All Things Pretty (13 page)

I’m betting on that sort of a plan. Just to
see if I’m right, if I’m getting to know her well enough to think
like she does, I wait until twelve thirty and I cross the street
and head around the block, to the alley between the first row of
buildings and the next. I lean against the brick corner, shielded
by a big dumpster, and I wait.

At ten minutes before one, I’m gratified
when I see Tommi’s bright head slip out into the alley and move
casually, like she has every reason in the world to be back here,
down several doors and disappear inside.

I imagine she told the people in the spa
that she had to run a couple of errands. Maybe she even left
something there so she has a reason to come back through and then
out the front door where I’ll be waiting. Damn, she’s sneaky.

I walk back to the street side and down to
the café she snuck into. It wouldn’t be out of the question for me
to have come back early and drop in for a coffee as I wait, so I
don’t bother trying to hide my appearance.

I glance casually around as I make my way to
the counter to order. As I pretend to study the menu, I take in
everything I can through my peripheral vision. There’s a hallway
that leads to the bathrooms and, I’m guessing, to the back exit.
There are a few small tables dotted along the wall, tables that
disappear down that way. My guess is that she’s sitting at one of
those.

When my coffee is up, I hit the condiment
station before I head back to the truck. Without actually looking,
I throw a napkin in the trash so I can get a peek at the hall. The
platinum head hunkering in the shadows is unmistakable, as is the
glow of a monitor on her face.

What the hell is she up to?
I think
for at least the fifth time.

For the next hour, I get to ponder this as I
wait for her to make her way back to the spa and out the front
door, which she does. I see her wave to someone inside, a big smile
on her face. She’s good. She’s very good.

She’s all smiles and glowing skin when she
passes by me to step up into the truck. “Thank you,” she says as I
close the door and round the front to the driver’s side.

“Enjoy your appointment?”

“Immensely!”

I just bet you did.

“Where to?” I hope she says anywhere other
than back to Tonin’s.

“To the school. It’s almost time to get
Travis.”

Her lips hold a little curve all the way to
the school. She seems downright happy, which makes me
even
more
anxious to find out what she’s doing on that computer.
Even Travis notices.

“What the hell’s wrong with you?” he asks in
his moody way.

“Nothing. Why?”

He eyes her skeptically, like he doesn’t
recognize her. “You’re never like this when you’ve spent the day
with that asshole. Actually, you’re never like this
at all
anymore.”

“What’s ‘like this’?” she asks with a half
laugh.

“Happy.”

Her light expression falls a little. “I
haven’t been with Lance today.”

Travis frowns at her, but then he glances at
me. I can almost see the conclusion he’s drawing before he nods his
head once and grunts. I wish it was the right one, but it’s not.
Her mood has nothing to do with me.

“I wish you could get away from him,” he
mutters. “If it weren’t for me…”

Tommi whirls around in her seat and puts her
hand on Travis’s knee. “Stop it! It has nothing to do with
you.”

As convincing as she tries to be, I can see
that Travis believes her about as much as I do, which is not at
all. But now I know that at least
part
of her reason for
being with Tonin has something to do with her brother. I just have
to figure out what that is. And what the other part entails.

Travis angles his body in his seat, drawing
his backpack closer and toying with the blue zipper along the top.
Obviously, he’s finished with his end of the conversation.

When I drop Tommi and Travis off, I back out
and park across the street. My phone bleeps a few minutes later
with a message from Barber, telling me there’s a change of plans,
to bring her back to Tonin’s at eight. I grit my teeth as I imagine
what’s in store for her tonight.

After I reply, I type in a secure code to my
phone and send a message to my contact at the precinct, requesting
a secure thumb drive that I might be able to sneak into Tommi’s
computer if I get a chance and for him to send everything he can
find on Tommi and her family in an encrypted file to the server so
that I can look at it when I get a chance to log on. Luckily, the
department has all sorts of precautions they can take to make sure
we are able to communicate without getting caught. Firewalls,
bouncing signals, encrypted files, secure networks, all sorts of
technical shit that I don’t understand but know how to use. My
brother liked to brag about all this covert shit after his first
undercover assignment ended, so I was familiar with it a long time
ago.

I press send then delete the text message.
No one would know what it was anyway, but it just makes sense to
get rid of it. Why take unnecessary chances? To anyone who might
find it, it looks like I sent a request for nude pictures from one
of those sites that send you porn for $2.99 a pop. No criminal
would find that suspicious at all, should he somehow finds a way to
hack my phone. Men like Tonin aren’t to be underestimated. No doubt
he has someone who’s great with computers and technology on staff.
He probably knows everything that goes on with his people, whether
they know it or not. I’m sure that’s why Tommi is smart enough
not to do
whatever it is she’s doing on her computer from
her house.

Later, I order another pizza and head over
to my house to grab a bite before I have to take Tommi back to
Tonin. It pisses me off that I can’t stop her. Or help her. I could
if she’d let me. Of course, then I’d lose my in with Tonin.
Dammit.

I’m in a shitty mood when I park in Tommi’s
driveway at seven thirty. I’m in an even shittier mood when I see
her come out her front door. Her hair pours down her back in a
golden wave and her lips match her wine-colored fingernails. She’s
wearing skin tight black leather pants, a slinky silver top that
drops off one shoulder and heels that make her even taller. She’s
dressed in clothes that
he
likes, getting ready to spend an
evening being
his
toy, and
I
have to take her.

I open the door for her, taking her hand to
help her into the truck. I don’t say anything and neither does she,
until I’m in the driver’s seat. Before I start the truck, I let out
an aggravated breath and say to her, “You look amazing.”

Her “thank you” is barely audible. Her mood
seems to mirror mine.

“I just wish I was taking you somewhere
else. Anywhere else.”

I think she says, “I do, too,” but I can’t
be sure. Her voice is too soft, too…somber.

Other than road noise, the only sound on the
way across town is the radio. In the parking garage, we sit in the
truck, in the quiet, after I cut the motor. I see her reach for the
door handle and I take a deep breath, ready to get out and walk her
up. But she pauses. After a few seconds, I hear her low voice
again.

“Even if it hurts?”

I glance over at her, at the lost, trapped
look on her face. God if I could just take her away from this!

But I can’t.

Not yet.

I try to grin, but I’m sure it’s a piss-poor
expression. “Especially if it hurts.”

On our way up in the elevator, I think to
myself that I never thought the sentiment that I’ve had for so long
would ever feel as bitter as it does right now.

It
hurts
Tommi, but it pisses me off.
And makes me sick. And makes me hurt
for her.

I watch the lighted floor numbers tick by in
the elevator, moving us ever closer to what neither of us wants.
It’s with utter helplessness that I roll to my side and pin Tommi
against the wall, smashing my mouth to hers, as if I can mark her
so deeply, so thoroughly that she won’t feel anything else for the
rest of the night.

“Nothing but me,” I tell her breathlessly,
my lips still less than an inch from hers. “Feel nothing but me. Do
you hear me?”

“I hear you,” comes her broken voice.

I back away just in time for the doors to
swing open. I watch Tommi step out, but I don’t follow. She stops
in the foyer, a couple of feet from me, unmoving until the elevator
doors close and take me back downstairs. And she’s left all alone.
All alone with a monster.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE- TOMMI

Another week goes by. I’m with Sig more now.
In some unspoken agreement, he drives me where I need to go. And
where I
have to
go, too. He never just drops me off at
Lance’s anymore. He walks me up, our eyes lingering as long as we
dare let them as we wait for the elevator doors to close. He never
stays in the penthouse, though. I wouldn’t want him to either. No
matter what happens, I want him separated from it. I want to be
able to look him in his beautiful chocolate eyes when I leave, not
hide from them in shame.

He’s almost always waiting for me in the
truck when I reach the garage. No matter the time of day or how
long it’s been since I left him, he’s there. Wordlessly, he helps
me into the passenger side, closes the door and walks back around
to get behind the wheel. Before we can even pull out in the street,
he reaches between us and takes my hand, holding it until he has to
let it go.

Every day it gets harder to leave him, to
watch him drive away or walk away, or watch the elevator doors
close between us. And today, it’s nearly unbearable.

My stomach turns as I take the first wobbly
step toward the living room where Lance undoubtedly waits. This has
never been easy. Harder than anyone in the world would ever
imagine, in fact. But today, it’s never been worse. Sig is making
everything worse. Better in many ways, which just makes the bad
parts…well, worse.

My legs don’t want to carry me any farther.
The thought of anyone else’s hands on me, anyone else’s mouth on me
is nearly unbearable. And it has to be because of Sig.
His
touch,
his
kiss. He has made what I
have to do
take
an emotional back seat to what he makes me feel, to what I
want
to do
. And that’s not good. I knew he would mean disaster for
me. I can’t afford to let anyone or anything get me off course. I’m
the only chance Travis has.

“You alright, Tommi?” Sammy, one of the
alternate guys who watches the penthouse elevator, asks.

A light bulb goes off. My mind quickly spins
a lie that will give me a brief reprieve, the perfect excuse to get
me out of here and to go back home where I can clear my head and
get my priorities back in order. “Actually, I’m not sure. I don’t
feel very well.”

He rushes forward and helps me into one of
the two exquisite Queen Ann chairs that frame the elevator. I drop
my head down between my knees allowing the blood that has drained
away from my brain to return.

I hear murmuring and then, less than a
minute later, I feel a hand on my back. “What’s the matter?” Lance
asks in his nasally voice.

I raise my head and meet his beady blue
eyes, wondering how I can go on like this–disgusted with the man I
need,
increasingly attracted to the man I need
to stay
away from
.

The answer is simple. I can’t. I can’t go on
like this if Sig is in the picture. It’s only going to get harder.
Therefore, I need to figure out how to get him
out
of the
way so I can do what I have to do.

“I’m not feeling very well.”

Lance takes a step back, hurriedly, like I
just told him I have Ebola. “You don’t look very good.”

I laugh humorlessly. “Thanks a lot.”

“You know what I mean.”

I nod, grateful for the visceral reaction
that caused me to pale and become nauseous. It inadvertently added
authenticity to my claim.

“Maybe I should just go back home for the
day.” I know my suggestion will be met with enthusiastic agreement.
Lance only wants the beautiful, trophy toy, not someone he has to
care about or care for.

“That’s probably best.”

“Maybe I’ll be feeling better for the party
tonight…”

“Don’t push it. I can close a deal without
your charming presence, I think. Just this once.”

“I’m not saying you can’t. I just don’t want
to let you down. I know how important business is to you.”

“Not more important than you.”

Lie.
I am part of his business. Part
of the face of it.

I wipe my damp forehead with the back of my
hand and stand, clutching my stomach for effect. “Okay. Well, if
I’m not feeling better by morning, I’ll call. Otherwise, I’ll be
over around ten tomorrow.”

He pats my upper arms, like an old woman
might, and he gives me a tight smile. “If you need anything, let
Sig know. I’ll have him stay close.”

“No!” I rush to say, then add more calmly,
“that’s not necessary. I’ll be fine without anybody on hand. But
I’ll be sure to call him if I need anything. I can wait until he
arrives.”

“Regardless, he won’t be far. For
my
peace of mind.” Lance’s tone brooks no argument.

I keep my lips clamped shut. The more I
resist, the more attention it will draw. “You’re so good to
me.”

Vomit.

“Feel better.”

With that, he practically shoves me back
onto the elevator and I’m free. At least for a few hours.

I rush downstairs, keeping an eye out for
Sig as I make my way to my car. There is no evidence of him in
sight and I made sure to steer clear of his truck was parked. I
don’t know what he does for all the hours I’m with Lance, but it
appears that he’s gone for the moment.