Living Fast: Steele Ridge Series

by Adrienne Giordano

  “You're safe now,” he said. “Please sit up. Just so we can get a look at you.”

  But she wasn't moving. Not until… “Is he gone? I don't want to look at him.”

  Because, like Reid, she might kill him. Or better yet, kick him in the balls. Hard. Hard enough to put him out of action for a good long time. She'd grab that knife she'd wanted to use as a weapon and chop his dick off. Chop it off and shove it down the disposal. No reattachment possible.

  “He's gone,” Reid said. “Probably already in lockup. You're safe. I promise you, you're safe.”

  She believed him. If she couldn't do it on her own, he'd keep her safe, she knew that about him already. If he could, he'd help her. No matter what.

  He'd more than proved that. Even if he didn't want to be in Steele Ridge, he'd help her.

  She released her aching hands. The pressure. Too much. She'd held too tight and made the muscles sore. Pushing to all fours, she stared down at her fingers where blood rushed back, turning them their normal color rather than the washed-out white from clenching too hard.

  I'm safe.

  “You're okay, Brynne,” Maggie said. “It's just Reid and I in here.”

  Brynne nodded. “Thank you.”

  Reid squatted next to her. “Can I help you up?”

  “No. I need to do it.”

  For herself. Just to prove she could.

  “You got it.” He made a move to stand, but she reached for him and gripped his arm. What was it she wanted from him? Did she even know?

  She needed to rise on her own, without his help, but she wanted him close. Because heaven help her, something about Reid Steele made her not want to be alone. “Don't go.”

  “Staying right here. Whatever you need.”

  Squatting must have been killing his bad knee. Still, he stayed there, not moving simply because she'd asked.

  “Let's stand up,” she said.

  With her hanging on to him, they both got to their feet and Reid motioned her backward, toward the bed.

  Not there. She whipped her head back and forth, panic kicking in again. Her own bedroom and she couldn't be here. “Not here,” she said. “I…can't.”

  Maggie pointed to the door. “Living room. Get her out of this room.”

  God. Her own bedroom, in her crappy little apartment that she was so proud of because it was hers. A place she'd rented on her own, way before the wicked in-laws had paid her to go away.

  And now she couldn't be in it.

  She left the room, walked right out and didn't bother to look back. At the end of the hallway she turned left, faced the living room. Something pinged in her chest and her breath caught. Ahead, the sheer curtain did little to veil the building across the street.

  “Brynne?”

  Reid's voice. She whipped back to him, her oxygen still caught.

  Can't.

  Breathe.

  After three long seconds he hauled her toward the back door. “Outside,” he said. “You need fresh air.”

  Yes.

  “I…can't….Chest…hurts.”

  “It's a panic attack. Try to breathe. Slowly.”

  He opened the door, pushed her outside on the porch, and planted himself in front of her. “You're safe now. I promise you, nothing will hurt you again. Do you hear me?”

  Nothing would hurt.

  “Brynne? Did you hear me?”

  She nodded. Opened her mouth. Breathe. Her chest pinged again and a rush of oxygen—all that caged air breaking free—made her a little loopy.

  “There you go,” he said. “Not too fast or you'll pass out. Slow, even breaths.”

  He stayed focused on her, refusing to look away, and those darned eyes, the darkest blue she'd ever seen, undid her. Just steady and solid and…comforting.

  Maggie stepped onto the landing. “Do we need that ambulance?”

  Not an ambulance, but looking at Reid, knowing he was a wild card and not caring, made her think that she might require a shrink, because the five-year plan was cooked. “No,” Brynne said. “I'm okay. Just needed air.”

  And the annoying alpha.

  Maggie nodded. “Understandable. Can you tell me what happened?”

  Reid ducked back into the kitchen, came out with one of her table chairs, and set it in the corner of the porch. Away from the steps.

  “Sit,” he said. “You need a blanket?”

  “Blanket?”

  “You're shivering.”

  She glanced down at her hands. Trembling. Huh. She hadn't realized. She squeezed her fingers closed, let her nails dig into the soft skin of her palms. You're okay, girl.

  Considering what could have happened, yes, she was definitely okay.

  She dropped into the chair and Reid disappeared again, returning a minute later with a blanket he set over her shoulders.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I'm…uh…gonna wait downstairs. Give you some privacy while you talk to Mags.”

  He took two steps and the flutter of panic started again. “Wait,” she said. “Don't go.”

  “No?”

  “No.” She held out her hand, waited for him to grab hold. “Stay here. Please.”

  Maggie set her hand on the porch rail, gave it a testing shake, and leaned against it, obviously confident in its integrity.

  “The insurance company yelled at him.”

  Maggie frowned. “I'm sorry?”

  “Mr. Pippen. My landlord. The rails were loose. He had them repaired. I asked him what prompted that. He said the insurance company said they wouldn't insure him if he didn't fix them.”

  “Ha!” Reid said. “That cheap bastard. If the insurance company hadn't threatened him, he'd have let someone fall two stories.”

  Maggie slid the notepad Brynne had given her from her pocket. Who knew she'd be using it to take a victim's statement from Brynne?

  “Tell me what happened.”

  “I came upstairs to get my deposit slips. I don't keep them in the shop. They're in my bedroom. I walked in and found him.” She stopped, closed her eyes, pictured her assailant in front of her dresser, the drawer pulled open. “He was—” She waved a hand.

  “Take your time.”

  “Masturbating.”

  * * *

  That fucker.

  The pressure in Reid's skull should have blown his eyeballs out, but this wasn't about him. He glanced down at Brynne and she immediately pulled her gaze away, staring straight ahead.

  “He was just standing there,” she said. “In front of my open underwear drawer.”

  Fucker.

  Fucker.

  Fucker.

  Total dead man. He bit down, gritting his teeth so hard pain shot through his jaw.

  Maggie shot him a look. In response he offered up a sarcastic don't-worry-I-won't-kill-him grin.

  At least today he wouldn't kill him.

  If the guy walked, all bets were off.

  “I was so shocked, I ran. He caught me in the kitchen.” She gripped a hunk of her hair. “Grabbed me and dragged me to the bedroom.”

  Fucker, fucker, fucker. And, yeah, this was just getting worse.

  But she didn't need him getting all pissed off. Not now. She needed him to channel calm Reid. The warrior who contained his emotions and thought logically when surrounded by chaos. That's who she needed.

  He squatted down next to her and clasped her hand. The corner of her mouth lifted into a pathetic smile. She pushed her free hand through his hair and patted his head.

  Yeah, she'd figured out he didn't like hearing this. As hard as he'd tried to slap on his nothing-face, she'd tagged him.

  Twenty-four years old, experiencing the worst days a person could, and she was giving him comfort?

  “I think you're amazing,” he said. “Just so you know.”

  At that, she really let loose on a smile. The full wide lips, eyes dancing one, and an enormous pressure built in his chest. Stay. Whoa. For years he'd wanted to
be out of this place, now all of a sudden all he wanted was to stay and make this girl smile like that every damned day.

  Throwing her shoulders back, she filled in the details of what she remembered while Reid squatted next to her. His knee barked like a mother, but he refused to move. If it took three hours, he wouldn't move, wouldn't break her momentum. Getting it all out was key. Then they'd deal with next steps.

  When Brynne got to the part about the guy wanting a phone, Mags stopped jotting notes. “What phone? Nelson's?”

  Brynne shrugged. “I don't know. I guess. He didn't say.”

  Mags shot Reid a WTF look. “All right. I'll send the phone to the state lab. See if they can find anything. Maybe there are hidden files or something. Can you think of anything else?”

  “About the phone?”

  “Regarding anything, but yeah, that phone. First Ed Wayne's number and now someone breaking into your shop and your apartment. It seems that phone is in the center of this.”

  “There's nothing. Nelson never, ever gave me reason to think he was doing anything dangerous. He was just…my friend.”

  Maggie touched her shoulder and squeezed. “I know. I'm sorry. If you think of anything, no matter how minor you think it is, call me. Whatever time.”

  “I will. Thank you, Maggie.”

  “You're welcome.” She tucked her notepad away. “We'll go through the apartment and do the evidence collection.”

  “Okay.”

  Finally, Reid stood, stretched out his legs and—holy mother—that knee hurt. “Can she leave?”

  Because there was no way she was staying here. Nuh-uh. Not until they figured out what the hell Nelson had roped her into.

  “Yes,” Mags said. “I'll call if I need anything else. Want me to lock up when the crime scene techs leave?”

  Brynne stood. “Yes. Please. My keys are inside.”

  She swung toward the door, took one step, then stopped, stared at the door for a few seconds.

  “Uh,” Reid said, “how about I grab them for you?”

  “Thank you. They're on the counter. I think.”

  He stuck his head in the door, spotted the keys next to a photo of her family. He swiped them up and handed them off.

  “Not to add pressure, but you'd better call your folks. The Triple B is probably already command central for speculation on what's going on here.”

  “Great. Someone probably already called my mother.”

  “Brynne!”

  Or her father.

  Shit.

  * * *

  How was it that Brynne's luck could be this bad? First the cheating husband, then the humiliation of moving home. And just when she'd started to feel more secure—more settled being on her own—she'd watched her closest friend get gunned down. Like an animal, in the street.

  She closed her eyes, tried not to think about the pain, the fear, Nelson must have experienced.

  Now? He was gone.

  Except for the questions he'd left her to grapple with.

  And, oh, yes, her father.

  She looked up at Reid. “This just gets better and better, doesn't it?”

  He blessed her with one of those Reid Steele lightning-quick smiles that could create the dreaded panty drop and Maggie sighed. Five-year plan. Five-year plan. Five-year plan.

  “Want me to run interference?”

  With her father? He'd do that for her?

  She waved at her father and mumbled. “I might. He's going to insist I go home with him. I don't want to. They'll bombard me with questions and I don't have answers.”

  “Got it.”

  Dad was halfway up the steps, his jaw set in that way that meant he was beyond listening.

  To anything.

  His eyes were on her. A fierce, protective connection she'd known all her life. A comfort to most, but there were reasons she'd left home and many of them circled around her father's unwillingness to let her make her own mistakes. To let her explore possibilities without his constant interference.

  To let her breathe.

  All of it done out of love, but sometimes love smothers. Controls.

  A good dose of Reid Steele and his stubbornness might help here.

  Dad reached the top step. “Are you all right? What happened?”

  “I'm fine, Dad. There was an intruder.”

  “What happened? Did he hurt you?”

  Yes. But she couldn't admit that. If she did, her parents would never leave her alone. “I'm fine, Dad. Reid and Maggie were right outside the store. They heard me yell and caught the guy.”

  Dad's eyes narrowed and he propped his hands on his hips. “Good. Good.” He looked at Reid, then to Maggie. “Thank you. Both of you. You arrested him?”

  “Yes, sir. I'm waiting on crime scene techs and I'll head over to deal with him.”

  Dad mopped a hand over his face, closed his eyes for a few short seconds, and Brynne noticed worry lines between his brows. “Dad, I'm okay.”

  He opened his eyes. “Your mother got the call from Ruth. I swear that woman has a police scanner. She didn't have any details and gave your mother a near heart attack. Then I tried to call you and you didn't pick up.”

  Her phone. She'd left it in the shop. “Oh, Dad, I'm so sorry. My phone is in the shop. I'd just run upstairs to grab a deposit slip and I…found him.”

  Finally, Dad stepped in, wrapped her in a giant bear hug, squeezing maybe a wee bit too hard. But, God, every daughter should feel this kind of love.

  Even when it was sometimes too much.

  “I'm okay. I promise. It was just scary.”

  “You're coming home. You can't stay here alone. I'm sorry, Brynne, I won't have it. We'll find you someplace safe to live.”

  She wouldn't bother with the argument that living half a block from the sheriff's office might be as safe as one could get.

  Even with what had just happened, she believed that. But what if…

  What if Maggie and Reid had not been nearby?

  Don't.

  Pondering those particular what-if thoughts wouldn't help.

  Dad shifted his gaze from Brynne to Maggie and finally to Reid. The two men exchanged some sort of primal male posturing that, had Brynne been in any other situation, she'd find humorous.

  Alphas. Simply extraordinary.

  “Dad, I know I worried you. I'm sorry. But really, I'm fine. Besides, I had plans with Evie tonight.”

  A lie, but her father didn't know that.

  “That's right,” Reid said. “And you know my mother loves you. You can stay out at the house with them.” He faced her father. “Mr. Snodder, we installed a security system that would blow your mind. Cameras everywhere and on-site guards. Between my mother sometimes being alone and Jonah with all his electronics, the place needed a serious security upgrade. No one gets near any of the buildings or houses without us knowing.”

  Go, Reid.

  Dad held Reid's gaze a second. What argument could he make about her being safer at home with him and Mom versus at Mrs. Steele's with all her security and her big, extremely big, bad, extremely bad, Green Beret son?

  “If I didn't think she'd be safe at my mother's, I wouldn't suggest it. Plus, I don't want to disappoint my sister. She likes spending time with Brynne. “

  “You know,” Maggie said, “I'll let y'all work this out. Brynne, after we're done processing the apartment, how about I grab you some clothes and send them up to Aunt Joanie's? In the meantime, I'll call you if I have more questions.”

  These people. So kind. “Thank you, Maggie. For everything.”

  “Absolutely.”

  “All right,” Dad said. “But if you need anything, you call me.”

  Reid held his hand out to Dad. “Sir, I promise you, I'll take care of her.”

  And, oh. My.

  What five-year plan?

  12

  By 10:30, Brynne had curled up on the couch with Evie in the command center, watching Reid and Jonah do battle in a new video game Jonah
had bought.

  Zombies aside, Brynne enjoyed watching them go at it. All that competitive, male testosterone in full load was something to be thankful for because, without a doubt, the Steele brothers had managed to help her settle down after what she'd experienced that afternoon. If nothing else, they'd provided a sense of safety. For that, she'd always be grateful.

  In the morning she'd call Maggie for more information on the man who'd attacked her and why he'd even been in her place, but for tonight she'd pretend it didn't happen.

  For a little while.

  “Dude,” Jonah said, “you're dead. Give up already.”

  “My ass, I'm dead.”

  Reid flipped Jonah the bird and glanced back at Brynne, a wicked grin on that all too handsome face. They hadn't talked about their little spat on the street earlier that day. Did they need to? Just to clear the air? It wasn't as if they were a couple, right? So they'd shared steamy hot kisses. So he'd slid his hand over her back a time or two. Affectionate men did that. Didn't always mean anything.

  Beside her, Evie let out a soft snore. The poor girl had been up late all week finishing a paper and was zonked.

  “Let her sleep,” Reid said. “She's like me. She can sleep anywhere.”

  But with the way her head drooped forward, she'd wind up with a sore neck. “She doesn't look comfortable.”

  Reid kept his eyes on the giant screen, his fingers moving fast on the controller. “Jonah, you're fucked. Brynne, Evie is fine. She'll wake up if she's not comfortable.”

  “Son of a bitch,” Jonah said.

  “Yep. Sorry, bro. I just came back to life.” He looked back at Brynne. “Stamina, babe.”

  Oh, he did not just do that in front of his brother. She laughed because, holy cow, the raw arrogance should have been annoying, but…nope.

  “Well,” she said, “at least one of us has it.” Gently, attempting not to jostle Evie, she unfolded her legs and stood. “Thank you for everything, guys. I'm turning in.”

  Reid set the controller on the floor and grabbed hold of the ends of her fingers. “You okay?”

  “I'm good. Just tired. Long couple of days.”

  “Shit, Reid.” Jonah continued to stare at the screen where his video game character sat slumped in a chair. “I thought I had you there.”