the boat. Wait until we catch this guy before you go back to your town house.”

  We? “Don’t you think it’s about time I moved back?”

  “No.”

  Oh, hell. There was that expression again, the one that made her insides melt like butter in the sun. She swallowed hard, licking her lips at the sudden heat in his gaze. “Okay.”

  Damn it. Now she owed Beth ten bucks. She’d given in far too quickly. She’d have to sign up for the Backbone of the Month Club. Shit.

  He leaned back in his chair, obviously satisfied that she wasn’t going anywhere. “Besides, you make a good roommate. You cook, you clean up after yourself and you don’t leave pantyhose drying in the shower. I could do a lot worse.”

  “Maybe I could do better.” She tossed a chip at his fat head. He chuckled, the deep sound resonating to her core.

  She was in so much trouble.

  She managed to keep the conversation light after that, discussing her day and his with a bright vivaciousness that didn’t seem to fool him for a minute.

  * * *

  He was exhausted. He’d known Abby was thinking of flying away, but he’d hoped he’d have more than a week to talk her into staying.

  “Dessert?”

  “Dairy Queen?”

  “Oh. Chocolate, ice cream and peanuts. Sounds good.”

  Seth breathed a sigh of relief as he led her to the car. They were good. She wasn’t going to run, not yet, anyway.

  He stopped and stared at his car.

  Fuck. They found us.

  A green miasma lingered around his car. The tire had been slashed deliberately by a Shem.

  “I’m calling the police.”

  Abby responded to his grim tone by gripping his arm. “You think it’s the same person.”

  Smart girl. She hadn’t phrased it as a question, but he answered anyway. “Yes.”

  He called Dante as he led Abby back into the restaurant. “Problems, lover boy? I thought you were on a date.”

  “I am. Our tire was slashed.”

  “I’m
on my way.” From Dante’s tone, Seth figured he’d probably speed.

  He was right. It didn’t take long for Dante to arrive. Seth escorted Abby back out of the restaurant when he saw Dante’s ugly tan sedan pull up. “Seth, Abby. What happened?”

  Seth pointed toward his car. “Slashed tire.”

  Dante’s brows rose, but he didn’t comment. He sauntered over to the car, and Seth could see his shoulders tensing. He’d picked up on the Shem stink. “Let me write out a report. We can add this to the incident at Abby’s home, keep it in the same file.” He then walked over and gave Abby a brief hug. “Seth, buddy. Go ahead and change the tire. I’ll watch your girl.” He leered down at Abby good-naturedly. “How do you feel about Italian?”

  Abby laughed, and Seth decided that Dante could live another day. But if his brother didn’t get his hands off his woman, they were going to have words.

  Seth changed the tire as quickly as he could, listening to the quiet murmurs of conversation between Dante and Abby, her soft laugh as Dante told her some story about working with Bill. The men weren’t partners, but they were in the same department and often worked cases together.

  Shit. Maybe he should have had Dante change the tire.

  Seth stood and put all the tools away, giving the slashed tire to Dante as evidence. He turned to Abby and held out his hand, pleased when she immediately took it. “We ready to head home?”

  Abby nodded. “My head’s starting to hurt.”

  He caressed her cheek. “Let’s get you back, then.”

  “I’m going to follow you two, just in case.” Dante’s expression turned grim. “If this is the same person who broke into Abby’s home, I want to make sure everything is safe.”

  Seth nodded. Dante wanted to check for Shem, give Seth backup just in case. But they couldn’t tell Abby that. So he followed Dante’s car, pulling up to his town house with a heavy heart.

  Something definitely wasn’t right. That sick green miasma was all over his front door.

  Dante was already standing at the foot of the steps, scowling, his hands in the pockets of his trench coat. Seth got out, but gestured for Abby to stay in the car.

  Of course, she ignored him, running right up to Dante.

  “Stay put.” Dante’s voice might be gruff, but the hand he placed on Abby’s arm as she stood shivering in the evening chill was gentle. “Let Seth and me check things out first.”

  “It’s open.” Abby was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood.

  Seth hadn’t even noticed. Sure enough, the door was cracked open. “Dante.”

  “On it.” Dante edged through the door, leaving Seth to guard Abby as he drew his gun and disappeared from sight.

  “I’m so sorry.”

  Seth pulled Abby into his arms, mentally cursing at the way she shook. He’d finally gotten her calm, and some sick Shem had her terrified once more. “It’s all right, Abby. We’ll take care of this.” Lethally. There was going to be a dead Shem as soon as Seth got his hands on him.

  Dante stepped out, shaking his head slightly. “I need to call this in, but it looks like it’s clear. Don’t touch anything, you hear me? That’s evidence.”

  “Thanks, brother.” Seth walked up the steps, Abby tucked firmly against his side.

  Dante put a hand on his shoulder, halting him in his tracks. “It’s bad.”

  Shit. Double shit. Just what Abby didn’t need. Seth nodded and walked through the door.

  Abby gasped. “Oh, my God.”

  All of Fiona’s delicate glass sculptures lay in unrecognizable shards on the floor. The picture above the fireplace had been slashed down to the wall, the angel’s face shredded beyond recognition. The smell of milk beginning to sour permeated the carpeting. The refrigerator stood wide open, with half the contents sitting on the kitchen floor. Eggs had been thrown at the kitchen walls, making yellow tracks down to the counters. The word Whore had been written in red on several of the walls. He would bet anything it was lipstick.

  You’re dead had been written on the slashed angel painting.

  Abby fell to her knees, her face so pale he was afraid she’d pass out.

  “Abby!” He picked her up and placed her gently on the sofa. He forced her head down between her knees.

  “I’m so sorry, Seth.” Her hand caressed his cheek in silent apology.

  His hand came up automatically and grasped hers. “What?”

  “If you hadn’t been trying to help me, if I hadn’t stayed at your place—”

  “He probably still would have trashed my place, Abby.” He stood, lifting her to her feet with him, and put his arms around her. He wouldn’t allow her to think even for a second that she was in any way to blame.

  Hell, since she’d moved in, he’d been thinking of redecorating anyway.

  “Why?”

  God, she sounded so scared. His grip tightened. He didn’t need her to see the anger brewing in him. His gaze landed on the death threat and he grew cold. “Because Finley has figured out that you’re more than a friend to me.”

  “But—”

  He placed a finger on her lips. “No buts. I want you to stay here while I talk to Dante.”

  A fierce frown crossed her face. “No.”

  “Abby.”

  She stomped her foot. “No, damn it. You will not hide this from me. You think you can protect me from this?” She waved her arms around wildly. “This is my fault.”

  “Calm down, Abby. You didn’t trash my living room.”

  “I might as well have.” She ran her hands through her hair. He bet she would have been pacing if he hadn’t been holding her. “I have the right to be there to talk to the cops.”

  He studied the fear in her eyes. She wasn’t going to back down. “I want you to stay close to me.”

  She nodded.

  Dante entered the room, his expression grim. He grimaced at something over Seth’s shoulder and pointed. “Seth. Look at this.”

  It took him a moment to see the message written in red lipstick on the sliding glass doors. “Shit.”

  You can’t have her.

  A sharp elbow to his stomach had Seth releasing Abby.

  “Abby.” He chased after her as she raced to his bedroom.

  She slid to the floor, her face covered with her hands. “Oh, Seth.”

  He stood in the doorway and took in the scene. His bed was covered in red rose petals, the pillows drowning in them. Written on the bedroom mirror were the words he’d dreaded seeing.

  For you, my love.

  Chapter Four

  The police warned them both that the incidents would probably escalate. Stalkers rarely backed down, but even if the police caught him, all they could do was pin the two cases of vandalism on him. They dusted for prints, but while the door had been forced this time, there were no fingerprints anywhere. None of the neighbors had seen or heard a thing. Worse, they had no proof Doug Finley had been anywhere near Seth’s home, and Abby wouldn’t believe anyone else could have done it.

  He had to admit, he agreed with her. This was too personal, too up close, for it not to be Doug. But Damien had declared that Doug wasn’t Shem, that he was human. So why was there Shem stink? The sick green miasma was all over his home, thick and revolting. It would have to be fumigated, and not just because of the sour milk.

  Bill agreed. Abby had contacted him right off the bat. He’d arrived so fast, Seth was surprised he wasn’t a Malachi—able to teleport in an instant. He was standing next to Dante, scowling at Seth’s front door as if it had dared to attack him.

  “Listen.” Dante’s dark brown eyes focused on Abby before turning to Seth, a silent message on his face. “You two got some place you could hole up for a while? Some place out of the way, where no one would think to look for you while I work on this thing?”

  “We, Dante. We work on this thing.” Bill wasn’t backing down.

  “You want to put this fucker away for good?” Bill nodded reluctantly. “Then you step back and let me
deal with it. The captain said you’re too close, and you know he’s right.”

  “She’s my sister.”

  “And I give you my word, I’ll take care of her.”

  The two cops stared at one another before, with a curt nod, Bill hugged his sister, then walked out the door.

  “He’s upset.” Abby was staring as if Bill would walk back in at any moment.

  “The captain’s right. Bill will get himself, or you, hurt trying to protect you. Let me deal with it. I give you my word, I’ll keep him informed.”

  She blinked at Dante with a dazed expression. “Thank you.”

  Seth sighed. This whole thing needed to end, and soon. “I think I have some place to hide out that’s pretty safe.”

  Dante nodded. “Good. Make yourselves scarce.”

  “Done.”

  Dante gripped Seth’s shoulder and spoke quietly. “You take care of Abby and leave the rest to me.”

  Seth glanced at Abby, who sat shivering on the sofa. “Don’t worry, I plan on it.”

  Dante turned and smiled at Abby. “You take care. I’ll do what I can on my end. Your job is to stay safe. Capisce?”

  “Yes, sir.” She barely looked at Dante.

  Damn it. She was going to run. They’d had this settled over dinner, and now the sick fuck had messed up Seth’s careful efforts to get Abby to trust him.

  Dante studied her for a moment, and Seth wondered what was going through his brother’s mind. “You run, he’ll find you. Only you’ll be alone, unprotected.”

  Her expression turned startled.

  “Yeah. Forgot I’m a cop for a minute, didn’t you?” When she blushed, he clucked his tongue. He knelt in front of Abby and put his hands on her knees. “I need you to trust Seth. He’ll take care of you.”

  “I’m more worried about him than I am about me.” Abby shuddered. “I know what Doug is capable of.”

  “Seth has...resources he can call on if he needs to. You have to trust him to do what’s right for you.”

  She chuckled bleakly. “What resources? The Mafia?”

  “Something like that.”

  She lifted her gaze to Dante’s and Seth held his breath. Whatever she saw there made her relax. She took a deep, shuddering breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. I won’t run.”