Over Mike’s shoulder, he spotted the asshole sitting up and did not want to be wasting time arguing. He wanted to load this fucker into his car and haul ass to the farm.
“He won’t talk to the cops.”
Again with the sarcastic laugh. “How do you know? Are you going to neutralize him? Because then you’ve got a body to dump. We’re not in some third-world country where you can go in, take a guy out and head home. We’re on our own here. The government won’t help us.”
A boiling fit of rage went up Vic’s arms and he fisted his hands in Mike’s T-shirt. It took every stinking ounce of effort to keep his voice low. “Don’t you think I know that? I’ve hit every kind of roadblock with this situation, I’m worried I underestimated these assholes and now you’re being a problem? I’m trying to keep your sister and her family safe, and I don’t need this bullshit from you.”
“Guys,” Tiny said, stepping between them and giving them both a shove. “Take a break.”
Vic leaned against the house, stared out at the quiet lake. They needed to get this show on the road because they could only stand out here so long without attracting some sort of attention.
“All I’m saying,” Mike said, sounding calmer, “is we need to think this through. I’ve got a lot to lose here and, unless I’m going blind, you do too. My sister is in the kitchen wondering what’s going on. If you disappear after just arriving, she’s going to know something’s up, and she’ll become a lunatic. I don’t want her going through that. And neither should you.”
A guilt trip. Fucking great.
Vic turned to Tiny. “Did you find anything on our intruder?”
“A car key.” Tiny said. “No ID. The key is for a Honda.”
“He probably left his ID in the car, in case he got caught.” Vic angled back to Mike. “What do you want to do?”
Mike held out his hands. “I’d love for you to beat the crap out of this guy, but the risk is too high. The only thing we can do is call the cops. Tell them we caught a prowler.”
Vic’s head lopped forward. The weight of it suddenly too much for him to hold up. “The P.D.? That’s a new one.”
Mike shrugged. “Maybe they can lock him up?”
“For what? Walking across the lawn? Last I checked that wasn’t a crime.”
Even in the shadows, Vic could see the venom in Mike’s eyes. “He was carrying a weapon. One he attacked you with.”
No fucking way. “You want me to admit to the P.D. this fucker got me?”
Sure his ego was in the way, but admitting this prick had hurt him made Vic boil. Getting even didn’t involve the police.
“It’s a holiday,” Mike said. “Maybe they’ll keep him locked up for the weekend. Meantime, you call Lynx, tell him we got a suspected terrorist behind bars, and he sends the feds in to scoop the guy up.” He paused. “Maybe this asshole will give them something on Sirhan, and you’ll get your opportunity to take care of him.”
Vic scratched his head. Not what he wanted to hear, but Mikey and his sister were a lot alike when they dug in. Vic would need a fucking bulldozer to move Mike from this line of thinking. “You know anybody at the P.D. that could help us in keeping him locked up all weekend?”
All Vic really needed was the guy’s identity. He didn’t give a shit about the asshole being locked up. If Lynx could make a case, that would be fine, but it wasn’t going to happen in a few days, and the asshole would probably post bond anyway. Whether the guy was in jail or not, Vic would find a way to get satisfaction.
“Rox knows the police chief,” Mike said, “but I’m not sure how I feel about her being involved.”
“All she’d have to do is make a call, but I see your point. Maybe there’s another way.”
“Let me talk to her about it. Knowing her, she’ll want to help.”
Vic heard a car pull in and the sound had his ears pounding. He whirled around ready for battle again but saw Duck and Billy getting out of a truck. He bent over, hands on his thighs, laughing at himself for being so fucking strung out he’d turned into a pussy. Despite that, a plan took shape.
He straightened and whapped Tiny’s arm. “I want to know who this guy is. I’m betting he parked his car around the neighborhood and walked up. You and Duck locate that Honda. It’s probably a beater like Conlin’s. It shouldn’t be hard to find in this swanky neighborhood. Leave the key so our friend doesn’t tell the cops we took it. Take the slim-jim from my truck.” He looked at Mike. “Can we give them a ten-minute head start before we call the cops?”
A vision of Tiny and Duck breaking into thirty Hondas parked on the street went through Vic’s mind. It would be his luck.
“Take fifteen,” Mike said, trying to lighten the mood. “I’ll tell the P.D. to come in quietly. Let’s not scare the shit out of everybody.”
“Good idea,” Vic said, hoping they’d find some sort of ID for this pain in the ass.
Mike gestured toward the house. “Gina’s having fits in there. She saw you barrel down the stairs and interrogated me.”
“I’ll talk to her.”
Seeming to be satisfied with that lame answer, Mike nodded. “Who’s got a suture kit to stitch you up?”
“I don’t know. Billy’s our best bet.”
“Well, that’ll suck.”
“Not as much as facing your sister.”
“My God!” Gina said when Vic came through the patio door, his shirt soaked in blood.
They’d been out there long enough for her to guess something went wrong. Now she knew it to be true.
Vic held up his hands. “Don’t spaz.”
Don’t spaz? He had to be kidding. She went to him and reached for his shirt, but he stopped her. “What happened?”
Not knowing what else to do with her hands, she shoved them in the pockets of the shorts she’d thrown on before coming downstairs.
“It’s just a cut. No big deal. Billy will stitch me up.”
Michael stepped into the house behind Vic and raised his eyebrows. Someone better tell her what the hell was going on.
“Who’s outside?”
Vic sighed, rubbed his hands over his face. “We caught a prowler. He’s one of Sirhan’s men. The cops are on their way.”
Prowler. Sirhan. A wave of panic seized her and she inched to the arm of the couch. Sirhan getting this close meant he was good. He almost got to her children.
Michael grabbed her arm. “You okay?”
She yanked her arm free. “Of course I’m not okay. My children are upstairs sleeping and Vic walks in here all bloody. Am I supposed to be okay?”
Michael, clearly out of patience with the situation, growled. “All yours, Vic. I have to tell Roxann what’s going on. It’s her house too.”
She pointed at Vic. “You need to go to the hospital.”
“Uh, that’s a big negative. Hospitals ask questions.”
Monk opened the patio door and stuck his head in. “Where’s Mike? Cops just pulled in.”
“Upstairs,” Vic said. “I’ll send him out.” He turned back to Gina. “We have to talk to the cops for a few minutes, and then Billy will stitch me up.”
“The police will send you to the hospital.”
Vic nodded. “They’ll try and I’ll refuse. I don’t like hospitals. They take too long and people die there. Besides, it’s just a scrape.”
“Were you stabbed?”
“Not exactly.”
The couch shifted and the whooshing came back. Seeing him wounded paralyzed her. Another man she cared about had gotten hurt. She swallowed the bile building in her throat. Throwing up was not an option. “Where’s the knife?”
“Monk’s keeping an eye on it outside.” Vic walked to the bottom of the stairs. “Cops are here,” he said to Michael as he came downstairs.
“Fine.” Michael glanced at her as he strode by. “Stay inside.”
Great. She’d just sit here and stew until they came back. Who the hell was out there? She folded her arms, quite sure her
ears would pop off from the steam whistling through them.
Thirty minutes later, Vic came in, slid her a sideways glimpse and walked right past. Ignoring her? What the hell?
She followed him, doing double time to keep up with his long strides to the basement. “If you were stabbed, you need to go the hospital.”
“I wasn’t stabbed. He sliced me. I knocked the knife out of his hand before he could do any real damage. Please calm down.”
Calm down? “Don’t tell me to calm down.”
He reached the bottom of the stairs and spun toward her. His eyes sparked with malice.
“Tell me what I can say to make you feel better about this.”
She jerked back and he began prowling the basement.
“I can’t fight with you anymore tonight,” he yelled. “I’m trying to manage this and you are in the way.”
The harsh words blasted her. No. No. No. She would not let herself get involved with him and this crazy life. It could get worse and that was a movie she’d seen before.
She poked him in the chest. “You don’t get to talk to me that way. Not when I care what happens to you. And frankly, I’m beginning to wonder why I do care. Damn you.”
“Hey.” Billy tore down the steps with a canvas bag in his hand. “Take it easy. You’ll wake everyone up.”
“You got a suture kit in there?” Vic asked. He fisted and released his hands. The usual time-out thing he did when mad.
“Of course.” Billy glanced around the room. “Where do you want to do this?”
“The floor. I don’t want to get blood on anything. Let me get a blanket so we don’t mess up the carpet.”
“I’ll get it.” Gina needed her own time-out from this suffocating environment.
She went upstairs, grabbed a blanket off the couch and headed back down. How did she get herself into this? Had she learned nothing from Danny’s death? She’d let herself believe Vic not being on the road kept him safe, but this was his life. The dark side followed him. Stupid, stupid woman. And the worst of it was she’d fallen in love with him.
When she returned, the two of them were speaking in low voices. Billy, on his knees, pulled medical supplies from his bag. Good God. He really intended on doing this in Michael’s basement.
She set the blanket over the thick beige carpet. “He needs to go to the hospital.”
Billy pulled his shoulder-length hair into a ponytail. “Nah. It’s only the skin and subcutaneous tissue.”
When Vic pulled off his shirt, Gina got a glimpse of the nasty wound. Dried blood had already formed around it as fresh blood continued to spill over.
“Why don’t you go upstairs?” Vic asked, clearly wanting to be rid of her.
She squared her shoulders. Screw him being mad. He had no idea the go around they’d have. “You could get an infection.”
“Yeah, at the hospital.”
Anger rocketed through her. He could be such a bastard. “Damn you.”
They glared at each other for a long minute. Two stubborn people battling it out. Vic finally jerked his head at Billy. “Give us a minute.”
“No problem. I’ll get some ice to numb you up.”
They waited for the basement door to close and Vic stepped in front of her. “You gotta help me here. I’m trying to see this from your perspective, and it must look bad, but it’s not. This is what we do. Billy has stitched me up plenty of times.”
At his business-as-usual demeanor, she began to wonder if she’d overreacted to the situation. No. Uh-uh. He might have been accustomed to this, but she wasn’t. Trying to breathe in some of his calm energy, she reached out and ran a finger down the side of his rock-hard stomach. “It’s bad. A doctor should check it.”
Then he did it. He smiled that crooked player smile. The devastating one. He cupped her cheeks in his big hands and kissed her. Just a slow, gliding kiss that made her heart hammer.
Distracting her.
No. She stiffened against the warmth of the kiss.
“Trust me this time,” he said backing away an inch.
Ouch. That hurt. Particularly after their earlier argument. Boy, oh, boy, this man knew how to manipulate a situation.
Something ripped in her chest and she blinked back the tears forming in her eyes.
He swiped at the tears with his thumb. “I know what this is about. I’m not going to die on you. You’ll probably kill me before my job does.”
She couldn’t resist laughing. “Most likely.”
He leaned down, kissed her again. “I’m fine. The kids are fine. The bad guy is going to jail, and we’ve got a plan. We’re a lot better off than we were a few hours ago.”
From the top of the stairs, Billy asked, “Can I come back?”
Vic tilted his head at her and she nodded. “Yeah, we’re good,” he said.
Had she just allowed herself to be talked down? Without a fight? Pathetic. And knowing how much she wanted Vic in her life, she’d probably let it happen again.
No. She couldn’t let herself get used to life with him. Not with his dangerous job. The risk would be too high.
For this to work out, one of them would have to make major changes and it couldn’t be her. Not with the kids involved. Vic would have to do it.
What a disaster.
“So, how did you learn to do this?” Gina asked as Billy finished off a stitch.
They knelt on either side of him in Mike’s fancy basement with the slick television and collectible movie posters. Gina, the sexy, able-bodied assistant, scrutinized the procedure while snapping on a pair of latex gloves. She’d gone from insisting he go to the hospital to being completely engaged in the process. Go figure. Women.
“I was a medic in the army,” Billy said. “I’ve done thousands of these. Vic’s been my patient a few times.”
“Shut up, Billy.” All he needed on this already fucked-up night was the telling of war stories.
“You’re very good with a needle,” she said.
Talk about a weird scenario. Someday he’d find it amusing, but right now, with Gina watching, it made him damned uncomfortable.
“Ow,” he complained when Billy started another stitch.
Billy sat back. “I can give you Lidocaine.”
As if. “Save it for something big. Put more ice on it, though.”
Gina set the ice bag on his stomach. “Are you okay?”
“He’s fine,” Billy said. “He’s not usually a baby about this stuff.”
“Finish up and then fuck off.” Vic shot Gina a glance. “I’m not done with you either. Don’t think I forgot about our little discussion earlier this evening.”
“Ooh, this sounds good. You kids have a fight?”
They both ignored the question, but Gina shifted to her right a few inches and leaned toward Vic’s face. The lemon scent of her soap did wonders to ease his discomfort.
“I didn’t think you’d forgotten about it,” she said. “I know I have to explain.”
Billy stopped suturing. “Whoa. Hold on. You screwed up?”
Oh, Jee-zus.
“I sure did,” she said.
Vic—God help him—laughed. “Gina, shut the hell up. You have no idea what you’re doing to me. I’ll never live this down.”
“Do tell,” Billy said.
“Keep suturing.”
They both shushed him.
“I’m done stitching. All I need to do is cover it.”
When Vic heard the snapping of latex he lifted his head. “You done?”
“Yep.”
Vic rolled to his side to avoid tearing a stitch and got to his feet. “Go away. I’ll clean this up.”
Billy laughed. “What? No thank-you for twenty-three of my best knots?”
“Twenty three,” Vic said. “Son of a bitch.”
“Monk?” Billy asked.
“Nailed it.”
“My man is good.”
Gina’s gaze bounced between them. “I don’t understand.”
�
��Never mind,” Vic said. “It’s a guy thing.” He pulled on the clean T-shirt he’d brought down with him as his pain-in-the-ass friend marched upstairs.
Bending over with the stitches proved to be a little harder than he thought, so he knelt and started gathering the discarded supplies. Gina, still on her knees across from him, took off her gloves.
“I’m sorry about earlier.”
He glanced at her, saw the mixture of confusion and sadness on her face. “I don’t get it. Why would you think I was with someone else?”
Her big brown eyes wandered to the floor. “Well, I didn’t want to believe it, but we’ve never talked about dating exclusively. My mind worked me over and the more I thought about it, the more I worried.”
He scooted over, put his hands on her legs. “You should have said something.”
“I didn’t know how to bring it up.”
“I’ll never lie to you. Even if it hurts. I’ll never lie.”
Gina held her hands in front of her face to shut him up. “I don’t care. Not anymore. I’m just pissed at myself for not speaking up. I always speak up, but this hit a nerve and I was scared.”
“You’re scared? I just admitted I was in a relationship for the first time in my thirty-six years.”
She laughed and tugged on his T-shirt. “I’m sorry. I should have trusted you. I do trust you. I went temporarily insane.”
He grunted. “I understand. I’m usually the insane one.”
When she leaned forward the bottom edge of her tank top brushed his arm, and he had a sudden urge to slide his hand under it. Nope. Not going there with the guys right upstairs. He kissed her and the chaos in his mind quieted. Finally, a moment of peace.
He backed away an inch. “So, to clarify, we’re not seeing other people, right? That’s what I want. If that’s not what you want, we need to talk about it. And can I just say all this talking about talking is giving me hives.”
Gina did that loud belly laugh of hers, and some of the tension in him faded. She squeezed his cheeks between her hands. “I do love you.”
Man Law Page 17
