by JL Simpson
Solomon laughed. “I'm not one for sharing. Tony's a mate. He’s going to help me put her in the car.”
“Nice legs. Great arse. If I was you, I'd be taking her home to bed and licking her all over instead of clubbing, any night of the week.”
“Well you're not me. Now, if you'll excuse us…”
“What if I refuse?”
A warm hand slipped up her thigh. Daisy’s stomach roiled, and she squealed and kicked back. Her foot made contact with a soft body. Someone groaned, and then she heard the thump of what she assumed was someone hitting the ground.
Another set of footsteps ran toward them. “What the fuck did you do to him? I know you. Fucking Nobby. It's fucking Nobby.”
There was the sound of scuffling. Nobby yelled, “Shit. Run.”
Solomon started to jog down the alley. He bellowed over his shoulder, “Nobby, for Christ’s sake, keep up.”
Daisy lifted her head. Nobby was panting as she fought to catch up. One man stood in the middle of the alley, as the other struggled to his feet still clutching his family jewels. “Bitch.”
Daisy rested one hand on Solomon's butt, using him as leverage to push herself higher and give the man a middle finger salute. His mate lifted his arm. Moonlight glinted off metal. Daisy struggled to get free. “He's got a gun.”
A bang filled the air. Solomon ducked, making Daisy shift forward. His hands slipped over the soft fabric of her dress as she wiggled free and slid down his front, her clothes riding up around her waist.
Flashing the world her black lacy underwear was the least of her worries, when another bang sounded behind them. She swayed, the blood rushing from her head. Solomon’s grip was strong, as he grabbed her arm and dragged her along. Nobby overtook them, and they all turned a corner and ran for the car. Daisy fought for air, and wished she'd spent longer on the gym case with Solomon.
“Keep your bleedin' head down. You were supposed to be out cold. Can't you do anything you're told?”
“He touched me.” Another bang made her scream.
“And I told him to cut it out. Do you want us to get caught?”
“By the police?”
Solomon ducked as another crack sounded.
“By the bad men with guns, who suggested I treat you as my personal lollypop.”
The sound of running echoed along the alley.
“Oh that's disgusting.”
Nobby managed to chuckle between pants for air. “Someone's led a sheltered life.”
“Someone is happily married, and has a lollypop of her own at home.”
Solomon pulled the back door of his SUV open and hoisted her inside, apparently not caring that her very skimpy underwear was on display. “News flash, Princess. You're breaking your rule about not talking to me about your sex life.”
Nobby climbed in the passenger side of the car. “Shame. I wanted to hear more about Paul, the personal lollypop. He always did have a soft spot for redheads.”
Daisy shoved herself up into a sitting position, tugging her dress down over her hips. “What do you know about Paul? Who the hell are you, anyway?”
Solomon turned the engine over, and sped away.
Chapter Thirty-One
Solomon's phone vibrated in his pocket, but he ignored it. He had a fair idea who was calling, and why. He wasn't in the mood to chew the fat with Dan or any other cop. Not even Mavis.
He stopped at a red light, and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
Nobby glanced left and right. “Where to?”
Solomon shrugged. “Good question.”
Daisy shoved her head between the front seats as the light turned green. Solomon sped away, and Daisy squealed as she was thrown into the back seat in a tangle of arms and legs.
Solomon let out a loud sigh. Some days, he was sure he’d have less trouble working with a child. “Put your seatbelt on, Princess.”
“If you'd stop driving like a maniac it would be fine. Besides I'm invincible. I've been shot at, and walked away unscathed.”
“You're not invincible. You're a bleedin' liability. How will it be, if you go through the windscreen and I have to tell Paul?”
Daisy fell sideways with a thud, as Solomon took the next left. She scrambled back up into a sitting position. “Where are we going?”
“I'm taking you home.”
Her voice turned into a whine any teenage girl would be proud of. “Please don't take me home yet.”
He heard the click of her seatbelt. “I'm all buckled up. See? I can do as I'm told. Please, Solomon, I want to see what happens next.”
“What happens next is best left to me.”
Nobby frowned. “What does happen next?”
“Safe-house for the night.”
She slid her hand onto Solomon’s thigh and whispered, “With you?”
Solomon batted her hand away. “No. On your own. I've responsibilities.”
“I would be safe at your house.”
Solomon turned a frosty eyed stare at Nobby. “Believe me, you wouldn’t. Do you want to tell me who those goons were?”
Nobby shook her head.
“Maybe a good night's sleep will see you change your mind, and make you realize I'm the only person you can trust.”
“What about Daisy?”
Solomon glanced in his rearview mirror. Daisy's head flopped back against the seat, her mouth hung open. “You want Sleeping Beauty to be your bodyguard?”
Nobby looked over her shoulder at Daisy. “Fine. A safe house, and then tomorrow you’ll help me?”
“Agreed.”
“And the cops?”
“Know nothing of any value, and I plan to keep it that way, for now.”
When Solomon pulled up outside Daisy's house, the front light was on. It was a little after ten. No doubt Doughnut was waiting up for her. Solomon undid his seatbelt, and opened the door.
Nobby undid her own belt. “Need a hand?”
Solomon shook his head. “Best Paul not see you. I'll have a hard enough time explaining how Daisy ended up so drunk she can barely walk, without him knowing you're involved.”
“Is it wise to keep it from him? He always had a way of getting the truth out of you in the end.”
Daisy woke with a jump. “What end? What truth? Where am I? I think I'm going to be sick.”
Solomon scrambled out of the car. In one swift move, he pulled the rear door open and dragged Daisy onto the footpath. Cake crumbs on his upholstery was bad enough. Vomit was totally unacceptable. He held her around the waist, with her back against him.
She swayed and clasped her head in her hands. “I'm fine. I'm fine. Let me go.”
She struggled against him, and he let her slide from his grasp. Daisy lurched along the footpath, missed the gate, toppled over the small white fence, and face planted into the lawn. Solomon jumped the fence. Light flooded the garden, as the front door opened. He squatted beside Daisy, and attempted to pull her back up onto her feet. She giggled and tugged at his jacket lapels.
Paul’s voice cut through the crisp night air. “Solomon? Is that Daisy?”
Solomon abandoned trying to stand her up, and scooped her into his arms instead. Daisy’s giggles turned into a slurred and drunken rendition of, “It’s Raining Men.”
He walked to the front door. “Your wife had a few too many glasses of wine.”
Paul folded his arms. “I can see that. Why didn’t you stop her?”
“I didn't notice she was putting it away, until it was too late.” Solomon smiled in the hope Paul would see the funny side. He needed to drop Daisy off, and get moving. He didn’t have time to argue with Doughnut. Paul didn’t need to be upset. Daisy had been drunk before, and would no doubt be drunk again. “No harm done.”
Daisy’s singing came to a halting stop. She snuggled into Solomon, and let out a gentle snore.
His heart lurched with the knowledge she felt safe in his arms. A few weeks ago he’d been her mortal enemy. Maybe Paul forcing them to wor
k together had been a good idea after all. He smiled at Paul. “She'll be good as new in the morning.”
Solomon glanced up the stairs. “Where do you want me to put her?”
Paul glared at him. “This needs to stop. She’s working with you, so you’ll keep her safe.”
Daisy opened her eyes, and smiled. “Hey, sexy-pants. Your hot bunny girl's home. You want to break out the toys, and have some fun? I like the blue one that looks like your penis. You've got a lovely penis. I should paint it blue, and see if it matches.”
Solomon chuckled, and Paul stuck a finger in his face. “Don't you dare say a word. Not a word.” Paul reached out for Daisy. “Give me my wife.”
Solomon hugged Daisy tighter, unwilling to hand her over to an angry Paul. “I’ve got her.”
Daisy giggled. “I saw a penis shaped like a banana earlier. It couldn't even pee straight.”
Paul stared from Daisy to Solomon. “What's she talking about? You haven't been flashing it about again, have you?”
“Very funny. I'm not packing a banana, as well you know.”
“He's right.” Daisy dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “Remember when he was naked in the kitchen? I wasn't looking, but even though it was teeny tiny”—she held her fingers up to indicate the size—“it looked straight enough to me.”
“Your wife is such a funny drunk, even though it does make her delusional.”
“My wife isn't supposed to be drunk at all.”
Solomon muscled past Paul, and deposited Daisy on the sofa, intent on getting away before Paul demanded to know what the hell they'd been doing all evening. He bolted for the front door and Paul followed.
“Oy.”
Solomon stopped. “What?”
“Are you forgetting something?”
Solomon stepped forward, and kissed Paul on the cheek. “Night then.”
“Smart arse. I meant your daughter.”
“Shite.” How could his little angel have slipped his mind? He was turning out to be almost as lousy a father as Lisa was a mother. He glanced at his car. There was no way he wanted Nobby to find out about Molly. She was always looking for an angle, a deal, a way to manipulate any situation to her advantage, and Molly was Solomon’s biggest weakness.
“Where is she?”
“Sound asleep in the spare bedroom.”
Solomon shoved his hands in his pockets, and hunched his shoulders. “It would be a shame to wake her.”
Paul leaned against the doorframe, and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want us to keep her until tomorrow?”
“Would you? That would be grand.”
“And when you come to collect her, you can fill in the bits Daisy has forgotten.”
Solomon had no intention of telling Paul anything he didn’t already know. He hoped Daisy would have enough wits about her when she sobered up, to keep her mouth shut about Nobby and the men shooting at them. He kept his tone light and playful. “Sure I will, sexy- pants.”
A loud moan and a thump sounded from the lounge room. “I think your lady needs your attention.”
Paul glanced up the hall, and Solomon made his escape, leapt the front fence, and climbed into his waiting SUV.
Nobby stared out the side window, and then back at Solomon. “That went well.”
Solomon put the car in gear, and the tires squealed as he roared down the road. “Where Daisy is concerned, things never go well.”
“So why work with her?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Do you fancy her?”
“Not in the least.” Solomon filled his voice with menace, His feelings about Daisy were his own, and not something he would share with the likes of Delia Clark. He cared too much about Daisy to let her become a pawn in whatever devious plan Nobby was concocting.
Nobby turned in her seat to face him. “If I were really into women, I'd fancy her. Pretty, feisty, funny—what more could a man want? And it's not like you haven’t slept with a redhead before.”
“I've lifted my standards.”
Nobby’s throaty laugh filled the air. “Ouch. Does Paul know you think his wife is not worthy of you?”
Solomon gripped the steering wheel harder, until his knuckles turned white. Nobby was doing what she did best—twisting people’s words, messing with their heads, and manipulating them to get what she wanted. “I never said that.”
“So you would do her.”
“I would not. She's not available.”
“But if she were, you would?”
Solomon growled. “If she were, I'd not know her.”
“Fate has a funny way of throwing people together.”
Fate had nothing to do with his feelings about Daisy. She was family, and for that reason alone she would always be special to him. However, he wasn’t stupid enough not to realize she stirred emotions in him best ignored. He doubted any hot blooded male could spend time with Daisy without having some physical reaction best kept in check. She was all Nobby said she was, and so much more, but she was, and always would be, his brother’s wife. “Shut the feck up, Nobby.”
“Why don't you call me Delia?”
Solomon glanced at Nobby. She held his gaze, and slowly licked her lips. Solomon sneered with disgust. He might be in need of some sexual relief, after all the stress of work and the case of blue balls he’d had since the near miss with Belinda, but he would never be desperate enough to sleep with Delia again. “Why don't you dream on?”
When Solomon pulled the SUV into the curb, Nobby stared at him. “What are we doing here?”
“You wanted a safe-house, didn’t you?”
“Have you gone certifiably insane?”
“This is the perfect place to hide you.”
Solomon switched off the engine, and then looked out the window at Lisa’s empty house. “No one would expect you to be so stupid as to be here.”
“That's because I'm not that stupid.”
Solomon smiled. “But you are. The police have been and gone. The place has been thoroughly searched. No one is coming back. You'll be perfectly safe.”
Nobby grabbed Solomon’s arm. “I can't go in there.”
“Why ever not?”
“That's where they killed him.”
“Leo? It is. But what's done is done.”
“You always were a callous bastard.”
“And you always did a better job of being a man than you did of being a woman. We're both playing to our strengths.”
Unshed tears glistened in Nobby’s eyes.
Solomon sighed. “I've nowhere else to put you. The cops will be all over me like a rash, so you can't be seen at my place. Same goes for my office. I won't put Daisy in danger, so this is the best I can do, unless you want me to take you to your place.”
“No. Fine. But you will come back for me in the morning?”
“First thing.”
Nobby tightened her grip on Solomon’s arm. “And you'll help me?”
“I've no doubt we can be of use to each other. I need to get this mess of Lisa's sorted out, and if helping you achieves that end, I'm willing to do whatever you need of me.”
Nobby smiled and leaned closer, filling Solomon’s nostrils with the smoky scent of her cologne.
Solomon placed a hand on Nobby's shoulder shoving her back into her seat. “Except that.”
Nobby snorted. “You've done it before.”
“You were a woman.”
“I'm still a woman. You know this whole Nobby persona isn't real.”
“I'm aware it's all part of some weird character you've adopted. Why you've done it, I've no idea, and right now I don't want to know. However, as much fun as sex with you was the first time, I'm not looking to do it again.”
“Given your heart to another?”
“We were in a strange situation.”
“This is hardly normal. Is it?”
Nothing had been normal since he got the call about Lisa’s arrest, but Solomon was done talking for the night. He yanke
d open the car door, and climbed out. Nobby followed suit. They made their way up the drive, and Solomon unlocked the front door. He checked the house was empty, and then left Nobby to get some rest.
Solomon thought over the evening and the last few days as he drove home. He was missing something, but he was too tired to work out what. Dealing with Molly’s fretful, broken sleep had his body aching with fatigue, and he was ready to bury his face in his pillow and forget everything until the morning.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Solomon’s shoulders sagged with relief that the night was finally over. The gate to his property slid open, and the gravel crunched under his tires, as he drove up the front drive.
A light blazing in the upstairs bedroom set his heart racing. He pulled over, and switched the engine off. Keeping to the grass, he crept toward the house. Whoever was inside either had a key or the ability to disable a security system designed to keep out all but the very best.
He eased the front door open, slipped inside the house, and pulled off his shoes. Silently, he tiptoed into the kitchen, and checked the security panel. The alarm had been deactivated. He crossed back to his study, retrieved his gun from the desk drawer, and loaded it. The weapon felt good in his hand. Anger boiled deep in his gut. He’d kick the arse of whoever had violated his home.
Solomon climbed the stairs, being careful to avoid the squeaky third step. A slow, sultry saxophone solo filled the air. Whoever had broken in had great taste in music.
Solomon hugged the wall, gun by his side and finger on the trigger, as he approached his bedroom. The music could be a distraction, a way to have him relax thinking there was no threat. Thank God Molly was still with Paul and Daisy. In one swift move, Solomon shouldered the door open, and planted himself, legs wide, gun pointed at the bed. A soft pink dress was draped over the back of his chair, and something moved under the blankets.
Solomon stared in disbelief. “What the feck are you doing here?”
Mavis smiled, threw back his bedcovers, and got to her feet. Her lacy, lilac two-piece lingerie set left nothing to the imagination. “You gave me a key, remember?”
He dragged his focus to her face. “Put some clothes on.”
Mavis's smile slipped. “You don't want to join me? Weren't you intent on seducing me, the other day in the kitchen?”
