by Beth Rhodes
“I’ll take her upstairs,” the gentleman took over, put an arm over her shoulders, and led her through the doorway at the back of the store.
It wasn’t often he had a client refuse care, refuse the attention. Tan dialed her dad’s number. “Hey, Brett.” Tan’s gaze scanned the mess left behind. “Something happened over at Liz’s.”
“What? What happened? Is she okay? Let me talk to her,” he demanded.
“A neighbor helped her up to the apartment. I need to call the police.”
“Helped her? Can’t she walk? Should she be in a hospital?”
Tan waited a second before continuing. “She’s on her own two feet. Looks like she took a beating—”
“Take her to the hospital.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t agree; it was just he wasn’t into restraining and forcing people against their wishes. “Let me check her out—”
“She refused, didn’t she? I’m on my way.” He hung up without waiting for a response.
Tan dialed 9-1-1 and gave the dispatcher his information then hung up and tucked the phone into his pocket. He stepped over the clothing rack and the shiny and skimpy costumes. Money was scattered behind the counter. In the back room, he gingerly stepped over toppled shelves and thrown drawers. The mess would take hours to clean up.
“Police.” A man in a uniform with the word Jenkins over his breast stepped into the room with a glance around and was followed by a younger version of himself, same serious face, same posture, same narrowed assessing eyes.
Careful to keep his hands visible, Tan nodded up the stairs. “Woman was attacked. Her neighbor took her upstairs.”
The man holstered his gun as his partner sidled in behind him with a cursory look around. The first officer gave his younger partner a look.
“I’ll look around outside.”
“You here when it happened?” Officer Jenkins questioned as he crossed the threshold into Liz’s work room.
“No, sir. A call came through from her phone, only…she didn’t answer me, so I came to check on her.”
The man’s response was a short hum.
The officer wasted no time making an assessment. He went to the back door, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and held the back door to study it. “Looks like this is where the perpetrator came in.”
“It’s not broken.” Tan suggested.
The man of the hour looked back at Tan. “Let me see your hands.”
Tan hesitated at the request, but lifted his hands and turned them over for the man to see.
“Clean.” One word, and the officer moved on, taking the steps to the right, which led to the apartment. A closer look showed black smudge marks and handprints along the edge of the door.
Damn straight.
He followed Jenkins up the narrow stairwell. White walls on either side of him were covered with photos of Liz, skating and winning medals. Always with that sweet smile, as if she wasn’t sure she deserved the honor. Near the top of the steps, the photos changed. Surrounded by family, the shy smile gone, each picture showed another facet of a person he didn’t know. Rough housing with her brothers, probably about twelve. Another, with a hockey stick as a teenager. Inside the rink, her dad’s arm over her shoulder, the grin on her face, one of complete knowledge. She knew her place and knew she was loved.
Tan moved on, leaving the evidence of another happy, loving family behind.
The steps led into a small kitchen. One word, white. The cabinets and the tiles. Everything, including the little microwave above the stove, was white. Except for the blood red table where Elizabeth sat, her hands wrapped around a white mug. Her eyes found him, followed him when he crossed the room and peeked into the living room. Nothing looked out of place…
Well, nothing except…life. There was no color in the living room. Gray walls, gray couch.
Large flat screen. Bose sound system. A laptop on the coffee table.
Why would a guy bent on robbery take a few dollars from the cash register and skip the good stuff up here?
Jenkins continued his questioning.
Tan kept an ear on the conversation, as he went to the fridge first, then sat at the table with a water bottle. Liz’s gaze turned into a glare, as if she was offended by his forwardness, but he smiled, to reassure her and then handed over the water bottle for her to drink. “Drink some water. The coffee can wait.”
She looked like hell. Her hand held up a Ziplock bag full of ice against her head. Her skin was pale, almost translucent.
A slow burning deep in his gut flamed to life. He’d always been good at keeping his cool. Right now, with his muscles tense, he worked to keep his brain from imagining some guy opposite him in the ring. He could go a round or two.
“It’s not too bad.”
He watched her lips move, found her gaze on his hands, clenched fists on the table. Forcing himself to relax, he leaned back in the chair. “You’re going to need to see a doctor.”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Elizabeth Whitney.” The short man from across the road frowned at her and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Do what your friend says. You might need stitches. Let them check you out.”
Removing the ice from her head, she refused with a shake.
Tan rolled his eyes. A medic in the Army so many years ago, he kept all his certificates and training current. It was required for everyone at Hawk Security. “I’ll be right back.”
On the quick jaunt to his car to retrieve his first aid bag, he took note of the small crowd gathered outside the shop. A few people congregated across the street. He scanned, creating an image in his head of everything he saw. He had a good brain for details, and later, he’d sit down and write what he saw.
Back at the bottom of the steps inside the store, Tan waited for Officer Jenkins to descend. “Did you get everything you need?” he asked, wanting to dig deeper and get to the bottom of why someone would attack her.
Jenkins patted his chest pocket. “It’ll do for now. My partner is going to get a set of those prints from the door. Not often a criminal makes it so easy on us.”
“I work for Hawk Elite.” Tan handed him a card. “Mr. Whitney hired us to refresh Liz’s knowledge of self-defense—”
“Looks like you have your work cut out for you.”
“If you learn anything that can help us keep her safe…”
Jenkins saluted him with the business card then moved back through the work room to the storefront. “Give me a call in a few days. We’ll have the prints processed and the neighborhood canvassing done.” He shrugged though. “I gotta be honest. There’s been a string of burglaries in the area.”
But Tan wasn’t buying it. Too coincidental. With Gabriel out of prison. They had to be careful. “I’d appreciate it if you’d check on the ex-con, Gabriel Sands. He was released three weeks ago.”
Jenkins narrowed his gaze, but nodded. “We follow all leads.”
Tan set his bag down on the step and followed Jenkins to lock the front door behind him. The crowd had dissipated. And the only light from outside came from the gas lamp fixtures along the road. A bolt, a chain, and lock on the door knob later, he took the stairs two at a time to the kitchen. “You need better security.”
“My security is fine.”
He glanced over and found her, bent over with her head in the fridge.
“Where is your neighbor friend?” The man was gone, and they were all alone.
Liz stood, a half-gallon of milk in her hand. “He had to go close up his own place for the night.”
She lifted the milk and gestured to the table. “Would you like some cereal?”
“Cereal?”
“Yes,” she answered with a little tilt of her head. “You know. Food usually eaten for breakfast? Sweet. Crunchy. Fortified with vitamins?”
“Uh, no.” A little floored by her recuperation, he stared. Was she putting him on? Had years of training created an ability to rebound from such a beating? Admiration warred
with concern. “I should check out the gash on your head.”
At the click of the door opening at the bottom of the steps, her dad called out. “Elizabeth!”
She winced. Not as unaffected as she played. “Didn’t take him long to get here, did it?” she asked Tan, pursing her lips with a long, slow indrawn breath. “I’m up here.”
Brett barreled up the stairs, his gaze honing in on Liz with deliberate care. Then he took her shoulders in his hands, making a more detailed study. “Oh, my baby. Please come home.”
“I can’t—”
“You’re being stubborn.”
“I’m trying to move on,” she lowered her voice, the steel core rearing its head. She was gorgeous when she stood up for herself. Her eyes burned with a fire… “I can’t hide up in my little girl room anymore.”
“And where were you?” Brett turned to Tancredo, but it was fear not accusation in the man’s eyes that had Tan rethinking his desire to bite back.
“Dad.” She stopped the tirade, moving in front of him and pulling out a chair. “Sit down. Tan is fine. You didn’t hire him to babysit me—”
“Not yet, anyway,” Brett answered begrudgingly. Instead of sitting, he grabbed a coffee mug from a cabinet to the left of the sink and set it on the Keurig platform. “How do you feel, baby?”
Liz went back to her cereal and sat at the table with a bowl and spoon. “I took a pain reliever. I’m feeling much better already. Tan’s going to look at it. Right?” She gave him a look, as if asking him to downplay the whole incident. Then she lifted her hair from her left shoulder and gently placed it over her right shoulder.
Geez. She had a pretty neck. Tan cleared his throat, set the bag on the table, and stood behind her. She had a split above her temple where her attacker had hit. There was another gash under her hairline. Not a fist punch, though. “He get you with something?”
“I think that’s where the clothing rack came down on me.” Her hand came up to touch it, but he brushed her fingers aside. “You can touch it.”
“Yeah, I know.” He pressed against the skin around the lump. “Does it hurt?”
Liz shrugged, the movement caused her hair to fall back over her shoulder and fan out over his hands. She took a bite of her cereal, put the spoon down and reached for her hair, pulling it out of the way again. “I’ve had a lot worse training in the rink.”
“Damn it, Elizabeth.” Brett finally spoke up, frowning into his coffee mug.
She tensed when he used an antiseptic on the wound but continued to eat as if it didn’t matter. Tough stuff. But she came from a family of tough men. He added a butterfly bandage. The bruising disappeared beneath her shirt. He lifted the edge and peered down along her shoulder blade.
“Hey!” Liz leaned forward and shifted in her seat. “Watch it, Buster.”
Tan lifted his hands and pressed his lips together to hold back a laugh. “Sorry. Just checking.”
Her frown left a crease between her eyes, which disappeared when she relaxed. “Fine.”
She finished her snack and took the bowl to the sink. A slight limp in her step gave her away.
“Let me see your leg.”
“You don’t have to do this.” She sighed as she turned. “I’m going to let you out. I’m going to soak for a long time in the bath tub, and then I’m going to bed early. Bruises aren’t going to kill me.”
“He’s not going anywhere.”
“Dad!” Horror resounded in through her one word.
“Then you’ll come home for the night, missy. And there’ll be no argument this time.”
She muttered something as she rinsed her bowl and dried it. When she turned, a weary look came over her. Tan almost felt bad for her. “I don’t mind guard duty, for the night, if you want it.”
She bit at her bottom lip then hummed. Her gaze went to her dad, who sat there glaring at her. “Dad. I’ll be over first thing in the morning—”
“You won’t even know I’m here, Liz.”
She was staring back at her dad, as if she could read his mind. “Can you come to my dad’s in the morning?” she asked Tan. “He’s going to want to discuss expanding your contract.”
Tan looked to Brett in surprise. He hadn’t seen that coming, yet at the same time, he loved how she took control. She had read her dad’s mind. He could tell by the way Brett relaxed in his seat, took a final sip of his coffee, and then got up as if to leave.
“I can drive us over in the morning.”
“I can drive myself over,” she insisted.
Brett scowled. “Will you always fight common sense? Take the ride, if not for protection then to minimize your carbon footprint!”
Liz looked to her dad, a contrite expression on her face. “Fine.”
“Great. I will stick around here through the night.” Tan had John coming into the gym the next morning and would be free until two.
“No, wait.” She snapped a finger. “I have a client coming at nine in the morning. Make it eleven?”
“You should cancel, Baby.”
“Definitely not.” Obviously, Liz was done negotiating.
Brett must have seen the end of his rope as well, because he merely sighed as he pulled on his jacket. “I’ll see myself out.”
“Thanks Dad, for coming into town.” She walked over to him and kissed his cheek. He pulled her into his arms and hugged her, whispered in her ear. Then gave Tan a little wave before he left.
Tan could play this two ways. Camp out on the couch. Or, stake out in his truck.
Both would be unpleasant, each one for very different reasons.
~ 7 ~
“You can take the couch.” Nerves awakened in her stomach. She’d acted cool as a cucumber. Why should she care if Tan stayed here on guard duty?
She shouldn’t.
“That’s not necessary.” His entire demeanor screamed standoffishness, a far cry from the guy who had come and saved her.
Okay, it hadn’t exactly been a save…post save. Or even an afterthought, as if he just happened to be in the neighborhood? “Hey, how did you know to come here, anyway?”
Everything had happened so fast, she hadn’t even thought about why Tan had been on her street, at her store.
“You dialed me. I got the call and heard…” His voice faded and he ran a hand through his hair. “I heard the guy. And I thought something didn’t sound right.”
“Wow.”
He met her gaze with a shrug. “It was nothing.”
“Not to me,” she said with more force than she meant to. “I’m sorry.” Great. Now she was going to scare him away. “It’s just…it was really nice to have a familiar face there when I came to.” Unlike the last time she’d taken a beating.
“You want to talk about it?” he asked.
And the pounding in her chest was a heartfelt yes, but she shook her head. “No.”
“I can watch from the road and sit in my truck.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “It’s too cold.”
He grinned, and God, that smile against his rich colored skin…straight teeth and pretty lips. Liz cleared her throat.
“It’s my job, and I don’t mind. I’ve sat overnight in worse places than my car, which by the way, is quite comfortable.”
She squeezed her eyes shut for a minute, wanting to ask him, not wanting to ask him…
“Please, would you stay on the couch tonight? I would feel much better if you were inside.” There. She said it. She might act all tough and independent, but…she wouldn’t mind a little company tonight.
“Sure. Of course. No problem. I thought you wouldn’t want me to stay. Whatever you need.”
Now they both sounded ridiculously awkward and weird. “Is this going to be as uncomfortable as it sounds?” she asked.
“No. I’m not uncomfortable. I swear. I’m trying to get a feel for what you want without being intrusive or… okay, maybe. A little.”
She smiled back at him. “Do you need to run home for clothes or an over
night bag? I have a few things my brothers keep here. But, if you want to run home…”
“Overnight bag in my car. Never leave home without it.”
“A boyscout. Is everyone at Hawk Elite a boyscout and…always prepared?”
“In this regard, yes.”
She clutched her hands together in front of her. “Well, I’m going to go get the extra pillow and blanket.”
“Hey,” he said, almost touching her arm. “Follow me downstairs. We can lock up.”
She nodded as he left and then went down her short hallway to the closet to pull the pillow down from the top shelf. The fleece blanket was on the next shelf down. Then she carried them to the living room and set them on the couch. She turned on the television and found ESPN.
Turning the volume down, she set the remote on the end table.
The adrenaline was quickly losing effect, and fatigue came over her, slamming into her like a freight train. Not unlike her post competition rush, she knew she needed to hit the hay as soon as possible or she’d be sleeping on her feet.
Downstairs, she sat on the bottom step, waiting for him to get back. Her eyes fell closed and his knock at the back door woke her. She opened the door and found him, standing there with a pack on his back. “You definitely, definitely need better security. I could have been anyone. How do you not even have a peephole? And why the freak did you open the door?”
She frowned. “Well, I knew it was you.”
“Because you’re superwoman?”
Her brain had slowed to lethargic and her frown deepened.
“Come on,” he said, turning her in the doorway and facing her up the stairs. “Give me the key.”
She worked to clear the fog, embarrassed by his subtle accusations, and took the key from her pocket, knowing he wouldn’t be impressed by how she had to wriggle the damn lock and pull up on the door to secure it. “I got it.”
She locked up, tugged on the door to check it, and then followed him. And no offense… but he had a nice rear-end, too. Her brain really was fried, if she was checking out his ass. After showing him his place in the couch, she made to leave, turning at the last moment. “Thank you, Tan. I know we’re practically strangers…”
