Simon Says (20 page)

He knew they wouldn't.

Tipping up Bonnie's chin, he said, “Shhh. You okay now?”

“Nooooo.”

No? Huh. He wasn't quite expecting that now that the excitement had ended. He didn't see any marks on her, and other than her hair falling loose, she looked okay.

“Yeah, well…” Feeling a bitch of a headache coming on, Barber rubbed the back of his neck. “So, what's hurt, exactly?”

She slugged him, stumbled away, then shot right back into his arms. Barber could feel her shaking all over, and accepted that attacks in darkened parking lots weren't exactly Bonnie's speed.

“It's okay now, sugar. Just take a few deep breaths.”

“Get me oudda here.” She hiccuped on a sob. “Please.”

Sounded like a hell of plan. “Sure thing.” Barber levered her away to see her pale face. “You need to visit a doc for anything?”

She shook her head and crowded back in close to press her face to his shoulder. Given the sound of her sniffling, Barber was afraid that she might be using his shoulder for a hanky.

Not an appealing thought.

Easing her away again, he got her in the car and in her seat with her seat belt latched. As he rounded the hood to the driver's door, he glanced at his shirt. Phew. Only damp from tears.

He seated himself, started the car, and pulled out of the lot. “Where to, baby?”

She gave him mushy directions while she continued to shake and lament the fates.

Barber glanced at her. Not exactly the charitable sort, he couldn't wait to unload her. Even for a one-night stand, he wasn't used to weak women.

Hell, he was used to Dakota.

In all the years that he'd known her, with everything she'd been through, he'd never once seen Dakota drunk or heard her wail. For certain she didn't sit around sniffling and looking pathetic.

Following Bonnie's directions, Barber drove about twenty minutes while she kept her nose pressed to the window as if unsure of their exact destination. Finally, in inebriated excitement, she said, “Tha's it! Right there. Pull in to tha' driveway.”

Barber parked in front of the darkened house, turned off the motor, and came around to open Bonnie's car door. “Once I've got you settled, I'll need to use your phone to call a cab.”

Given her earlier display of lust, he expected an argument, but she only clamped on to him to steady herself and nodded agreement.

When they reached the shadowy porch, Barber let her lean on him so he could hunt on her key ring for her door key. Before he could find it, she lurched away, fell against the door, and banged both of her fists repeatedly against it.

Drunks, Barber thought. They did the oddest things.

Now where the hell was the key?

A
noise startled Simon awake. He jerked upright.

Dakota sat up, too.
“What?”

The television sent flickering light around the room. They looked at each other, and Simon started to smile, but ended up wincing instead. “Oh, honey. Your poor face.”

Confused, Dakota blinked at him. “Why, you flatterer you.” She rubbed at one eye. “Did you really wake me up just to tell me how bad I look?”

“No.” He didn't smile. “But damn. The puffiness is worse and the color's deepened.” Simon grazed her cheek with his fingertips. “You're beautiful, but sort of in a pea green mixed with purple way now.”

She made a face. “Perfect. I guess I should be glad you didn't scream.”

He snorted. “I don't scream, Dakota.”

She grinned as she looked around the room, then glanced at his lap. “I must have fallen asleep after you did.”

Feeling like an ass, Simon ran a hand over his head. He remembered wanting her, but also enjoying her company, the closeness and familiarity. He'd listened to her breathing, felt the gentle thumping of her heartbeat…“Sorry about that. I guess I'm not used to the late nights right now.”

“I didn't mind.” Bobbing her eyebrows suggestively, she said, “It gave me a chance to check you out real close.”

“You don't say?”

Still with her gaze on his lap, she said, “The last thing I remember was thinking how different you looked after you fell asleep.”

“Different?”

“There.” She nodded at his lap. “But you don't really look different anymore.”

Knowing exactly what she meant, Simon grinned. “Morning wood. It's not you. Or rather, not you just yet. But give me a minute….”

Another loud banging sounded, making Dakota jump and Simon scowl. Someone was at his door making a terrible racket.

“Ah, well. Male anatomy 101 will have to wait.” Throwing back the covers, he said, “Stay here,” and left the bed.

At the sound of yet more banging, he bellowed, “Keep your pants on! I'm coming.” He couldn't imagine who'd be visiting him at…he glanced at a clock on the wall and cursed. It wasn't even close to morning yet.

He looked out the peephole—and stiffened in incredulity. “No fucking way.” After jerking the door open, he demanded, “What the hell is this?”

Barber leaned against the porch wall, his hands folded behind his back, his eyes closed. He looked disgusted, half-embarrassed, and resigned to the inevitable.

The second the door opened, Bonnie threw herself against Simon and started babbling. Fury and confusion warred together. Simon turned to Barber for an explanation. “I'm listening.”

Barber shrugged. “Sorry, bud.” He stepped in around Simon. “I thought she was taking me to her place, but apparently not.”

“You got her drunk?” Simon pried Bonnie loose and held her away from him.

“No, I didn't get her drunk. She got herself drunk while waiting for the band to finish.”

Simon's eyebrows climbed high. He didn't know Barber well, but given that he was Dakota's friend, he'd had certain expectations about his character. Now Simon wasn't so sure. He had no respect for men who took advantage of women. “And you were going home with her?”

“That's right.” His expression turned stony. “In case you failed to notice, she's wasted. I wasn't about to let her drive. But then we got jumped in the parking lot, and Ms. Had-Too-Much-to-Drink gave me directions here. I didn't know it was your place. But all the same, I'd like to call a cab.”

“Hell, no.” Simon dodged Bonnie as she tried to kiss him. “You're not leaving her here with me, so forget it.”

“What am I supposed to do with her?”

“Take her home.”

Bonnie said,
“Noooo…,”
and Simon found himself back in her embrace.

Barber shrugged. “You see my predicament. I can't exactly force her.”

It needed only this, Simon thought. “Start at the beginning. What do you mean that you got jumped?”

“Just that. I was unlocking her car when three guys showed up.” He rubbed his shoulder. “One was swinging a pipe.”

Holding Bonnie at bay, Simon tried to maneuver her toward Barber. She wasn't having it. Somehow she plastered herself to him and put her face in his neck. He felt her mouth sucking at his throat, felt her nails digging into his flesh.

In disgust, Simon turned toward the couch—and found Dakota standing there. She looked both stunned and annoyed. Though she'd pulled on her jeans, she also had a blanket wrapped around herself. Her long hair hid the bruising on her face.

Perfect, Simon thought. Just freaking perfect. “I thought you were going to stay in bed.”

Barber's head jerked up. At the sight of Dakota, his eyes widened and he looked genuinely shocked, then derisive. He tsked. “Well, well. Now I'm doubly sorry we intruded.”

“What's going on?”

Barber snorted. “I don't need to ask you the same thing, do I?”

Simon growled. The sound startled him as much as it did Bonnie, who levered away in surprise.

Barber just laughed—the annoying ass. “Well, Dakota darlin', for the most part, mine is a tale of drunken revelry.”

Stepping further into the room, Dakota said, “Funny. You don't sound drunk.” Clutching the blanket with one hand, she used the other to tuck her long hair behind her ears.

As she did so, Barber took a second look. His slouched posture was exchanged with rigid outrage. “What the hell happened to you?”

Almost as quickly, he turned on Simon with accusation.

“Don't.” With Bonnie squeezing the breath out of him, Simon said, “Not for a second.”

Barber continued to glare, but not long. “Right.” He headed toward Dakota. “You wouldn't be here with him if he'd done this.”

“Don't be an idiot. Simon wouldn't hurt me any more than you would.”

Simon watched as Barber gently held Dakota's face, examined each hurtful mark, then bent and kissed her brow.

And Dakota let him.

“Tell me what happened,” Barber whispered.

“You first,” Dakota insisted.

“No way, doll.”

Rolling her eyes, Dakota said, “I fell down some stairs, that's all.”

So she didn't plan to tell Barber her suspicions? For whatever reason, that made Simon feel better.

“Uh-huh.” Barber continued to hold her in a far too familiar way. “Try again.”

Seeking his help, Dakota looked at Simon in exasperation.

He peeled Bonnie's arms away and urged her into a chair. She fell back, sunk into the cushions, and looked ready to pass out.

“Now.” He faced Barber. “You said you were jumped?”

“Yep. Three guys.”

“Are you hurt?” Dakota asked.

“A little banged up.” He smoothed her hair. “But not nearly as much as you.”

Fed up with all the cooing, Simon put his arm around Dakota and hauled her in to his side—away from Barber. “You chased them off?”

“Wish I could tell it that way,” Barber said. He made a point of noting Simon's possessive hold, then moved to the chair where Bonnie sat. He put a hand on her shoulder, maybe to help keep her there, or maybe to reassure her. Simon wasn't sure. “I was holding my own, probably broke the jaw on one of them, but then the cops showed up and they hightailed it out of there.”

Dakota looked from Simon to Barber. “Did you recognize…that is, do you know who it was?”

“Sorry.” He absently patted Bonnie as she mumbled about something. “They wore ski masks.”

Simon looked down at Dakota. “I don't believe in coincidences.”

“Right.” She let out a breath. “Me, either.”

Barber eyed them both. “I already know that Dakota tangled with more than the stairs, so how about some details?”

Putting on a bright smile, Dakota said, “I do believe this is the perfect opening to coffee.”

Simon shook his head. “You would think so.” But he had to agree. “Let's all go into the kitchen. I'll make the coffee and we can compare stories. Maybe it'll help the police. Maybe not.”

Bonnie fought her way off the chair, stumbled, and fell into Barber. “Doesn't anyone care what happened to me?”

“Course we do, darlin'.” Holding her upright, Barber looked at Simon in accusation. “Jesus, man, you could have warned me.”

Before Simon could reply, Dakota said, “I
did
.” And then, to Simon's surprise, she joined Barber in helping Bonnie to the kitchen. “The coffee will help to sober her up.”

One strange predicament after another, Simon thought. Maybe life with Dakota would always be this way.

Life?
He shook his head at himself and trailed behind the others. “Dakota thinks coffee is the cure-all for everything.”

“That she does,” Barber agreed.

“I can promise you one thing.” Dakota looked over her shoulder at Simon and winked. “It can't hurt.”

In that moment, Simon knew he was in trouble. Even in such a ridiculous situation, Dakota impressed him with her poise, amazed him with her control, and made him proud of her for her kindness.

Mallet wanted her. Barber did, too. For all he knew, there was a man around every damn corner just waiting for a chance with her.

Yet she'd chosen him.

She was an incredible woman. Maybe too incredible to ever let go.

“Y
OU
didn't tell me he was a fighter.”

Marvin Dream glanced at his moronic friend sitting in the front seat, and his temper got the better of him. He punched him in the back of the head, and when that didn't take the edge off his anger, he did it again and again.

Unfortunately for Marvin, violence only spurred him toward more violence. He liked it. He fed off it.

Cowering, the other man cried out. “What'd I do? What? Stop it.” He ducked, trying to avoid Marvin's rage. Blood trickled from his already-injured ear.

But Marvin couldn't stop.

The driver swerved, cursed.

And Marvin realized that the cops might notice them if they drove crazy. That helped him regain his control, and he retreated to his seat in the back of the SUV.

“I'm bleedin' again,” the other man accused in a whine as he rubbed his sleeve over his ear. He snuffled and hunched his shoulders, and cast a wary eye into the backseat at Marvin.

Jesus, Marvin thought. He hated gutless sheep who couldn't take a hit. No one ever stood up to him. No one ever dared.

Except Dakota.

She'd not only stood up to him, she'd kicked him in the face, left him, divorced him….

His rage burned bright again, and he burst out, “Fucking idiot, I didn't know he was a fighter, now did I? He's a long-haired freak in a band. He plays a goddamned guitar.”

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean nothin' by it, Marv.”

“Shut up.” Marvin shoved himself into the corner of the vehicle, staring blindly out the window, stewing over his anger, and remembering.

He knew he'd grown obsessed over Dakota, but she was the most elusive woman he'd ever known. The longer he went without her, the more he wanted her. Over and over in his mind, he remembered his last night with her.

How she'd fought him.

How he'd taken her anyway.

His breath hitched in stirring excitement. He wanted to taste her again. He
needed
to feel her under him, struggling, cursing….

But she'd moved on to other men. Too many other men. Tonight, while he'd lurked in the shadows, anonymous and unnoticed, Dakota had joined the band onstage. As if she no longer feared anyone or anything, she'd strutted her stuff in one hell of a show.

He'd seen every little detail. The flex of her strong thigh muscles accentuated by the clinging dress. The bead of sweat that ran down her chest and between her tits. How her long hair danced around those too-proud shoulders.

She'd deliberately made him wild to have her back.

With a sound of disgust, the driver interrupted Marvin's thoughts, saying, “I should have gigged that fucking musician for busting my jaw.”

Marvin barely managed to keep the reins on his temper. “I don't want him dead, you asshole.” His hands tightened into fists and he continued to stare out the window. “The cops will blow off a mugging, especially outside a bar. But a murder's altogether different. They won't let that go without a lot of digging. And I don't need that kind of hassle right now.”

No, all he needed was Dakota back where she belonged. With him, tied to him, where he could control her. Thanks to Barnaby's cowardice, he'd found her again. He wouldn't let her get away this time.