by J. L. Drake
“Yeah, like you rocked it at paintball,” Quinn says, winking. “Heard Cole was livid, though.”
“It was fun.” I grin, remembering the rush. “He was pretty upset, but he cooled off.”
“You’re not scared of him, are you?” Al asks, amazed. I don’t want to act like I know about Cole’s background story. I know there is a lot more to him than that.
“Of Cole? No, why would I be?”
Al sets his fork down. “I’ve watched him snap a man’s neck as he strolled by like it was nothing.” I close my eyes at the image. “He’s not exactly warm and fuzzy.”
“I spent seven months with men who made me beg for my next meal and beat me so I could hardly walk. So, no, Cole doesn’t scare me at all. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”
“Point taken,” Al adds quickly. “If it counts, I really like your cookies.”
I laugh, and York looks a little irritated. I ignore him.
“Thanks. So, what is it that you guys normally do?”
“We’re normally traveling and aren’t often at the house,” Dell answers. “It’s nice to have a break. We step in when Team Blackstone is called out.”
Blackstone. “How often is Blackstone called out?” I ask, sipping my wine.
“Depends. They’re the Alpha team here at Shadows. They handle the high-risk stuff, and they’re called out, oh, maybe once or twice a month.” Dell takes a swig of beer. “We’re at a level five because of your case. Things are a bit tense along the border. Los Sirvientes Del Diablos are stirring up a lot of dust since you dropped off their radar.”
“I still don’t understand why I’m such a big deal to them. You’d think they’d cut their losses and move on. Christ, it’s just fifty grand.”
“No, Savannah, you’re worth more to them than just fifty grand. I mean, they’re blackmailing—”
“Dell!” York snaps.
I flinch and knock over my empty water glass. What the hell?
“Sorry, Quinn, ah…did you catch the game last night?” Dell tries lamely to change the topic.
“Oh, no,” I hold my hand up to York, “you don’t get to shut him up. This case involves me, and I get to hear all the details. Dell—out with it.”
“Not a word, Dell,” York warns.
“Stop, York,” I hiss. “Who are they blackmailing? My father? Lynn? Why? With what?”
Dell shakes his head. “I’m really sorry, Savannah, I shouldn’t have said anything—”
“Like hell you shouldn’t.”
“Savannah, enough.” York stands and places his hands on the table, staring me down.
I stand also and meet his stare. My hands are vibrating with anger.
“Shut your mouth.”
Abigail suddenly leaves the table.
“Pardon me?” The table grows silent. “Why are you angry? Because Dell didn’t trap me on the patio to tell me this?”
His eyes narrow at me as he clenches his fists.
“Stop, or I’ll make you shut up.” He bites out each word.
I raise my chin, feeling my emotions change. I need to pull off a huge lie.
“You. Don’t. Scare. Me,” I say as I hold my gaze steady on his.
“I should.” A few of the guys rise to their feet, ready to step in if need be.
I smile sweetly. “You’ll never fill that chair the way he does.” I toss my napkin on the table. “Excuse me, guys.”
I make my way down the hallway. My high is quickly being replaced with the fear I said I didn’t have. I look down at my wobbly legs and run smack into something hard. I snap back, but I get jolted forward into the arms of the biggest, scariest tattooed man I’ve ever laid eyes on. His arms are huge; he looks like he bathes in steroids. He is tatted up from his smoothly shaved head to, I’m guessing, his toes. Holy mother of shit.
“Umm,” is all I can get out before I find my voice. “I really, really hope you’re Mike.”
He grins widely and helps me steady myself. “Yup. I got word York was at you again.”
I roll my eyes. “That man hates me. I bet he’d buy me a plane ticket to The American himself if he could get away with it.”
He laughs loudly. “You really get under his skin, and we all love it.” His expression turns serious. “Did he threaten you?”
I look down. The last thing I need is this getting back to Cole.
“Look—we had words. He’ll cool off, and tomorrow’s another day.” I can see him thinking.
“You know Cole can watch the security tapes of the house from where he’s at, right?”
“Let’s not give him a reason to lose focus on the job he’s doing, okay?”
He nods, and it seems like he agrees with me.
“There’s a radio in the kitchen by the intercom. If you change it to our numbers, you can get us directly. Seven is Keith and I’m Six. You need us, you call us. Deal?”
“Okay, deal. Thanks, Mike.”
The next day, I avoid York as much as possible. I hear Cole’s team finally checked in at eleven the night before. I can tell things aren’t going exactly to plan by Keith’s tone when I enter the kitchen this morning. He and Abigail both appear stressed, although they assure me everything is fine. I don’t press it.
Abigail and I decide to have dinner in the entertainment room and watch some of our favorite movies.
“When does your sister arrive?” I ask, stabbing a piece of lettuce with my fork.
“In two days. She’ll be here for Thanksgiving and stay for a few months. That’s pretty normal for her. We’re really close.”
Lynn flashes in my memory. I quickly tuck that emotion aside.
“Cole’s parents will be here too, and you’ll get to meet his mother, Sue. She’s lovely, warmhearted, and a pretty smart lady. She’s quick and sees a lot.”
“Living here, you would have to be,” I joke. “How did you even start working here, Abigail? I mean, it’s not like a position here would be listed in an employment ad in the local newspaper.”
“No, definitely not,” she laughs. “I started working for the Logans when Cole was six. As he got older and didn’t need a nanny anymore, they moved me here. I love it. These boys are like the kids I never had.”
“Mark’s your favorite, isn’t he?” I ask, knowing I’m right.
“I do have a weak spot for Mark, mainly because he and Cole have been best friends for about twenty-three years. Mark’s mother wasn’t around much, and his father left when he was born, so he always looked at me like a parent.” She sets her plate on the couch and turns to me, grinning. “Can you keep a secret?”
“Of course.” I’m excited for a little girl talk.
“Mark met a girl a little while ago. They’ve been talking. Her name is Melanie. She works in town, so one day I decided to check her out, you know, make sure she’s good enough for my boy. Well, I found her working at the coffee shop. She’s tall, slim, with red hair—sweet little thing, and I did something.” She stops, her expression guilty.
“What did you do?” I can barely wait to find out.
“I introduced myself to her. We ended up talking for twenty minutes after her shift, and I invited her to Thanksgiving dinner.” She cups her mouth. “He’s going to kill me!”
“Oh, my God.” I burst out laughing. “That’s classic! Do you think she’ll show?”
“I do.” She wipes a tear away. “Oh, Lord, Savi, what do I do?”
“Maybe Mark will invite her, and you’ll be off the hook.”
“She did mention he was hinting around—”
“Wait! Back up a second.” I shake my head. “I don’t understand how you’re able to invite someone to come here to the house for dinner.”
“Oh, no, sorry. Daniel’s best friend, Zack, has a restaurant and bar here in town. They have great food. Plus, it’s a huge break for me.”
“Oh, I see. Well, maybe we can blame John.” We both burst out laughing. Poor John. He got in some shit over the paintball game too. Guess Mar
k didn’t take all the blame.
“Perhaps.” Her expression shifts. “These boys work really hard, and they do a lot of the things an average person can’t. Holidays, no matter how big or small, I try to make sure they’re celebrated because they deserve to have some downtime to just be themselves.” She raises her eyebrow at me. “I think that’s why I invited Melanie. I want Mark to find someone he can come home to someday. So, I’m just giving him a little push.” She chuckles. “Isn’t that what parents do?”
“I think it’s sweet.” I just love Abigail, and I can’t wait to meet her sister June.
Chapter Ten
Savannah
A pounding headache wakes me out of a dead sleep, and I crawl out of bed feeling lightheaded. I make my way to the kitchen where Abigail has a stash of Advil in her personal cabinet above the stove. I down three and drink two glasses of water then sink into a chair, propping my head on my hands. A movement to my left brings me fully alert.
“Well, if it isn’t Savannah Miller, case number 22571,” York mutters, leaning against the wall and holding a beer. I immediately get the impression it isn’t his first.
I’m not in the mood for him, so I stand and move toward the hallway, but he slides over, forcing me to change route to the living room instead.
“You’re awfully quiet now, aren’t you, pretty lady?” He follows behind me then steps in my way. I stop trying to go around him and head for the stairs, going down two at a time.
I don’t know where I am going; I just don’t want to be alone with him. I slip into an office and shut the door behind me, but his shoe stops it from closing, and he slams it open. “Oh, Savi, you don’t seem so brave now.”
“Move, York,” I order. I raise my chin and square my shoulders as he steps toward me, taking a sip of his beer.
“Or what? You weigh a buck twenty soaking wet. I could blow and you’d fall over.”
I hold up my hands as I feel the desk hit the back of my thighs.
“Not so brave when you don’t have your knight here, huh?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I whisper, feeling like an ass. What a stupid line that is.
“So, you’re saying that you and Cole aren’t fucking?”
I cringe at his tone.
“Well, that changes things, then.” Before I know what is happening, he yanks me to him and crushes his lips to mine.
The mix of beer and his cologne nearly brings my dinner up. I push, pound, and kick, trying to get him off, but he has me pinned. His hands start to roam. Oh, shit. I shove my knee up and drive it in his crotch as I bite down hard on his lower lip. He cries out as he falls backward. I leap over him and dash for the hallway, not getting three feet before his arm snags around my waist, and he slams me into the wall. Air rushes out of my lungs from the impact.
He grips my arms hard and lifts me off my feet, looking angrier than I’ve ever seen him. Blood drips from his lip. I got him pretty good.
“You’re fair game, Savannah. There hasn’t been a woman like you here before—young and real pretty. I rather like it.” His grip tightens on my arms, and I can’t help but cry out. It only makes him squeeze tighter. “I think I’m going to claim you as mine.”
Oh, what? Seriously? We hate each other!
“Get your hands off me!” I cry.
He laughs as he drops me to my feet and presses his erection into my stomach.
“Screw off, York!” I hit his chest hard, but he reaches down and rips my shirt open as he traps my arms at my sides and slowly runs his gaze down my body. I am so thankful I wore a bra to bed tonight. He lets go with one hand to undo his belt.
“Stop it! No, York!” I start to cry when I realize he actually intends to follow through. “Please, York, no. Don’t do this.”
He is fumbling with the buckle, cursing at me to shut up.
I take the opportunity and knee him again, hard. This time he falls backward, tumbling into the wall. I run in a full sprint up the stairs, across the living room to the other set of stairs in the entryway. I wrap my ripped shirt around me. When I get close to the bedrooms, I hear Abigail’s door open just as I reach my door. I slam the door and lock it behind me, sliding down to the floor, sobbing and out of breath. Unable to think straight, I don’t know what to do. I haven’t been that terrified since I was back in my prison room.
“No,” I hiss, squeezing my eyes shut. Not now. I can’t go back there. Stay in the present!
“Savannah,” York whispers from outside my door.
My eyes pop open, and my heart pounds in my throat.
“Open the door.” He rattles the doorknob. “I can hear you breathing.” His voice is oddly calm, considering he has had two hard blows to the crotch. “You know I can pick this lock in a heartbeat.” I scramble off the floor, hop to my feet, and frantically feel around the wooden panel for the key code. The knob rattles again. Finally, the panel flips down, and I punch in the code 8986 twice before I get it right. The door pops open, and I slip into the darkness.
My trembling fingers feel my way around the wall. There must be a light switch, but I don’t want to chance anyone seeing me. I find the little library room that belongs to Cole’s mother. When the door closes behind me, a tiny glow shines from a light in the corner, and I flop down on the pillows, curl into a ball, and cry myself to sleep.
“Ouch,” I whimper as I roll onto my back. My eyes feel dry and puffy as they adjust to the soft glow. Gold lines make a beautiful Indian pattern along the ceiling. I gasp when I realize I’m not in my room, as the memories of last night come rushing back to me. I lift my hands to cover my face and feel the pain in my arms. Looking down at the pair of black and blue handprints—one on each arm—I can’t believe I escaped him. Shit! I scramble to stand on shaky legs. My head is fuzzy, and I retch as I wait for the dizziness pass. I sneak out of the library and stand outside my room. I put my ear to the door, listening to hear if anyone is in there. It sounds clear, so I punch in the code and slip inside.
Everything looks okay. Nothing has been moved, my unmade bed reminding me of what almost happened. My stomach drops when I see the time—ten thirty! Oh, God, I hope Abigail hasn’t come up to check on me yet. I rush into the shower after grabbing a blue tank top with a grey sweater that ties in the front. I know there will be no blow drying my hair today because of my arms. It will have to dry wavy. I stand in front of my door, trying to convince myself to go downstairs and face everyone. I am beyond mortified that someone might see the security tapes. I need to figure something out.
“Good morning, Savannah.” Dell smiles as he reaches for the OJ in the fridge. “Sorry about last night.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Dell,” I reassure him. “Where is everyone?”
“If you mean York, he’s been in Cole’s office all morning. I think he’s nursing a hangover, because he’s hurting today.” He laughs. “Serves him right. He gets such a power trip whenever Cole’s gone.”
Good. I hope his balls are swollen to the size of grapefruits.
“Yeah, he sure does,” I mutter. “Hey, do you have any pain medication that’s stronger than Advil?”
He stops mid-bite.
“Why, did you hurt yourself?”
I look away, not wanting to lie, but my arms really ache.
“Isn’t there any goddamn ice in this place?” York yells from down the hall.
My stomach turns as fear kicks in.
“You know what? Never mind.” I head for the stairs and up to my room. Once my door is locked, I start to shake. How am I going to live in this house with him? I crawl onto my bed and concentrate on my breathing.
“Savi.” Abigail shakes my arm.
“Ouch,” I cry out, and my eyes open, seeing her puzzled face.
“Sorry, but it’s time for dinner.”
I roll back over, wincing in pain. “I’m not hungry.”
“Savannah Miller,” she whips out her mother tone, “I know for a fact that you haven’t
eaten a thing today. I don’t know what’s going on with you, but I will not leave this room unless you are with me.”
I sigh and pull myself up quickly before she can touch me again.
“Care to share?” she asks as we walk down the hallway, her expression questioning.
“Not really.” I pull my sweater tighter around me. “Sorry.” I feel badly not being able to share what happened, but it’s still too raw, and God knows what she would do.
We walk into the living room to find Dell and Quinn talking to Cole. My stomach jumps. They’re back! Abigail winks as she walks by. Oh, man, she’s good. But as my excitement rises, my nerves do too.
“Hey, you.” Mark leans in, giving me a peck on the cheek as he hands me a martini. “You look like you could use something stronger than wine tonight.”
I take a long sip of the heavenly drink.
“Guess I was right,” he remarks.
“When did you guys get in?” I ask, watching Cole’s back. He still hasn’t spotted me.
“Thirty minutes ago.” He shakes his head. “It was a rough trip. Glad we were able to come home early.”
“Rough?”
“Honestly, you don’t want to know.”
I probably don’t.
“Come on.” He tugs on my arm, and I flinch as he walks me over to Dell, Quinn, and Cole. I scan the room for York.
Cole looks tired, but when he catches sight of me, the smile that runs across his face makes my stomach warm. “Hey.” His eyes dance over me.
“Welcome back.”
“As promised,” he whispers so only I can hear him. I can’t help the smile that sneaks out as I take a drink.
“You.” Keith points at me, rushing up to our group. “You want to explain how you dropped off the radar this morning?”
Fuck! I shake my head and look around. Luckily, no one is paying attention. Abigail has turned some music on, and it drowns out his voice.
Cole looks at me then Keith.
“I-I got up early and went for a walk by the lake.”
