What Belongs to Her (Harlequin Superromance) (9 page)

Sasha cursed the trembling in her body and the twist of self-hate in her stomach. He hadn’t dismissed her offer out of hand...but she wasn’t convinced his intentions were honorable, either.

She swallowed. An inexplicable sense of integrity rolled off the man in waves.

They traveled the rest of the descent from Clover Point in silence and, twenty minutes later, arrived on the main road, High Street, that ran through Templeton Cove. The midday sun was high in the sky and the locals were out in droves, meandering along the promenade and peering in shop windows running along Cowden Beach. Sasha drew in a shaky breath. God, she loved this town and she loved Funland. There had to be a way to get it back.

John cleared his throat. “How do we get to Marchenton?”

Now what? She turned. “Why?”

“There’s something I need to see there.”

“It’s out of town. Marchenton’s not exactly...nice.”

He smiled wryly. “I didn’t expect it to be. Kyle wants me to go see something there that used to be his.”

Sasha frowned. “Used to be?”

“It’s a house. He’s given me an address.” He glanced at her, his blue eyes dark and somber. “A crack house.”

“A...” Trepidation raised the hairs at her nape. “I’m not going to a crack house.”

“It’s not one anymore. Kyle’s adamant he was clearing things up before he was arrested.”

“I don’t understand. Kyle’s turned over a new leaf? Found God?” She sniffed. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

He smiled. “Exactly, but it’s one of the places on his list that he deems important I see.”

Sasha stared at him, disbelief bringing her shoulders up around her earlobes. “He has a list? Like a brochure on what’s hot, what’s not as far as Templeton’s concerned? What’s the tagline? Places to Befriend a Druggie? Sit Back and Borrow a Needle?”

He smiled as he pressed on the accelerator, racing toward the far end of town. “Something like that.”

“Does Kyle know I’m tagging along on your little discovery trip?”

His smile vanished. “No.”

“Then why take me? I’m pretty sure he’d have a hissy fit if he thought for one minute I was learning any more about him and his illegal activities.”

“That’s exactly why I’d like you to come. If he wants me to take care of things, I’ll take care of them my way. Not his.”

“So, I’m a pawn in some sort of Mafia game?”

He glanced at her. “None of this is a game. As much as Kyle likes to deem himself the town’s hard man, he’s not as far as I’m concerned.”

Sasha glared at him before snapping her head around to stare at the passing scenery. As they made each turn, she gave him another direction. Eventually, any remaining picturesque and colorful parts of Templeton diminished and they edged their way into the gloomy gray and beige of Marchenton.

Once a well-to-do residential area, the suburb had taken a steep decline over the past few decades and now played host to families struggling to get on the employment ladder or others who’d succumbed to alcohol and drug abuse.

She glanced at John as they drove deeper into the estate. “What was the address?”

He nodded toward the glove box. “Grab my wallet. It’s written on a piece of paper inside.”

Opening the compartment, she extracted his black leather wallet. One side showed credit cards and a piece of paper...the other a faded photograph of a young woman cradling a small boy of four or five in her arms. Sasha smiled. “Is this you?”

“Address, Sasha.”

Her smile dissolved, and she rolled her eyes before yanking out the scrap of paper. “Osworth Street, number twenty-one. Don’t even ask me where that is. Thankfully, I’ve never had reason to come to Marchenton before, let alone roam the streets.”

“What’s the post code?” He pulled the car to a stop at the curb and pushed a button on the dash. The radio screen flickered and changed to an inbuilt navigation system.

She wrinkled her nose. “Show off.”

He flashed her a smile. “Post code.”

“T-E-9-7-R-J.”

After he’d input the code, an automated voice of an American woman with the teasing lilt of a 1970s porn star told him to take the next left in a hundred yards. He checked the mirrors and pulled back onto the road. As they drove, Sasha tried and failed to ignore the way his undoubtedly strong and incredibly masculine hands looked holding the steering wheel. The cuffs of his jacket and shirt lifted as he maneuvered left and right, and she swiftly looked away. She had a thing about men’s hands and forearms. But she really, really didn’t want to develop a thing about John’s.

He pulled the car to a stop a second time. Sasha leaned over and peered out his side of the car. His breath tickled her ear, and she pretended not to notice how he stared at her rather than the house beside them. “So, this is what a crack house looks like. Nice.”

Silence.

She turned and her heart did a little stumble. His eyes were so close. They really were the most amazing shade of blue. More navy than azure—shinier and clearer than the damn Pacific. She blinked and pulled back. “Are we getting out?”

He ran his gaze over her face and hair before yanking on the door handle. He climbed out of the car, and Sasha concentrated on leveling her breathing. Once again, he came to her side of the car and once again he opened her door. Her stomach knotted. Stupid, girly behavior on her part. Stupid, eighteenth-century nonsense on his. Still, she couldn’t deny his gallantry was something she could get used to.

She alighted from the car, and his fingers touched the small of her back as they walked to the pavement. She pretended not to notice that, either. They stopped in front of the gate and stood side by side, staring at the house. His hand had yet to leave her spine and the spot where it lingered heated.

She swallowed. Hard. “Well, this is nice.”

The house’s gray-white walls were cracked and peeling; the garden was strewn with garbage and the customary supermarket trolley. Thick wooden boards covered the windows and a plank had been nailed horizontally across the door—hopefully to stop people from getting in rather than keeping anyone trapped inside forever.

Sasha tipped her head back to look at his profile. “Now what?”

He narrowed his eyes as his gaze wandered over the facade of the house, from its roof to the front stoop. “I don’t know. Kyle wanted me to see it like this. To show me that things are different now, but God knows what he thinks the boarding up of a onetime crack house proves to me.”

“I suppose the real question is whether he boarded it up or someone else did. Didn’t he tell you anything about it?”

“Nothing. I’ve been here less than a week and the man is getting to me more than I ever thought he would.” He faced her. “I can’t let that happen.”

Before Sasha had time to respond, he frowned and lifted his hand from her back, pointing at what looked to be a Realtor’s board in the corner of the front garden. “Looks like it’s for sale.”

He stepped closer to investigate. Sasha bit back a groan. She immediately missed the weight of his hand on her—missed the entirely misplaced feeling of security. What the hell was happening to her? John was the worst person she could possibly have this level of attraction toward. She grimaced. She might as well be fancying Kyle, for all the good it would do her. At least that thought dampened her yearning.

She walked to where he stood with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He studied the board in front of him. “Who’s Jay Garrett?”

She looked at the board. “This place is Jay Garrett’s now?”

“Do you know him?”

“Kind of, but I’ve no idea what he could possibly want with this dump.”

“Who is he?”

His eyes were dark with demand, and Sasha stepped back. “He’s our local entrepreneur and token millionaire. Owns a lot of the businesses in Templeton, including Marian’s.” She lifted an eyebrow. “Don’t you recognize the surname?”

He frowned. “Should I?”

“He’s married to none other than Detective Inspector Red Hair.”

“The cop?” His eyes widened in disbelief. “He’s married to the town’s cop and this place is his?”

She lifted her shoulders. “It certainly looks that way.”

He stared at the house. “What the hell would a millionaire want with a place once owned by Kyle that used to house addicts?”

Sasha brushed past him and leaned closer to the board. No details were given. Just that Garrett Holdings now owned it. “If you want to know that, maybe you should get yourself better acquainted with DI Garrett.” She faced him. “I’m sure she’d welcome a visit from you anytime.”

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s had more than a couple of run-ins with Kyle. She knows him. The inspector will be watching you, whether you intend to play things by the book or not.”

“And did these run-ins take place at the fair? Were they
about
the fair?”

Sasha glanced at the house. “Not as far as I know.”

“I find it hard to believe the cops have never taken an interest in what was going on there.”

“The old inspector was there a lot. Not so much DI Garrett, but she didn’t take over as the woman in charge until around the time Kyle was arrested.”

He gave a slow nod, comprehension registering. “And that’s when things started getting quieter as far as Kyle’s businesses were concerned.”

Sasha studied him. It was a statement rather than a question and from the way he scowled at the house, she sensed his brain cogs revolved at lightning speed. He abruptly turned. “Okay, I’ve seen enough. We’ll head back to the fair. I want to show you something.”

Her defenses immediately leaped to high alert. “What?”

“Kyle gave me minimal instructions when he asked me to come here.” His dark blue eyes shot from her face to the house behind her and back again. “And I wasn’t expecting you to be a part of any of it.” He exhaled. “In fact, I wasn’t expecting
you,
period.”

She tensed. “What does that mean?”

He stared deep into her eyes. “Despite what you might think, I’m not here to hurt you or mess up your life. I’m here out of curiosity and...anger.” A muscle leaped in his jaw. “I owe Kyle absolutely no favors and the fact he seems to think I do irritates the hell out of me.”

“I still don’t understand what that has to do with me.”

He closed his eyes. “I didn’t expect to like anyone who worked for Kyle.”

Her heart flipped, and she immediately resented that...and the smile at her lips. “You like me?”

“You’re okay.” He opened his eyes and smiled. “For a girl.”

She grinned. “Funny.”

“Let’s go.”

He headed for the car, leaving Sasha immobile as he opened the passenger door and waited. Inhaling, she approached and slid into the seat, her heart beating hard as he shut the door and walked around the hood. He got in and gunned the engine. Sasha’s body quivered with apprehension as she pulled on her seat belt with a shaking hand. She wanted to kiss him. Touch him.

She faced the windshield. She needed to enforce some distance or God only knew how this thing would explode between them. Whatever scenario she imagined, someone got hurt.

“I won’t be your ally against Kyle. I won’t be dragged into his world when I’ve managed to survive this long at the fair without becoming involved. I want the fair and I’m willing to fight for it, but I don’t deserve risking my reputation along the way.”

“I know that.”

“I’ve got my own issues and don’t need to get in the middle of any trouble you’ve got going on with Kyle. The one thing we both know about your dad is he’s dangerous. Really dangerous.” She faced him. “I stayed out of his way as best I could. In an ideal world, I’d like that to be an option with you, too.”

His eyes bored into hers for such a length of time, her cheeks warmed. Never before had she been so conscious of every part of her body, of the power pulling her toward this unfathomable man.

His gaze dropped to her mouth. “Right now, neither of us has that option. No matter how much we both might want it.”

He swiveled in his seat and snatched his sunglasses from the dash. Strange and unwanted regret wound tight inside her. They were on opposite sides of Kyle’s playing field...and she had a horrible suspicion they were acting just as he had planned all along.

CHAPTER NINE

W
HEN
THEY
RETURNED
to Funland, the rides were in full swing and the music blared. Sasha immediately knew the meeting of minds John had planned for that afternoon would be promptly abandoned. Freddy had worn the expression of a bulldog chewing a wasp—and was about to burst a blood vessel—so Sasha shook off the stain of the morning’s events and dove straight into work.

She hustled people to and from rides, sorted out a raving old woman shouting at the top of her lungs that a slot machine was “out to get her” and climbed under the boards of a flight simulator to check on an abnormal clanking noise.

The time now neared 9:00 p.m. Exhausted and ready to finish for the day, Sasha marched through the chaos of dating and screaming teenagers, parents trying to cajole younger kids toward the exit and the ride controllers trying their best to keep them there.

Despite the mania, Funland was where she belonged and always would. Her molestation was a moment in time that might take forever to fade, but if she won ownership of the fair, she’d be halfway back to gaining the life she wanted despite that. The thought that Matt Davidson’s actions could’ve ruined her life but didn’t went a long way to dispersing his power. She would never give up on that happening. Ever.

The sweet scent of cotton candy and toffee apples, and the bang and crash of blank pellets being shot and targets hit were all she’d ever need to keep her grounded and pushing forward. Her sense of safety had yet to return; her unending watching and protecting others yet to lessen...but it would, once Funland was hers to do with as she wanted.

She glanced around, looking for John. Every one of her plans moved like shifting sand beneath her feet and he was the catalyst who’d made it that way. She needed to get along with him until he accepted her offer. The more she thought about it, the more it made sense he’d want to leave Templeton as soon as possible. What was to keep him there but the empire of a man she sensed he despised? He’d sell her the fair eventually. It was just a matter of biding her time.

When Kyle had been in residence, she’d surrendered to the fact the fair wouldn’t be hers for a long time. When he was arrested, her had heart leaped for joy at the prospect of an accelerated opportunity. Back then, Freddy hadn’t shown an ounce of interest in taking over where Kyle left off. Of course, now Freddy wanted Funland, too—and neither of them had a clue what John wanted.

Sasha frowned. Least of all did the man in question know what he wanted, it seemed.

“You off for home then?”

She turned at Freddy’s curt inquiry behind her. “Sure. In a minute.”

He looked over her head toward the bumper cars. “Where did you go for most of the day?”

An air of wariness immediately skittered along Sasha’s nerves and joined the hefty dose of distrust emanating from Freddy. She turned to follow the direction of his gaze. John stood at the far end of the bumper cars, steadily watching them. Freddy had been in prison with Kyle. John’s words echoed in her mind. Who was to say he wasn’t equally as prone as Kyle to violence and debauchery? She swallowed and kept her gaze on John. “Nowhere important.”

“Humph.”

Sasha rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet.

“So that’s it. No further information?” Freddy snorted. “You’re going to keep this thing you’ve got going on with Mr. Boss Man over there to yourself?”

Sasha faced him. If Freddy thought he could intimidate her, he’d better think again. “Mr. Boss Man, as you call him, took me for a little tour around town. Not that it’s any of your business.”

“Like that now, is it?”

She glared. “You’re the one who made it clear we’re on opposite sides now John’s here. What did you expect me to do? Roll over and play nice? I think you know me better than that.”

Their eyes locked and colors from the revolving lights above slithered over Freddy’s face and bald pate, making him look like a moody nightclub bodyguard.

He glanced toward John, his jaw set. “So, what did he want in town? He speak to anyone?”

Sasha frowned. “Are we on the same team or not?”

“There aren’t any teams. Until we know what Kyle’s boy is doing here, we’re both on our own, don’t you think?”

Sasha shifted uncomfortably as indecision battled inside. She and Freddy had worked side by side for a long time—albeit him working a damn sight more closely with Kyle. She’d always liked Freddy. Thought him a decent enough guy, but now everything had been tainted with distrust and accusations. She didn’t really know Freddy any more than she’d known Kyle. Maybe she needed to give a little something to receive the same in return.

“As far as I can tell, it was a case of him getting a feel for the Cove. He doesn’t know anyone.” She shrugged. “He wanted me to introduce him to a few people.”

He frowned. “Like who? Who’d he want to meet?”

The sharpness of his demand rankled, and Sasha crossed her arms. “I took him to Marian’s. Are you going to cool down a little?”

“Why Marian’s?”

“Jeez, Freddy. What’s this about? You know as much, if not more, than me right now.”

“I don’t trust the guy.”

She glanced toward John. “Nor do I. But right now, we’re stuck with him and it might pay to ease off the aggression pedal for a while.”

He sneered. “Clearly you’re prepared to do whatever it takes, eh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You think I haven’t noticed the way your tongue hangs out every time you look at the guy?” He gave a dry laugh, his white teeth glinting in the semidarkness. “First time I’ve seen evidence you aren’t a lesbian.”

Heat assaulted her cheeks, and she raised her hands. “Okay, I’m out. If you’re going to be so bloody obnoxious about the situation, you’re on your own.” She moved to walk away when he gripped her arm.

“Hey.”

She glared. “What?”

“You can’t blame me for being like this. How the bloody hell did this happen without either of us knowing it was coming?”

“I don’t know, but turning on each other isn’t helping.” She snatched her arm from his grasp, her heart pumping. She glanced toward John. He laughed with one of the guys operating the cars, and the same sense of defending him she’d felt in the bakery rose again. “He seems an okay kind of a guy. Cold as ice occasionally, but not Kyle...if that makes sense.”

They lapsed into silence as they both studied the chatting, laughing enigma of John Jordon. Freddy cleared his throat. “So he didn’t specify who he wanted to meet? He just said people?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve spoken to Kyle.”

Sasha’s heart leaped into her throat but she concentrated on keeping an impassive expression. “When?”

“This afternoon. He reckons he’s out.”

“Out?” Sasha swallowed against the unease turning her mouth desert-dry as John threw them a final look before walking from the bumper cars and back toward the office. “Of the fair?”

Silence.

She snapped her gaze to Freddy, adrenaline pumping through her. “Freddy?”

He shook his head and glared at her. “That’s all it is with you, ain’t it? This bloody fair. Kyle’s concern has never been the fair. Don’t you get that? Now everything’s going tits up and I’ll end up with nothing.”

The venom in his voice set the hairs on the back of her neck singing their warning. She frowned. “If you’re talking about the other components of Kyle’s immoral enterprise, I don’t want to hear about it. That’s between you and him.”

“Ah, yes. Little Miss Goody Two Shoes.”

Irritation swept a hot flush onto Sasha’s face. “I am good, Freddy. Always have been, as you well know. There’s every possibility we’ll have a fight on our hands as far as John’s concerned, but I want the fair, nothing else. Everything else is up to you to sort out with him and Kyle, not me.”

She spun away, wanting to get away from Freddy and his spitting anger. His heavy footsteps came straight behind her, and she halted. “Leave me alone.”

He glared, his eyes manic. “Kyle didn’t just give me a job here. He took my money, my investment. I’m owed, Sasha.”

“Not from me.” She lifted her chin. “So take it up with his damn son.”

“You haven’t got a clue what you’re dealing with, have you?”

She frowned. “What I’m dealing with? Or who?”

“What, Sasha. You’ve no bloody clue.”

The infernal feeling of being out of the loop shivered over her skin, making goose bumps erupt. “I know plenty.”

She stormed toward the offices, her heart beating with a fear she’d never known around Freddy before. The one thing she couldn’t accuse Kyle of was intimidation or bullying—at least as far she was concerned. She wasn’t naive enough not to know Kyle’s reputation manifested the way it had because he’d inflicted a certain amount of terror and violence, but she’d never experienced this level of animosity from Freddy or Kyle before.

With tears burning like hot needles behind her eyes, Sasha pushed open the office door and made for the coatrack.

John emerged from the bathroom at the back of the room. “Sasha?”

“Not now. I’m going home.” She snatched her jacket and bag from the rack and strode toward the door.

“Sasha. Wait. Kyle gave me a file I want you to look at.”

She spun around and nearly knocked face-first into his stupidly broad chest. The man moved like a damn panther. He gripped her upper arms. The last thing she wanted to do was look at him. The last she wanted was for him to see her upset or unnerved. The last thing she wanted was to like him...want him.

She met his eyes. “I’m going home. Let go of me.”

He immediately released her and planted his hands on his hips instead. His eyes darkened with concern. “Are you okay?”

She glared. “Have you spoken to your dad this afternoon?”

He flinched. “What? Why?”

“Yes or no?”

“No.”

The tension between them grew. Only their harried breathing punctured the heavy silence. Questions stormed in his gaze as Sasha’s heart picked up speed. She couldn’t help staring at his lips.
Kiss me. God damn it. Kiss it all away.

“Sasha? What’s going on?”

She blinked. “Nothing.”

“Then why ask—”

“Why do I need to know about Kyle’s file? Why isn’t Freddy involved with this, too?”

The concern vanished from his eyes, leaving only steely determination in its wake. “I don’t want him involved.”

“So why involve me? Why have you singled me out to know about Kyle’s affairs? What is it you actually want?”

A muscle worked rhythmically in his jaw, but Sasha held his cold stare. She wouldn’t bend or walk away. He owed her an explanation and she’d damn well have it. Right now. She hitched her bag onto her shoulder and crossed her arms. “Well?”

“We’ll talk about this in the morning. Go home. Get some sleep.” He turned to walk away.

“No.”

He halted with his back to her. His shoulders were rigid. A hard plane beneath white cotton. Her gaze ran of its own accord over the muscular expanse of his back, down to his narrowed waist and perfect ass. She swallowed and dragged her eyes to the back of his short, dark, conservatively cut hair.

Slowly, he turned. “Kyle only told me what he wanted me to know. He only told me your grandfather hung on to this fair until the very end. He laughed about it. Told me loyalty like that was a waste of time and his granddaughter had been cursed with it, too.”

Sasha trembled with rage—or maybe grief for her grandfather. “He
laughed
at us?”

“Yes. I didn’t think about that one way or the other...until I saw you for the first time. Until I saw the genuine panic and sorrow in your eyes when you realized who I was. I don’t want you to hate me. I’m not the villain here. Kyle is.”

Struggling to keep a hold on her rising temper and not throttle John in Kyle’s absence, she glared. “Then give me the fair and walk away.”

Time stood still as their breathing fell into sync. Their whispered breaths filled the room, fueling the tension and stretching it like an invisible band around them. Her heart ached. Had she lost this fight before it had even begun?

He closed his eyes. “I have to deal with the estrangement between Kyle and me.” He shook his head. “Something happened a long time ago. He’s been out of my life for two decades. I need to know who he is. If you can’t understand that, then maybe it’s better you stop working here.”

She flinched. “What?”

He opened his eyes. “I need to do this. I need to deal with my stuff before I can think about yours.”

Her shock gave way to a rush of unwanted sympathy. His defensiveness had eased and now the pain in his eyes pleaded with her to understand his situation. Empathy lingered when Sasha thought of the wedge of resentment between her and her mother. She knew more than most the desire to understand a parent’s actions and motivations. Silence and hidden secrets were a cruel and affecting way to send children into the world. They ended up doing incredible and often stupid things as adults.

She sighed, her hands falling to her sides. “This isn’t right. Your issues with Kyle shouldn’t stop you from giving me back the fair. What can you possibly want with it? What good will keeping it do for Kyle or you?”

The softness in his gaze morphed into stubborn determination. “It’s important we work together to uncover the truth. Why didn’t Kyle, or even your grandfather, want your family to have the fair? We deserve to know exactly what Kyle was up to when he was here.”

She frowned. “Why do you even care? If you haven’t spoken for so long, why does it matter what he did or didn’t do?”

He wiped his hand over his face before tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. “It shouldn’t matter. I know that. It’s just...” He dropped his chin. “It does.”

Everything cleared in that moment. She got him. She understood him and why he was here...which meant the journey had just got a whole lot bumpier. They were both dealing with stuff. Baggage. Trying to move forward through the mire of the pasts they’d endured at someone else’s hand. She swallowed and dropped her shoulders. “This is all so unfair.”

“I know, but I’m just doing the best I can with the information I have. I didn’t come here to leave without answers or to do Kyle’s bidding. Soon enough, I’ll know what to do.”