Disorderly Conduct (The Anna Albertini Files Book 1)

by Rebecca Zanetti

  “Fuck. Where is she?” The pocked guy asked.

  I needed to get that gun if they found me. How? My mind spun. Then, blessed sirens sounded in the distance. Finally.

  “Get back to the car!” Flat Face bellowed the order to Pocked Face. They took off for Thelma’s fence at a dead run.

  The rain beat down on me while I waited to make sure they were gone. I winced at the blood mixed with fresh mud on my hands. Then I slowly descended, the bark digging into my legs. Suddenly, my hands slipped on a branch, and I tumbled to the ground. I hit with a thud. The air whooshed painfully out of my lungs. I lay in the mud and let the rain splatter me for a second. Nothing felt broken.

  A flurry of activity sounded, coming from the duplex and around the fence. “Anna!” Detective Pierce bellowed.

  “Here.” I started to sit up.

  He reached me in a second, his gaze worried and running over me. “What the hell?”

  I probably did look like a mess. “I swear to God, Pierce, if you kiss me, I’m just done,” I muttered. First Aiden, then Nick, and now the hottie detective. What was it with the enormous amount of testosterone in my life right now?

  He straightened up. “What?”

  Yeah. That probably didn’t make any sense. I flopped back down and planted an arm over my eyes, more than happy to stay in the mud if everyone would go away. “Between the Brazilian from hell and falling from the tree, everything I have just hurts.” Yeah, I sounded a little pathetic.

  Pierce sighed. Rather loudly. “There’s a cream called Lupo that can help with the Brazilian.”

  It took a second for his words to register. I slowly moved my arm down so I could blink into the rain and see him. What was up with these guys all knowing about those type of creams? “Are you serious?”

  He nodded, his eyes twinkling. Who knew the detective even had a sense of humor? For once, he actually looked approachable. “You can order it online. I have a first aid kit in the car if you need bandages anywhere else. For now, how about we get you out of the rain?”

  I needed to start thinking before speaking. Seriously. “Tell me Melvin Whitaker isn’t dead in there.” I couldn’t take another dead body. Not a chance.

  “Nope. The place looked tossed as I ran through it, but no dead body.”

  Thank goodness. “Okay.” Well, that was something.

  “Come on, Anna. Let’s get you into the car.” While his voice was gentle, it held that clear command he always seemed to have. The cop was kind of bossy. Maybe it was the approximate fifteen-year age difference between us that gave him that tone.

  “Fine.” I accepted his proffered hand as uniformed officers began to mill around. “I don’t need a bandage, although tweezers would be nice to get the splinters from my palms.” Now that I was somewhat safe, all sorts of aches and pains roared to life. My right leg really hurt from where I scraped it on the rough bark.

  “You need a doctor?” he asked, whipping out of his light jacket to drape over my shoulders. Pierce smelled like the ocean breeze—salty and fresh.

  I shook my head and surveyed my destroyed clothing. “No. I’m okay.”

  “Good.” He steered me around, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Let’s get you to the station to make a statement. We have tweezers there.”

  Chapter 26

  After a grueling session with Detective Pierce, one Nick Basanelli interrupted half-way through to conduct his own set of questioning, I went home absolutely exhausted. At least I’d been able to pick all the slivers and bark out of my hands before spraying them with antibacterial stuff the police kept available.

  Nick’s newest lecture on staying out of the investigative side of my job had only irritated me. Part of my job was helping to investigate.

  My day just got worse when I saw the motorcycle parked in front of my garage. Come on. Wincing, I got out of my car and headed for the porch.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Aiden stood from his position on the porch swing.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” I snapped.

  His frown darkened as he caught sight of my filthy foot. “I’m not sure. Just wanted to check on you.”

  Wasn’t that sweet? I felt like punching him right in the face. I shrugged, my teeth started to chatter; whether from wet clothes or delayed shock, I wasn’t sure. His eyebrows lifted, and he grasped my arm to propel me forward. We walked into the warm kitchen. The aroma of stew from the crockpot hit me instantly. Man, I was hungry.

  Aiden sniffed the air like a wolf with a scent. “What is that?”

  “Tuscan Soup.” I had thrown the ingredients into the crockpot before heading to work earlier. Man, what if Nick was right? What if I could get through to Aiden for answers? I didn’t like myself very much for thinking that way, but I had just been chased through the woods by a couple of killers. So, why not? “Would you like to stay for dinner?”

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Why don’t you open a bottle of wine while I change?” I nodded at my wine rack—I needed a drink. I started limping forward with my decrepit sandal. My other foot left a brown squishy trail in my wake.

  A hand on my arm stopped me, and I looked up into concerned blue eyes. “Are you injured anywhere?”

  The sweetness threatened to shake my resolve, and the temptation to snuggle into his big chest caught me hard. I shook my head. “No, just cold.”

  A frown settled between his brows as he pulled a stick out of my hair. “Where does it hurt?”

  Everywhere. “Um, I may have a couple of bruises.”

  He grasped my wrists with the lightest of touches, turning over my hands. Raw, red scrapes slashed across both palms, even though they’d been treated at the police station.

  Everything around him stilled. Even the air. I gulped.

  He lifted his gaze, a muscle spasming in his jaw. “Where else?”

  I shrugged. Aiden angled his head to the side, staring at my legs. My knees started to tremble.

  His eyes fired. “Do I need to kill somebody?”

  I huffed out a laugh. He didn’t even smile.

  “Um, no.” He had to be joking. Didn’t he? It figured his time of being my hero was long past. The hint that he’d like to be one again gave proof to Nick’s analysis of him. Just great.

  “What happened, Angel?” Aiden asked.

  The trembling moved north until even my shoulders shook. “I don’t think I can talk about it.” Yeah, I wanted to trust him. At this point, I couldn’t trust anybody. Except maybe Detective Pierce, and we didn’t even like each other.

  Aiden nodded once. Not like he was agreeing; more like he was having an internal conversation. “We’ll see. Are you in danger now?”

  “Right this second?” Not if Aiden wasn’t a threat.

  “Yes,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

  “No. The police arrived in time.” I didn’t like this conversation. “Of course, maybe you know the guys who chased me. They were the men from the brown van who shot at us the other day.” Then I watched him closely.

  Just surprise and then something darker crossed his face. “I don’t know them.” His thumb ran through the mud on my chin. “You weren’t followed home?”

  “No.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.” Kind of. If they’d wanted to stop me from identifying them or saying they were at Melvin’s today, it was too late. There was no reason to seek me out now. “Are you sure you don’t know them? I mean, you described them well, and maybe they were shooting at you?”

  He straightened. “No. They were shooting at Randy Taylor.”

  “Either Randy or you, Aiden.” I studied his face for any hint of a lie. “They were at Melvin Whitaker’s house today. You know him, right?”

  “Why were you at his house?” A muscle ticked in Aiden’s jaw as he didn’t answer my question.

  Wrong place and wrong time? “Just doing my job.”

  “That ain’t your job, and you need to stick to the courtroom
. For now, I’ll find out who they are,” he said.

  “Not your job. Bad guys are bad guys. I can handle it.” I just didn’t have the energy to question him right now. “Aiden, I’m freezing. Pour the wine, I’ll be right back.”

  He paused. “People aren’t all good or all bad, Anna. Ever.” He released my hands.

  “We’ll have to agree to disagree on that one.” My job depended on it. I hobbled through the great room, my bedroom, and into the bathroom. I gasped in dismay at my bathroom mirror. It was even worse than I’d feared.

  My hair frizzed around my face in frightening angles, loaded with sticks and bark. Mud smeared across one of my cheeks and down my windbreaker. A jagged rip ran through my jeans, and my remaining sandal was filthy. Bark and clumps of bushes stuck haphazardly throughout the mud, completing the disastrous look. My eyes were wide, frightened in my pale face.

  I shimmied out of my wet clothes, and hopped in the shower, moaning as hot water cascaded over my battered body. My shoulder and hip already sported deep purple bruises, and one leg held raised red abrasions. Scratches and long cuts stung my knees and hands. But the water balmed some of the hurt.

  I hurriedly washed the mud out of my hair before turning the shower off. Then I let myself turn the shower back on, sit on the floor, and then bawl. Everything hurt, people were trying to kill me, and I just couldn’t handle it.

  Finally, I wound down, feeling somewhat better. Lifting my face to the cooling spray, I settled my shoulders. All right. I’d been kidnapped at ten and had survived that.

  I could survive this.

  Turning off the cool water, I stepped out of the shower and dried off with a fluffy white towel. Then I wrapped it around me while walking into the bedroom. There I threw on panties and eyed clean jeans. But my blue striped pajama pants beckoned from the bed, and my body just hurt. I quickly donned them, the matching tank top and some thick comfy socks. To complete the look, I wrapped a thick sweatshirt around my torso like a fuzzy knitted hug.

  I dodged back into the bathroom and ran a comb through my curls, figuring I’d rather eat dinner than dry my hair. I swallowed three Advil dry and then put a couple of bandages on my palms, noting the scrapes weren’t so bad with all of the bark and dirt gone. A swipe of gloss didn’t help my face enough. With a shrug, I headed out to face Aiden.

  How many times through the years had I fantasized about domestic bliss with him? Man, I really was crazy.

  He had set the table, and a bottle of Shiraz breathed on the counter. Leaning against the wall, he crossed his arms and watched me walk into the kitchen, his eyes sharp and his face thoughtful. He seemed solid and somewhat safe in his black shirt, dark jeans, and flak boots. My mind reeled; I wasn’t sure what questions to ask him. Maybe he’d feel pity and just roll over and confess everything. I hoped he didn’t have much to confess.

  He just couldn’t be bad.

  I tried for a reassuring smile, reaching into the freezer for a bag of homemade rolls, liking the feel of the cold bag on my aching palms. They went into the microwave before I stirred the stew. It was my Nana’s recipe. Gravied beef, roasted carrots, and puffy potatoes scented the air, and I ladled two big bowls and handed them to Aiden to put on the table. He poured the wine, and I placed the heated rolls onto a large plate before crossing to the table and sitting down. He followed suit.

  We ate in silence for a few minutes, and the stew warmed me.

  He grinned. “This is delicious.”

  “Thanks.”

  “It’s actually homemade,” he murmured.

  “Yep. I like to cook, Aiden.”

  He took a sip of his wine, his eyes focused on me. “So.”

  “What do you know about a drug called Beast?” I asked, too tired to worry if I was going to tick him off.

  He jerked and then lost all expression.

  “That much, huh?” I muttered. “You were arrested for possessing it, and I have to assume the Lordes are distributing it. How about you do the right thing and become an informant?” That way we could get the bad guys, and hopefully I could help Aiden out.

  “I’m not an informant, sweetheart.” He poured more wine for us both. “The drugs they found on the raid weren’t in my room.”

  “You’re a Lorde, a Defender, and you’re responsible for the entire complex.” I hadn’t even had a trial yet, and even I could make that stick in court. I set my fork down. “Seriously, Aiden. How did you end up in a motorcycle gang that’s running drugs? Why?” It hurt somehow. To think the guy I’d dreamed about for so long had turned out to be a criminal doing something that would hurt people.

  He sighed. “You don’t know anything about me.”

  “I know you lived in Ireland until you were fourteen and came to live with your grandma in Silverville when your parents died,” I said. “You were quiet and kind of rebellious, and you saved my life. That’s as much as I know.”

  “My parents didn’t die,” he said, sipping his wine. “Well, my mom died when I was a toddler, but as far as I know, my dad is still alive. He beat the crap out of me to the point that my Grams got custody.” Setting down his glass, he shrugged, his eyes harder than I’d ever seen them. “I came here, made a few friends, got in a little bit of trouble, and then left when Grams died.”

  I leaned forward, my heart hurting for him. But he was finally answering some questions. “Before you left town so suddenly, were you boosting cars in the city?” I’d never believed it.

  His grin showed the charm he seemed to try and hide. “Listen, counselor.”

  I shook my head. “That was years and years ago. If you had been boosting cars, the statute of limitations has run.” Curiosity finally perked me up.

  “Huh.” He sat back, studying me. “Then, yeah. I was boosting cars.”

  My mouth dropped open, and I quickly shut it. Trying to remain composed, I breathed out. “So, it was true? The sheriff was right?”

  Aiden chuckled. “Yeah. That old asshole wanted to put me away regardless, but in that case, he was right. My mistake was in stealing a car out of Silverville. It was the sheriff’s aunt’s car, actually.” He snorted. “I was part of a group out of Spokane stealing cars. We were paid a set amount, depending on the car, when we delivered them to a chop shop in the Tri-Cities. I’m sure the place closed down eons ago.”

  “I, uh—” I didn’t have any words. My temples started to hurt.

  He kind of ducked his head. “Yeah, sorry. I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

  No. It really wasn’t. “I defended you. To everybody,” I murmured, trying to be angry but just not finding the energy at the moment. Tomorrow, I’d get pissed. That was a good plan.

  “Thanks for the defense.” He set his napkin down. “I don’t suppose you’ll be kissing me goodnight?”

  Man, he was sexy. He really was. “Maybe,” I said.

  His eyes darkened to the color the lake got once a year right before winter. “Really?”

  I was tired, I was hurting, and I was done. For years, I’d dreamed of him, and now he was here and right in front of me. The past was coming back, too fast to stop. He was the only good thing from a day that wouldn’t leave me alone.

  Maybe I didn’t want him to leave me alone. “You know, Aiden? I’m going to keep drinking. You should, too.” I filled our glasses again.

  He shrugged, looking big and dangerous and distant. “As much as I’d love to find your g-spot, baby, this is a bad idea.”

  Maybe I just didn’t want to stay alone with danger out there. No. It was Aiden. I didn’t want him to leave. “Suck it up, Devlin. Either take a drink or get out.” Man, I was tough all of a sudden.

  He took a big drink. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, Angel. No way will you be in danger. You can trust me to take care of it, but you’re gonna want me to do that distantly. Stay smart and stay away from me.”

  Being smart wasn’t getting me anywhere. “No.” I tipped back the glass and let the heated wine explode down my t
hroat.

  Consequences could screw off. For now.

  Chapter 27

  I awoke comfortably warm in my bed. The last thing I remembered was swigging more wine with Aiden the night before. Awareness filtered through my haze. A large male body wrapped around me from behind, hence, the warmth. One strong hand cupped my breast, spreading heat through me everywhere.

  I stretched a bit against the hardness behind me, and then froze, at the hardness behind me. Morning wood at its finest.

  My movements awoke him. He pulled me closer, murmuring drowsily against the back of my neck, the fingers on my breast seeking and easily finding my nipple. Liquid heat shot straight south from his hand as his lips moved leisurely across my ear.

  I took a moment and tried to think. A large t-shirt covered me, my underwear was on, and Aiden wore briefs that did nothing to conceal his impressive length. His chest felt hot and bare against my back. Mine ached heavy and full.

  In a smooth motion, he pulled me onto my back and rolled on top of me. His dark hair fell rakishly over his forehead. Even in the early hour, his eyes were the clear blue of the purest sea.

  “Um, did we…” I tried to ignore the hard body over me. It was impossible to ignore.

  “Not yet,” he grinned, the dimples flashing in his strong face. I figured they were a rare sight and thought it safer for womankind that way.

  He pressed into me, and my eyes rolled back into my head. Then he leaned down and kissed me gently. One broad hand slid down the side of my body before cupping my rear to pull me even closer against him. Heat met heat. You couldn’t get more direct than that.

  I fought the whimper wanting loose and tried to focus my eyes on his.

  “If you want to stop me, say it now,” he said softly against my mouth as his hand started to knead. “I didn’t take advantage of you last night because you were toasted, but you’re sober now, and this is your decision.”

  My mind questioned what I should do. My body told my mind to shut the hell up. There were some experiences a girl shouldn’t miss.