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Fury by Cat Porter (50)


54


Why are you here?”

Lenore stood stock still in the center of her lingerie boutique as I entered the small, colorfully decorated shop. An exotic harem, a seductive woman’s lair in a once upon a time cowboy and gold rush town.

I knew her question, in that deep, firm voice, so in control, wasn’t meant to insult. She knew something was up.

“There’s something you need to know, and I wanted you to hear it from me.”

“What happened?” she asked.

“Reich showed up at Butler’s yesterday. Tania was there, and he took her when she left his place.”

Her eyebrows lifted. “Took her?”

“Held her hostage to piss Butler off and—”

“No.” She put a hand to her mouth.

“Butler and Catch got her out. She’s at the Jacks’. I saw Grace there earlier this morning, I thought maybe she would’ve called you.”

“She did but I had my phone off. I just saw that she’d called as you walked in.” She swallowed hard, her breaths coming faster. “What did he do to her?”

“It’s what Scrib did to her.”

Her brow knit, face went pale. “Scrib? What’s Scrib got to do with anything?”

“Seems he and Reich are pals. Scrib wants to do business in our parts, and Reich brought him in.”

Her eyes hung on mine. “What did he do to her?”

“Cut an F into her chest.”

She stumbled back. I grabbed her, setting her down on the bright yellow couch. “Hey, hey. Look at me. Look at me, Lenore.” I slid my arm around her pulling her close, her head falling on my chest.

“No, no, no. It can’t be. Can’t be...” she murmured against my skin.

I smoothed a hand down the side of her cool face. “They’re eager and desperate.”

“That’s a lethal combination,” she breathed.

“I’m not letting this stand. My boys got Reich tied up at my club. I’m heading over there now, but I had to see you first. I had to.” I took her cold hand in mine and she didn’t pull it away. I brought it to my lips and kissed it. “I had to.”

She pressed deeper against me, curling into me, and my muscles tensed, my heart knocked in my chest.

This, once more. This.

“And Scrib?” Her lips moved against the base of my throat, the skin burning there.

“I’m going to take care of Scrib.” My fingers sifted through her hair. So soft, the scent of flowers rising. Not sweet, but edged in green. Clean, fresh air bottled in a forest after the rain. I buried my face in the purply blue and black waves. “I’m going to keep him away from you. I won’t let him get to you.”

Her nails dug into my flesh. “So many years have gone by, but...oh shit. I still see his face sometimes. Hear that voice of his. Feel that—”

“I hear his laugh.”

“That fucking laugh.”

I kissed the top of her head, holding her tighter. “They’re not getting away with this.”

She looked up at me, our choppy breaths mingling, her eyes dark teal pools of swollen emotion.

My thumb grazed her quivering bottom lip. “Serena—”

“We gave up so much to stay safe from them, keep those around us safe, and yet even after all this time, it’s as if everything we went through doesn’t even matter.”

I raised her chin with my hand. “Baby, I’m putting an end to this shit. And they’re gonna pay.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll keep you safe.”

Her eyes glimmered, and she pushed off me, sitting up, sniffing in air. “Thank you for telling me. I mean it, Finger. Thank you.”

The sudden lack of the press of her body, her warmth against me, was wrong. I was thirsty, withered, bone dry, and the gallon jug of cool water had been taken away from me too soon.

Lenore slid her hand from mine, and I released her. She swallowed hard, her face still pale. “I need to see Tania.” Rising from the sofa, she moved toward the back of the store, through stands and racks draped with sexy lingerie.

I let out an exhale. Colorful bras, panties, scraps of fabric, erotic bands of ribbon mysteriously held together, begging to be stroked, begging to be filled with warm bodies. Her touch was on all of them. Her carefully planned out thoughts, her offbeat wishes. These were all personal items that people stashed in drawers or closets, keeping them hidden only to be revealed on special occasions and to a chosen few. Here in her store, Lenore had brought these fantasies out into the light to play and dazzle. It was another world, dreamy, sensual, seductive.

I brushed a hand across my mouth, where I wanted her lips to be right now. “Yeah, you should go see her. I just brought her to her house.”

“Okay.” She slung a huge black leather handbag studded with metal grommets over her shoulder, grabbing a set of keys by the register.

I stood up, taking her in. Her taking me in.

What radiated between us was an insistent bass that drilled deep. Adamant. Jarring even, like an emergency alert system that wasn’t in your power to turn off. You had to listen to it, endure it. Pay heed to its warning.

I was paying heed.

I said, “I’m coming over tonight.”

Her eyes flared. “You’re what?”

“Tonight. Expect me.”


That night after visiting Reich in his prison cell and making sure everything and everyone was locked down at my club, I got myself to Lenore’s house around eleven o’clock. This time, I rang her bell.

She opened the door, her hair pinned up, no trace of makeup. Her cheeks reddened at the sight of me. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.”

“Look, I’m okay, really. I was shaken up earlier, but you don’t have to—”

“You going to let me in?”

She took in a breath and moved to the side, pushing her door open wider. I entered her house.

“Did I wake you up?” I asked, parking my helmet on a chair, taking off my jacket.

“No. I was working.”

Sketches of small rectangular and round cases with her brand logo were all over the table.

“What’s this?”

“I’m working on this makeup line idea. I’m picky about the packaging, I want to get it just right.”

I sat on the edge of her sofa. “You saw Tania?”

“I did.”

“Must have been real hard for you.”

“Anything can happen at any time and usually does.” She collected her sketchpad and colored pencils, piling them in a stack on the coffee table.

Suddenly, I didn’t want to talk about any of that. I wanted to just be here, be with her. I handed her a charcoal pencil that had rolled away from her reach. “Your store’s real nice. I like it.”

She let out a laugh, taking the pencil from me. “Men usually do.”

“I’ll bet.” I leaned back on the couch, stretching my legs. “I know a few of my men do. Their old ladies come up and shop once in a while. I heard you’re a little pricey, though.”

“It’s all in the details—the materials, the workmanship.”

I held her steady gaze, my pulse racing. We were talking about bras and panties and stringy things.

“I’m worth it,” she added. “I mean, the pieces—they’re unique.”

“Yeah.” You are. You’re worth everything.

“Can I get you something to drink? Or eat?”

I untied the bandana from my neck. “Water would be good. Thanks.”

Lenore left the room, and I finally let go of that pent up breath I’d been holding since I’d walked through the door. I toed off my boots and took in her living room. Full of color, pulsing with peacock blues, minty greens, soft pinks, pale golds. A variety of thick pillows on the floor and the long L-shaped sectional sofa, Persian-type rugs, long sweeping curtains. A vintage glass carafe in a burnt orange color sat on the coffee table before me, it’s neck wrapped with a gold necklace with tiny red beads. Her furniture was a variety of natural woods and burnished metals. Her home was warm, comfortable, quirky. Refreshing. I’d never experienced anything like it.

I rubbed the back of my aching neck. Was this how she’d always lived? I’d never been able to go to any of her apartments in Chicago, and suddenly that bothered me. I’d never considered that before, that I was missing out. But I had missed out on a vital piece of her back then, a unique and intricate flavor of her.

She returned with a tall glass of water and a big bed pillow, a paisley quilt, and a folded sheet under her other arm. Handing me the water, she placed the bedding on the sofa.

“You look tired,” she said as I drank. “My spare room is kind of a mess right now with boxes from the store and samples, but the sofa is comfortable.”

I grinned, setting the now empty glass on the low table before me. “That’s fine. Got an early start tomorrow. Don’t want to disturb you in the morning.”

“The bathroom’s down the hall to the right. I left you a couple of towels in there.”

“I could use a shower.”

“Go ahead. I’ll set up your bed.”

I stood and brushed the side of her face with a kiss, my hands on her upper arms. “I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. I needed to be here, make sure you’re okay, that you’re safe with everything going on, with Scrib out there.”

“I know. I appreciate it.” She moved to the other end of the sofa, busying herself with the bedding.

I didn’t want appreciation. I wanted something else, something more, something I could hold and squeeze and grip and…

She smoothed the sage green sheet over the cushions, propped up the king sized royal blue pillow, unfolded the quilt.

The spring of tension that had coiled around the muscles of my chest and shoulders from the moment I’d walked into her house released. This was good, I’d take it. This was a beginning.

“You need anything, you just say the word.” I removed my gun from its holster and set it on the low table by the carafe.

Her eyes darted to my gun. “Okay.”

She was being all cool and collected now, but who knew what state her brain and emotions were in after seeing Tania today, knowing what she’d gone through, seeing the horrible evidence on her skin. Like the scars on her own skin and on mine.

The nightmares might come back tonight. Maybe they’d never left, or maybe she wouldn’t be able to sleep. She didn’t want to talk about it now, and frankly I didn’t either. I was fried after all of the day’s crazy, the back and forth, the riding.

“Hey.” She touched my arm, her fingers warm on my skin. “You know, if you need me, I’m here for you, too.”

My heart jolted.

She squeezed my bicep, sweeping past me down the hall.

And she took my heart straight out of my chest along with her.