“One I’m willing to take.”
Good. He stood and held out his hand to her. “Let’s get over to the bus stop, then.”
Isabel raised her eyebrows and rose without his help. “Great, you’re finally willing to take public transportation when I just gave away all my money to a couple of homeless women.”
Happy that Isabel Grayson had a heart after all, Nick grinned at her. “Then it’ll be my treat.”
One he owed her, anyway, for leading her down the garden path, so to speak. But it was a path that would give her more information for the piece she’d decided to write.
Equally important, Nick acknowledged, they would be together.
How had this happened? He hadn’t wanted to see her again and now he didn’t want to let her go.
What he wanted was to make love to her as if nothing bad had ever happened between them. He wanted her to kiss him with passion and emotion and to love him again.
No, not again, he reminded himself. She’d never loved him in the first place. She’d merely experimented with him. She’d said so.
The thought tempered his good mood, and as Nick led Isabel to the bus stop, he kept an eye out around them for anything—or anyone—that looked out of place.
He might not have her for long, but he had her for now, and he was going to keep her safe.
11
TWENTY MINUTES LATER they entered Haven, a double storefront where two adults were busy dealing with a number of teens of various socioeconomic backgrounds. Closer at hand was a bulletin board with announcements about the services Haven offered—Isabel scanned notices about group counseling, drug programs, job-finding assistance.
Nothing about danger. About potential murderers on the streets.
While she’d put on a good face for the moment—something she was expert at—Isabel was more frightened than she’d ever been in her life.
A smell wafted to her that made her stomach growl in response. “Coffee.” A big pot was set out on a nearby table. “Do you think anyone would mind?”
“Knock yourself out,” Nick said.
As she filled a paper cup, she went over everything in her head once more. No, someone trying to choke her to death still didn’t make sense. Infidelity didn’t add up to murder. No matter that Nick had raised the question in her mind, she wanted to believe that attack was a coincidence.
Odd, though, that it had come on the heels of her being pushed into the street the night before….
When the cup was full, she couldn’t wait. As she poured for Nick, she took a long, satisfying swig and imagined the caffeine went straight to her brain. Unfortunately, it didn’t leave her any less confused.
Her father might not show his love for her, but she was certain he didn’t want her dead, no matter what she knew about him. Her father was many things, not all of them good, but he was no murderer.
Taking another swig, she murmured appreciatively and handed Nick a cup.
When he tasted it, he grimaced. “You like this stuff?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” she murmured, eyeing the box of doughnuts, as well.
“Have one,” came a male voice from behind them.
Isabel turned as a short middle-aged man wearing a T-shirt, jeans and long curly hair stepped up to greet them.
“Jerry Kramer,” he said. “What can I do for you folks?”
Isabel took Kramer up on his doughnut offer and Nick introduced them and told him about Louise.
“Do you have a photo?”
“I did, but my backpack was stolen.” She swallowed and realized her throat was sore, probably bruised inside as well as out. “She kind of looks like me—Louise is my younger sister.”
The social worker was already shaking his head. “Can’t say I’ve seen her around here.”
“What about a runaway shelter?” Isabel’s pulse thrummed as she asked, “Humboldt House—do you have the address?”
Kramer’s friendly expression closed a bit. “Sorry, I can’t give you that information.”
“Because you don’t have it or because you don’t want to?”
“Because I can’t,” Kramer repeated. “What I can do is offer you the message board. If your sister comes in, she’ll see it. If she wants to contact you, she will.”
Losing it, Isabel said, “She already has that option!”
Nick put his hand on her arm. “Calm down.”
“Right! My sister is on the streets, someone is after me, maybe both of us, and I’m not supposed to be upset?”
“After you?” the social worker repeated. “If you’re in trouble—”
“My sister’s the one in trouble.”
Before he probed too deeply, Isabel agreed to leave the message. Once done, they left Haven and Nick suggested they get something to eat.
“No money,” she reminded him, then added with hope, “The ATM?”
“A more time-honored way.” With a flourish, he held out his hand.
“You mean panhandling?”
Tension wired through Isabel as she thought about begging for money. But it was part of the experience, she told herself. If she wanted her view of life on the street to be accurate, panhandling was part of it. The streets were tough. If she hadn’t fully understood that before, she certainly did now. And she wasn’t about to back out of the agreement.
“Ironic, isn’t it?” she muttered. “I give away my money so that a woman I don’t even know won’t have to do what I’m now going to do to eat.” She glanced at Nick. “Don’t worry, I’m not changing my mind. We’ll do it your way.”
“I should be able to do it my way sometime, don’t you think?” he asked with a grin.
They weren’t talking about dinner money anymore.
From Nick’s expression, he was thinking of whatever it was they would be doing later. Of how he would like to take her.
So far she’d been pretty much in control of their close encounters. The message that he might want to take the lead sent the blood thrumming through her veins and her imagination soaring.
How would he approach her?
Him on top? Beneath? Behind?
She could picture them together each and every way. The video ran again in her head and it was definitely X-rated. Now it showed an image of him on top, inside her, arms hooked under her knees, lifting them until she curled her feet around the back of his neck. Not that she even knew whether or not she was limber enough…
Isabel tried to swallow, but her throat still hurt and her mouth was suddenly too dry and her thoughts were suddenly too jumbled. Thinking about being with Nick again inflamed her and yet she didn’t want just to have sex with him….
Knowing longing for more was useless, she asked, “So where do I get my tin cup?”
“I’m afraid paper will have to do.”
Once they arrived at their location, he reached into a street container and fetched a paper cup that had originated in a designer coffee shop. When he wiped it off, it looked clean enough. Still, Isabel wished she’d thought of sticking a pair of latex gloves in her pocket.
Six-corner intersections were a favored spot for indigents to panhandle—not only lots of cars, but lots of foot traffic. However, this one was too close to home for her comfort. What if someone she knew passed by? Isabel pulled the billed cap low over her forehead and prayed that no one would recognize her.
She stood at the curb alone so she could solicit both pedestrians on the sidewalk and cars on the street. Rather than sticking to her side, Nick retreated and stood with his back against a building so that it wouldn’t look like they were together. His reasoning was that a woman would make more money if she was alone and appeared desperate.
She was desperate, all right.
Wearing clothes that needed to be washed and having hair that needed to be combed made her look indigent, she guessed. But her sense of panic at having to beg enough money for a meal is what made her feel desperate. She couldn’t even look at herself in a nearby store window.<
br />
But she sure could write about how humiliating this felt, she thought as a man approached. “Spare change?”
“I only have bills,” he said, then continued walking without giving her one.
This was an experience she would never forget.
To several people crossing the street, she asked, “Could you spare a quarter?”
One woman said, “Go get a job!”
Another gave her a contemptuous look. “You’ll only spend it on liquor or drugs. I won’t support your addiction.”
Isabel wanted to crawl into a hole somewhere.
Over the next half hour, some coins dropped in the cup. A few bills. But most of the drivers looked the other way and pedestrians didn’t say anything, merely walked past her without actually looking at her, all making her feel as if she really weren’t there.
It was a surreal sensation and yet one that was all too familiar. Isn’t that the way her father treated her more often than not?
Her putting herself out here to be insulted and humiliated was his fault, Isabel thought. Why had she agreed to clean up this mess for him? A bad habit, she admitted, knowing it was one she had to break. In the past, her father had always had good, solid political reasons for what he’d asked her to do. But not this time.
And this time, she thought, again thinking about illuminating the public about life on the street, she would look to a different future.
A car pulled up to the curb and a window rolled down and Isabel snapped to.
“Spare change?” she asked the driver. “It’s for food, honest.”
He immediately pulled out a twenty and waved it at her. “C’mon. Get in. I’ve got a half hour. We can drive over to the park and—”
“I’m not going anywhere with you. Get lost!”
The driver opened the door and got out of his car. “What, I’m not good enough for you?”
“The lady told you to get lost.”
Suddenly Nick was there next to her, placing a protective arm around her shoulders and challenging the man with his very presence. Shaking inside, Isabel leaned into him, grateful for his presence. But how many young girls had someone to protect them?
The guy got back into his car and ripped through the changing lights, setting off several sets of blaring horns.
“He thought I was going to…” Isabel shook off her anger. “That’s it, I’m through here.” She looked into the cup with its several dollars’ worth of change. “Hmm, think this is enough to get a meal?”
“Let’s check it out.”
Isabel followed Nick to a nearby restaurant that was no more than a hole in the wall, a place she would never think of entering. But the service was fast and friendly and the meat loaf and mashed potatoes were better and cheaper than she’d expected. Nick didn’t try to start a conversation with her until her appetite was sated.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“My stomach is.”
“But you’re not?”
“What do you think?” she asked. “Out there, I felt like something someone scraped off the bottom of their shoe.”
“That kind of feeling is enough to wreck anyone’s self-confidence. And the number of kids on the street is growing and will keep growing until the right programs are put in place.”
“If you wanted my help through official channels, why didn’t you simply ask in the first place?”
“Because I didn’t think you would listen with an open mind. The problem never touched you until now. I wanted you to get the big picture.”
She nodded. “I guess I see your point. I just hope I can now help others get the message.”
Though if she left her father’s employ, she would cut herself off from a channel for change. She might write about it, but what then? She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.
But in the meantime…had she been wrong about Nick’s motives from the beginning? She’d seen his taking her to the streets as an act of pure revenge. But now she wasn’t so certain. His shooting footage for the documentary on the plight of runaway kids must have opened his eyes fast. And his heart. When they’d started out on their journey, she hadn’t been certain he’d had one.
For his caring and sense of purpose alone, she could forgive him anything in the present.
The question was…would he ever find it in that heart of his to forgive her for the past?
THOUGH HE HADN’T ADMITTED as much to Isabel, Nick had thought her heartless when she’d shown up at his door, even though she had been looking for her sister. Considering the cruel way in which she’d blown him off, how else should he have felt?
Now, after having spent so much time with her, he knew differently. But if Isabel wasn’t heartless, what the hell had happened all those years before? He studied her as if he could get some answers. But all he saw was a discouraged woman close to exhaustion.
“You look tired,” he said.
“Maybe because I am.”
He checked his watch. “We have hours to kill before the rave.”
“What? You don’t have some learning activity planned for me until then?”
But she wasn’t too tired to be sarcastic, he noted. “I’m fresh out.”
“Then what shall we do? Go sit on a park bench?”
“How about getting some rest?”
“We’re close to the town house.” She let out a laugh. “Wouldn’t that frost my father if he found us together in his own home?”
“I have someplace more basic in mind.”
“I’ll just bet you do.” Isabel sighed. “Well, let’s go, then.”
Undoubtedly Isabel would think he was trying to torture her further, but all he wanted was to make certain that she was safe. She might not believe it, but Nick was certain her attacker knew her. Or was working for someone who did.
Her father? He shuddered at the thought.
Whoever he was, the bastard knew about him, as well. Probably even knew where he lived. So Nick wasn’t about to chance delivering Isabel into a would-be murderer’s hands. His hope was that they would find Louise that night and all would become clear. And then he would convince Isabel to go to the authorities regardless of the consequences.
In the meantime, he would protect her. But from whom?
Nick had no respect for Senator William Grayson, but found it hard to believe the man could actually want his own daughter dead. She’d always gone out of her way to please her father, to do exactly as he’d wanted, as if she feared he wouldn’t love her otherwise. Had that included dumping her socially unacceptable boyfriend? For years he’d believed she’d never loved him, but now he wondered if there hadn’t been something else going on that he hadn’t understood.
This Isabel wasn’t the woman he’d imagined she would have become. She seemed to care about people, maybe even about him. At the thought, his unease about their deal grew by leaps and bounds.
He’d used the proposition as a weapon against her, to drive her away, but the plan had backfired. Then she’d turned it back on him. Now he was hooked—big time—and feeling too guilty for words.
No more, he thought. No matter how much he wanted her, no more.
For the most important thing he’d learned in the past few days was how much he still loved Isabel Grayson.
12
BY THE TIME NICK SHUTTLED Isabel off the second bus, her jangled nerves had caught up with her and squirrels seemed to be performing back flips in her stomach. Where the heck was he taking her?
Being west of the Loop, she could see the city high-rises and figured they couldn’t be too far from the warehouse where the rave was to be held.
“This way,” Nick said, leading her down a deserted street whose buildings were mostly shuttered.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Somewhere safe.”
Safe. A relative word. She’d felt safe until that morning, until she’d almost been choked to death. She and her sister were both in danger, though she still couldn’t say why.
Knowing she might never feel safe again, she wondered if Louise would be able to give her the reason. Could Louise have the key? Did her sister know something more than she? Something that could get them both killed?
“That’s it,” Nick said, pointing straight ahead.
All she saw was an old viaduct that ran under a raised street. The opening was blocked with chain-link fencing.
“Come on.” He walked right up to the barrier. “Let’s get in there fast, before anyone spots us.”
He did mean the viaduct! He scaled the chain link as if he were expert at it.
“Nick, are you crazy?”
He was already at the top of the fence. Swinging a leg over, he balanced and held out his hand to her. Knowing better than to argue with him, she followed, thankful for the gym time that kept her in good shape. A slim opening at the top allowed him to drop down on the other side. Then, as she carefully descended, he placed his hands around her waist, easing her to solid ground.
Heart thudding at his touch, she turned in his arms and felt her breath sweep away at the thought he might kiss her. For the first time since they’d come together, she actually wanted him to—without reservations.
Though they were cast in shadow, she got a brief glimpse of his expression…and then he turned away. Something she’d seen in his eyes called to her deepest being.
“How do you know this place?” she asked.
“It’s been here forever.”
“But it’s kind of out of the way,” she said, raising her voice to be heard over the traffic noise above them. “Why would you have come here?”
“Because it was safe.” He turned from her and went deeper into the shadows. “No predators.”
“Predators? Like wolves.”
“Like people who prey on kids.”
Improper Conduct Page 14
