by Mandy Baxter
Still, her expression had been guileless, those big blue eyes of hers showing nothing but honesty. Her short, golden-blond hair looked as soft as corn silk, and in her wake, Damien had inhaled the sweet scent of her perfume. She reminded him of summer. Of the sun, and roses in full bloom. Though she didn’t come across as the type of woman who took shit off of anyone, she’d apparently taken it from her ex. Why else would she be helping him by allowing him to set up his distribution operation inside of her hotel? It might’ve been a good idea to have Gates do a background check on her after all. There was more to Tabitha Martin than met the eye, and Damien wanted to know what it was.
Fuck. It was tough to get into character and compartmentalize when his brain was buzzing with questions. His interest in Tabitha had nothing to do with the job. He had to stop thinking of her in those terms and see her through Damien’s eyes. She was a go-between and nothing more. A means to an end. Period. It was time to focus and get his head in the game.
He hoisted the heavy suitcase up onto the bed and unzipped it. Lifting the flap, he took a moment to examine the contents. Joey had gotten himself in deep, for sure. Filled to the brim with Stardust, the cache of narcotics was large enough to put Joey Cavello away for the rest of his life. Jesus. A twinge of guilt pulled at Damien’s chest; the knowledge that this shit would soon be out on the streets unsettled him. But the prize was Lightfoot. He had to see the bigger picture. Boise PD would get their chance at Cavello. Just not quite yet.
Damien had refused to wear a wire and he hadn’t thought it wise to bug the room, either. At least not yet. That’s not to say he was completely alone. Gates had men staged close to the hotel who were responsible for monitoring the comings and goings of Cavello’s clientele and to act as backup if shit went sideways. A small consolation, he supposed. Then again, if shit did go sideways, he’d probably be dead before his backup arrived. Callihan was right about it being some cowboy shit. Maybe his recklessness was an indicator that he just didn’t give a shit anymore.
He replaced the SIM card in his burner phone and cataloged the contents of the suitcase, snapping pictures of the drugs, the room, anything and everything that could be used as evidence. He might be using Cavello’s operation to get to Lightfoot, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t help build a case against the asshole in the meantime. After he finished, he tucked the tiny memory card into his boot. Even if Joey’s crew showed up to further vet him, they weren’t going to bother digging around in his shoes.
The next hour was spent dividing Joey’s cache into distributable portions. Fifteen different dealers would be stopping by, as well as a few preferred customers who didn’t deal but bought enough product to get “platinum level” treatment. Those platinum customers got a discount on their purchases because they didn’t have to go through a dealer to buy. They’d earned their status by keeping quiet, respecting Joey’s rules about not using on hotel property, and by always paying up front in cash. He might seem like an idiot, but in truth, he was running a top-notch business. The smart criminals were always the hardest to catch.
Which was why they’d had a hell of a time getting their hands on Lightfoot. Obviously he surrounded himself with equally crafty associates.
Damien spent the next hour handing out product to Joey’s dealers and clients, all the while making mental notes about each and every one of them. The dude ran a tight ship and the people who bought from him behaved like professionals. A few of them were dirty and already high enough to raise a brow, but for the most part, they handed over their money, took their backpacks full of product, and left. By ten o’clock, Damien had handed out over half of Joey’s weekend supply, and he wouldn’t be seeing the other half of his customers until tomorrow night.
Silence permeated the air and settled over Damien’s skin like shrink-wrap, squeezing all of the oxygen from his lungs. He let out a gust of breath and cracked his neck as he stretched it from side to side. It was too goddamned hot in the room. Too stifling. The walls were slowly closing in on him. If he didn’t get some fresh air, he was going to snap.
He snatched the key card from the table and hung a Do Not Disturb tag on the door as he closed it behind him, as an indicator to any of Joey’s clients that they should wait in the hallway. Unwilling to be cooped up in another small space, he took the stairs down to the ground floor and left through the side exit that Tabitha had left unlocked. As the cool night air met his lungs, Damien inhaled deeply, holding his breath as he stretched his arms high above him. A cloud of steam billowed in front of him on the exhale. Early winter wasn’t exactly balmy in Idaho, but the cold had never bothered him.
“What part of no do you not understand?”
The words echoed across the parking lot, spoken with a mixture of anger and anxiety. Damien recognized the speaker in an instant and walked toward the sound of Tabitha’s voice. He found her standing next to an older model Toyota 4Runner, both hands on the door handle. Beside her, Joey’s friend Tony held the door closed, one meaty arm caging her in while his free hand fiddled with the short strands of her hair.
“Quit being such a frigid snatch. I know you like to party. Joey said you’re the best piece of ass he ever had. I don’t see a problem here. It’s not like you’re with him anymore.”
Damien’s temper surfaced in a wave of heat that seared through his veins with every beat of his heart. What sort of low-life son of a bitch talked that way about his girlfriend? Ex or not. And had Joey indicated that Tabitha was one of the perks offered to his customers? A free sample that you got when you spent over a thousand dollars? She obviously wasn’t down with that, and she shoved against the asshole who’d just picked a backpack up from Damien not five minutes ago.
“Not if you were the last man on the planet, Tony. Get away from me and take your hands off of my car door before I call the cops. I doubt Joey would want them taking a look inside your backpack.”
Damien picked up his pace to a slow jog. Tony let out a loud bark of laughter. “As if you’d call the cops. As long as Joey has Seth by the balls, you aren’t going to do shit.”
He leaned in and Tabitha abandoned her struggle to open the car door, to push against Tony’s unwelcome advance. Damien swooped in and grabbed the asshole by the collar of his jacket, spinning him away. He slammed him up against the 4Runner with enough force to rattle the bastard’s teeth and braced his forearm against Tony’s throat.
“I know you aren’t tryin’ to start shit in this parking lot when you know the rules, right?” He forced the words through clenched teeth and increased the pressure on Tony’s throat until his breath wheezed in and out of his lungs. “Because if that was the case, you wouldn’t be doing business here anymore. And you know better than to fuck up a good thing. Right?”
Tony’s eyes bugged out of his head as he struggled to free himself from Damien’s grasp. He choked up tighter and the bastard’s face grew red under the fluorescent lights that illuminated the parking lot.
“Answer me, or I swear to God, I won’t think twice about snapping your skinny-ass neck.”
He let up on the pressure and Tony squeaked out, “Right. Right. I was just playing. Giving Tabs a hard time.” His words were spoken with all the desperation of a coward. Tony was obviously only as tough as he perceived his opponent weak. Damien towered over him and had a good fifty pounds on the smaller man. Tony knew he was outgunned.
“Apologize,” Damien ground out.
“I-I’m sorry, Tabs. I was just giving you a hard time.”
Damien leaned in close, his words for Tony’s ears alone. “If you so much as look at her again, I swear to Christ I will end you. Do you understand me?”
“Yeah. Of course, man. Loud and clear.”
Damien released him with a shove. “Get the fuck outta here and go move some merchandise. Or I’ll make sure you don’t get another ounce.”
Tony nodded in response and hiked the backpack up on his shoulder as he turned to leave. He massaged his throat, muttering something un
der his breath. Empty threats, no doubt. Tonight wasn’t the first time some low-life SOB had cursed Damien, and it sure as hell wouldn’t be the last. No matter what Tabitha’s role in Joey’s operation was, she didn’t deserve to be treated like community property.
Residual anger and adrenaline still burned through Damien’s veins and for a moment, he wished that Tony had put up more of a fight. The sight of his hands on Tabitha, his fingers teasing the strands of her hair, had sent Damien into a rage that he didn’t understand. Further proof that his head wasn’t right even after a few months’ worth of therapy sessions. He had no business being back out in the field.
None.
Tabitha leaned against the hood of her 4Runner, her breath stalled somewhere between her sternum and her mouth. Fear turned quickly to awe as she watched Damien throw that slimeball Tony up against her car, his forearm like a log lodged against the smaller man’s throat. No one had ever stood up for her like that before. Not even Joey, who used to sit back and snicker when guys hassled her, as if he found her distress entertaining.
She had no idea what Damien had whispered in Tony’s ear, but Tony looked like he was about to pee his pants. And honestly, Tabitha wouldn’t have blamed him. Damien’s display only served to solidify her opinion that he was, in fact, far more dangerous than Joey or any of the wannabe thugs he hung out with.
“Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”
The natural growl of his voice vibrated through every inch of Tabitha’s body and she suddenly felt too flushed despite the chill in the air. “I’m okay.” She pushed herself away from her car and hugged the two halves of her coat closer together. “Tony’s bark is worse than his bite. I’ve fielded worse from him before.”
His gaze darkened at the admission and Tabitha almost felt sorry for anyone his anger might be directed toward. “You shouldn’t be keeping company with guys like that.”
“What about you? Should you be keeping company with guys like that?”
He hid any reaction to her words behind an impassive mask. Why? Most gangster types wore their associations like a badge of honor. Tabitha got the impression that those relationships embarrassed Damien.
“Buy a can of pepper spray,” Damien said. “If you’re leaving work this late all the time, you should have the canister in your hand before you even walk out the door.”
Tabitha wondered at his concern. “You’re probably right. Especially with Joey’s asshole low-life friends hanging around.”
Damien looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth shut. A car pulled into the far end of the parking lot and cut the engine. No doubt another of Joey’s customers after their score. His gaze followed hers and a scowl marred his expression. “Does that asshole know where you live?”
“Tony? No. No one knows where I live.” Not even Joey. After they’d broken up, she moved from her apartment so he wouldn’t be able to drop by unannounced, and it made her feel a little safer.
His brow arched with curiosity “Not even Joey?”
What did he care? She barely knew Damien. “I think you have a customer.” She indicated the car that was sitting in the parking lot with the engine running. “Thanks for handling Tony for me. I appreciate it.”
Damien took two steps toward her, the bulk of his large frame towering over her. She didn’t feel crowded or intimidated in his presence, though God knows she should have. Instead, a jolt of excitement shot through her bloodstream as her heart beat wildly in her chest. He reached up, the motion abrupt, and brushed her hair away from her face as though he couldn’t resist. A riot of butterflies took flight in Tabitha’s stomach, swirling and soaring at the simple contact.
And just as abruptly, he turned away. Stalking across the parking lot with an angry stride that prompted the pleasant butterflies in her stomach to duck for cover. Was he angry? With her? What in the hell just happened?
“Who’s Seth?” He turned to face her, not ten feet from her car.
Suspicion crept up her spine like an early morning frost. “My brother,” she said. “Why?”
“Go straight home, Tabitha. And if Tony gives you any more trouble, I want to know about it.”
Without waiting for her response, he turned and took off toward the hotel, his body rolling with the cautious gait of a skilled predator. In the distance, a door slammed as whatever nasty drug dealer Joey sent over there got out of his car to follow Damien inside the hotel. Tabitha let out the breath she’d been holding in an attempt to calm her trembling limbs.
Her skull tingled from the brief contact of Damien’s fingers in her hair. The warmth of his body still occupied the space where he’d stood, close enough for her to touch. She reached for the door handle and pulled against the weight of the door. Tony had scared the shit out of her. She’d played it off for Damien’s benefit, unwilling for him to see any weakness in her. But the truth was that he’d always scared her, and despite Joey’s warnings, she knew he’d sampled some of whatever was in his backpack before making his way to her car.
If Damien hadn’t stepped in . . . God, she didn’t even want to think about what might have happened. Tabitha was still shaking when she fastened her seat belt. It took two tries to get the key in the ignition and she didn’t know what had her more rattled: her encounter with Tony or the effect of Damien’s close proximity.
By the time she pulled out of the parking lot, Tabitha was fairly sure she could drive home without getting in a wreck. If Damien could shake a woman up by touching her hair, she could only imagine what skin-on-skin contact would do. A quick ten minutes—thanks to the streetlight gods—saw her home, parked, and ready to call it a night.
“Hey, I saved you some pizza.” Seth was sitting on her couch, flipping through channels with a can of soda balanced on his knee. “What took you so long? Didn’t you get off work like an hour ago?”
It wasn’t that she minded having her younger brother as a roommate. In fact, with Seth’s penchant for getting into trouble, she could keep an eye on him better if he was under her roof. But tonight was one of those nights that Tabitha would have appreciated a little solitude to decompress. Her mind was racing with too many thoughts for casual conversation.
“How’d you pay for the pizza?” It sucked that it was the first thing she was prompted to ask. But she knew that Seth didn’t have three dollars, let alone thirty bucks.
He gave her a bright smile. “As of today, I’m officially and gainfully employed. The guy who owns Les Bois Construction, Jack, gave me a hundred-dollar draw to buy work boots.”
“And you ran straight over to Flying Pie and bought a pizza?”
“No.” Seth rolled his eyes and hiked up a pant leg. “I bought these first. On sale. Then I bought the pizza. Because I’m a boss at money management.”
The boots were nice, but he should have used the thirty bucks he’d saved for pizza for a higher-quality shoe. She wasn’t going to lecture him about it, though. Seth hadn’t worn many bright smiles in the past couple of years. And if she was going to keep him on the right track, he needed Tabitha’s encouragement, not her disdain.
“Pretty fancy for work boots.” She grinned. “When do you start?”
“Tomorrow,” he said through a mouthful of pizza. “I also went over to BSU today and talked with an admissions counselor.”
“Really?” She hadn’t meant to sound so shocked, but she would have simply been happy to see Seth enroll in a nine-month tech course.
“Yeah. I mean, I still don’t know what I want to do, but I thought I could apply for spring semester and figure it out in the meantime.”
“That’s awesome, Seth.” They were only two years apart in age, but most of the time Tabitha felt more like a mother than a big sister. “I can help you with the financial aid stuff if you want. I bet you’d qualify for a few grants, too.”
“All under control, sister.” Seth tossed a sliver of crust into the pizza box, his gaze focused on the pepperoni, bacon, and mushroom pie. “I know I�
��ve been a major fuck-up. And you got my ass out of trouble when you probably shouldn’t have. I just want you to know that I’m ready to put all of that behind me. And I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of me anymore.”
Tabitha plopped down on the couch beside him and ruffled his blond hair that was just a little shorter than hers. “You’re not a fuck-up, Seth. You’ve just made some bad choices. And I don’t feel like I have to take care of you.”
“Did you notice I didn’t get any peppers on the pizza?”
She smiled. “I did. You’re so considerate.”
Seth nodded solemnly. “Considerate is my middle name. And I really wanted peppers, too.”
Tabitha selected a narrow slice from the half of the round that was still left. She leaned back on the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. Seth settled in beside her and resumed his channel surfing.
“So, how was work? Anything interesting happen in the land of guest services today?”
A flush crept over Tabitha’s skin as she recalled the heat in Damien’s golden eyes as he’d swept the hair from her face. The sheer maleness of him as he’d jerked Tony away from her and slammed him against her car and the roll of his muscles as he’d walked away from her. “Same old, same old,” Tabitha replied after a moment. “Just another glamorous day of reservations at the IdaHaven Inn.”
Seth laughed. “One more semester and it won’t matter, right? You can kiss that place good-bye and go work at a hospital and torture people with your cold stethoscope.”
Tabitha let out a chuff of breath. She’d never let Seth know the truth. That if Joey had anything to say about it, she’d never leave that hotel. “That’s the plan.”
