by AJ Nuest
Ah, there it was. Tanner balled up the towel and threw it in her bag. Eden had once told her more than just the regular competition to earn a spot as one of Malcolm’s top three protégés had been brewing between Xander and Adder back in the good ol’ days. It should’ve been no big surprise Charlie took center stage in that rivalry.
“No.” She laughed. “He’s as handsome as ever just… Like I said, different.” She jerked her head toward the door. “I left him having a drink in the library. Why don’t you go up and say hi?”
Easing back from her, Xander curled his top lip in a sneer. “He’s hitting the liquor at eight o’clock in the morning?”
“He just flew in from London. It’s like, one AM in his head.”
And wasn’t that so fabulous for him? Irritation landed like a hot coal in Tanner’s stomach, and she stepped into her worn canvas sneakers and shouldered the safety-pinned strap of her bag.
Adder arriving late to the party would only cause another distraction. Another delay. And exactly like Eden as the last few days before her wedding closed in, Xander would grow preoccupied with sticking by Charlie every waking second of the day.
Well, whoop-di-doo and so much for trying to make the best of a suckish situation. Stopping at the water fountain near the end of the bench, Tanner rinsed off her mouth guard and stowed it in the plastic container. Once that happened, she’d be relegated back to twiddling her thumbs between running errands for ribbons and bows.
“Now go be a polite host.” Charlie spun Xander by the shoulders and swatted his backside. “I need a little girl time with Tanner.”
Oh, God. Gritting her teeth, Tanner stopped near the nautilus equipment and turned back toward the sparring mat with a tight smile. Here it came. But by all that was holy, one more pin-stabbing dress fitting, and she would not be held accountable for her actions. “What’s up, Charlie?”
Snagging a faded, blue Margaritaville muscle shirt off the bench, Xander smacked his lips like he’d just been served the bad fish and brushed past Tanner into the hall.
“I got something I need your help with. If you’re up for it, that is.” Charlie snuck a glance at the two cadets helping the third to his feet, strode toward Tanner and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “It involves Trey, actually.”
Right. Of course, it did. And way to go straight for the jugular since Tanner wasn’t about to refuse any favor involving that poor kid.
She understood firsthand how bad things could get when families were torn apart. After hearing how Trey had been discovered locked in a closet during a narcotics bust—and the follow-up hurt of how no one had arrived at the precinct to claim him thereafter—it was obvious he’d already been through enough.
Thankfully, Eden and her fiancé, Kelly, had stepped in. Invited Trey into their hearts and petitioned the court to become his legal guardians. Over the past few weeks, they’d done everything they could to ensure a smooth transition. Slowly easing Trey from his state-appointed facility into Eden’s condo. Making sure he was comfortable in his new home.
The only snag Tanner could foresee was their honeymoon. A good dose of irony stepped forward and poked her between the brows. Kelly and Eden’s plans to take off for parts unknown the entire month were exactly what had started Tanner’s downward spiral in the first place.
So, fine. Whatever. If the kid needed a babysitter, she’d help out. God knew, her screwed-up circumstances weren’t Trey’s fault, and she had enough experience playing mom to three wild hooligans, watching out for him wouldn’t be a big deal.
“Here’s the thing.” Guiding Tanner toward the exit, Charlie walked them into the corridor. “I’ve spent past couple weeks getting to know Trey a little better, and during dinner last night I finally got him to open up about what happened to his parents.”
O-o-kay? Hope sparked in Tanner’s chest, but she quickly batted at that ember before it had the chance to take hold. After an entire year of learning the ropes from Eden, she knew better than to assume anything when it came to the folks from Dirty Deeds.
“They were gunned down, Tanner. Standing right in front of him and in broad daylight, no less. I swear, listening to that kid describe what he’s been through broke my heart.” The sigh that parted Charlie’s lips was soft, but filled with such intense heartbreak Tanner wanted to shove her own shoulder for being such a self-absorbed shit.
Time she snap out of her pity party. If there was one lesson life had taught her, things could get worse. They could always, always get worse.
Charlie brought them to a stop near the back entrance to the garage and released Tanner’s shoulders, keeping her voice low. “When Xander saw how upset I got, he asked a friend of ours to do a little digging, and I can’t say either of us were all that surprised to learn Trey’s parents were innocent victims in one of those senseless wrong-place, wrong-time sort of things.”
A weird numbness inched up Tanner’s legs, as if she’d just waded knee-deep into an Arctic lake. Dear God, if Charlie kept heading in the direction Tanner thought she was heading…
She swallowed at the dryness in her throat.
“To make matters worse, apparently everyone who witnessed the crime has come down with a chronic case of amnesia. Probably coerced into keeping their mouths shut, if I had to guess. But the thing that really pisses me off is how the killers are still out there somewhere, roaming the streets.” Crossing her arms, Charlie lifted a calculating brow. “I don’t want this to sit, but with me and Xander getting hitched as soon as Eden and Kelly get back, I can’t afford to get mixed up in any shenanigans.” She gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “And can you imagine what Xander would say if I suggested the two of us take on a bunch of gun runners? I might as well ask if we can honeymoon in North Korea. And yet, I can’t stand the thought of letting those assholes get away with stealing Trey’s family. He deserves better than that, Tanner. In fact, he deserves the best we got. So, I talked it over with Eden and we both agreed. The best we got is you.”
Tanner’s eyelids slammed shut. For a few ridiculous heartbeats, she fought the throat-clogging ache of girly tears. Finally. Finally, finally after an eight-year struggle, she was about to take the first real step in winning her own uphill battle.
“Oh my God, Charlie. Do you have any idea how much this means to me?” And not only because of Charlie and Eden’s faith in her abilities.
If she was successful—and nothing on hell or Earth was going to stop Tanner from making damn sure she was—settling the score for the murder of Trey’s parents would lead to so much more. So, so, so much more.
“There’s just one thing.”
Tanner blinked, and then braced at the confusing twinkle skipping through Charlie’s mesmerizing eyes. Part desperation, a good dose of worry…and a sharp glint of hanky-panky that had Tanner prepping to sprint for the first semi-automatic she could yank off the wall in the gun range. “Which is?”
“This friend I mentioned?” Charlie grimaced. “It’s Ben Archer.”
Shit. Tanner tossed her head back in a lame attempt at searching the ceiling for how in the hell that was supposed to work. Dammit, not him. Anyone, but him. The bull-headed detective had had it out for her since day one.
“We need someone on the inside for this, Tanner.” Charlie clasped her shoulder and Tanner lowered her chin, doing everything in her power to keep her irritation in check. To stop a growl from forming behind her clenched teeth. “Someone who can scour the police database without raising any red flags.”
And the fact Charlie was about to marry the most brilliant hackerist known to man? Please. It’d taken Xander less than two hours to punch a hole through the FBI database and they both knew it.
“So you and Eden decided to pair me with him, huh?” Tanner crossed her arms right back. And the oh-so-clever sparkle in Charlie’s eyes? That certainly wrapped up any delusions about where this little scheme of theirs was headed. “On the case, I mean. You’re pairing me with Archer on the case.”
Wink-wink, nudge-nudge. And hella good luck with that plan.
Regardless of the zero-escape clause Charlie had just slapped on the table, Tanner wasn’t about to get personal with that nutter. The guy already believed her incapable, and the real kicker was how he’d based his decision on nothing more than her age.
God, the entire thing was moronic. Ben Archer didn’t have the first clue what she was made of. How tough her life had been or how strong she’d become as a result of her struggles.
Not that she cared. The guy could flex that rock-hard body of his as much as he wanted. She wasn’t about to let him muscle her around.
In fact… Narrowing her gaze, Tanner chewed the inside of her cheek. If she absolutely had to work with the guy, it would probably serve her purposes much better to play it as cool and slick as a block of ice. No matter how much he baited her or acted like she was some inexperienced newb, she wouldn’t crack.
And then she’d show that chauvinistic Fred Flintstone exactly where he could stick his opinions by getting the job done. Without his help, if necessary. Behind his back while he stomped around, grumbling and complaining she was too young to take on such a dangerous profession.
Oh, hello. Now there was some serious good-time revenge.
An evil smile tugged one corner of her lips, and Tanner didn’t even bother to try and hide it. “On second thought, you know what? I’m actually looking forward to this.” In more ways than one. “Mark my words, Char-bar. Before I’m done with him, Detective Holier-Than-Thou is gonna get a solid taste of what it’s like to be knocked down a peg or two.”
“There’s my girl.” A wicked twinkle skipped through Charlie’s gaze. “I like your style.”
A couple deep grunts echoed behind them, and she tipped to the side to peek over Tanner’s shoulder. Following her gaze, Tanner turned to find the three recruits helping one another up the stairs.
“I’ll getcha everything once Adder’s settled in.” Linking her arm through Tanner’s, Charlie started them toward the steps. “And if I may, just one first and last piece of advice?” She stopped and slid a sidelong glance at Tanner, then swiveled her head to search Tanner’s face. “Sweetie, the next time you’re looking for something to do…” Squeezing her eyes closed, she shook her head. “Do yourself a favor and don’t ask the guys.”
Tanner’s shoulders fell.
They knew. All this time, Charlie and Eden had known she was crawling out of her skin.
“God, I’m stupid.” Tanner smacked her hand to her forehead. “And to top it all off, I broke the first rule of Fight Club. Sisters before misters.”
Charlie laughed. “You’re gonna be all right, Tanner Jones. Now, come on.” Cinching Tanner’s arm against her waist, Charlie walked them down the hall. “We’d better get upstairs before Xander and Adder get into some stupid pissing contest, and the two of them end up coming to blows.”
Chapter 2
The entire thing could be summed up in two words. Total and bullshit.
Molars cranked hard enough to leave a dental impression on his dog tags, narcotics detective Ben Archer roared into the drive of Smith Manor and stomped on the brakes of his cherry-red Ford Raptor.
What in the hell could the woman be thinking? Messing with her safety was a game?
A thin layer of frost flaked off the rubber seal as he jabbed the button to lower the driver’s side window. Fighting the seatbelt, he leaned into a wall of blinding snow and blinked as flakes swirled and caught in his lashes.
Apparently so, considering all the evidence he needed was crammed inside the pocket of his leather jacket.
Tapping his personal access code into the panel, he shook off the ice chips that ticked against the leather cords stacked along his wrist. A hawkish wind tugged at the cow-licked sprig of hair over his right brow, and he squinted as a piercing green line swept the identifying thumbprint he pressed against the scanner.
Kill Bill Sign-Up Sheet. His nostrils flared.
Whatever dickhead had come up with that title, they’d just volunteered to have the knuckles of his right hand permanently imprinted on their face. Screwing with anyone inside the Dirty Deeds family was a non-option. Especially when it came to a bunch of first-year recruits looking to compare dick size in some jacked-up street fighting competition.
The wrought-iron gate swung open, and he gunned the engine as soon as he could slip past the latch without scraping the chrome off his side mirrors. Raising the window, he shot a scowl at the steady swivel of the security cameras tracking his progress up the drive.
The second he’d shown up at the precinct and found those snickering little pricks crowded around the bulletin board, he’d known they were up to no good. And like a complete idiot, he’d stood there frowning at the long list of scratched-out names, one ear tuned to the constant yammering about some ass-kicking mystery woman while cold, hard cash traded hands.
Disbelief had seized him by the throat as a visual of said ass-kicker had filtered through their conversations. Violent anger had him nabbing the closest cadet by the collar and demanding he repeat her description.
Medium height, slender build. Dark, blunt-cut hair and a set of killer legs any one of them would’ve gladly given up swallowing for a week to have wrapped around their neck.
Jesus. The windshield fogged from his heated breath.
In the stunned aftermath that had followed, every recruit in the criminal investigation’s logistics room had scampered back to their desks, and without bothering to check if he’d inflicted any damage, Ben had ripped the sheet off the board and high-tailed it right back down to the street.
But none of that had stopped a set of defiant blue eyes from taunting him the entire trip here. And it sure as shit hadn’t stopped the acid from churning in his gut until he could’ve sworn the lining had been worn raw.
Jamming his thumb against his pre-programmed remote, Ben tracked the jerk and rise of the garage door, but didn’t bother tapping the brakes even as the bottom edge threatened to shear off the roof of his vehicle.
His wet tires screeched against the concrete as he pulled into his reserved parking spot in the manor’s lower level garage. Wrenching the gearshift into Park, he hit the remote to close up behind him and popped the handle with a hard shove of his arm.
Yes, odds were good Xander had run a thorough background check on the recruits who’d agreed to spar with her. After surviving the hell of Charlie’s kidnapping, his top priority was guaranteeing no unauthorized personnel received access to the grounds. And yes, based on the injuries sustained, no one could argue Tanner was doing a bang-up job of holding her own.
But that wasn’t the point. Ben stepped from his truck and the slam of the door echoed off the concrete walls like the deafening crack of a Ruger. These were men, goddamn it. At the peak of their physical conditioning. A bunch of muscle-bound jocks who made trying to outdo each other a part of their daily routine. As the thirty-two-year-old geriatric member of the group, he’d been roped into showing ʼem up on the precinct’s weight bench enough times to know.
They didn’t give two shits about her, other than how smacking her around would also give them the chance to eyeball her, put their hands on her. And once her winning streak had come to a close, provide one of the lucky bastards enough boasting rights to coast for a year.
Didn’t she get that? He tapped the second code into the panel securing the entrance to the basement hallway, leaned into the retinal scanner and waited for the familiar thump of the four deadbolts retracting into the wall. Didn’t Tanner get how the only thing she’d accomplished was to put herself on display? How something as simple as a dislocated knee could stick her on med leave for months?
And for what? He shouldered the door and strode down the hall. So she could be held at gunpoint by some section eight sporting a vest of C-4 explosives like Eden? Be blown up in a building and take the chance she might never walk out alive?
He hit the stairs and lunged up two at a time to the top. Ba
sed on what he’d seen from her so far, that was a weaponized negative. Knowing Tanner, she’d probably set the whole thing up without giving two thoughts to the risks.
Charlie spun away from the butcher-block island as he charged through the back door into the kitchen, her hand paused in mid-air and fingers pinching a sunny slice of lemon. “Well, hi, Ben. Xander didn’t tell me you’d be stopping by today.” A quick scan of his face, and one of her eyebrows disappeared under her long bangs. “I take it from that strangle-the-messenger scowl you’re wearing this isn’t a social call. Everything okay?”
No, goddamn it. Everything was not okay. Dipping his chin in hello, he shoved the doorknob closed behind him. And if she was looking to put a label on things, this was a swat Tanner’s ass and get her to listen call. “She here?”
Charlie’s calculating assessment morphed into more of a narrow-eyed squint, and she pursed her lips before pivoting back to the island. “By she, I’m assuming you mean Tanner?” She slipped the lemon onto the last in a cluster of ice-filled glasses, all of them outfitted on a silver tray beside a battalion of coffee mugs and a thermal pot.
But it would’ve taken more than a simple swivel of her shoulders to hide the peek she shot at him out of the corner of her eye. “By the way, I found this awesome wrinkle cream that might take care of the angry cramp between your brows. You know, just in case you ever find yourself in need.”
Very funny. He cocked a brow. And typical. Every woman within the Dirty Deeds franchise made the skilled practice of evading questions come off easier than breathing. “Write down the name and, the next time I go for a facial, I’ll pass it along to my esthetician.”
Not that he’d consider getting rid of it even if he could. For long as he had a say, the small divot riding the frown line at the head of his left eyebrow stayed front and center. Right along with all the other souvenirs riddling his body.
Charlie laughed, eyes twinkling as she glanced at him over her shoulder, and despite his need to rain down a little hell on a certain stubborn female, he couldn’t help but crack a smile.
