Dark Horse
Page 12
"Alright, this PAED," Xander said, looking up at us. "Which is pronounced like pay-ad, not paid, which would have been kind of ironic. But yeah, that's short for People Against Environmental Destruction. These are the people supposedly threatening the CEO."
"Are they violent?" Faith asked from where she was standing making everyone coffee. "Don't look at me like that, New Guy," she said, giving Enzo a brow raise. "I'm a bartender. It's a knee-jerk reaction. I'm assuming black, like the rest of them?" she asked, obviously already knowing how the rest took their coffee.
"Historically, no," Xander said, accepting the cup when she handed it to him. "In general, they seem to roll out their yoga mats in front of wrecking balls and shit. Get hauled into jail a lot, but not for violent offenses."
"But," Faith asked, handing Enzo his coffee.
"But, there have been a few incidents with offshoots of the main organization who have taken it upon themselves to attack equipment at pipeline builds."
Brian snorted, drawing Enzo's attention. "Can't blame them for doing that," he explained. "No sane person wants those fuckers built. I'm assuming the only clashes are with CEOs or the police who drag them in?"
"Mostly the CEOs and reps and foremen. They drop their weapons when the cops come to break it up. They seem pretty on-message most of the time, even if violence isn't usually a part of PAED."
"Are threats a thing?" Enzo asked, confused more so than he had been an hour before. It had just fit so perfectly. Threats, followed by an attack. That made sense logistically.
That being said, maybe that should have been the red flag. Maybe that was where his street brain should have clicked off, and his detective brain should have clicked on. Because when things were too perfect, wasn't that a reason to rethink them, to examine further, to dig deeper? Rarely in life did everything just line up. Not one fucking thing in his life had ever come to him on anything other than a winding, uphill path covered in hot coals, rabid dogs, booby traps, and people intent on doing him harm.
And, from what he could tell, that was true of most peoples' lives.
Nothing just worked out with no muss or fuss.
Shit was always slightly confusing or fucked up.
"Shit," K said, voice muffled, eyes focused on Espen's computer screen, but the exclamation drew everyone else's attention.
This was likely why none of them saw the shadow move across the windows, why no one heard anything until the door flew open.
He didn't need to look to know.
She had figured him out.
"Shoulda told her," Faith said under her breath.
"Oh, fuck," Xander hissed as she stepped inside, showing everyone the extent of her beating.
Somehow it looked even worse in the more harsh lighting at the office. Or maybe time was just doing its thing and setting the bruises in deeper. Whatever it was, her eye and throat were vivid purple and blue with a healthy dose of yellow as well. The eye was more swollen underneath. The cut looked bright red against her paler-than-usual skin, the butterfly bandages with a hint of red, like maybe she had opened the cut up in her sleep without realizing. Her body was curled half to the side, taking some of her confident swagger away in the name of easing the screaming bruises to her ribs.
But even battered and mildly broken, she seemed fierce and capable. Her dark eyes were spitting fire. Her jaw was set to stone. And her voice when she spoke, though it croaked like she was a lifetime fan of gargling jagged stones, was strong, threatening.
"Seriously?" she asked, looking right at Enzo.
"Honey..."
"Don't honey me, honey," she snapped, making him have to work to keep his lips from quirking up, realizing she had spat the same thing at him the day he met her. "You assembled a makeshift superhero squad to take on my case?"
"I believe it is our case," he defended, going for logical, knowing she would run out of steam fast trying to fight him on something fact-based. "I made a decision to bring in reinforcements."
"And instead of bringing in, say, Ra or Kane, you brought in not only our boss - who we are trying to impress with our investigative skills, if you remember - but all his friends as well."
"Espen, you seen a mirror yet?" Xander asked, lips tipped inappropriately up. He had a sort of dark sense of humor most of the time, finding amusement in things most normal, well-adjusted people wouldn't. Which likely came from a lifetime splashing around in the gutters.
"Sorry I'm not pretty enough for you today, Xander. I had a rough night."
"That you should have told me about."
"I figured when I showed up in the morning looking like this, I would fill you in. There was no need to drag you or your friends out of bed at five in the morning to talk about it." The last part was said directly at Enzo.
If he wasn't mistaken, he saw a hint of betrayal there. And, to be honest, he had earned that. He knew she wouldn't want him to do what he did, but he went ahead and did it anyway. He had a feeling he wouldn't be getting soft and sweet from Espen again anytime soon.
But if it meant they got the bastard who roughed her up, he was willing to take the setback. He had a feeling he might need to use his long game with her.
"Look, Espen," K said in that deep, rich voice of his, drawing everyone's attention. "I don't know you. You don't know me. But I know a fuckuva lot about proud women. One thing that seems always to follow when a proud woman gets herself into a sticky situation, is she tends to get herself killed. Now, the problem here being, when I tell proud women such as yourself this fact - and it is a fact - they usually ignore me, tell me I am being an alarmist, or that I wouldn't say the same thing to a man, what-the-fuck-ever they need to say so they don't have to let go of that hubris and accept help that they desperately need."
"I have a lot of respect for what you do, K, but you don't know me."
"I know all about you, babe. Rokudan belt is a great fucking accomplishment, but it don't mean dick if you're too hurt to fight back. You and I both know that. Even a Judan belt holder can get his ass handed to him if he's favoring his ribs. Martial arts are important, but so is knowing your limits."
"Listen," Faith said when Espen's chin stayed lifted. "I get it. These guys go all growly and slip into alpha 'protect the woman' mode. It's obnoxious. You and I both know that on a good day, you can more than take care of yourself. But you're not having a good day. And they, if you know anything about any of them, are not going to give in. They're on this now. It will just sap your already spent energy to keep sniping at them. Just kick back, ice those ribs, pitch in when they're being stupid - which they will be. That's partly why I'm here too. Gotta even out all that damn testosterone occasionally. And otherwise, just let them find the guy."
"Why? So they can kick his ass? That's my right."
It happened so fast that you would have missed it if you weren't watching the two women so closely.
Faith planted her feet, cocked back an arm, and swung.
Espen, even with only one good eye, saw it coming, swung out across her body to grab Faith's wrist, and shove the arm away. But with her arm only half-extended, she let out a cry of pain that dropped her to her knees.
He got that she was making a point - maybe even a much-needed one - but as he passed her to reach down to Espen who couldn't get back to her feet from that position, he sent Faith a hard look.
"I can..." Espen objected when he moved to wrap an arm around her lower back, determined to save face.
"No, you can't," he said, tone soft, eyes even softer, as he sank his fingers into the hollow of her hip to start pulling her up slowly.
Despite her objections, by the time her feet planted, her hands were sinking into his biceps, her fingernails pressing crescents into his skin, trying desperately to hold on as her ribs screamed.
He lowered his mouth down by her ear so no one else would overhear. "Take a breath, baby," he told her, trying to ignore the way her body shivered slightly when his breath hit her ear. He was close enough to feel her
chest expand then release. "There you go."
"E, why don't you help her back..."
"I'm not handicapped!" Espen nearly shrieked, showing perhaps for the first time just how frazzled, worn-out, she was. A well-rested, not in pain Espen never would show her weaknesses like that to others, especially not her boss and his friends.
"No," Enzo agreed. "But you can't hobble it all the way back to the subway like this, and I got a car. So, he's just being logical here."
Her gaze went to him, sending him a mix of relief and resentment. The latter, he was choosing to ignore, focusing instead on the former, knowing that she was not in good shape, that she needed more sleep, some ice, time to heal.
"Fine," she snapped. "But I want you guys to keep me updated as you find things out."
"I got your number," Xander agreed as Enzo led her toward the door, opening it for her with a big grin as she small-eyed him for doing so.
"Go on, let it out," he encouraged as they rounded the bend toward Gabe's lot where his car was stashed.
"Let what out?" she asked as he bleeped the locks to his car, going to her side to open the door.
"The string of curses I know you've been holding in since you woke up."
"That was really shitty, Enzo. You shouldn't have gone behind my fucking back like that. On this case, you and I were supposed to be partners. And you go running off on your own without consulting me. That was not cool."
His stomach dropped slightly at the rawness in her tone, something she never showed him before. His hand rose, his fingers snagging her chin gently. "Bad move, huh?"
"Really bad move," she agreed, voice firm, but she didn't try to pull her chin away, something he was going to go right ahead and read into.
"I wasn't trying to fuck you over. I just wanted to get a handle on this before it went any more sideways than it already was. You need to take care of yourself, Espen. Especially since you won't let anyone else do it for you."
"I don't want anyone thinking that I can't take care of myself," she admitted, perhaps giving him more than she ever had willingly before.
"Honey, anyone who has known you for two minutes knows you don't need anyone. But that doesn't mean you can't let others help you when you're down for the count. We all lean on others sometimes."
"I shouldn't be leaning on my boss."
"I'm not talking about Xander, Espen. I'm talking about me."
"My competition."
"Someone who gives a shit about you," he shot back.
"You shouldn't."
"Yet, I do," he said, with a shrug, moving his finger out to stroke over her cheek. "So, if your stubborn ass will let me, I am going to get you back to your apartment that you should never have left in the first place."
"Fine," she said, feigning anger, but they both knew it was false as she grabbed his arm so she could lower herself down into the seat.
As he drove her home, he wondered if maybe it hadn't been a mistake after all. Because in dragging her out, and having her be forced to acknowledge her weaknesses, she had let her guards down a bit. She had opened up.
And he, well, he was going to go ahead and take advantage of that for as long as it lasted. He figured if he could get in, prove he wasn't going to hurt her, then maybe, just maybe, he could stay in.
Maybe they could truly start something.
"Oh, just take it," he said when they pulled up to her building and she gave a raised brow look to his outstretched hand when he opened her car door. "You know you can't get out of that low seat without it," he added, making her let out a grumble as she slid her fingers into his waiting hand, and let herself be helped.
"So do you think you can manage to..." he started as they stepped off the elevator, but trailed off at what was in front of him.
An open door.
Her open door.
"Can't imagine you were in such a rush to chop off my balls that you forgot to close, let alone lock, your doors. Slow up," he said, grabbing her hand when she went to rush past him toward the door in question, always seeming to forget that she wasn't in tip-top shape right then. "It's not a 'I'm a man' thing," he added, pressing her back against the wall. "It's an 'I'm an able-bodied person' thing. Just hold up, and let me look around for a second. I promise if the fuck is still here, I'll hold him down so you can beat the shit out of him," he added with a smirk as he moved toward the door and slipped inside.
It wasn't ransacked.
There was just the same clutter that was there when he left. But there were signs of scratches around the keyhole - telltale signs of a lock pick kit. And there were a couple footprints on the floor that were slightly muddy. True, they could have been his from earlier, but, well, let's face it, Enzo was too much of a neat freak in general to leave muddy footprints in his own house, let alone someone else's.
He moved through the bedroom, to the bath, seeing no one, seeing no signs of anything being off.
Whoever was there, they were long gone.
And whatever they were after, it wasn't Espen's expensive TV, stereo system, or the jewelry on her nightstand that looked real.
No, he realized as he made his way back out of the bathroom, what they were after... was likely Espen herself.
Maybe they wanted payback for her hurting them.
Or maybe they were worried she was a loose end that needed some tying.
Whatever the reason, whatever the motive, one thing was clear - she wasn't safe to be in her apartment until they all figured out who the fucker was.
So, on that thought, he went into her closet, grabbing a bag, and stuffing random pieces of her wardrobe into it. Thankfully, she seemed to dress in blacks, gray, and white, so it didn't matter what he picked, it would all match. He reached into her intimates drawer, grabbing a handful of whatever was in it, and stuffing it in on top before closing it, then moving back out to the hall.
"Damn," she said, sounding genuinely disappointed that they hadn't caught someone in the act. She probably was. She was just that kind of woman. And he was more than happy about that fact. "Why do you have my bag?"
"Because you can't stay here. Don't," he said when she went to open her mouth to object. "Apparently, this asshole has a grudge and wants even more blood than he already got from you. Like it or fucking lump it, honey, I'm not letting that shit happen on my watch."
There was what might have been considered a sigh, but it lost its effect because she ended up coughing because of the deep breath, then letting out a whimper when the cough sent off shockwaves of pain. "I guess I can stay with Biyen. I know, I just fucking know his ass is going to call my dad, but... what?" she asked when he shook his head at her.
"You're not going to stay with your cousin. I don't know him from Adam, and he might be perfectly capable of taking care of you, but I'm not sure about that. And I need to be pretty fucking sure."
Her eyes went a little small at that. "Why do I get the feeling that you aren't saying I should go stay at a very safe, very anonymous hotel?"
"Because you're going to be crashing with me until you are in fighting shape again."
"Um... no, I'm not."
He knew this was shaky ground. If he indulged her in the seemingly wanted argument, he knew he would likely lose. She was just too damn stubborn. But that stubbornness did work in his favor in one way, didn't it? She always wanted to win.
And he had one last card up his sleeve.
"Aw, what's the matter, baby?" he asked, smile going a little wicked. "Don't think you can control yourself around me for that long?"
Her eyes sparked.
She didn't even need to speak for him to know he won.
She just had no idea she had lost.
She thought the actual game was being able to stay away from him.
And while, yes, he knew he would be dealing with that, and while he absolutely was still interested in more than protective or work relations with her, he knew that was going to have to wait.
He didn't want it if it came from
exhaustion, pain, a need for a little comfort and kindness after a really shitty situation.
He wanted it for real, or he didn't want it at fucking all.
"Oh, please," she said, attempting an eye roll that would have been more effective had she had two eyes to do it with, as it was, it was actually kinda funny, but he pressed his lips together to keep from getting in a fight. "Get over yourself, Enzo. You're good looking, but you're not that good looking."
At that, he couldn't help the smile that broke free.
Because they both knew she was lying.
She wanted on, case closed.
But he appreciated having to work for it.
She had no idea that she had just created a challenge for him as well.
And he could be every goddamn bit as stubborn as she was.
"Then we don't have a problem, right?" he asked, already halfway, he knew, to victory.
"Nope. Not at all," she agreed.
ELEVEN
Espen
There was a big problem.
Huge.
Epic.
As she followed him into the elevator in his apartment building which she had actually been in once before, in high school when she had a tutor who lived there. Well, fine, a tutor who became a sort-of boyfriend for a while.
She had visions of terrible carpets, tile, and countertops momentarily as he hit the button for his floor.
But those ideas lasted all of point-two seconds.
Because there were more pressing issues to deal with.
Like the fact that Enzo absolutely was every bit as good looking as he thought he was. Well, likely more. While Enzo did have a sort of laid-back confidence, he wasn't as cocky as his looks dictated he absolutely could have been. He had supermodel-worthy bragging rights. So... yeah. He was hot. She knew he was hot. He knew that she knew he was hot.
And she was getting the distinct impression that he had totally just conned her into saying he wasn't that attractive so that he could get her to his place where he wanted her.
If that was true, well, he was a much bigger threat to her professionally than she had originally thought. Not only was he better with people, but he could pull off something that clever. It not only said that he knew she was someone who never backed down from a challenge, but was too damn prideful just to admit she wanted him. It meant he was a lot better at reading people than it seemed like he was.