Bond (Pierce Securities Book 6)

by Anne Conley

  When had the roles reversed? “Mom, I worked really hard for that money. I didn’t save it up so you could spend it all on one fucking date. In fact, I was paying back my boss for the advance he gave me so I could buy your damn car.” Now that the anger had melted, he let the frustration out in his voice, knowing it was wrong. He shouldn’t speak to his mother this way, but in all honesty, she deserved it.

  “By the way, your father isn’t doing well at all. You really should go see him. It will be your last chance.”

  “I’m not going to go see him, end of story. Stop trying to divert attention from the fact you’re wrong here, Mom.” Slade knew she wanted him to go see sperm donor because she couldn’t get away with a hospital visit without invoking wrath. Slade was the same age as his other son, and people would just think they were friends. If she went in there, looking the way she usually did, someone would suspect an affair, which didn’t bother Slade. It would serve the man right for everyone to discover he was a cheating bastard who didn’t take care of his shit. But it had always bothered his mother that she was the other woman. The one who was left in the dirt.

  “I’m sorry. I just wanted to let you know I had a good date. I’ll let you get back to your life.”

  Without another word, just leaving him with that guilt-inducing line, she hung up. Slade let his head fall back on the couch on a sigh.

  He had finished the cookies. They sat comfortably in his stomach, a welcome treat he hadn’t made himself. Slade knew he needed to return the platter but didn’t want to break any windows to do it.

  He had some YouTube videos to watch.

  Chapter Ten

  Deena Rae had spent all damn day trying to get images of Slade out of her head, but it was damn near impossible. Even though she was at work, with her stuffy boss and enough do-goody alpha males to choke her, she could only think of one bad boy with the fine ass, and the back rooms of that club, and his cock.

  As it flexed and pumped into her wet, clenching heat.

  Jesus. She was a mess. She needed to get Rick over to her apartment and take care of this shit.

  But even the thoughts of nasty, no-strings-attached sex with Rick just seemed … nasty.

  “You find anything last night?” Simon was standing at the door to the office she shared with Andrew, whom she ignored the best she could.

  She answered with a shrug. “Not really. There’s a hallway with back rooms that seems like it has possibilities for illegal stuff, but I didn’t go back there. I saw someone I sort of knew, and couldn’t get in there without …” Rough, dirty, sweaty, perfect sex. The kind of sex that makes you scream and claw and throw your head back with rippling orgasms.

  “Understood.” Simon nodded before turning to Andrew, who was pretending to work on a laptop. “Andrew, you think you can get in there?”

  “Absolutely, boss.”

  “Hey, it’s my job! I didn’t say I couldn’t get in there.” Indignation rose with the angry flush on her cheeks. Deena Rae would be damned if pencil-dick Andrew was going to get her job.

  “You can’t go back there two nights in a row, Deena Rae.”

  “You really think Andrew can go back there and get a good look if he’s too busy trying to get up some skirt? I never really pegged him for the multi-tasking type.”

  “Hey, I’m sitting right here,” Andrew stiffened in resentment. Deena Rae felt a little bit bad for giving him a hard time. Just a little bit, though. He was still about to take the job she’d worked so hard on.

  And she wanted to figure out if Slade was setting her up or not. It seemed awfully coincidental he was suddenly her neighbor and also worked for the club-owner she was investigating. The thought crossed her mind to tell Simon about him, but if it were sheer coincidence, she didn’t want him to have the details of her private life.

  “Sorry,” she muttered. Deena Rae looked back up at Simon. “It’s just that I’ve been working this case for almost a week. I can get back there. I swear.” And it might be fun, too. She could feel the smile stretching across her face, afraid it was a bit mischievous for her purpose with Simon. Getting in those back rooms didn’t require the maniacal smile she was sure she was sporting.

  “Case goes to trial in a month, and the lawyer wants something on this guy, stat. Make it happen, Deena Rae, or I’ll let Andrew do it. It’s not hard to look around the room while you’re … doing other things.” Simon actually blushed, and Deena Rae’s smile turned triumphant. She still had the case.

  When Deena Rae got home that evening, she immediately went to the TV to turn on the news for background noise while she preheated the oven and went to change into sweats for the night. Going back to the kitchen, she pulled her dinner out of the fridge and put it on the counter. Tonight was Balsamic chicken with roasted veggies. She was really trying on this stupid no-carb thing.

  She’d been walking around on auto-pilot, half listening to the newscaster’s voice, when she saw it.

  Her cookie platter, shiny and clean, on her kitchen cabinet.

  Son of a bitch.

  Reaching for it, she turned the platter over in her hands. No note.

  Deena Rae’s eyes darted around the kitchen, then she spun slowly, taking in the rest of her apartment. Was he hiding somewhere, getting ready to scare the shit out of her in retribution?

  No. He wouldn’t be out for retribution, would he? She’d said she was sorry for scaring him, that’s what the damn cookies were for. But she wasn’t used to this back and forth part of the courtship process.

  She let out a scoff at herself for that, breaking her stillness. Was that what this was? Courting?

  Way to bring it to the freaks and weirdos of the world. Breaking and entering to deliver cookies and return dishes.

  Rolling her eyes at herself, she walked through the rest of the apartment, looking for Slade.

  He wasn’t there, but evidence of him was everywhere. Her shoes in her closet had been organized, lined up neatly in a row instead of the jumbled pile of strappy leather and soles she kept them in. Her toothpaste tube was squeezed from the bottom, neatly rolled halfway. When examining the rest of her place, her utensil drawer was organized—all the forks and spoons facing the same way. She found her makeup straightened, everything standing up on end in neat little rows.

  Motherfucker had OCD tendencies.

  In her bedroom, next to the bed she made every morning—now neater, straighter, pillows more plumped than usual—she found a pair of her shoes sitting out. It was her highest pair of heels, in black patent leather, with ankle straps and tiny rhinestone buckles on the ankles.

  There was a note tucked inside the toe of one of them. With hands that trembled with equal parts trepidation and excitement, she pulled it out and read it.

  The cookies were delicious. Thank you. How did you know snickerdoodles were my favorite? I’ve been thinking about you more than I should. And watching YouTube videos. It’s good to learn new skills.

  I like these shoes. A lot. You should wear them around the apartment so I can watch you move.

  I don’t work Thursday night, and I’m taking you out. I’ll pick you up at seven.

  Huh. Deena stared at the note for far too long, pondering the ramifications. It implied he would be back in her apartment, simply because he could do it without her knowing. That thought should scare her shitless.

  But it didn’t. It only made her want to continue doing it to him, too. He’d asked her out. Sort of. He’d told her he was taking her out, not leaving her a way to say no. Indignation rose in her at his haughtiness. What if she had plans?

  Eventually, she looked through her window to his apartment across the way. He had curtains, but they were rarely drawn. At least, not since she’d started watching him. And they weren’t drawn now.

  She looked over and saw Slade sitting on his balcony with a beer in his hand, as if he were relaxing and watching the sunset.

  With a pair of binoculars trained on her.

  She couldn’t help b
ut laugh. The snort rose through her empty apartment, and she flashed him a wave.

  Sure. A date. She hadn’t had one of those in a while.

  Feeling a rare desire to please someone else, Deena Rae sat on her bed and put on the shoes before making dinner.

  Chapter Eleven

  Slade was fed up with Ignite. He knew exactly why the job had lost its luster: Cecil. Slade was walking on eggshells as he waited for Cecil to need him for some random errand with nefarious undertones—the last job he’d do before he went to jail for whatever it was Cecil was needing a fall guy for.

  He was over it. Tonight had been no exception. Another “package” delivered to the hills outside of Austin. Another dodgy party. Another escapade he had to indulge in just enough to blend in with other bad guys.

  Yep. He was a bad guy now. Fuck.

  That one thought made his stomach curdle. Slade had always walked that line but never really strayed this far over it. Now, he was most definitely bad, someone he wouldn’t let his hypothetical daughter date, someone he wouldn’t buy a beer for, someone he didn’t even really like.

  Letting himself into his apartment, he automatically knew she had been here. It wasn’t anything obvious, just a slight undercurrent to the air. A fission of energy. Something was just different.

  His stomach did a little twist as he tossed his keys and phone on the table near his door and went searching for evidence of her in his home. For some reason, he wanted something tangible. He wanted her to have left something of hers, something he could touch or smell.

  Because as badass as she was, Deena Rae was good, and Slade needed something to soften the gritty edges of his reality before he lost himself. Gone were thoughts of waiting until he’d straightened his shit out. Now he just wanted her, to feel her softness, to taste her sweetness … He smiled to himself. Yeah, that was a stretch, but still.

  Slade needed Deena Rae.

  As he walked through his home, he found the order he maintained, everything as it should be. Until he got to his closet and found his shoes in a jumble in the floor. For some reason, this made his chest puff up. Yesterday, he’d been afraid she’d been mad about his intrusion into her home. But when she’d seen him watching from his balcony for her reactions, she’d laughed, making his gut twist. Slade had wanted to hear that laugh. He wanted to know what she sounded like when she laughed, and by watching, he’d imagined a belly laugh that shook her to her toes. He’d been on his balcony watching with binoculars because he didn’t want her to think he had something to hide. Slade wanted Deena Rae to know he’d been there.

  And he would do it again.

  As he straightened all three pairs of his shoes—measly in comparison to the twenty-some-odd pairs he’d straightened in her closet yesterday—he noticed something else. His leather jacket was missing.

  He loved that jacket. It was the first major purchase he’d ever made with his own money. Aside from his bike, it was probably one of his prized possessions. He’d had it for years.

  But now Deena Rae had it, and he couldn’t say he minded.

  Slade walked over to the window, looking at her dark apartment, and imagined her sitting there, watching him. Of course, she was sleeping. She had a job she worked during the day that had her out of the house while he was sleeping. But no matter, his imagination was doing just fine. He pictured her wearing it while she slept. Naked.

  What the fuck was going on with him? He wasn’t looking for this. Slade flattened his palm on the glass briefly before going out onto his balcony and standing at the rail. He clenched the rail in his hands, taking a deep breath.

  He looked at the shadow he imagined was her sleeping body in bed. What was he hoping to get out of pursuing this, besides cheap thrills?

  His phone dinged through the open patio door, signaling a text message. With a sullen sigh, he went back in to find out what whoever wanted at this ungodly hour of the morning.

  It was from his mom.

  Your father’s funeral is Wednesday at 1:00. I need you to go pay your respects for me. He may not have been good to you, but without him, you wouldn’t be here.

  Slade powered his phone off, wishing he could do the same to the emotions roiling through him right now. As he went to his bedroom and undressed for bed, he thought. And thought.

  And thought.

  His father was a family man—a good man by all intents and purposes, just not to him or his mother. He’d chosen, and it hadn’t been Slade or his mother, the woman he’d fucked and left behind to care for a different family. In his mind, he must have thought the son with the potential disability was more deserving of his love.

  Slade, the capable son, apparently wasn’t deserving of the love of a father. While James Ward had been the model dad for his son with the visibility issues, he’d been ignoring Slade. The other son had gotten to go on fishing trips with his dad, played T-ball, done Boy Scouts, all that. And Slade had listened to his mother cry herself to sleep after yet another date with someone who wasn’t the man she loved.

  Slade knew all this because he’d spent a good four years of his life stalking his biological father in an attempt to gather the courage to confront the man. Then, he’d heard about the other son leaving the police force and assumed the blindness had hit him. It was then he realized none of it was worth it.

  James Ward certainly wasn’t.

  Slade would go to the funeral and stand on the sidelines while the acknowledged family got all the attention, while his mother sat at home and mourned the death of the man she loved. As it should be. As it always had been.

  And he’d be done with it.

  James Ward should have loved them instead.

  Chapter Twelve

  Deena Rae was taking her turn on the treadmill in the gym at the office. Most of the other guys were there, too: Ryan, Andrew, Simon, Jordan, and Hollerman. Evan was in his office doing something with his headphones on, and Quinten was on vacation. She liked Quinten. She’d worked his last case with him and learned he’s a quiet guy who likes to control his surroundings. But now he was off with his woman, probably holed up in her massive house playing hide the salami in blanket forts or something.

  “What could be in that back hallway?” Simon was asking while he worked the different muscle groups with free weights. “Any ideas?”

  “Not really. It could be anything, but I got the idea the one time I was there it was sex. I’m planning on going back Thursday, when it’s a little more crowded than it would be tonight.” She’d thought about going ahead and going tonight but couldn’t reach Rick to tell him not to come over. It would be easier if she just wasn’t at her place when he got there; maybe then he’d get the picture. But something told her he wouldn’t. She’d have to have a conversation with him.

  Things had gone on too long with Rick. Deena Rae was tired of playing on Rick’s docile tendencies for sex. It was weak, she knew, but it was the only pseudo relationship she’d had in years, one-night stands notwithstanding. When she’d quit, he’d kept showing up, and she’d sort of gotten back at Rick for all the bullshit by utilizing the handcuffs, and Rick didn’t seem to mind. At all. Now she was tired of it.

  She got hers. He got his. They went their separate ways. Something was wrong with that.

  But now Slade had asked her out in his last note. It wasn’t like she and Slade had a name for what they were doing, so she probably didn’t have to break things off with Rick. But when something soured in her stomach every time she thought about the two of them in the same idea—like now—-it was probably a sign she needed to break it off with Rick.

  Like they had anything.

  “You need any help getting back there? I could come along for a little intimidation or whatever.” Ryan was a good guy. If Andrew had said the exact same words, he would have added a flex, a wink, or something totally smarmy, intimating she couldn’t do it on her own. The way Ryan said it told her he didn’t doubt her abilities, just that he could probably make it easier.

&nbs
p; She managed a smile at him. “No, I think I might have an insider to help me.”

  “Is this in the file?” Simon grunted out while he was doing some weighted lunges.

  “No. I just met him in my apartment complex and have since figured out he works there.”

  Jordan snorted, but when she looked up at him, his eyes were focused on his feet on the leg machine.

  “What?” she asked him.

  He looked at her innocently. “Nothing. I met Mia when we lived in the same apartment building. Something about neighbors just gets me.” She ignored the comment, since she didn’t know Mia. Jordan was a nice guy to work with. Most of them were, and Andrew even had his moments, when he wasn’t being an ass. But she didn’t really know any of them. “But I’ll help out, too, if you need anything. I’m pretty slow right now.”

  She nodded, keeping quiet. She wasn’t sure if they were being so helpful because she was a woman or if it was because they were being genuine. Deena Rae wanted so badly for them to be genuine. Something about this place really made her want a connection with co-workers. She could see this being a sort of extended family she’d never really had.

  A weird snuffling noise came from the playpen in the corner, and Ryan scurried over to it, cooing softly. He picked up a tiny bundle in his arms and cradled it.

  Deena Rae smiled softly to herself. She would never admit it in a million years, but she turned to mush at the sight of a man with a baby in his arms. Maybe it was because she was thirty-three years old and babies were so far out of her realm of experience. Having worked in a male-dominated field her entire adult life, she’d never been around them. Deena Rae didn’t have any sisters, girlfriends, or women around her at all. Who knew she’d get her first experience with babies while working in this securities firm filled with bodyguards and ex-military types?

  A pang of something totally foreign hit her as she watched Ryan talking softly to his baby.