He walked away and I heard water running in the kitchen sink. The water shut off a few seconds later then a cold cloth was pressed against the side of my face.
He hunkered down in front of me so we looked eye to eye. “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m going to release your arm so you can hold this on your cheek. If you try to get away, I’m taping you up again and I’ll just tape the cloth to your face while I’m at it.”
His voice had softened by a few degrees, which did me in. Instead of feeling the pain to my cheek or even my head, I closed my eyes in shame over my nakedness.
Warm fingers smoothed over my bruised cheek. “This is too fucking much.” His warmth disappeared.
I slowly opened my eyes, but he was no longer in the room. A moment later, he walked back in and placed a towel over the front of me. My lips trembled and, though I fought against it, more tears streamed down my face.
He went to his knees and slit the tape then pressed a cool wet cloth into my hand. “Put it on your cheek.” He stood and walked a few feet away, but came back quickly with another cloth, which he used to wipe the rest of my face. His gentleness opened the floodgates and I couldn’t stop the steady flow of tears pouring out of my eyes. I tried concentrating on the pain from my cheek to help control my emotions, but it wasn’t working. His blue eyes filled with something I couldn’t describe.
“You need to start talking and tell me what the hell is going on.” His voice no longer held anger, but the deep gravelly sound caused me to re-clench my thighs. I couldn’t believe the reaction I was having to him, because there was no way I could trust him not to seriously hurt me.
I lowered my gaze, unable to look at his beautiful face. “Are you going to rape me, or kill me, or…or both?” My voice quivered.
“Fuck.” He touched my chin, tilting my head up so I had to look at him.
No smile on his gorgeous lips, but his mouth softened. His full bottom lip caught my attention and I stared until his fingers brought my chin up higher. His eyes were striking with long sweeping lashes that didn’t belong on a man.
“You haven’t managed to bring out my best side. I definitely won’t rape you—skinny twenty year olds aren’t my thing. Killing you has too many disadvantages.” He actually smiled before continuing. “I’ve never disposed of a body and I like my life outside of a jail cell. But I do need answers and you’ll give them or we’ll go back to shame and degradation since that seems to be your worst fear. Now it’s time for me to ask questions and you to answer.” His smile disappeared. “Someone tried to break in a few days ago. Was that you?”
I had no idea who, only why. “No.”
A hard edge entered his voice and I could tell he didn’t believe me. “It’s quite a coincidence.”
He continued holding my chin and I shifted just my eyes away from him. “It’s not a coincidence.”
“Then what is it?”
My gaze zeroed in on his again. “Your balls.”
For just a moment, he appeared shocked, but then his lips tipped up at the corners and my face flushed when I realized what I said.
“Your autographed balls,” I explained.
The smile disappeared. He looked stunned. “The ones my father left me?”
I didn’t know how he’d gained his collection of autographed baseballs other than he played professionally. If his father left him the balls, then his father must be dead, and by his darkening expression, my life might be back on the line. Damn, I should have kept my mouth shut.
“I’m sorry.” And I truly was.
“Not sorry enough.” The angry edge was back in his voice.
He let me go, reached up to the counter, and picked up my I.D. card. He carried it to the phone. I figured he was calling the police to pick me up.
He dialed. When he spoke, his deep voice sounded so different from the tone he used with me. It was relaxed and easy going. “Hey, Derrick. Is your ass still on duty?”
He listened for a moment before continuing. “I need you to run a name for me.”
Silence.
“Yes, I know you can get in a lot of trouble.”
More silence.
“Yes or no, Derrick, this is important or I wouldn’t ask.”
After a very short hesitation, he read the information from my I.D. card aloud.
“Thank you, I’ll wait.”
He turned to me and watched with unreadable eyes as the minutes ticked by. His gaze left me when he started listening to his cop friend again. I wasn’t stupid, even if Mr. Baseball thought I was. Tonight I was just very unlucky.
“I appreciate this. I’ll have tickets for opening day sent to your house.”
He listened for another minute before saying goodbye and putting the phone down.
“Start talking.”
Oops. He didn’t like whatever it was that he found out, which was strange. I wasn’t a criminal, didn’t even have parking or speeding tickets. That would require a car, which I didn’t have either.
I lifted my head higher, the ache in my cheek increasing with the movement. “I can’t.”
He walked closer and I could see anger tightening his features. “Oh, I think you can.”
I looked down, biting my lip. He would never understand. We came from two different worlds.
Surprisingly, his touch was gentle as he pulled the cloth away from my cheek. “You’re going to have a shiner.”
I couldn’t keep the belligerence out of my voice. “I’m sure I’ll get more in jail.”
“You won’t get that lucky.”
My heart started beating faster. “What do you mean?”
“It’s simple. You’re staying here until you tell me everything. I’ll give you some incentive if you need it. Maybe strip the rest of your clothes off and tie you back to the chair.”
He was crazy. He couldn’t do that. It broke more laws than me burglarizing his house. I looked deep into his eyes and realized he didn’t care. Baseball’s golden boy, Reed Tyler, could do whatever he wanted.
Chapter Three
I breathed in slowly through my stuffy nose, thinking about the people I would hurt if I said anything. “If I tell you, innocent people will pay for my stupidity.”
He moved away and turned another chair around so he straddled it, the bulge in his jeans still evident. The fact that he looked entirely too good sitting that way made me feel warm all over. There was something seriously wrong with me. No guy had ever affected me this way. If you added the situation into the mix, it was pure insanity to notice what he looked like. But hell was he hot.
He interfered with my dreamy thoughts. “You should have considered the consequences before you broke into my house.”
The words brought me back to reality and shame replaced the desire to run my fingers across his perfect abs. I couldn’t control my stuttered response. “I did consider them just…just not this one.” I looked away but quickly turned back. “I’d rather go to jail.”
His intense glare almost burned through me. “I told you that’s not an option.” He continued, but his gritted teeth made the words harsher. “Will the burglaries stop if you go to jail?”
I squeezed my eyes closed, praying for some type of intervention, but when I opened them he continued to scowl at me.
I was so screwed, but I answered honestly. “No, they won’t stop. But if I tell you the truth, my sister and brother will be the ones to pay. They’re only kids. It doesn’t matter what you do to me, I can’t say anything.”
He remained quiet for several long minutes.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”
Maybe I was getting through to him. “The only thing I have to worry about now…” I pulled the towel tighter across my chest, “is causing danger to my sister and brother.”
“What if I have the balls moved to another location?”
I took a moment to think about it. “That might work as long as you made a big deal and got some media attention.”
He scratche
d the scruffy stubble on his face. “Why would someone want my balls?” His sexy grin flashed. “To me they’re priceless, but really each one isn’t worth more than a few grand, if that.”
They had to be worth a lot more. The price offered for them was three times that much.
“You’re lying.”
His eyes hardened. “Why would I lie? I don’t think you believed me when I said I would keep you in that chair naked until you start talking.”
He stood and picked up the tape again.
This was it. I gave him a resigned look knowing I could do nothing. I couldn’t spill any more information.
He took the cloth out of my hand and laid it on the counter. When he secured my hand to the chair, I refused to look up. The towel slipped off, baring my chest. He unsnapped the top of my shorts before slitting the very bottom of the corner seam with the knife. I didn’t flinch or say a word, only closed my eyes in resignation.
“Fuck. You’re not going to talk are you?”
I opened my eyes and his face was only inches from mine. Completely defeated, I whispered, “I can’t.”
He grabbed the towel and tossed it over my chest again. He’d been bluffing. I let out a huge breath and watched him leave the room. He returned a few minutes later wearing a shirt and carrying sweatpants and a t-shirt. He cut the tape and waited for me to peel it completely off my skin.
“Put these on.”
I put the shirt on first, slipped my tennis shoes off, and pulled the pants over my shorts. They were too big, but I didn’t care. They covered me. After slipping my shoes on, I watched as he grabbed keys out of a small basket on the counter.
“I’m taking you to the address on your I.D. card. Is that where you live?”
He couldn’t be serious. “Yes, it’s where I live, but I don’t understand.”
He rubbed his hand over his chin. “According to your I.D., you’re twenty years old. I don’t think felony breaking and entering is your only gig or you’d have a criminal record. I have no idea why my balls are so popular at the moment, but even though they mean a lot to me, I’m not sending you to jail because of them.”
I couldn’t help the small, relieved half-laugh half-cry that escaped my lips.
His gaze softened. “Do you think my balls are safe while we’re gone?”
I couldn’t help when my eyes dropped to his crotch. “Probably not.”
He barked out a laugh. “Well then, we’ll just take them with us.”
After he gathered his Plexiglas-encased autographed balls, he placed them in a shoebox. I followed him out to his car in a daze. He opened my door, but stopped me from getting in with a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Reed Tyler.”
“I know who you are.” I said using my bitchy voice. I exhaled. I wasn’t out of danger of going to jail yet, so I tried again. “Sorry. I’m Jaycee Shumway.”
He released me and walked around, folding himself into the driver’s seat. I wasn’t sure what type of a car this was, but I knew it was expensive. The engine roared loudly and the tires screeched when he pulled out of the driveway into the street.
“How did you get to my house?”
“The bus.”
“You took a bus to my house to rob me?”
I turned without answering and looked out the side window.
He didn’t give it a rest. “I wasn’t aware there were any bus stops near here.”
“I walked the rest of the way. Why are you doing this?”
His voice went lower. “Taking you home?”
“Yes, taking me home, not calling the police, being nice?”
A small chuckle escaped him. “I wasn’t feeling nice a while ago, but I have a question for you.”
I knew he would ask me ‘who’ again, so I didn’t say anything. He surprised me, though.
“Why?”
I didn’t hesitate. “For the money.”
“If burglary’s the way you make your living, you’re not very good at it.”
I couldn’t help my snarky reply. “It was my first time, but I’m sure I’ll get better with practice.”
“That’s a scary thought. You might want to try a real job.” Condemnation dripped from his voice.
Anger laced mine. “I do have a real job. I work at Tasty Burger.”
His laughter exploded into the car. I tried not to let it hurt my pride. After being stripped practically naked by him, I had very little left. He didn’t say anything until we entered my section of town. The rundown houses were actually considered the upper-class area. Five minutes later, I told him to pull into a small, decrepit trailer park.
“You live here?”
“Yes. It’s the fifth one on the right.”
The travel trailer was dark and there were no streetlights, so the entire area looked sinister. Who was I kidding? It was sinister and that’s why I almost landed in jail.
The car stopped and he turned off the loud engine. My hand went to the door handle as I looked at his profile. “I still don’t understand why you did this, but thank you.”
The headlights were still on and Reed looked out through the windshield. I followed the direction of his gaze and saw my little sister’s cat pacing in front of the trailer door.
“Umm, that’s Don Gato.”
“Is he yours?”
“My sister’s.”
He wasn’t good at hiding the shock in his voice. “You live here with your parents?”
“No.” We lived in a one-room travel trailer and it was nothing to be proud of. “I’m the only mother she has.”
“How old is she?”
“Six.”
His head jerked in my direction. Though I couldn’t see his face in the dark, I could hear the censure in his voice. “You left your six-year-old sister here while you were out committing a felony?”
Chapter Four
I shouldn’t have said anything more, but him thinking I’d leave my sister made me angry. “My brother’s inside too; he’s fifteen. I work some days and some nights; whenever I can get the hours. It’s not ideal, but it’s our only choice. My brother is very responsible.” I spoke so fast, my words tumbled together.
Reed gave a loud sigh. “Fuck.”
I did have some pride left because it came flaring back to life. “Don’t fucking pity us.”
I threw open my door and so did he. He followed me up to the door and Don Gato rubbed against his pant leg.
Traitor.
I was back in my territory and feeling stronger. “You need to leave now.”
“I’m coming inside.”
“No.”
“Yes.” There was steel in his voice.
“You’ll upset my brother.”
“Too fucking bad. Open the door.”
It pissed me off, but I had little choice. I knocked on the door. The small curtain to the right of the door moved aside. An inside light came on and a slight thump sounded when Jon lifted the two-by-four barring the door. Our lock broke a few months ago, so I’d bought a padlock for the outside when we were away and hardware to hold the wood in front of the door when we were inside.
I walked up the two metal steps. Reed followed. Don Gato scampered past us and ran to the back. He liked to snuggle with my sister, Bitsy, at night.
Jon stood inside the door dressed in his boxers. He was skinny and tall, though he’d just begun filling out some. When dressed, most people looked at Jon with contempt. He’d adopted a Goth persona; the entire black underlord thing, including makeup. But he was my brother and he could do just about anything and I’d love him. I saw his body stiffen when he looked at Reed.
“Jon, this is Mr. Tyler.”
Reed put out his hand. “Please call me Reed.”
Jon looked down at Reed’s hand and I could actually see the minute his sleepy brain processed the full name. His head jerked up as he looked closely at our guest.
“You’re Reed Tyler.” Jon’s voice cracked on th
e last name.
“Yes. Are you going to shake my hand or should I put it down?” Reed said with humor.
Jon’s hand shot out and he shook hands with one of his idols. I’m sure Reed was used to it, but I knew Jon would never forget this moment. Even Goth kids could like sports, and Jon loved baseball. When he released Reed’s hand, Jon immediately picked up his pants from the end of the couch and quickly pulled them on.
“Did Bitsy sleep okay?”
“Yes, umm, she hasn’t woken up. I fell asleep a few hours ago.”
I saw Reed looking around the small space. Piles of books sat on the small foldout dinette, and there were a few boxes of food and a toaster on the three-foot-long counter. Bedding covered the couch because it’s where Jon slept. I slept in a double bed with my sister. Our home was a far cry from Reed’s mansion.
“You follow baseball, Jon?”
“Sometimes.” Jon wasn’t giving anything away. He might know Reed was famous, and worship the player, but that didn’t make his baseball idol a good person. In our small dirt-poor world, we learned quickly to distrust everyone.
Reed smiled. “I don’t see a television. Do you have one in the back?”
I noticed the redness creeping up my brother’s face. “No. If I have time, I listen to the games on the radio.”
Reed rubbed his jaw and I realized he did it when he wasn’t sure what to think or say. “Do you play?”
“No…well, in the street around here I have, but I don’t play on a team.”
Teams cost money and it should be obvious by our surroundings that we didn’t have money.
“Jon has school in the morning and he needs to sleep, Mr. Tyler.”
“I think you should call me Reed.”
I didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t matter what I called him because in a few minutes, I would never see him again.
“Whose school books are those?”
Jon didn’t give me a chance to answer. “A few are mine.” He left it at that.
Reed stepped closer to the table and looked at the titles.
Strike (Completion Series) Page 2
