Damaged

by Indigo Sin

  Quick to leave the area, Monica turned onto the next block, keeping her head down and her ears open. The opportunities were minimal, making a hint of desperation begin to claw at her mind. She had to fight it off. Desperation would only lead to a slip-up.

  She had all but given up hope of success when she emerged from the space between buildings to find a man in jeans and a suit coat bending into the trunk of his car. He looked pretty focused on whatever he was searching for, but Monica took note of the laptop bag leaning against the back tire. It was black leather, marked with the gold emblem of a high-end designer on the flap. It would get her at least five hundred at pawn, and she wanted it. Badly.

  Waiting until her mark ducked into the trunk once more, Monica moved swiftly and silently, stepping from the curb to slip her arm through the strap effortlessly. Once it was secured, her heart pounded in her rib cage so hard it was almost painful. She needed to move fast. As quick as her legs could carry her, she slipped into the comforting darkness of the narrow alley, stopping just inside to slump back against the damp brick to try to catch her breath. Clutching the bag to her chest, she closed her eyes and regained her composure. She’d never stolen anything of such value before. It was a little overwhelming, and guilt sat like a lead weight in her gut, but she didn’t have time to dwell on it. She needed to get moving.

  She should have heard it coming.

  She should have heard the footsteps.

  She never should have stopped to begin with. But she had, and by the time the massive shadow of a man blocked out the glow of the nearby street light unexpectedly, Monica didn’t even have a chance to react. A hand clamped down over her mouth, and his heavy form crushed her firmly to the wall behind her. Her eyes went wide as terror ripped through her body. Not again, oh God, not again!! Helpless against his strength, tears welled in her eyes, stinging bitterly. This was karma. It had to be. She’d stolen, broken the law, and now her luck had officially run out. Two nights in a row was more than a sign, it was a warning siren blaring in her head. And then it hit her, shocking her with a jolt, making her go still.

  The cologne.

  It was him, the mystery man from the night before. Oddly, a sense of relief washed over her. Why, she had no idea, because that meant that he had her figured out. That meant he’d probably been following her and watching her for a while. Her stomach turned and her throat tightened with the threat of getting sick.

  “I’ll move my hand if you promise not to scream,” he ordered, his voice low, demanding.

  Right. Like she was going to scream while she stood there holding his stolen belongings. Staring up at his shadowed face, she nodded slightly. He nodded in turn before pulling his hand away from her mouth slowly. Monica sucked precious oxygen into her lungs, thankful to have the barrier removed.

  “I—I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely. “Please let me go.”

  The man shook his head slowly, maintaining his hold on her upper arms. “Last time I trusted you, you made me look like a fool. Not happening this time, sweetheart.”

  She had nothing to say to that. She was a moron if she thought she was going to luck out twice.

  Monica swallowed. Her mouth was so dry, she was dizzy with fear. “I won’t run. I promise.” It was worth a shot anyway.

  Lips that were made for pure sin curled into a grin, barely visible in the low light of the alley. “I know you won’t, because this time you’re coming with me. We’re not having this discussion in another disgusting alley. My car is at the curb, but I’m going to need my keys.”

  Monica stared up at him as confusion clouded her brain. “But…I don’t have your keys. Why would I have your—”

  His icy blue gaze dipped to the bag she was still clutching to her chest, then back to her face. Her blood ran cold. He’d set her up from the beginning. She’d been so damn focused on the dollar signs that she hadn’t even considered it was a sting.

  “Yes you do,” he informed. “Front pocket. Now, we’re going to walk out of this alley to my car, and you’re going to be a good girl for me. Right?”

  If it meant he wouldn’t call the police, then she’d comply with whatever he said. “Where are we going?” she asked, glancing at the vehicle in the street.

  “Somewhere we can talk. Now move.” He barely finished his statement before taking her by the arm, pulling her toward the sidewalk. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to go home to Sarah and Jack. Sarah was right; she never should have gone out tonight.

  As if on autopilot, her feet moved, following the man to his vehicle. He opened the door and helped her in before jogging around the front to slide into the driver’s seat. The interior was spotless, smelling of leather and his cologne. And when he closed his door behind him, Monica finally got a good look at him for the first time.

  His brown hair was a little too long, curling at the nape of his neck and temples. It was tousled, sexy even. His eyes were the clearest, vivid blue. The way his gaze penetrated her made her uncomfortable. Like he knew a little too much. His nose was narrow, and his jaw was square. The shadow of scruff dusting his cheeks and chin did funny things to her insides.

  He was gorgeous.

  When he looked over, catching her staring, she dropped her eyes to her lap, a light flush coloring her cheeks. All she could do was pray that he hadn’t noticed. If he had, he didn’t mention it.

  His big hand reached over the console suddenly, making her jump slightly. “Easy. I’m just getting the keys,” he soothed, slowing his movements while he pulled the zipper open on the front of the bag, pulling a ring of keys out. “I’m not going to hurt you. Okay?”

  Monica nodded, clasping her hands together so tightly her knuckles went white. “Okay.”

  What the hell was wrong with her? A complete stranger makes you get into his car after you stole from him, and you just agree with everything he says? She was going to end up dead in a ditch somewhere for sure. He could be some psychotic murderer for all she knew.

  He started the car and pulled away from the curb with the ease of a man who was confident in everything he did. She couldn’t figure him out, but something about him captivated her. He knew what she was doing. He knew she was a thief. Yet he didn’t seem to be upset or disgusted by it.

  They rode in silence as he wound his way through the city traffic. She tried. Dammit she tried, but no matter what, her gaze kept pulling back to the man behind the wheel. “Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly.

  He stopped the car at a red light and turned that cool blue gaze on her. She wanted to shrink back into the seat. Being pinned under that stare made her uneasy.

  He ran a hand through his hair as if he sensed it, and looked away. Hitting the gas again, he turned the corner, coming to a stop in front of a small diner. “You hungry?”

  Chapter Four

  He watched her as she stared out the window at the flickering neon lights that spelled out Donny’s Place. She was confused, but why wouldn’t she be? He’d herded her to his car before she could even comprehend what was going on. Clearly she was in shock.

  Slowly, she shook her head, her mouth opening and closing a few times. “I need to get home.”

  Seth ignored her protest as he pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the car. Her gaze followed him the entire way around the front of the vehicle until he was pulling her door open. Holding his hand out for her, he motioned with his head. “Let’s go.”

  She didn’t budge. “I can’t. Please, I can walk from here.”

  “You can come in for one cup of coffee,” he said, his arm still extended. She stared at his hand for a moment before her gaze flickered down the street like she was calculating her escape. Seth shook his head. “Don’t even think about it. Get out of the car.”

  Hell, even if she did run, he’d probably let her go again anyway. She was skittish as a kitten, and he needed to treat her as such. Relief washed over him when she finally pushed the bag from her lap, and placed her small hand in his. God,
she was tiny. His hand enveloped hers completely when she finally stepped from the vehicle. She was tense, and he could practically feel the fear pouring off her.

  Shutting the door behind her, he held onto her hand until they entered the diner, and slipped into a booth near the back, away from the crowd. She still had the hat on, with her hood pulled over it, and he was dying to know what she was hiding underneath.

  Trying to make her feel more at ease, he shrugged his coat from his shoulders and placed it on the seat next to him. She watched his every move like a startled rabbit, and damn if that didn’t make him feel like the big bad wolf. “Why don’t you take your jacket off? It’s warm in here,” he suggested, sitting back to drape one arm over the back of the booth.

  “Why?” She said the word so quietly he had to strain to hear her.

  “Look, I already told you I wasn’t going to hurt you. Relax. You’ll get home safe and sound. Promise.” Those honey brown eyes flickered around the diner once again, but her hand went to the zipper of her sweatshirt. Slowly, she unzipped it, but hesitated when her hands went to the hood. She met his gaze and swallowed.

  He waited silently, not wanting to rush her. Trust was something she obviously didn’t give out freely. God, what had she been through to leave her so cold, hardened? It made him sick to even think about the things she’d endured, but they’d get to that eventually. He needed to gain her trust first.

  Seth held his breath when she slid the hood from her head before pulling the jacket off. A long sleek, black pony tail spilled from the back of the hat. She was even smaller without the sweatshirt, but still curved in all the right places. She was beautiful, it was easy to see, but he wanted to see more. The bulky ball cap was still pulled low, masking most of her features. “Take the hat off too.”

  Her eyes snapped to his once more, and he could practically see the protest on her lips. “Please, just humor me,” he crooned, hoping like hell she would just take that damn hat off. And she did. It took her a moment to mull it over, but finally she pulled the ball cap from her head, giving him the first real look at the woman he’d been nearly infatuated with for a month.

  Seth rubbed his hand over his chin, taking her in. She was even more beautiful than he had expected. Her skin was olive toned, flawless but for a small beauty mark on her left cheek. Her eyes were big, her lashes dark and thick. She had an exotic quality to her that had him clenching his jaw against the onslaught of lust that slammed into him unexpectedly. How did such a beautiful woman fall on such hard times?

  Trying to maintain an air of nonchalance, Seth waved the waitress over. She wasted no time making her way to their booth. With a big, warm smile on her face, the waitress pulled her pen and paper from her apron and propped a fist on her voluptuous hip.

  “Well, hello there, you two. My name is Karen,” she said sweetly, with an added wink. “Special tonight is a ham and cheese omelet with hash browns and a slice of homemade apple pie for dessert. Can I get you something to drink to start you off?” Her voice held a hint of a southern accent as she spoke. Seth listened, but couldn’t take his eyes off the woman sitting across the booth from him. She hadn’t looked up once since she had removed her hat. She sat staring at her lap, and it drove him crazy.

  “Do you want some coffee?” he asked, realizing that he didn’t even know her name yet. She didn’t look up or respond, keeping her gaze cast down. Seth reached across the table, knocking on the surface in front of her twice to get her attention. Her eyes snapped to him as she jumped slightly before her cheeks flushed pink.

  “What?” she asked, her eyes darting to the waitress and then back to him.

  Seth’s lips curled at the corners. “I asked if you wanted coffee.”

  Her pert little nose wrinkled in disgust. “I don’t like coffee.”

  “Is there something else you want then, sugar?” the waitress asked. “We have soda, lemonade, tea, hot chocolate…”

  She perked up at that, but was still hesitant. “Hot chocolate, please, but—” Panic seemed to set in as she cut her sentence short and turned her wide-eyed, worried gaze on him. Seth knew what she was going to say.

  Shaking his head softly he gave her a comforting smile. “I got it. Get whatever you want.”

  “Just hot chocolate,” she whispered, returning her gaze to her lap.

  Seth nodded. “All right. One hot chocolate, one coffee…and bring us a piece of that apple pie, would ya?”

  Karen grinned, winking knowingly. “Sure thing, sugar. I’ll be right back with that.” Seth stayed quiet for a moment after the waitress walked away. He wanted to know everything about her, but he’d have to start with the basics.

  “What’s your name?”

  “None of your business,” she retorted, twisting her ponytail around her fingers.

  Ah, there was the feisty little woman from last night. He was pleased to see her return. Her sharp tongue would flay him bare, no doubt, but that wasn’t going to stop him.

  Seth cocked his head to the side, a smirk pulling at his lips. “Oh I think it is, sweetheart. You owe me.”

  Her head lifted and those beautiful eyes narrowed. “For what?”

  “For keeping you out of jail,” he drawled. “Caught you stealing, remember? Twice, actually.”

  She stared at him, chewing the inside of her cheek before her full lips parted to speak. “Blackmail. I see how this works,” she muttered. Once again, her fingers went to her hair. “It’s Brittany.”

  Bullshit. Seth had been a cop long enough to know when someone was lying to him. “That’s a pretty name.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “You’re welcome,” he replied. “Now, tell me your real name.” Seth bit back a grin when she huffed out a breath and crossed her arms over her chest, making it apparent that she was losing patience with him. He ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. “You don’t have to tell me your last name, if that makes you feel better. I just want your first.”

  “I hate my name,” she sighed. “It’s stupid.”

  Seth smiled, leaning over the table toward her. “Oh, it can’t be that bad. Tell you what, how about I guess it?” She raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was an idiot. He tapped his fingertips on the table while he thought for a moment. “Okay, let’s see…Bertha?”

  Her lips quirked, but she stayed quiet.

  “No? Okay, then it must be Gertrude,” he teased with a wink. She just stared back at him, but she had a glimmer in her eye now. She was amused. “Is that it? I knew it. I’ll just call you Gertie then.” Seth sat back in his seat and watched as a slight smile tilted one side of her mouth. She was even prettier when she smiled.

  “It’s Monica,” she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear.

  “Monica,” he repeated, liking the way it rolled from his tongue. “That’s not a stupid name. I like it.”

  Monica cringed, looking slightly embarrassed. “It makes me sound like an old lady.”

  Seth feigned shock. “You mean you’re not? I had you pegged at like…forty.” Yeah, he was leading her. Years of interrogation work had taught him how to get info from people without them really knowing it. She wouldn’t be able to resist correcting him.

  As predicted, she took the bait, gasping in disbelief at his blatant dig. “I’m twenty-four, thank you very much,” she scoffed.

  Bingo. Worked every time. At least he was making some progress now. He had a name and an age…but the rest was going to take some time. She wasn’t going to give up too much about herself all at once.

  The waitress returned with their drinks and a slab of pie that was almost as big as Monica. He watched as she brought the steaming cup of chocolate to her lips before blowing gently on it and taking a sip. Everything she did was fascinating. God, what the hell was wrong with him? When she had set the cup back down, he put his hand across the table toward her. “It’s nice to meet you, Monica. My name’s Seth.”

  Monica glanced at his hand suspiciously, then to
his face without moving.

  Seth raised a brow. “I don’t bite…much.”

  She only hesitated for a moment, but eventually she brought her hand up, placing it in his. “Nice to meet you.” As quickly as she had made contact, Monica snatched her hand away, swallowing nervously. He noticed, however, how her eyes kept darting to the big clock on the far wall. She definitely had someone waiting on her. A man? The thought made his jaw clench, which was ridiculous. He was acting as though he’d put a claim on her. Shit, he needed to get his head straight and all he could focus on was what she would look like with her hair down, loose over her shoulders.

  “Eat something,” Seth said, pushing the enormous slice of pie toward her.

  She shook her head, twirling her dark, silky hair around her index finger again. It was a nervous habit, one that she unconsciously did when she was lying. He’d already figured that out. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Why do you keep lying to me?” he asked, pinning her with his stare.

  Monica frowned, pulling her gaze away from him. “I’m not lying.”

  Seth glanced at her hand, which was twisting in her ponytail like a corkscrew. “You play with your hair when you’re lying.”

  Monica’s hand dropped to her lap, her mouth flattening into a thin line. “I do not.”

  Seth chuckled, loving the way her hackles raised when she was defensive. “Yes you do. You were doing it when you told me your name was Brittany, you started again when you said you weren’t hungry, and you were doing it last night when you told me you didn’t need any help. You don’t even know you’re doing it.”