by Josie Kerr
“Hell, if you don’t consider my nutso ex stalking you, sending you shit in the mail, and me getting arrested for her murder as ‘bad,’ I’d hate to see what you do consider ‘bad’.”
“You knew about that? About the package, I mean?”
“Kyle told me. Honey, you should have said something.”
“I didn’t want to make you worry. I know how important that fight was to you, and you didn’t need any distractions.”
He shook his head, his mouth set in a firm line. “No, nothing’s more important than your safety, okay? Nothing. But I need to know about this stuff. And to your earlier point: bad shit’s already happened, and we’ve come through it fine. But I know that we couldn’t have done it alone.”
Annie lay her head on his shoulder, feeling the steadiness of his heartbeat, of his breathing, and knew, truly knew, he meant every word he said, and those that he didn’t.
Pierce shifted in his seat. “Though, I wonder who did do it. Yes, she was a hateful, nasty woman, but she was also pretty damaged. Things catch up with you. They caught up with me, but I made some changes. Andrea obviously didn’t, and she paid the ultimate price. No one deserves that—to be tossed away like trash. No one.”
She glanced at the clock and sighed. She had a full day of showings today for some out-of-town clients, but she’d much rather stay holed up with Pierce.
“You need to go, don’t you?”
“Yeah.” Annie stroked his stubbly jaw. “What do you have going on today?”
“Fight recap, probably answer some calls. Hopefully answer some calls. Wait for you to get finished with your stuff so I can see you again.”
“You are so sweet.” She kissed his cheek.
Pierce made a noise in his throat. “I’m working on it.” He grinned at her. “Okay, let’s git ’er done.” He hoisted her over his shoulder and took her into the bedroom.
Chapter Thirty-two
Annie lifted a quivering hand to her mouth. Tinky Winky, her bright purple Saturn, her first symbol of independence, sat in the parking lot, tires slashed. The word “whore” had been painted across both doors and also on the now smashed front and back windows.
“But she’s dead! Dead people don’t use spray paint!” Annie’s voice rose higher and higher.
Pierce held her tightly, protectively, and his touch was the only reason she had not collapsed in a gasping heap.
Kyle and Johnny Richards arrived in separate vehicles, but both men wore identical concerned expressions.
Kyle whistled through his teeth. “Damn. Someone really doesn’t like you.”
“That’s not super helpful, bro.” Johnny scrubbed his face with his hands. “Okay, Annie, we have to consider alternatives because, well . . . you know.”
“Her ex. It’s gotta be.” Pierce’s jaw was clenched. “She hasn’t done anything to anyone, ever.”
Annie just stood beside her damaged car, shaking her head. “Jeff wouldn’t do this. He’d make sure I knew it was him.”
“I’m still going to check it out, Annie.” Kyle pulled out a small tablet and began to scribble on it. “Tell me when you saw him last, where he’s living, anything that might be helpful to locate him.”
“Well, I mean, the last time I saw him, he was at Standings Real Estate, screaming his fool head off when Rory physically removed him from the office. But that was months ago. I haven’t seen or heard from him since. He might have been transferred, honestly. The motel chain was thinking about closing that property. I remember him arguing with the guy from corporate.”
Kyle flipped the notebook closed and nodded. “Okay, this is good. I’m just going to see what he’s up to. Probably nothing. Hopefully nothing. But one thing’s for sure: you need to stay somewhere else for a little while.”
“She’ll stay at the fight club,” Pierce blurted, and when Annie raised her eyebrows at him, he smiled sheepishly and added, “if, you know, she wants to.”
“Yeah, I’ll stay at the fight club. But now, I need to get to my office so I can meet Ashley to go to the showings.”
“Annie . . . ,” Pierce began until she held up a warning finger. He snapped his mouth shut, but she could tell by the look on his face that they were going to continue this conversation later.
Kyle dropped Pierce and Annie off at the fight club, and then they went to her office. Pierce walked Annie in, and this time Ashley greeted him with a big hug.
“Are you all right, sugar? Oh my goodness.” She hugged Pierce tightly as Annie amusedly looked on. “Ryan told me all about it. Good God A’mighty. This is some crazy shit, huh? We’ll do our thing, and I’ll drop her at the fight club. You are staying at the fight club, right? Right?”
Annie sighed. “Yes, I am. Yeah.”
Pierce gave her a little, satisfied half smile and bent to place a soft kiss on her lips. “I’m going to go tape up your windows and clean out your car. And . . .”
“See if you can do something about the paint. Poor Tinky Winky.”
“Poor Tinky Winky.” Pierce kissed her again. “Good luck, you two. Kick some real estate butt.” With a little wave, Pierce pushed out the door.
“Honey, I took the liberty of getting you a rental.”
“Oh, good. I was trying to figure out how I was going to have time to get one today.”
Pierce came back through the door.
“What’s wro—”
Pierce captured Annie’s face in his hands and sealed his mouth over hers. She slumped into him as he kissed her hard and deep.
“Just had to do that.” Pierce kissed her cheek and then pressed his lips softly, sweetly against hers. “See ya in a bit.”
Wow.
“Oh my God. That was so fucking hot! Dang. I didn’t know Pierce had it in him.” Ashley whistled and fanned herself.
“He definitely does.” Annie felt herself flush, but not the kind that accompanied a panic attack.
Ashley cackled. “Look at you, blushing like a schoolgirl.” She clapped three times. “Okay, let’s pull ourselves together.” Ashley inhaled and exhaled loudly. “You ready to make some money?”
Annie stood up straight. Whoever had busted up her little car wasn’t going to get her down. Annie Hedges was capable, competent, and confident. “You know what? Yes. Yes, I am. Let’s do it.”
“Oh my God. I do not know why I do this to myself.” Ashley grimaced. “Man, food trucks are not my friend. You’d think I would have learned that by now. Oof.”
Annie eyed Ashley. “You gonna be able to make it home?”
“Oh yeah. And if not, well, it won’t be the first time someone’s crapped or barfed in the car.”
Annie made a face. “I am never having children.”
Ashley started to laugh, but then her eyes popped wide. “Gotta go. Call me when these last jokers leave. Bye!”
As Ashley peeled out of the Belle Avalon parking lot, Annie made a note to herself.
Never, ever eat something called a Taco Bomb.
Annie let herself into the condo and began getting ready for the showing, putting potted plants and flower arrangements in the livings areas and the bedrooms and setting out glasses and pitchers of water.
She had just popped a tray of cookies in the oven when she heard the door open. Cursing under her breath at the early arrival, she called out a cheery, “Good afternoon! Help yourself to some water!”
She heard someone walking around in the living room, guessing that they didn’t hear her, and rounding the corner of the kitchen.
“Sorry about that. Welcome to—” She froze in her tracks.
“Hello, Annie. Nice to finally catch up with you.”
“Jeff, what the heck are you doing here?” She willed herself to keep strong while weighing the odds of her making it to the front door without him catching her, or surviving a jump from a fifth-floor balcony.
Neither option was particularly great.
She decided to appeal to his vanity in hopes of distracting him enough to make
a break for it. Thank goodness she hadn’t changed into her heels. Yet.
“I am so sorry, Jeff. Prepping for the showing is no excuse for being as rude as I was. Let’s start over. Jeff, what an unexpected delight! What brings you to a Standings Real Estate showing?” She began to edge toward the door. “You . . . look really great. You’ve changed your hair.”
Jeff preened a bit, wiping his hand over his dyed-black hair. “Thank you, Annie. You’ve got to dress for the job you want, not the job you’re in, right?”
She edged to the right a few inches. With a smile plastered on her face, she nodded enthusiastically. “That is so right, Jeff. Great advice.”
He inclined his head. “Of course it is.”
“You know what, Jeff? I left something in the car. I need to run and get it.”
She took a few steps. But before she knew it, her ex-husband appeared before her, blocking the door. He grabbed her shoulders, gripping them so tightly that she knew she was going to have bruises.
“That showy purple piece of shit?”
Annie froze. How did he know what type of car she drove? She’d bought it with cash from her first commission check. Unless . . .
Oh no.
He shook her. “You couldn’t wait to show me up, could you? With your own car and working for a fancy real estate company? Oh, I’ve seen you drive past the motel. I was just waiting for the moment that you’d bust in and rub my face in your success.”
“Jeff, you’re hurting me.”
“Oh, booty-hoo-hoo. Do you have any idea how much you hurt me? You knew that the owners stipulated that a married couple has to run their properties. That’s right—as soon as they figured out you weren’t sick, that you were actually gone, they fired me! ME! I’m the reason that crappy motel is profitable. ME! Now, I have to pay to stay in that dump. Stevens had the gall to come by my to come by and ask me how I could possibly run a property if I couldn’t even control my idiot, mute wife. Can you believe that?”
Annie shook her head. “No, I can’t believe that. That’s awful, Jeff. No one should treat anyone like that, much less an upstanding man like yourself.”
“That’s right! I am upstanding. I’m a good husband, a good provider. I rescued you from that house. And what did you do? You ran around behind my back! You left me!” He screamed these last words in her face. “And now, look at you.” He looked her up and down.
Annie frantically tried to figure out what his angle was. She knew he disapproved of her outfit. Actually, he would have thrown out all her clothes, except a sister-wives sort of dress, if she’d even brought an outfit like what she currently wore into the house. She learned that lesson the hard way many years before.
“Jeff . . .” She braced herself to run, but before she could move, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a fist coming at her. She tried to dodge it, moving her head like she saw Tig do in the kickboxing class, but she must have weaved instead of dodged, because his fist connected with the side of her head.
And everything went black.
Chapter Thirty-three
“Dude, are you even listening to me?”
“Hm?” Pierce tried to focus on the glowering giant behind the desk.
“I said you’re firmly in the top fifteen now.” Colin frowned at him. “What’s got you in your head? I mean, you know, being charged with murder, which, yeah, okay. That’s a good excuse to be distracted . . .”
“And someone smashed my girlfriend’s car up and painted ‘whore’ on the side of it.”
“What the actual fuck, Pierce? When were you going to tell me about this?”
Pierce shook his head. “Well, it just happened last night, so . . .”
“So it couldn’t have been Andrea. Fuck. This is bad, man.”
Pierce nodded. He knew it was bad, and he knew in his gut it was Annie’s ex, maybe all along. He had been checking his phone every five minutes for news from Kyle, and hearing nothing was about to drive him completely nuts.
Colin was grinning at him in such a way that if they were in the cage, Pierce would have been in a choke hold in under five seconds. “But she’s your girlfriend now, huh?”
Pierce flushed but nodded, a slow grin spreading over his face. “Uh, yeah. At least, I think so. I’m pretty sure so.” He shifted in his seat. “I mean, I might not be her boyfriend, but she’s my girlfriend.”
Colin gave him a funny look, and Pierce just shrugged. “And obviously I’m really fourteen and completely awkward.”
Colin roared with laughter. “Oh man, you are so gone. Congrats. She’s a good woman.” He leaned back in his chair. “How can we help her?”
Pierce’s phone buzzed in his pocket. “Hold on a sec. This is Kyle Richards.” He stepped out of the room to take the call.
Pierce leaned back against the wall as he listened to Kyle report his findings, which were both better and worse. Better because they knew exactly where Jeff Waycoff had been during the previous six months, worse because of the situation.
“There was a clause, totally illegal, but a clause nonetheless, that to be a manager in residence of the property, you had to be married.”
“So they canned his ass when Annie left him.”
Kyle sighed. “And it gets worse. There was substantial debt before the divorce, and it’s gotten even worse since then because he’s not eligible for unemployment. So he’s got no money, soon no place to live, and no wife.”
“He probably blames her for everything.”
“Yep.”
Fuck. Pierce knew exactly what the guy was going through. Hell, he’d been there himself, right down to the blaming.
Kyle and Pierce discussed several scenarios, and after deciding on the best option, they signed off and Pierce went back into Colin’s office.
“Well, it could be worse, I guess.” Pierce relayed Kyle’s information and got more and more agitated.
“I’ll ask you again: how can we help?”
“Well, she’s staying here for a while, at least until Kyle puts eyes on the ex, which he’s working on as we speak. I hope that’s not a problem.”
“No way. In fact, you two can move in to one of the rental houses that Jason Richards just finished up. That way, she won’t have to deal with the obnoxious single guys.”
“I don’t know if she’d go for that. I mean, me living with her. She just got out of a terrible seventeen-year marriage. We might be . . . doing whatever we’re doing, but living together? That’s a big step.”
“Well, she can live there by herself, then. We can pick up some furniture, and her ex won’t even know she’s gone. And, man, how old was she when she got married?”
“I’ll run it by her when I go pick her up from the office.”
“She’s at work?”
Paddy knocked on the door twice and had a seat on a couch opposite of Pierce.
“Hey, Paddy. Yeah, I tried to get her to not go, but she figured that since Ashley’s showing with her, they’re fine. And Annie was sixteen. It was a whole thing. There’s a lot of people I’d like to beat up on her behalf.”
“Ashley’s showing what with who?” Paddy looked around in confusion. “I know I came in in the middle of a conversation, but Ash’s at home, sick as a dog from eating something called a Taco Bomb. I dunna wanna know, because the woman’s got a cast iron stomach.”
“So Ashley’s not with her.”
“No, I just told you. What’s going on?”
Fuck. Pierce didn’t even bother leaving the room; he just called Annie. When she didn’t pick up, he called her again. Then he demanded Paddy call Ashley and plucked the phone from the Irishman’s hand as soon as he punched in the last number.
“Ash, Annie’s not picking up,” Pierce blurted without even introducing himself.
“Well, she’s with a client. I’m sure she turned her phone off.”
“Where is the showing?”
“Pierce, what is going on?”
“Ash, where is the showing? If I blow a sal
e, I’ll give you the lost commission, but I need to know where she is, now.”
“Good Lord, hold on. She’s at Belle Avalon. Let me get you the unit number.”
Pierce could hear Ashley rummaging through something, so he handed the phone to Paddy. “Text me the unit number. I gotta go.”
Colin already had his phone in his hand. “I’ll call Johnny and Darren and send them over.”
Pierce ran out the door with a sick feeling in his stomach and a tightness in his chest.
Chapter Thirty-four
Annie woke up when the cold splash of water hit her face. She blinked and looked around wildly before Jeff covered her face with a washcloth.
She almost started screaming, but then he began to roughly scrub her face. He splashed some more water, made another swipe, and peered at her.
“Hm. I guess that will do. You look like a raccoon with all that crap on your face. You never wore makeup when we were together. Figures that he’d like you tarted up like a whore.”
“What? Who? What are you talking about?” Annie tried to sit up, but she discovered that her hands were tied to the bedposts. “Jeff, what are you doing?”
“Taking back what’s always been mine. You belong to me, Annie. I had you first, not that big bald fuck.”
Annie sucked in a breath. The only times Jeff cursed were when he was furious and out of control. Like the times he threw out all her clothes, or made her . . .
She didn’t want to think about those times.
“Yeah, I saw you two walking out of your apartment. I saw the way he looked at you in that white nightgown.” Jeff leaned over. “I saw you FUCKING HIM.”
It became crystal clear to Annie that it had been Jeff on her patio that night, not Andrea, and that Jeff most likely was responsible for the package. And that Jeff had . . .
“You killed her, didn’t you?”
“She was watching him. I watched her watch him, and then I followed her. She said she’d help me get him away from you if I helped her. But she was a lying whore, just like you are.”
