CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sarah was so desperate for the gossip on Blake that she refused to wait until we took our break. She harassed me for information until finally, as I was mopping up a spillage on the hardwood floor, I quickly brought her up to date. I told her about my meal with Blake, how I’d stayed at his place last night, and that I’d decided to give a relationship with him a try. She was ecstatic to say the least.
As the pace was real slow and the only person near us was Henry—who was having his daily nap in the corner booth and snoring like a barnyard animal—I also told her that Linton had been loitering outside the Vault last night and could possibly have called me, her mouth went slack. “Noooooooooooooo.” I refrained from adding that I’d been lured into the garage and had witnessed quite a scene—Blake’s business was his to share or not to share.
“We thought it was Ricky who’s been playing games with me, but it could have been Linton all this time.”
Her nostrils flared. “That shit-eating prick.”
I smiled despite myself. “You think he eats shit?”
“I will make him eat shit.”
“You’ll have to get in line if you want a shot at him.”
“I’ll bet Blake’s at the front of that line.” Her brow furrowed. “Why are you scowling?”
“He said something that pissed me off.”
“Is this a new thing?”
“No, but … he considers Cade a suspect.”
Sarah’s head jerked back. “That’s ridiculous. Cade would never—”
“I know he wouldn’t. I’m just telling you what Blake said. Honestly, I think it’s just a little petty jealousy on his part, though. He wants Cade to be a bad guy.”
She shook her head vigorously. “My brother wouldn’t harm you by word or deed. Ever. He adores you.”
“And I adore him. We’ve been friends a long time.”
“Yeah, but he …” She clamped her lips together and averted her gaze.
“What?”
“Nothing. It’s definitely not Cade. But if your caller disguised his voice, it could be that he thought you’d recognize it. That means that if it’s not Ricky or Linton, it could be someone else you know. Like Joshua Buchanan. That small-pricked asshole would relish messing with you.”
“You think he has a small prick?”
“He’ll have a small prick once I chop most of it off. I’ll leave him a stump so he can still pee.”
I smiled and put my hand over my heart. “I love you, Sarah.”
“Who wouldn’t?”
“Oh, and I met his stepsister and the redhead.”
Sarah’s eyes bulged. “Spill!”
“I saw Emma this morning at his apartment. She’s nice. She’s a PI, and she’s going to do some research on Ricky and Linton.”
“Well that’s good.”
“She definitely doesn’t have any designs on Blake, unlike Laurel. As for the redhead, Tara, I’m not so sure. I met her at the club last night. I don’t like the way she looks at Blake. Or that she apparently tries luring women away from him as part of some imaginary competition.”
Sarah pulled a face. “Ew. That’s just weird.”
“I’m not convinced she’s gay. I think she’s bi.”
“And, what, lures away Blake’s women out of jealousy?”
“Maybe. This could just be me being bitchy because I don’t like that she knows his secrets when I don’t.” I would have loved to be able to mention ‘Montgomery’ to Sarah, just in case she recognized the name. But this was something close and personal to Blake. I wouldn’t repeat any of it to anyone else.
“You two done gossiping?” Sherry called out.
Sarah snorted. “Like that will ever happen.”
Sherry just huffed. “Get to work.”
As usual, I made coffees, jotted down orders, wiped tables, and collected dirty glasses. Whereas I’d ordinarily disappear into my own imagination when there was a lull in the flow of patrons, I couldn’t today. I had too much on my mind, and too little to occupy it. The more time went on, the more I started to feel like a bumble bee trapped in a jar.
As I rattled off an order for three beers to Reed, he said, “I’ll take these drinks over.”
I tilted my head. “Why?”
“Those guys are on the rowdy side, and they can get pretty damn handsy. It’s bad enough that they were flirting with you like crazy. I’ll bet Blake won’t like hearing that guys were making moves on his woman.”
“I’m a waitress at a bar, Reed. Dealing with flirts is part of the deal. Anyway, it’s not like they touched me or anything. They’re just a little enthusiastic.”
Reed shook his head. “I’m taking the drinks over, deal with it. You know, I gotta say, I wouldn’t have thought you’d be interested in a guy like Blake Mercier. He’s not your usual type. Not fun and outgoing. He’s more …”
I didn’t hear what Reed said next, because I caught sight of a cobweb on the neon ‘BEER’ sign above the bar. My muscles bunched. Dammit, how did I miss that? It needed to go. And fast. If I could—
“You okay?”
I blinked at Reed. “Fine. Just need to get rid of that cobweb.” Did it annoy me that my mind seemed to obsess over shit like this when I was stressed? Yes, but there was no ignoring it.
Letting him serve the beers, I dusted the neon ‘BEER’ sign. Then I went on to brush and vacuum the pool table felt. After that, I cleaned the jukebox with antibacterial spray, scrubbed the restrooms with bleach, and then sponged down all the windows before getting rid of the excess water with a squeegee.
As I was returning the cleaning supplies to the closet, Sherry sidled up to me with a huff. “What’s wrong, Kensey? Don’t tell me nothing. You’ve been like Martha Stewart on crack all afternoon. The men’s restrooms are so pristine, you could eat in there—probably even off the floor itself.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it.” The very idea, even in jest, made me shudder.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?”
Even if I’d wanted to blow her off, I couldn’t. It was pretty obvious that I was stressed. “Yes, I’ll tell you.” I needed to update Clear, Sherry, Dodger, and Cade on the Linton situation anyway. “Family meeting at my Mom’s place?”
“I’ll be there. Call her and arrange it.”
Going into the breakroom, I called Clear. She was more than happy to have us all over for dinner later, not sounding the slightest bit uneasy that I was calling a meeting. Apparently, she was still convinced of what she’d said in the library that day. Probably even thought I was going to announce that the problem was officially gone.
Just as I was about to return the phone to my locker, it began to ring. Seeing that it was Blake, I smiled and answered, “Hey.”
“Hey, baby,” he said in that rumbly, velvety voice. “I’ve shuffled some things around, but I still won’t finish up today until around seven-thirty.”
Leaning against the wall, I said, “That’s fine. I’m going to my mother’s house for dinner at six-thirty. Sherry, Dodger, and Cade will meet me there so I can give them an update.”
There was a long pause, and I wondered if he was unhappy to hear that Cade would be there. “All right,” Blake finally said, sounding a little stiff. “What time do you think you’ll be done?”
“Probably around eight. It’ll take a while to make my mother settle once she hears what’s been going on.”
“Okay, drive straight to my place afterwards.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask how his lunch with Tara and Bastien went, but I held back. “See you then.”
“See you then, baby.”
The rest of my shift went by pretty fast, and soon enough I was slipping on my jacket and retrieving my purse from the locker. Walking out of the bar, I spotted Rossi’s car in the lot. No Silver Sedan anywhere, though. The only person hanging around was Cade, who called my name when he saw me. I stopped, but his footsteps were hesitant as he approached, glancing around us nervously.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
He gave me a too-quick smile. “I’m good.” He folded his arms across his chest. “You sure about Blake? It’s your business, I know. But I’ve heard things, Kensey.”
“What sort of things?”
He glanced around us again. “Not things I’d feel comfortable sharing in case I had to deal with the kind of blowback that puts a guy in hospital. He has a lot of shady connections. And I know that some of the men who work for him are ex-cons.”
I wondered if Rossi was one of those men. “If they’ve paid their debt to society—”
Cade snickered. “No one really pays the debt they owe to society anymore. The system doesn’t work, but that’s off topic. Look, if I believed that Blake would harm you, I’d share everything I heard. But I don’t think he would. He can protect you. He has the means and power to do it, which is why part of me is glad that you have him around you right now. But if what I’ve heard is true … Maybe you’d be able to overlook it—I don’t know. I mean, you’re no spun glass princess. You learned early that the world isn’t an innocent place. But I think it might hit you hard, even if just for a few moments.” He put a hand on my upper arm. “Just be prepared, okay?”
I nodded. “Okay.”
His smile was strained. “See you at your mom’s place.”
With my imagination going stir crazy, I crossed to my car. I gave Rossi a quick wave before climbing inside. I’d wanted to press Cade to share more, but pressing him on anything was fruitless. He wasn’t warning me away from Blake, so what he’d heard couldn’t be that bad, right? Cade just wanted me to be “prepared.”
But for what?
I knew the moment I stepped into my mother’s kitchen and smelled garlic, onions, and tomatoes that she’d made spaghetti bolognaise. One of my favorite meals. I almost fell to my knees in gratitude.
Instead, I put a hand to my rumbling stomach. “Damn, I’m starving.”
Clear smiled. “You won’t be for much longer.”
“Need me to set the table or anything?”
“It’s already done, sweetie, but thanks. What do you want to drink?”
“Any Coke?”
“Check the fridge.”
After I poured myself a glass, I sat at the kitchen island as she pottered around. To look at the airy kitchen, no one would think she’d just cooked a meal. There were no crumbs or spills on the granite counter; no dirty pans or cooking implements in the aluminum sink. She was already way ahead on the cleaning.
I didn’t bother offering my help. Clear had her own way of doing things, and she didn’t like anyone interfering.
“Before everyone gets here, why don’t you tell me about Blake Mercier.” She took a moment to check on one of the herb pots near the sink. I’d actually made the pot itself in elementary school, so it wasn’t the best quality, but Clear loved it. “You said you weren’t dating him, but the things I recently heard tell a different story.”
“When you last asked about him, I wasn’t dating him.” Instead of telling her about the ‘arrangement,’ I added, “I originally didn’t intend to have anything at all to do with him. He just wouldn’t let it go.”
Clear’s face went all dreamy. “He pursued you.”
“Not in a romantic way. He was pushy and annoying.”
Her lips thinned. “He just wanted sex.”
“Well, yeah.”
“But that’s changed?”
Folding my arms on the table, I rested my chin on them. “Yes.”
“How much do you like him?”
I thumbed a bead of condensation from my glass. “A lot.”
She stared at me, her lips pursed. “I’d like to meet him.”
“That’s good. He wants to meet you.”
“He does? Interesting.”
“Hmm.”
“Invite him to come for dinner on Sunday.”
Lifting my head, I sighed. “All right, but just don’t ask him what his damn intentions are or something weird like that. This is early stages. We’re feeling our way. I don’t need you scaring him by talking marriage or kids.”
She snickered. “If I scare him off, it just shows he’s not good enough for you.”
“Mom.”
“Fine, fine.”
“And please don’t talk about Michael.”
Now she looked hurt. “Why not?”
“Blake knows about him, but that doesn’t mean I want you shoving it under his nose, talking like we’re one big, happy family.” It would just be weird and uncomfortable.
She dropped her gaze. “I know you think I shouldn’t have married Michael. I know you feel that it was selfish and cruel to you, but if you’d seen the way he was with you when I first took you to see him … He fell head over heels in love with you right there. Made you smile and giggle and blow raspberries at him. It felt right. Felt like we were all exactly where we were supposed to be in that moment.”
“He killed thirty-two women so, yeah, he was exactly where he was supposed to be. Prison. He’ll always deserve to be there. The relationship you have with him …” It was a mockery of what a relationship should be, but I didn’t say that. It would fall on deaf ears. “If he’s what makes you happy, fine. Because I love you, I accept that, even though I don’t like it. But expecting other people to understand and accept it is unfair, Mom. So I’m asking you not to mention Michael to Blake and let him get used to the situation on his own.”
Her mouth flattened. “All right. But if he asks—” She quieted on hearing a knock at the door. “You let them in, I’ll plate this up. After we’ve eaten, the floor is yours.”
I was glad she hadn’t insisted on hearing me out before we ate. She didn’t seem the least bit uneasy, so I had to conclude that she was clinging to the idea that Ricky was gone. I decided to to let her enjoy that illusion of safety just a little longer.
Sherry, however, hadn’t looked happy that she’d need to wait. Then again, she’d had to watch me stress-clean the bar for hours on end, so it was no wonder that she wanted the mystery revealed.
After the meal was over, we all settled in the living area with coffees. And then I told them exactly what I’d told Sarah, minus the juicy details about me and Blake, of course.
Dodger folded his arms across his chest. “So, what you’re saying is that we can’t really be sure who’s been messing with you all this time?”
“Unfortunately, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t get me wrong, I’m still leaning toward Ricky. Just because Linton was hanging around Blake’s club doesn’t mean he was the one who called me.”
“But it is suspicious that he’d go there,” said Sherry.
I nodded. “I left a message on Linton’s answering machine, saying I’d changed my mind and I wanted to talk to him.”
“What?” exploded Dodger. “Kensey, the guy could be stalking you, and you want to talk to him?”
“I’m not being stalked.” Ignoring Sarah’s snort, I continued, “And, no, I don’t want to talk to him. But I need to bring him out into the open so that Blake can speak with him, which is why I suggested to Linton that he and I can meet in a public place. I won’t mention that Blake will make an appearance, of course.”
Sherry gave a nod of approval. “If anyone can scare him off, it’s Blake. If Linton’s answers don’t satisfy Blake, the fucker will get his ass kicked—I’m all for that plan.”
Cade tilted his head. “Do you think Linton can be chased away?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. Maybe not. But it’s worth a shot.” I turned to Clear, who hadn’t yet spoken a word. Gently, I asked, “Mom, how often does Linton bother you?”
She rubbed her arms. “He doesn’t, really,” she said, voice shaky.
Her answer surprised me. “He didn’t try cornering you outside the library the day we talked there?”
Her brow creased slightly. “No. I didn’t see him at all. He leaves me voicemails, pushing me to talk to him. Even offered me money recently.”
I winced, thinking I’d probably given him that idea.
“But the last time we physically spoke was a while ago.” She took a long, ragged breath. “Kensey, I’d feel a whole lot better if you moved in with me for a while. I don’t like the thought of you alone in that apartment, especially at night.”
“I can’t, Mom. Hear me out. I agree with Sarah—this person wants me isolated. If I was living with someone, I’d be the opposite of isolated. In other words, if I were to move in here, he could take out his frustrations on you.”
“I don’t care. You’re my daughter. It’s my job to protect you.”
Sherry put a hand over Clear’s. “Kensey has protection right now. Blake won’t let anything happen to her.” Sherry sighed at me. “Can’t say I think he’s good enough for you. I don’t. But I am confident that he has the resources to untangle this mess and locate the fucker upsetting you.”
“He’d better,” growled Dodger.
I turned back to Clear. “Mom, I need you to be careful around Linton, okay? If he tries talking to you, just keep walking and ignore him. Call me or Sherry if he does anything that scares you or even just makes you nervous.” I didn’t bother telling her to call the police—they wouldn’t heed her. “Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.” Then she started crying, but I’d known that was coming. Rather than coddle her, I said, “I’ll just give you a minute and go do the dishes.”
Her eyes snapped open, wide with something close to panic. “What? No.” Because she had her own way of washing dishes.
“Well then, we’ll do them together,” I said, knowing that cleaning would give her back a sense of order and control.
By the time we were done, she’d gotten herself together. But I didn’t revisit the who-the-hell-is-messing-with-me subject and instead asked how her last visit with Michael went. He was a topic that was always guaranteed to lift her mood.
Sherry, Dodger, Sarah, and Cade left around seven-thirty, but I stayed until eight, just as I’d planned.
Clear walked onto the porch with me as I was leaving and said, “I spoke to your dad on the phone yesterday. He’s worried about you. He’s not going to like hearing that we can’t know for sure who’s upsetting you. It devastates him that he can’t protect you.”
I inwardly frowned, thinking it was probably best that he couldn’t, since he had homicidal tendencies and all.
“Be careful, sweetie.” She gave me a tight hug. “Love you.”
I patted her back. “You, too.”
“My, my, my, who might this be?”
Pulling out of her arms, I turned. And my breath hitched as I saw that Blake had climbed out of Rossi’s car and was now talking with him through the lowered window.
With a quick beep of his horn, Rossi disappeared down the road. Blake then stalked up the path toward us, eyes fixed on mine. Maybe he hadn’t trusted me to arrange a meeting with Clear or something and was taking the matter into his own hands.
Smooth as ever, he reached out, took my hand, and drew me neatly to his side. “You’re ready on time. That’s unusual for you.”
I sniffed at him, even though he was totally right.
He turned to Clear. “You must be Kensey’s mother.”
“And you must be Blake.” She studied him from head to toe, taking in the well-ironed button-down shirt, tailored slacks, and gleaming shoes. I knew she’d like what she saw—a man who looked smart, well-groomed, and refined. He ticked her neat-freak boxes just fine.
“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Lyons,” said Blake.
“Likewise. I’ve heard a little about you. I understand you’re dating my daughter—now that you’ve seen she’s worth more than casual sex, I mean.”
I winced, but Blake’s mouth twitched.
“I always knew she was worth more, Ms. Lyons. I just wasn’t sure I could give it to her.”
She lifted a brow. “And now you are?”
“Now I am.”
She eyed him in silence for a few moments. “You should both come for dinner on Sunday. It’ll be nice to talk more with you, Blake.”
Mouth curving, he said, “I’ll be there.” He tugged me down the path and, to my surprise, easily slid into the passenger seat of my car.
Climbing inside, I clicked on my seat belt and said, “You handled her well.”
“I only said the truth.”
I gave her one last wave before pulling onto the road. “I’m surprised you didn’t insist on driving.”
He linked his fingers behind his head. “If I have to watch the road, I can’t watch you.”
And he did watch me. The heat of his gaze made my blood thicken, and I was incredibly aware of him sat so close. Close enough to touch and taste and—
I saw red and blue flashing lights in my rear-view mirror. Taking one look at the driver, I groaned. “Oh, here we go.”
Blake tensed. “What?”
“It’s just Joshua Buchanan,” I said as I brought the car to a stop. “He likes to pull me over, just to be a dick. Does the same thing every time—asks to see my license and registration, and peppers me with questions. Although he did go off-script last time. He asked me to take a Breathalyzer test to be sure I wasn’t drunk. He never charges me with anything. Just does it to fuck with me for his own amusement.”
“Does he now?”
The silky menace in Blake’s words had my head whipping to the side to look at him. But there was no anger in his expression. In fact, there was nothing at all there. Just a blank mask.
I almost jumped at the tap of a finger on my window. As I lowered it, Joshua grinned and said, “Well, Miss Lyons.”
Biting back the soul-deep urge to tell him to come back when his balls dropped, I said, “Office Buchanan. Lovely night, isn’t it?”
“It is. And it seems you have someone with—” Joshua cut off as he peered inside the car. “Blake?” He said the name with a familiarity that told me he knew Blake. Really, really knew him. Joshua licked his lips, losing some of his bluster. “I didn’t realize you knew Miss Lyons.”
“I’m surprised Libby didn’t tell you,” said Blake. “There something we can do for you?” Again, there was a hint of menace in his tone.
Joshua’s mouth tightened, and I could almost see him wrestling with his pride. When he lifted his chin, I knew that pride had won. “I just need to ask Miss Lyons some standard questions.”
“That was the wrong answer.” Blake opened the passenger door. “Stay inside, Kensey.”
Eyes wide, I reached for him. “Blake—” But he was already out of the car. Shit.
Joshua backed away from my window and turned to face Blake as he rounded the car. “Look, I have a job to do—”
“What you have is a problem with Kensey.” Blake stepped into his personal space. “Which means you now also have a problem with me.”
Reading the situation accurately, Joshua gaped. “You’re with her? Do you even know who she is? God, Blake, her father is a goddamn serial killer.”
“Maxwell went on a killing rampage? When did this happen?”
Cheeks reddening with rage, Joshua clenched his fists. “She’s not Maxwell’s daughter. She’s nothing to do with my family.”
“So why in hell can’t you and your ex leave her the fuck alone?”
Joshua’s mouth snapped shut.
“You have the same problem that the rest of your family has—you think you’re fucking special. To me, you’re nothing. No one. Kensey, however, is someone to me. She’s mine. And if you think you can pull stunts like this, you can think a-fucking-gain. You have ten seconds—no more, no less—to get out of my goddamn sight. If you don’t, I’ll put you through a world of pain so you don’t ever make the mistake of repeating this shit. And believe me, Buchanan, you don’t want that.” Then he whispered something. Something too low for me to catch.
Swallowing, Joshua looked from Blake to me … and then he stormed to his patrol car and was gone in a screech of tires. As I watched him drive off, I wondered what the hell had just happened.
Blake returned to the car, eyes hard as ice. “You okay?”
“What in the ever-loving fuck was that?”
His brows drew together. “What?”
“You just threatened a cop. A whiny-ass bully of a cop who takes great joy in abusing his position of power. But he didn’t arrest you. Didn’t even give you a warning. Why?”
“He knows better.”
What did that even mean? I just stared at Blake, hoping he’d elaborate. He didn’t.
His hand rubbed my knee. “Drive, baby.”
“How does he know you?”
“Lots of people know me.”
I ground my teeth. “Why is he so afraid of you?”
Blake sifted his fingers through my hair. “As you said, he’s a bully. Bullies are cowards at heart. They know from experience when they’re dealing with someone they don’t have a hope of taking on. You think if he arrested me I’d ever get charged with anything?”
Considering he could afford shit-hot lawyers, probably not, but … “It’s more than that. You have something on Joshua, don’t you?”
He squeezed my thigh. “You know there are things I can’t tell you.” The gentle reminder held an edge that told me to drop it.
“Won’t tell me,” I corrected. “You haven’t known me long enough to trust me with any secrets—I get that. I would never expect you to share things with someone you don’t fully trust. But I can’t say it doesn’t hurt that you keep secrets when I’m an open book to you.”
“I would never describe you as an open book. You’re very good at hiding what you’re thinking and feeling. You continuously surprise me to the point that I’ve given up trying to understand how your mind works. But your body … that I can read very well. Read and manipulate and control.” The hand on my thigh slid all the way up to my pussy. “Fuck, I wish you had a skirt on right now instead of these jeans. I’d be able to finger-fuck you all the way home.”
“Now you’re trying to distract me.”
Leaning toward me, he brushed his mouth over mine. “I told you, I’ll lay everything out for you one day.”
“How far in the future are we talking?”
He pursed his lips. “I don’t know.”
Well, at least he wasn’t trying to appease me with platitudes and excuses. I faced forward, wondering if he’d ever be ready to tell me, and said, “Let’s just go.”
He curled his hand around my chin, turned my face back to his, and kissed me. Hard. Deep. Demanding the response he wanted. At first, I was just too pissed to give it to him. But his tongue and teeth melted all the resistance and tension out of me, and soon I was kissing him back just as hard.
“There she is,” he said. “My good girl.” He bit my bottom lip and then laved it with his tongue. “I know nothing about me is easy, Kensey. I can’t change who I am. But I really do think you’d be bored with easy.”
The thing was … he was right.