One to Protect (One to Hold Book 3) (16 page)

“You’ll see.” He touches her hair lightly. “I recently lost someone…”

Tenderness is in his voice. I don’t believe it for one fucking second, but we all strain forward anyway, hanging on what he might say next.

“Want to tell me about it?”

Her hand slides across his torso, and for a moment, I think she’s going to embrace him—then I notice her black-lace thong peeking out from his pants pocket. He seems to remember as well, and it snaps him out of whatever moment he was just having.

Sloan catches her hand with a menacing smile. “I’ll hang onto these. You can have them back tomorrow night.”

“When we meet for something more?”

“We’ll meet at the bar. Or where are you staying?”

“I’m nearby. The umm… Bridgestreet.”

I can see him thinking. “We’d better start at the bar. Here, since you came first, you only get half.”

“That wasn’t the deal.” She slants her eyes like he just told a joke. “What will I do with you?”

He hands over a white envelope. “Just so we’re clear, I intend to fuck you tomorrow night. In interesting ways.”

“Crystal, and I’ll expect the full amount.” She rolls forward as if to kiss him, but he pushes up and past her, going back toward the restaurant.

“You’ll be full. Don’t worry.” With that he pushes through the door, leaving her alone.

Bastard.

She rolls back against the wall and looks down at her shoes. I can’t tell what thoughts are going through her head. Warring in my chest is a tangle of rage and frustration overwhelmed by a strong need for vengeance.

Star looks up at the window, and her face is serious. She gives us a discreet thumbs-up, then turns on her heel, heading out of the alley.

Back at the Four Seasons bar, nobody speaks as we wait for our drinks. Star passes the envelope containing Sloan’s money to Patrick, and he puts it in his jacket pocket like a pimp.

My scotch is the first to arrive, and I consider shooting it. Instead, I pick it up and walk to the square table in the back corner where we can talk privately. The other two join me once they’ve gotten their drinks.

We’re quiet until Patrick finally breaks the awkwardness. “Well, that went about as we expected.”

I don’t know how the fuck he does it, but with those few words, we’re all breathing again.

“He’s smooth.” Star sounds like she’s conducting an autopsy. “And attractive. I can see why the girls go for him.”

“You’re fucking kidding me.” I can’t believe she just said that.

Her eyes cut to mine. “He’s also rich and confident, and he knows his way around a clit.” She lifts the glass and takes a sip. “I wasn’t faking.”

“Well, that’s helpful for you, I guess.” Patrick follows suit, taking a hit from his drink.

She stares into her vodka. “I see why Tiffany would follow him here.”

Her words soften me—now she’s speaking language I can understand. For a while at first, I was preoccupied trying to find a reason for this guy’s continued success with women. Then I just wanted him gone.

I mutter into my drink. “He apparently has a deceptive opening act.”

Patrick keeps us moving forward. “You’re all set for tomorrow night. Good work. What’s your feeling? Are you ready?”

She shakes her head. “Hope so. He’s definitely got a side to him. I wasn’t going anywhere without finishing the job tonight. I don’t know what would’ve happened if I’d said No.”

“Okay, so that’s our plan. Tomorrow night you push back. See if he gets rough.” This was Patrick’s idea from the start, so I let him lead.

“Is it too soon?” As she speaks, her finger circles the rim of her glass.

“Impossible to know. But I was worried about you tonight. He’s one cold-hearted prick.”

She looks up and smiles at my partner. “With you, it was fun. With him, I confess. I’m scared.”

That does it. “If you want out, say it, and it’s over. I don’t like any of this.”

She looks up, and with her sitting here fucking looking so much like Melissa, I’m about to call it regardless of how she feels. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“What are you saying?” Patrick’s tone is calming. “We can call it off and walk away. Figure out another option.”

“Haven’t you tried that already? Isn’t that the reason you came to me?” Her glance catches my eyes, but I look down.

It’s true, but I don’t want to say it right now. I’ve tried legal methods, and Sloan’s slipped out of the noose every time.

“That answers my question,” she continues. “I’m doing this for Tiffany. I’m not calling it off. I shouldn’t have said I was scared. I’m not.”

“You were right to say it.” My partner reaches across the table and holds her hand. “Sangria. Okay? We’ll be right there.”

She nods and looks down again. I’m pissed. “You should be in college or trade school. Why the hell are you even in this line of work?”

And just like that, Toni Durango’s back. “Fuck you, Mr. Derek Alexander. What the fuck do you know about what I should be doing?”

I shake my head. “Screw it. I’m getting another scotch. Anybody else?”

Patrick nods, but Star’s still nursing hers. “Two drinks it is, then.”

I walk up to the backlit bar. It’s elegant with dark wood counter tops and recessed lighting. The liquor bottles are arranged in groups all the way to the ceiling by color. They’re backlit as well, and it’s an impressive mosaic. While I wait for our refills, I look at the two of them sitting, leaning forward over the table.

Whatever he says makes her laugh. She touches his arm, but he pulls away, I know, because of Elaine. Still, he has a connection with her that I don’t have—one I don’t care to have. I linger a bit after the drinks are placed in front of me before heading back. I’ll let Patrick mend that bridge a bit longer.

She’s right. We’re worlds apart, and I don’t have the right to come in and ask for her help then start passing judgment on her lifestyle. It just pisses me off. All of it. I fucking fought for this country. I’m supposed to uphold the law. Turning to the bar, I know I can’t go down that path—not if I’m going to do what needs to be done here.

When Star seems more settled, I walk back and retake my seat.

“Okay, we decided we’ll have to find a better place than an alley for tomorrow night’s rendezvous.” Patrick takes his drink and stabs the skinny straw in it a few times. “I’ll scout the area and see if I can find something close to the Oceanaire that we can get in and out of discreetly. Maybe this Bridgestreet will work.”

“Sounds like tomorrow’s assignment.”

Star stands and ducks her head in our directions. “I’m heading up if you don’t need me for anything else.”

“You’re off the clock.” Patrick’s still going for casual, business-as-usual, but I can’t do it.

“I’m sorry you had to do what you did tonight.”

She blinks a few times and nods. “I’m sorry I went off on you.”

“Water under the bridge.”

Once she’s gone, Patrick leans forward, and speaks low. “Now will you get off my case about fucking her at the office? She’s a fucking pro.”

“I will never get off your case about that, but you’re right. And it’s a damn shame.” I think about subcultures and the world of the street. How people get trapped in a life of alleyways and dark closets. Most of them stay there until they’re dead.

Then I remember my question from earlier. “What did you tell the kitchen staff we were doing in that closet?”

Sitting back in the chair he laughs. “I didn’t tell them anything. I just asked if my partner and I could use the room.”

Fucker
. “That’s what I thought.”

“Hey, you’re a hot piece of ass. I’d do you. If I went that way, I mean.”

“I hope I don’t have to kick your ass one of these days.”

“Get some sleep. We’ve got to work fast tomorrow.”

Down from the Oceanaire are two Bridgestreet hotels. Patrick and I choose the closest one to enter, posing as bankers in town planning a conference. While getting the tour of their facilities, we find a smallish meeting space with both an outside door
and
an adjacent tech room—complete with two-way mirror. It’s perfect. Bonus: It’s soundproof.

While the hotel’s conference director describes their state-of-the-art networking system, Patrick pockets the extra door card to the room. We’ll come back after hours and go over the best way to get in and out. We’ll also be sure that outside door is left ajar. Security will be another problem, but I’ll see if I can hack into their computer systems and get a feel for his rounds.

All of it has to be perfectly choreographed, but we’re ready by the time eight rolls around. Patrick slipped a hand-drawn map under Star’s door earlier in the day for her to take and go over alone. We’ll be in the tech booth waiting when they arrive.

Star calls my cell, which is unexpected, to let us know she’s heading out, and I feel the need to say it one more time. “If there were any other way…”

Her soft exhale passes over the line. “Stop. I agreed to help you for my
own
reasons. Reasons I’m sure you’re too noble to understand.”

“I’m not so noble. I understand revenge.” We’re quiet a moment. “Patrick has the lead here, but I don’t like putting you in this position.”

“Patrick understands me. I fucked him. I messed with his head. I’m not worth you feeling sorry for.”

Their history still ticks me off, but with this, I’m ready to forgive. “You’re a human being. You’re worth my concern, and you shouldn’t have to sell your body.”

“Don’t confuse sex with intimacy, Derek. My body is not my heart. I can separate what I choose to allow happen to me from who I am.”

The rationalizations of the hooker. I’ve heard them before. “If that’s what you want to believe, it’s not my business.”

“Look, let me use my choices for something good. It’s a small sacrifice. And by helping get justice, I can find some level of redemption.”

I do understand that, even if it turns my stomach. “We’ll be there if you get in trouble.”

“Sangria.”

Chapter 12: Toothless Monsters

Melissa

My feet are in Elaine’s lap and she’s massaging them while we watch
Pitch Perfect
for the thousandth time.

“I think I can do that cups trick.” Speaking of cups, Elaine’s on her third margarita, while I’ve almost finished the entire chips and salsa by myself.

“Don’t. You’re drunk and you’ll just make a mess.”

She swats my foot. “I am
not
drunk!” She struggles to get up, but I push down with my legs, pinning her in place. “Let me up!”

“Seriously, can we please just finish the movie? I told you tequila would make you wild.”

“All the little kids do it at my school.” She’s whining now. “I’ve been wanting to try.”

“I don’t have any solo cups.”

Pouty face. “Fine. But you can’t crush my dream. I’ll do the cups!”

I grab the remote to rewind the scene we’ve missed while she was talking, but the movement pinches my stomach. “Oh, shit. Why did you let me eat all those chips? I’ll have heartburn.”

“I’m not about to get between a pregnant lady and her snack foods.” She takes another wobbly sip of margarita. “Besides, you’re in that lucky ‘eating for two’ stage. Live it up!”

“That’s a myth. My doctor said I shouldn’t gain more than fifteen pounds with this pregnancy.”

She leans forward and scoops up some chip particles from the bottom of the bowl. “Have you seen your fiancé? He’s a giant. That baby needs food.”

“Not sure chips and salsa count as real food.”

She flops back, and we’re quiet again, watching. She takes another, longer drink, and my eyes cut to her face. She’s not smiling. She’s been down since she got here, and I know Lainey well enough to tell it’s more than just missing Patrick.

“You okay?” I ask as gently as possible.

A few moments go by, and she blurts it. “I did something really bad.”

My brow lines in confusion. I can’t guess what in the world she might have done, but I can tell it’s seriously bothering her. “Do you want to tell me about it?”

She sits up and puts her margarita on the coffee table, then flops her arms at her sides. “Just… don’t lecture me. I
know
it was wrong.”

Eyebrows raised, I nod and take her hand. The anticipation is almost too much.

She takes a deep breath and then lets it out. “I stopped taking my birth control pills last month.”

My head ducks forward. “What?”

Her grip tightens on my hand. “You heard me.”

“Does Patrick know?”

“No. And I
know
it was wrong. I was having a really hard month, and then Kenny called, and it made me so depressed. I just felt like… I’m going to lose him, Mel.” Her voice cracks, and her green eyes are so round when she looks at me. “I panicked.”

“Oh, Lainey!” I reach forward to hug her, but she pulls away, shaking her head.

“I know, it was manipulative and all that… and there’s more.”