Under Fire

by Davis, Jo

Eve rarely dropped the tough-chick facade, and to see her genuinely wounded over his keeping her out of the loop ripped at his guts.

  “It’s not like that, I swear. I’ve had some heavy-duty problems these past few weeks, but I wanted to deal with them myself. Howard knows some of it,” he admitted, waving a hand at the lieutenant, who nodded. “Cori now knows part of it, too, but nobody’s heard the whole story. I guess I just thought . . .”

  Kat spoke up with quiet understanding. “You wanted to handle your situation on your own, without burdening anyone. You thought you could, but it’s grown too huge.”

  “God, yeah.” He sighed, knowing he had to level with Eve, at least about some of the story. “Here’s the part Six-Pack knows, and only because I had to ask for time off to deal with it. Remember when I took those two days off the week Howard was almost killed?”

  Eve rolled her eyes. “Like I could forget? Sean stayed pissed for weeks, even threw it in your face the day you almost drowned.”

  “What he doesn’t know is I didn’t have a choice. I . . . I lost my house, Evie. That week, I had to clear out.”

  He’d stunned her. She gaped at him, letting out a soft sound of distress, her expression of pity and confusion exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. Moving to his side, she lowered herself onto the sofa beside him, laying a hand on his arm.

  “But you’re still here. I don’t understand.”

  “I’m getting to that part.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I was ashamed,” he whispered, throat tight. “I didn’t want anyone to know, even you.”

  She lifted her chin, piercing him with pale eyes, communicating her disappointment eloquently without voicing what a complete jackass he was. “You should at least tell Sean. He’ll lighten up on you once he understands—”

  “No, you’re wrong. The captain’s curled up at the bottom of a bottle and doesn’t give a shit about our personal lives. Let’s not go there—I’ve already said too much.”

  Sean and Six-Pack were tight, went way back. Zack hadn’t missed the big man’s flinch at his harsh words, and regretted speaking them.

  “You’re the one who’s wrong. He does care, but we’ll drop it for now.” Sadness flashed across her angular face as it always did when the subject of Sean came up, but it was quickly masked by determination. “What does Cori know?”

  “She gave me a ride to my apartment and was there when I found out I’d been evicted. The manager sold all my possessions while I was hospitalized to cover back rent, so Cori offered me a place to stay. I know,” he said, cutting off another round of protests from Eve. “I could’ve asked you and I would have, except Cori needs me. Someone’s scaring her and I needed to crash, so it’s an even trade.”

  “Not quite,” she bit off. “The bastard didn’t try to murder her tonight. You’re in his sights, buddy, and forgive me for saying I don’t want you smack in the middle of this.”

  “I know. Please try to understand.”

  “Spill the rest and maybe I can. How did you wind up losing everything?”

  He looked away. “How does anyone? I’m broke. I’m not ready to get into the particulars, all right? It’s complicated.” And dangerous. Delacruz was a ruthless man whose sister had gone to great lengths to vacate the loving family embrace. Zack had experienced the billionaire’s long, unforgiving reach, and wondered how far the bastard would go to rein Cori in. Far enough to frighten her into returning to Atlantic City? And to murder the man living with her if necessary?

  No, Zack absolutely could not let his friends know about his connection to Delacruz. However, there was one matter he had to clear up before Eve left. “I phoned Six-Pack earlier and told him this, and I was planning to call you, too. You need to know Cori bought my house. She has no clue it was mine, and we’re going to keep it that way. She’s blameless in this, and I don’t want her upset more than she has been. We clear?”

  Howard and Kat murmured their agreement, though they were obviously concerned. Eve hesitated, managing a nod, but visibly skeptical. Good enough.

  He tried a smile, but it wouldn’t materialize. “Go home, guys. I appreciate you all coming, but you’ll be cursing me when you’re dragging your butts in to work in a few hours.”

  “Never, my friend,” Six-Pack rumbled, clamping a gentle hand on his good shoulder. “We’re here whenever you need us. Just do us all a favor and watch your back.”

  “I will. You and Kat still coming by on Tuesday?”

  “Yep.” Six-Pack’s brown eyes twinkled. “Eve, too, if she wants to come along. It’s a surprise.”

  “Ooh, I love surprises,” Eve said, finally breaking into a smile. “Count me in.”

  After a round of careful hugs from the women, the trio filed out, leaving Zack alone with terrible reality.

  Someone tried to murder me. If I hadn’t turned . . .

  “Okay, we need more bandages and tape. No way will the one you’re wearing last all night.” Cori took the seat Eve had vacated, and touched his arm. “Are you really all right? The truth.”

  He opened his mouth and started to lie. Looking into her beautiful face, stark with worry, he couldn’t. “Shaken,” he admitted. “And, sure, scared. I’d be an idiot if I wasn’t. But I’m not going to run, and if that’s what the bastard thinks, then he’ll have to improve his aim.”

  The minute the stupid statement left his mouth, he realized his mistake. Cori’s face blanched white, her tawny eyes rounding to huge circles.

  “Oh, Zack. What are we doing? You can’t stay here with me. It’s too risky.”

  “Uh-uh. The only way you’ll make me go is to physically throw me out, and I’m bigger than you.”

  “But—”

  “Forget it, baby.”

  Zack watched as Cori’s relief won over her fear by a narrow margin. She didn’t want him involved any more than his friends did, but she needed him in a way that touched his soul—as a woman needs a man. He’d die before giving her up.

  “So, bandages,” he said, pushing to his feet. God, he was tired. And having second thoughts about venturing out. “Are you sure there isn’t something else in the house we can use?”

  She shook her head. “That one’s already soaked and it needs to be changed regularly. The police are still outside searching the area and the shooter is long gone, so now’s the best time to go. Besides, are we going to be held hostage in our own home?”

  Our home. His mood lightened somewhat. “Where to?”

  “There’s a twenty-four-hour drugstore in town, right before the square. I’ll drive.”

  Zack heaved a lungful of crisp night air and silently thanked God he was alive to enjoy it. Cori walked beside him, linking her arm through his as they headed for her car.

  “Maybe we can find some ice cream, too,” she said.

  “Sounds good.” Whatever helped her work through her case of nerves was all right by him. A drive might take the edge off for both of them.

  He slid into the passenger’s seat, easing back gingerly, gritting his teeth at the dull throb in his shoulder. The nice buzz from the painkiller was already wearing off, but it would be hours before he could take another. Damn.

  Cori pulled onto the two-lane highway and Zack contemplated whether to drop the subject of her tormentor for tonight. Then again, people often revealed more when their defenses were lowered. He cut a look at Cori, studying her profile in the darkness.

  “You told the police you have no idea who might be responsible for all of this. But, baby, I have to ask you . . . what about your husband’s death? Joaquin killing him had to be sensational news on the East Coast. What if—”

  “There’s nothing more to tell,” she said, voice sharp and tight. Upset. “Alex died, my brother was acquitted, and that was the end of it.”

  A ripple went through him, a chill in his marrow. Cori was lying. Or not revealing the whole truth. Yeah, she was covering, but for whom? About what?

  She was on the brink. Ins
tinctively, he knew if he pushed, he could pry the truth from her. And afterward, she’d withdraw from him. Maybe permanently. No, he’d be patient and let her open up on her own. He wasn’t innocent in the secret-keeping department and when it finally came down to spilling their guts to each other, his were going to cause her pain. Their budding closeness needed time to find solid footing before that particular session of show-and-tell.

  If only he could shake the conviction that her past had a lot more to do with the current situation than she wanted to admit.

  They picked up the necessary items at the drugstore, then found an all-night burger place and ordered two chocolate shakes to go. Funny how the cold, sweet treat could make the worst day seem a little rosier.

  Cori flipped on the radio, tapping her hands on the steering wheel to the pumping beat of Christina Aguilera. Not exactly his thing—he preferred smooth contemporary or classic rock—but he didn’t mind since the music helped lessen the tension with every mile.

  Zack downed half his shake before his eyelids got heavy. He didn’t realize he’d fallen asleep until a gentle tug roused him from a deep, dark abyss. He blinked, the stubborn cobwebs clinging to his consciousness as he tried to get his bearings.

  “We’re home, sleepyhead,” Cori murmured.

  He sat up too fast and a sharp pain lanced his shoulder. “Ahh, crap.”

  “Easy. Let me come around and help you.”

  “I’ve got it.” Grabbing his shake and the small drugstore bag, he opened his door. Before he could protest, she was on his side of the car, reaching for his good arm. In spite of the dull throbbing, his lips turned up. Truly, it was simpler to let his beautiful nurse fuss over him. He’d be a dumbass to complain.

  “I’ve got to order a new garage-door opener,” she said, shivering as they rounded the vehicle. Their footsteps crunched on the gravel and the cold night was eerily still, the police gone. “I don’t like getting out of the car in the dark, especially now.”

  “I’ll look into it tomorrow. There must be some paperwork with information, or a number on the unit we can use to order—”

  Halfway to the front door, Zack halted in his tracks and gaped at the front of the house. “I’ll be goddamned.”

  “What . . . oh, no.” She swayed in shock, clinging to his arm, her only lifeline in the tidal waves crashing over their heads. “Oh, Zack, look what he’s done!”

  The front of her house was trashed. A complete, total wreck. Every one of the windows was smashed and spray paint marred the wooden siding and front door in swoops and whirls. As they approached the bottom of the steps, more destruction became visible.

  Although empty of flowers for the winter, pots had been broken, the dirt and shards scattered over the porch. The sorry bastard had even taken something heavy—perhaps a hammer—and destroyed many of the vertical slats holding up the porch railing.

  In the center of the disaster, letters had been sprayed in all caps on the front door amid the scribbles. Since the porch light had been shattered along with most everything else, Zack would have to move closer to read the message.

  “Watch your step.” Ordering her to remain behind wouldn’t work, so he didn’t bother. They took the steps together, dodging glass and shards of pottery until the ugly missive came into focus.

  YOU WILL PAY.

  Cori sucked in a sharp breath. “Oh, God. Why is he doing this?”

  Turning to face her, Zack folded her into his arms. Held her as tightly as possible despite his injury. “I don’t know, baby. But if the police can’t get to the bottom of this, we will. I promise.”

  She burrowed her face into his chest, wrapped her arms around his waist. He drew his coat around her, needing her close to his body, desperate to shelter her from an enemy he didn’t know how to fight.

  The trembling started first, racking her from head to toe. Then her shoulders began to shake. Her muffled sobs tore at his heart, her fear and anger his own.

  “Let it out,” he whispered, stroking her hair. “I’m here.”

  A few short minutes of destruction would take hours of backbreaking work to fix. Cori’s sense of peace and security would take much longer.

  Impotent rage washed his vision in red.

  Show your face, asshole. Take on a man instead of a defenseless woman and see what happens.

  Zack burned for their nemesis to come out and play.

  And when you do, you’re one dead motherfucker.

  11

  Cori’s head bobbed through her Monday classes as she fought to stay awake. At this point, she’d given up actually trying to process her instructor’s lecture and decided instead to strive for not slipping into a coma.

  A lofty endeavor after last night’s sinister attacks. Following a second visit by the city’s finest, Zack had covered the shattered front windows with tarps, while she swept the downstairs free of glass. Then he sent her to bed and settled in a living room chair under a blanket with a baseball bat on his lap. She’d tossed for what little remained of the night, worried to death about him. He’d still been there this morning, eyes red-rimmed, watching TV and drinking coffee to stay awake and on guard.

  Brave, wonderful man. She’d made him promise to try to get some sleep today, but first he’d insisted on making phone calls to find someone to replace the windows, and to the garage-door company. When she left, he’d been sweeping debris from the porch, dark circles smudged under his eyes. A can of brown house paint he must’ve found in the shop sat nearby, evidence that he’d get little rest today despite his assurances.

  On the way home, Cori stopped and picked them up a large supreme pizza, figuring neither of them would have the energy to cook. The rich aroma drove her nuts until she finally turned down the driveway and parked.

  She shouldered her purse and got out, pizza box in hand, squinting into the bright afternoon sun. Zack stood at the top of a tall ladder at the corner of the house by the garage, good arm over his head, working diligently on screwing a pair of lights under the eave of the roof. The other arm was curled against his stomach, and she knew his shoulder must be sore.

  “Ohh, stubborn, foolish man!” Stalking to the bottom of the ladder, she glared up at him. She would not be distracted by how nicely his jeans cupped his tight ass, or how the muscles of his back flexed under the light blue T-shirt as he labored. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “Finishing these lights, beautiful,” he called over his good shoulder. “Almost done.”

  “Well, I can see that! You’re going to fall, Mr. Genius. And dammit, it’s only fifty degrees today and you’re not wearing a jacket.”

  “I got hot and had to take it off.”

  “No matter what their IQ states, all men are brain damaged,” she muttered. Zack just chuckled. “If you’ve hurt yourself, you’re not getting any pizza.”

  Lowering his arm, he winced, favoring his shoulder, then turned and grinned down at her. “Pizza? I’m done!”

  Screwdriver in hand, he descended the ladder and greeted her with a spine-tingling kiss, leaving her breathless and thinking of munching on him instead.

  “I missed you,” he said, flicking the tip of her nose with one finger.

  “Really? Couldn’t have guessed.”

  “You’re supposed to say you missed me, too.”

  “I missed you all day. Worried about you.”

  With good reason. If Zack looked exhausted yesterday, this afternoon he resembled death warmed over. His eyes were bloodshot from little sleep; his jaw was dark with stubble. His ebony hair stuck out in every direction, as though the spiky strands had been styled with a blender.

  And even so, she’d never seen anyone more gorgeous.

  He took the box from her hands and they started for the porch. Cori noted the sparkling new windows and the fresh paint obliterating all traces of last night’s vandalism, and a lump of gratitude formed in her throat.

  “Thank you for taking care of all this. I’ll settle the bill with th
e glass people, and pay you for the lights and paint job.”

  “You’re letting me stay here, so it’s the least I can do. Besides, I get paid next Friday.”

  “But—”

  “Cori, let me do this for you.”

  The flat line of his mouth, the stiff set of his spine, and the proud tilt of his head made her relent. He really wanted to feel useful, to assist her in any way he could. Something told her Zack hadn’t felt useful in a very long time, and that refusing would hurt him terribly.

  “Then my triple thanks. Maybe I can repay you some other way?” He shot her a sharp look and she raised her eyebrows, which earned her a laugh.

  “Baby, I’m just a guy. What do you think?”

  “That we’d better eat our pizza before we get into trouble.”

  They dug in, then carried their plates and drinks to the breakfast nook. It hadn’t escaped Cori’s attention that the bullet hole in the wall had been filled with Spackle, the blood cleaned from the floor.

  “Did you get any rest today at all?”

  “I really didn’t do much, just directed the workers around. Slapped on a coat of paint, put up the motion-sensitive security lights on each corner of the house—my friend Clay brought those out. Tomorrow the glass guys are replacing the window over the kitchen sink, since they didn’t have the right size with them, and I’ll work on repairing the porch slats.” He hefted a slice of pizza. “God, this smells good. I’m starving. How was your day?”

  “Nice deflection of my question.” He was hunched over his plate, elbows on the table, and she suspected the position was the only thing propping him upright. The outline of the bandage on his shoulder was visible under his shirt, and she knew he had to be in some pain, but wouldn’t admit it.

  “You’re going to bed early. Alone,” she added at the hopeful gleam in his blue eyes.

  “So much for my repayment.”

  “Don’t pout. You couldn’t win an arm-wrestling match against me at the moment, much less anything more . . . stimulating.”

  “Rain check?”

  “I’m counting on it.”

  He grinned and they resumed eating while she bored him with details of her day and nursing classes. Neither of them wanted to acknowledge the onset of evening and their fear of a repeat of last night. Even more frightening, they were both so tired she worried they’d sleep right through the monster breaking in to harm them—or worse.