DNA... “Wasn’t he in the system?”
“Not his DNA. That’s why we keep hoping he’ll mess up and they’ll find prints. Unfortunately, he’s been really good about leaving the scenes clean... in a way.”
Scenes. Steel didn’t like the sound of that, either.
Berger continued, “Whoever he is, he keeps finding her and delivering ‘presents.’”
His gut twisted, starting to clue in with how big this problem might be. “Presents?”
“Not anything joyous, like Christmas presents. Let me give you some background first. It started with a letter, then it moved to phone calls and texts from a restricted number. Her phone number has been changed twice. So far, he hasn’t gotten her latest one because we put her new account in her cousin’s name. A cousin who lives in Indiana and doesn’t have the same last name. Besides breaking into her apartment—”
“Was she home?”
He shook his head. “No, luckily. But maybe he plans it that way? So, besides that, we’ve found her car damaged twice. And equipment, like her gloves, have been stolen from locker rooms, from both previous gyms or venues. Personal items, like panties, sports bras, have also been stolen.”
“This sounds personal and the conclusion is he’s a sick fuck.”
“I haven’t told you about these gifts yet. His personal calling card.”
He fucking couldn’t wait to hear what the sicko’s calling card was.
Chocolate? Hallmark cards? Hair? Teeth?
“It’s semen.”
“Semen as in cum? Not leaving body parts behind of Navy guys, right? ‘Cause I know a SEAL who... Never mind.” Steel reminded himself that he needed to behave professionally. “You don’t think she knows him personally?”
“Because of what he leaves behind, the police called him a predatory stalker. And, no, I don’t think she knows him at all. I can only assume they crossed paths at some point. But that’s not hard to do with who she is.”
“Who she is?” Steel repeated.
“Yes, her being a well-known athlete.”
Steel wanted to correct him on that one, but he didn’t. He had no fucking clue who Kat was. Still didn’t. So, she was no “well-known athlete.” Not like Serena Williams or Muhammad Ali.
“Some of the pictures he sent her were of him masturbating in her bedroom. She came home to find dried semen on her sheets.”
Steel fought his cringe.
“He sent her a picture of a blow-up doll with a picture of her face glued to it. Semen all over the face. Those are just examples. Once he couldn’t text or call anymore, he began to email through the contact page on her website. Plus, post letters on her door. Put them on her car. In her locker. He seems to be everywhere. Always watching.”
“And she’s not scared?” Because any woman in her right mind should be scared with what Berger had told him so far. And Steel was sure it wasn’t everything.
“She says she’s not. But if she is, she doesn’t show it. Which makes me worry because I think she’d be more careful if she was. She sees him as annoying but not a physical threat. She thinks he would’ve gotten physical by now if he was.”
Maybe, maybe not. “How long has this been going on?”
“Almost a year.”
What the fuck? “And you’re only now getting her some protection?”
He might have asked that a little too harshly, since Berger’s expression turned annoyed. Well, fuck him. Steel was just as annoyed at Kat’s manager for not getting her protection sooner.
“We thought the police would do their job. They haven’t and I’m tired of waiting. I bug them constantly.”
The detective assigned to Kat’s case probably had a full caseload. Most detectives were overworked since police departments tended to be understaffed in most areas. “Who has these letters?”
“The police have most of the originals. I have a feeling she’s thrown some away and not told me about them. I have copies of what the police have in a safe at home. But I also scanned them and kept them electronically.”
Smart. “Email them to me. And forward any emails the guy sent through her website. I want to see everything you have.”
“I didn’t hire you to investigate this. I only want you to keep her safe.”
“She’ll be kept safe. But I also need to know what we’re dealing with to do so.” She’d be much safer if this stalker was found and arrested. Or taken out, so he didn’t do the same thing to anyone else in the future. “You said she’s got a cousin in Indiana. She have other family?”
“Yes, but... she hasn’t gone home in a long time.”
Again, she was smart not leading him home to her family. “Couldn’t he find that shit out online?”
“Probably, but she’s always kept her personal info online to a minimum. She stays as private as possible. She loves to compete, she loves to win, but she’s not in it for fame.”
“What’s she in it for? The money?”
“The money pays the bills, but no, she’s out to prove to herself and others she can do it.”
“She doubted herself?”
“She doesn’t talk about it, but no, I think others doubted her.”
“Family?”
“She’s never said.”
Berger was lying. He knew something more about that but apparently wasn’t willing to share.
Before he could dig deeper, Steel caught Kat standing in the open doorway before Berger did. He wondered if she heard the last part of the conversation. She didn’t look happy, but then Steel wouldn’t be happy, either, if someone was assigned to babysit him.
“Are you ready, Kat?” Berger called out.
“Sure,” she said, her body language as tight as her answer.
As she turned to head back into the main gym area, Steel quickly asked Berger, “So, I’m on the job?”
Berger only hesitated for a second before saying, “You’re on the job.”
It might not have been said with a lot of enthusiasm but it was all he needed to hear.
“Kat!” Steel shouted.
After a few seconds, she stuck her head back into the doorway.
“You don’t go anywhere without me. You don’t ever walk away without me following you, understood?”
One dark eyebrow lifted, and she moved to stand in the doorway, her hands on her hips, dripping defiance.
“Don’t need the attitude. Just need you to tell me you understand and agree.”
Her gaze slid to Berger, who took an audible breath and said, “Kat, please.”
Kat closed her eyes, said nothing, but remained where she stood.
“Need your email,” Berger said.
Steel dug out his wallet and a business card. He handed it over to Berger. “That has the business email on it. Email everything there. Boss’s woman will forward everything to me, this way the whole team can take a look at the letters. They might catch something I don’t.”
“Do you have investigative skills, Steel? Because I wasn’t prepared to pay extra for that.”
“I can tell you, if my team and I can solve the problem faster, it’ll save you some scratch in the long run. It’ll be less time you’ll have to pay for her protection.”
“Good point.”
“I’ve got them occasionally.”
Berger lowered his voice and turned away from the woman still impatiently waiting in the doorway. “Before you take Kat home, let me give you a piece of advice. She’s smart, she’s capable. Don’t underestimate her. And definitely don’t treat her like she’s just a piece of ass. Life will be a lot easier if you don’t piss her off.”
“Know that from experience?”
“Fuck yes,” Berger answered with a grimace.
“Roger that.”
Chapter Three
Steel had plugged the address Kat gave him into the Mustang GT’s GPS. Not that he needed to. Her place was only a few minutes’ drive from the gym. However, it didn’t hurt to keep the address on hand since he wasn�
�t familiar with the area.
Her eyes bore a hole into the side of his head as he drove, even though she wore dark sunglasses. “What’s your background? What makes you capable of being my personal bodyguard?”
Steel bit back his grin. “Oh, I don’t fucking know... this and that.”
“Want to be more specific?”
“How about this... I can break a man’s neck with one twist. Is that fucking specific enough?” He gave her a quick sideways glance to see her eyes go wide, but only for a split second.
“And that’s your skill?”
He put his eyes back on the road. “If that alone isn’t good enough, I got other skills.” With my tongue, my dick, my fingers...
“Like boxing.”
That, too. “Yeah, sure.”
“Looks like you have dog tags hidden under your shirt.”
She was observant. He liked that. And it was a good skill for a fighter to have. “Yep.”
“Why do you hide them?”
“Because I’m not active duty. I’m retired.”
“Then why wear them at all?”
He hooked a right into the entrance of an upscale gated community that had a big fancy sign. “Because they’re a part of me.”
“How so?”
“Got a code or an entry card or something?”
She leaned over to dig into the gym bag at her feet and when she sat up, she handed him a proximity card.
Steel powered down the driver’s side window and held it in front of the card reader. The padded metal arm—which was a joke when it came to security—lifted. The Dirty Angels MC compound back in Shadow Valley had way better security than this, thank fuck.
He drove through and glanced at the GPS. He followed the map and took a road that went up an incline. As they drove, he also noticed the neighborhood was pretty fucking fancy just like the sign. Which meant the homeowners’ association could clearly afford better security.
“Third house on the right,” she murmured when he took a right at a stop sign.
Steel’s jaw flexed when he saw how big the house was. “You live here by yourself?”
She didn’t answer him as he pulled into a curved driveway constructed of pavers. The front yard was stone with cactus and other plants that looked like they belonged in the desert. Not a blade of grass to be found. Made for easy maintenance, he guessed.
She pulled a garage door opener from her bag and hit the button. One of the doors lifted on the three-car garage.
The house was contemporary Southwest style, the exterior made of tan stucco and brown stone. Wasn’t his taste, but whatever, since this was only temporary. And as long as it had a comfortable bed, electricity and running water, it was better than some of the tents he lived in out in the last desert he visited.
Fuck, he hated the desert. He hated sand unless it was on an island and he hated the goddamn heat.
He should’ve pushed this job off on Brick.
The spot he pulled into was the only empty one. Shutting the Ford down, he glanced to his left and saw two covered vehicles. Whatever was underneath the canvas covers looked expensive just by their shape.
How loaded was this chick?
Kat clicked the garage door opener again and the door automatically shut behind the vehicle as she climbed out, grabbing her bag.
He popped the trunk and unfolded himself from the vehicle, then saw her heading toward the interior house door. “Wait for me,” he warned.
Her step stuttered slightly, but she kept moving.
“Kat. Wait for me. That’s an order, not a suggestion.”
This time her pace didn’t stutter, it froze. He also didn’t miss her fingers tightening on her gym bag.
Her head turned until she was looking at him over her shoulder. Since her shower, her dark hair was no longer plastered to her head. It was now fluffed up in short layers.
He still wasn’t thrilled about super short hair on women, but, he had to admit, the cut fit her angular face perfectly. He wondered what that face looked like after a fight.
That was, if she even allowed contact from her opponent during a bout.
Fuck, he was getting a half-chub again.
“If you think I’m not going to move freely about this house, you’re wrong.”
Well, that half-chub was quickly moving into a full erection with her challenge.
Their gaze met and held. Oh, fuck yes, she was challenging him. Not only with her words, but her posture and the glare in her amber eyes.
Challenge accepted. “Let me clear something up for you. I’m not wrong, you are. When we get back here from wherever we have to go in the next few days or weeks, or however long the fuck I’m here, I’m going to sweep the fucking house first before you enter it. Once it’s clear, you can move freely about.”
“You’re an employee, don’t forget that.”
“No, Kat. I’m in charge during this job. It’s my fucking duty to keep you safe and I’m going to do what I’m getting paid for.”
“Do you always curse so much?”
“Fuck yes. Does cursing offend you?”
“Fuck no. Though, I’m sure you wouldn’t care if it did.”
Steel pinned his lips together to keep from grinning. “Now we got that cleared up, I’m going to grab my duffel and then sweep the house. Understood?”
She opened her mouth, only to shut it a second later. Even though she didn’t look happy about it one bit.
Not that he gave a shit. She could get annoyed as fuck for all he cared, as long as she listened to his instructions.
He took his time grabbing his bag, closing the trunk and heading in her direction. When he passed her, he made sure his shoulder grazed her lightly. He wasn’t surprised when she held her ground as he did so.
When he faced the door and she couldn’t see him, he finally let that grin spread across his face. “Code?”
She rattled off four numbers, which he tucked into his memory and punched them into the top-notch security system. It was a relief to see no expense was spared with the brand and monitoring company.
However, that relief was short-lived once he walked in and swept the house. He let out a long, low whistle as he traveled through the open concept split-level home. The windows at the back were enormous and French doors opened to the outside in every room that faced the rear. Including the expansive master bedroom upstairs.
He opened both doors off that room and stepped out onto the private balcony overlooking, not only the pool, but Lake Mead in the distance.
The place had to be worth a cool two to three million dollars. Way out of his league, even with the good money he made working for Diesel.
He stepped back inside, happy to be out of the late afternoon ball-baking heat and secured the doors behind him. He stopped in the middle of the room to stare at the king-sized bed. It was a complete mess. No attempt had been made to even straighten the bed. At home and even on the road, he’d always squared the corners of his rack out of habit. Seeing that jumbled mess set his teeth on edge.
However, he noticed it just wasn’t an unmade bed. By the way the bedding and sheets were tossed, whoever slept in it was restless.
Someone wasn’t sleeping well.
Maybe she was more bothered by the stalker than she let on to her manager.
Huh.
If she didn’t let someone she trusted know how worried she was by the fuckstick spying on her, that meant she’d do her damnedest to hide it from him, too.
“Aren’t you done yet?” he heard her yell from downstairs.
He closed his eyes, gritted his teeth, and shook his head before heading toward the bedroom door. “Did I tell you the house was clear yet?” he yelled back, annoyed she couldn’t follow simple fucking directions.
“It shouldn’t take you that long to clear a house.”
“This fucking house is probably four thousand square feet.”
“And?”
He jogged down the steps to the front landing and dow
n even more steps to the main floor.
He hated fucking split levels. But again, he wasn’t moving in. He was only here to do a job. He didn’t have to like the job, he just had to do it well.
He entered the kitchen where Kat leaned against the counter, her gym bag at her feet and her well-defined bare arms crossed defiantly over her chest. She wore another sports bra visible under a loose sleeveless tank that advertised the Mayweather Boxing Club in Vegas.
Steel jerked his chin up at her chest. “You train there?” Because if she did, he was going to be jealous as fuck.
“For a few months.”
“They kick you out because you don’t fucking listen?”
Her eyes narrowed on him.
He didn’t give a shit if she was getting pissed because he was already there, so he might as well have company. “I told you to remain in the garage until I cleared the house. You disobeyed a direct order. Doing so not only puts you in danger but me as well.”
“There was no danger.”
“You didn’t know that when you stepped through that door, did you?”
“I didn’t hear you crying for help,” she retorted.
“And if you did?”
“I would’ve come saved you.”
Steel snorted and planted his hands on his hips. “What experience do you have in a real fight? Not one coordinated by your manager in a controlled environment with a referee making sure your pretty face doesn’t get so fucking smashed in that you end up looking like a fucking bulldog?”
Her head snapped back.
“We’re talking a real fucking fight with a man who wants to fucking kill you. Not like today on that mat where the guy is letting you have the upper hand because that’s what he’s paid to do. He’s giving you false confidence. Teaching you to fight another woman in the ring with gloves, protective gear and mouthguards, not some mentally ill fucker who wants to hold you down and come on your face before he slices your fucking throat.”
Steel watched the color drain out of her face, but she didn’t break their locked gaze. Not even for a second.
“You don’t know anything about me,” she hissed.
Her panties were getting in a wad, but he continued anyway. “No? I know you live in a house that costs way too much scratch and is too big for one fucking girl.” Even without dropping his gaze, he saw her fingers curl into fists and every muscle in her body tighten. “And before you tell me you’re not a girl, you just proved you are by not fucking listening when I gave you a fucking order.”
Steel Page 3
