CHAPTER THIRTEEN
TRYING NOT TO be too obvious, Merissa stuck close to the very nice officer who’d shown up to look things over for her.
For the tenth time, Officer Mead asked, “You’re sure you’re okay now?”
Given she continued to play his shadow, she could understand his uncertainty.
She forced a smile. “Yes. Thank you again. I’m so sorry I overreacted like that.”
“You didn’t,” he assured her. “It’s always better to be safe.”
Safe—but not hysterical.
Her face burned anew even as her imagination stayed in hyperdrive. First the robbery, then that near miss with a speeding car and now this.
She was sure of the sound she’d heard—and maybe she’d even seen a shadow. That could have been fear playing tricks with her eyes... But what if it wasn’t?
Something had triggered the alarm.
Had she become a target, or was she just being paranoid?
She’d never been paranoid before.
The shrill alarm had so badly startled her that a vague darkness had crept in around her. She’d come very close to fainting.
Luckily, at the last second the fog had receded, but then she’d gone straight into panic mode. After ungluing her feet from the stairs, she’d raced like a lunatic into her bedroom where she’d locked the door, grabbed the phone and crouched on the other side of her bed.
The second the monitoring station called, she’d replied that yes, she absolutely needed help, and she was pretty sure she’d sounded out of control.
The security tech promised to send a cop and had put the call through for her. Minutes later the very nice officer had arrived, and it had taken all her willpower to stop cowering in her bedroom and to go to the front door and let him in.
He certainly hadn’t been spooked. After she’d shut off the alarm system, he’d gone downstairs—with her trailing close because no way in hell was she waiting behind—and he’d found all the windows and the door to the walkout closed and locked.
Next she’d followed him upstairs, where he’d not only inspected every room, he’d even looked in closets and under the beds.
Still he’d found nothing.
That had led him outside to poke around, again, with her dogging his heels, and finally he’d deduced it could only have been a critter that got in through the attic because every door and window remained secure.
“That could set off the alarm?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe talk to your security company about it.” Going sympathetic, he asked, “Do you have someone you can invite over tonight? You probably shouldn’t be alone.”
No kidding. “I was just heading out,” she promised him. But the way he watched her made her lift her chin. “I’m not usually this jumpy. I’ve lived on my own for a while, actually. Sure, I used to have a roommate, but...” Drawing to a halt, she sighed. “You know about the recent bank robbery, right?”
“A month or so ago?”
“Yes. That was me.”
His mouth quirked. “A confession? You’re saying you robbed the place?”
“No!” She realized he was teasing and relaxed again. “I’m the manager there.”
“Well then, no wonder you’re a little nervous.”
“Right?” She didn’t tell him about her near miss in the roadway. Until now, she’d assumed her own negligence had almost caused the accident because she hadn’t been paying attention. But now... She’d had one near miss too many for her to entirely dismiss the idea that someone was after her.
Relieved that she hadn’t called her brother—or worse, Armie—Merissa walked with Officer Mead out to her car. “So...you won’t tell anyone how I totally lost it, will you?”
“You did all the right things,” he promised her. “And yeah, I’ll probably need to share the incident with Detective Riske since he’s working the bank robbery. But I’ll only give him details, same as I’ll write in my report.”
“Thank you.” By the time Logan Riske asked her questions, she’d be composed enough not to embarrass herself. And of course, she’d tell Cannon and Armie. If she was in danger, they needed to know.
Realistically she knew neither of them would judge her, but that didn’t seem to matter to her pride. Sometimes having a certified badass as a brother, and now being intimately involved with one, had its drawbacks. Comparisons could suck.
“How about I wait until you’re out of the driveway,” Officer Mead offered. “Once you’re on your way, then I’ll take off.”
Such a kind man. Gratitude engulfed her. “I would very much appreciate that.”
“Protect and serve, ma’am.” His smile warmed to an intimate degree.
Was he flirting? It certainly seemed so.
If she wasn’t already madly in love with Armie, she’d have gladly flirted back, but instead she said, “I’ve held you up long enough. Really, you’ve been wonderful. I don’t know what I would have done without you, so again, thank you.” And with that, she got in her car and secured the doors. Finally she was able to take a deep breath.
With the handsome young officer watching her, she waved, then backed out and drove away. Thinking it’d be better to get it out of the way, she tried to decide who to call first—her brother or Armie. She’d just decided on calling Armie when her phone rang, startling her. With a glance at the screen she saw it was Cherry.
As soon as she answered, she heard a lot of boisterous laughter and knew the ladies had gotten together. “Having a party without me?” she asked her best friend.
“Rissy! Where are you?”
Wondering at that, Merissa explained, “I just left my house and I’m heading to Armie’s.”
“Scrap that. Come join us instead.”
Vanity chimed in, saying, “We’re all here and just waiting on you.”
“All who?” Merissa asked.
“Me,” Yvette sang out, followed by Harper’s, “Me, too!”
“Guess what we’re doing,” Cherry whispered, followed by gales of laughter from the others.
“Drinking?” she guessed.
“Not a drop.” Then in a rush, Cherry said, “We’re at the porn store. You know, that seedy little place in town that sells DVDs and God-only-knows what else.”
No way. “Why?”
“We’re going shopping,” Vanity told her.
Shopping for porn? Merissa laughed nervously. “You’re making that up.”
“Nope,” Yvette said. “And just so you know, I busted Armie shopping here once. I thought it was still just a place that rented DVDs.”
The other women started heckling Yvette, and Merissa heard Vanity say, “Yeah, uh-huh, sure you did.”
“Hey, I’d just returned to the area!” Yvette insisted. “I didn’t have cable set up yet, so I figured to get an old movie. I had no way of knowing things had changed so much.”
“The fun part,” Vanity interrupted her to say, “is that she ran into Armie, and he admitted he shops there often.”
Often? Merissa hadn’t seen any porn around his apartment, but then, she hadn’t snooped. There were a lot of drawers that remained a mystery to her. “What did he buy?” she asked in a whisper of her own.
Cracking up, Vanity said, “Meet us at the shop and we’ll all go inside to see.”
Oh, she wanted to. Curiosity killed her, but she’d never had the nerve to do more than glance toward the shop whenever she went past.
“You have time,” Cherry said, reclaiming her phone while the buzz of conversation drifted in. “Denver called me to say he’d be late because Armie would be late. Something about that guy Armie is supposed to fight—”
“Carter Fletcher.”
“Right. He dropped in the rec center so Denver is hanging around to hear what it was about. And then Armie wants to check on a boy who’s having a rough time of it, and Denver wanted to go along. They’ll be a minimum of an hour late, but probably longer.”
“Where are the other guys?”
“Stack’s busy setting up some gym equipment in Vanity’s basement—”
“It’s our basement now,” Vanity sang out, “because Stack is all mine, so what’s mine is his.”
Cherry laughed and added, “Gage and Cannon were heading over there to help out.”
“So we’re all free, then.” Did she dare join them? Merissa gave it quick thought, and nodded. “I’m ten minutes away.”
“Yay! This is going to be so fun.”
Merissa had her doubts about that, but she couldn’t let the other ladies go in without her. Besides, after the scare she’d had at her house, she didn’t want to be alone in Armie’s apartment. “You’ll wait for me outside?”
“We’re sitting in Harper’s car. Drive safe, but hurry!”
Merissa disconnected, and instead of going straight, took the first left. No reason now to call Armie or her brother, since she knew they were both busy.
Later would be a better time to clue them in.
Much, much later.
* * *
SOON AS CARTER took off, Denver joined him, getting into the passenger seat of his truck without fanfare, then strapping on his seat belt.
Surprised, Armie cocked a brow. “Am I playing chauffeur?”
“To Bray’s house, yeah. I decided to go along. You can drop me off here on your way home.”
What the hell? He didn’t need a babysitter. “You want to tell me why?”
With a roll of one shoulder, Denver said, “I’m worried about the kid, too.”
That was acceptable, but then Denver went on.
“And you have a fight soon. If shit goes sideways, no reason for you to chance getting hurt.”
“Get out of my truck.”
Denver grinned at him. “Nope.”
“Asshole.”
Unperturbed, Denver nodded. “You’re welcome.”
Sighing, Armie put the truck in gear and pulled away. As he drove, he waited, but Denver didn’t ask him about Carter’s visit, a fact he couldn’t ignore. “Denver?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks.”
As if he’d expected it, Denver said, “There ya go.”
Just to lighten the mood, Armie asked, “Will Cherry be at home pining for you while you act as my escort tonight?”
“Maybe.” He slanted Armie a look of complete satisfaction. “The way that girl pines is enough to make me rip my jeans.”
Armie laughed. “She loves you. That’s a good thing.”
“Very good.”
“And vice versa.”
“She’s mine,” Denver said in agreement. “As it turns out, though, she’s out with Yvette, Vanity and Harper. The guys are helping Stack get some equipment set up.”
Armie wondered if he could ever claim Merissa as his. In his heart, he’d done so long ago—but his brain had always insisted it wasn’t meant to be.
And now, with creeps skulking around and leaving anonymous notes on windshields...
His thoughts came to a screeching halt when he pulled up to the small clapboard house that matched Bray’s address. Through the open windows, rank curses echoed around the neighborhood. As Armie sat there—only seconds really—the warped screen door flew open and Bray shot out, tripping over his own feet.
A big bastard lumbered out after him. Dressed in his boxers and a wife-beater undershirt, he stumbled and cursed as he gave chase, fists bunched, face florid—and unfortunately, he caught Bray by the back of the shirt, literally yanking the boy off his feet so that he hit the ground hard.
Behind them a woman cried, feebly tugging at the man’s arm.
Both truck doors slammed as Armie and Denver moved at the same time. When Bray tried to get up, the man slung him back to the ground, and to Armie’s disbelief, the miserable fuck lifted his boot to kick. The woman sobbed, begging...
“That’s enough!”
Armie’s command drew everything to a halt. Hell, even the birds in the trees stopped chirping. Stiff necked, Bray rolled away, the man quickly redirected his anger at Armie and the woman slumped down to sit on a broken porch step, her gaze darting everywhere.
Denver’s heavy stride kept pace, but he allowed Armie to speak. “Bray, come here.”
White with shock, Bray looked up—and no one could miss the wet, red eyes, or the suppressed rage and shame.
Jesus, Armie wanted to kill someone, preferably the man manhandling a fifteen-year-old kid.
Bray stood, shouldering a sleeve over each cheek to remove dirt and, probably, tears. He didn’t come to Armie, so with Denver at his side, Armie went to him.
As they neared, the guy eyed him and Denver with loathing, then hauled Bray close, keeping him caught in his grip. “This isn’t your business.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong about that.” Without slowing, Armie strode right up to the man until he met him, chest to chest. It’d be so easy, so fucking easy, to give the bastard a taste of his own abuse. Instead, Armie glanced at the hand on Bray’s arm, and whispered, “Turn him loose.”
Narrowing his eyes and smiling slowly, the man did just that, giving Bray a shove that sent him back to his ass again.
Armie crowded closer. “That was a miserable, chicken-shit move. You any better at pushing around grown men, or do you specialize in boys?”
“Bray,” the woman said, her voice high and shrill and fearful. “What’s going on? Who are these people?”
Leaving the man to Armie, Denver approached the woman, hand extended. “I’m Denver Lewis, ma’am. And that’s my friend, Armie Jacobson. We’re Bray’s friends.”
“What grown men hang with boys?” the man asked.
“We’re from the rec center,” Denver explained.
“Fighters,” she breathed, horrified. “Russell, they’re trained fighters!”
Huh. That changed Russell’s attitude real quick.
The unholy smile disappeared under a cautious frown. He shifted his heavy gaze away and glared at Bray. “Get your ass back in the house.”
“I don’t think so,” Armie said before Bray could reply one way or the other.
“This ain’t got nothing to do with you!” Russell reached for Bray.
Armie stepped into his path. Keeping his tone calm but firm, he asked, “You’re his father?”
Bray snorted. “No.”
The man snapped, again reaching for Bray. “You better watch that smart mouth, boy!”
Armie stepped him back, all the way to his porch. That must’ve been pushing the big bully too far, because he threw a wild haymaker, swinging a lunch box–sized fist toward Armie’s face.
With practiced ease Armie lifted his forearm to block the blow, then delivered one short jab to the man’s bloated gut.
Retching, Russell bent double.
The woman, who only moments before had been crying for her son, immediately fell to her knees, frantically caring for the bully.
“Russell? Oh my God, are you okay? Russell?” She pet on him, hugged him, all the while crying.
Russell gave her a shove, but she scrambled right back.
It was like déjà vu for Armie. The hairs on the back of his neck lifted. Every muscle in his body twitched.
The woman had her own bruises, but she fawned over the man as if he was some innocent victim.
Disgusted, Armie turned to Bray and found the boy walking away.
Damn. “You got this?” he asked Denver.
Denver blinked. “Uh, sure.”
In a jog, Armie went after Bray. When he caught up, he didn’t touch him, just kept pace. “Where ya going?”
Bray rolled a shoulder, kept his head down and dogged on.
“He’s your stepfather?”
“He’s nothing.” Then, reluctantly, Bray added, “Her boyfriend, I guess. I don’t know.”
“She’s your mother?”
Nothing.
“Can we stop to talk a minute?”
Bray hunched his shoulders more. “No point.”
Shit. Armie stepped around in front of the boy. “Please.”
With a mammoth chip on his shoulder, Bray met his gaze and waited.
Deciding to just get through it, Armie asked, “Has he been around long?”
“Couple of months.”
“He’s hit you? Before today?”
Bray’s lips trembled, his eyes narrowed and he tried to do more walking.
“Never mind.” Before Bray could leave him, Armie thought to ask, “What about before him?”
“Before him there was another guy, and another before that. What of it?”
So his mother routinely brought in abusive asses? A deep breath didn’t help much. Mothers should protect their sons. The whole scenario felt far too familiar and personal. Hands on his hips, Armie asked, “Do you have anywhere to go?”
“Sure.”
Frustrated with that short answer, Armie asked, “Where?”
“It’s called none-of-your-business.”
The smart-ass reply so surprised him that Armie laughed. He didn’t mean to. Seriously, there was nothing funny about the situation. But he liked Bray, and he especially liked that the boy hadn’t lost his backbone. “You know what?”
Bray narrowed his eyes.
“You remind me of me—and just so we’re clear, that’s not a compliment.”
This time Bray’s mouth twitched before he firmed it again, quickly reclaiming his “fuck off” attitude.
Growing somber, Armie said softly, “You know I have to call the cops.”
“No,” Bray growled, “you don’t have to do anything.”
He wished it otherwise. In fact, Armie wished he could just put the kid in his truck and take him home with him. But Bray wasn’t a stray pet, and there were legalities involved, not to mention a whole lot of emotional baggage that Armie might not be equipped to deal with. The last thing he wanted was to screw this up and make things worse for Bray. “I’m afraid I do.”
They heard a sudden commotion behind them and turned together to see Russell proving himself to be ten times an idiot as he tried to tackle Denver. Surprised, Denver quickly adjusted and caught Russell in a sleeper hold. The woman wailed and screamed and slapped ineffectually at Denver’s bowling-ball biceps.
Again in unison, Armie and Bray sighed.
They eyed each other.
“Damn it.” Bray snatched up a rock and threw it hard, narrowly missing Armie’s truck, although he hadn’t been aiming at anything in particular. “I hate foster care.”
Armie’s heart wrenched. “You’ve had some bad ones?”
“No.” His nostrils flaring with the fast, uneven breaths, Bray swallowed convulsively. The way he put his shoulders back made him look far too stoic for a fifteen-year-old. “Foster care’s been fine.”
“Then—”
“I always end up back here.” Resigned, the kid looked toward his mother. “Just as well. She needs me.”
Armie watched him head toward the woman now frantically calling his name, alternately blaming and pleading for his help.
No way could Armie leave this alone. He wouldn’t make promises yet; first he had to figure out the system and see what options he had.
But Bray wasn’t alone, and he needed to know that.
* * *
THE TRAFFIC LIGHTS cooperated and Merissa made it there in eight minutes. As soon as she got close she spotted Harper and Vanity sitting on the trunk of the car, with Cherry and Yvette both still inside the vehicle. As the sunlight faded a streetlamp flickered on, adding ambience to their adventure.
Grinning, Merissa parked right behind them. Soon as she did, the other ladies emerged.
“You’re really going to do this?” she asked Cherry. In many ways, her best friend came off as the life of the party. But deep down Merissa knew she was really reserved about certain things.
“Denver tried to lecture me about sex,” Cherry told her, as if that explained her daring. “Do you believe that?”
Vanity said, “I believe it. Denver’s awesome, but he’s also domineering.”
Sighing, Cherry said, “He is,” as if that made him more perfect.
Merissa laughed, then asked Vanity, “Does Stack know you’re here?”
“Shoot, no.”
“He and Cannon would have come along for sure,” Yvette told them.
“Stack would gladly tour me through the place,” Vanity said with a grin. “But no way would he want me here without him.”
“So.” Harper lifted her brows. “We going to stand here talking tough, or are we going in?”
Fist in the air, Vanity said, “We go in.”
Everyone agreed, and then they all crowded together.
In a tight cluster they stepped through the door and into the well-lit video section of the shop. The cashier, a younger guy with a shaved and tattooed head, glanced up from a magazine, snickered, and then ignored them.
Moving like a gaggle of ducks, they looked around. “It’s regular movies,” Harper whispered.
Yvette pointed toward a lighted door on the far wall. “The good stuff is back there.”
“We’re pathetic,” Merissa said. Giving Vanity a nudge, she got them moving again. There were a few men in the place, and they tracked the women with interest.
“This is supercreepy.” Cherry gave a nervous giggle. “And I feel like an idiot.”
When they reached the door, Vanity used the hem of her shirt to protect her hand from the probable germs on the knob. After a beat of expectation, she swung open the door with great fanfare, and together they stepped into the dimly lit room.
Wide-eyed, Merissa looked around. Dildos and vibrators hung from the ceiling in many shapes and sizes and colors. She choked as she took in the elaborate variety.
Her cohorts were equally impressed.
Next Merissa scanned the shelves and saw some... Fake lady parts? She leaned in to look closer. Yup. Lady parts.
In boxes.
A giggle started up her throat.
Then she saw the movies—and Oh my God—the movie titles. They were so absurdly bad.
Maybe everything just added up. Maybe she was already strung too tight. For whatever reason she started making these awful, chortling, snorting noises, and even as everyone else turned to watch her warily, she couldn’t stop.
Very shortly the rest of the ladies joined her, and within a minute they were all roaring with hilarity.
* * *
COPS WERE JUST pulling up when Armie got a call. He glanced at the screen, saw it was Leese and answered with, “If it’s not important—”
“Rissy’s at the porn shop.”
Armie almost fell over. “Say what?”
In a rush, Leese said, “Not just her, but Vanity, Cherry, Yvette and Harper, too. Justice and I were driving by and saw them. I was going to beep and wave, but then I realized what they were doing.”
Stock-still, Armie asked, “What?”
“Going in.”
Couldn’t be true. Armie snorted.
“I know, right? But that’s what they did,” Leese insisted. “They marched in like they owned the place.”
“You’re positive it was them?”
“I’m not an idiot.” Impatience sounded in Leese’s tone. “Vanity led the way, Yvette and Rissy were in the middle and Harper sort of dragged Cherry along.”
“Un-fucking-believable.”
“I just thought you should know.”
Armie chewed his upper lip, but he couldn’t walk off on Bray. “I’m going to be held up for a bit—”
“Want me to stick around and keep an eye on things?”
“Yeah.” He popped his neck, feeling evil. “But if possible, don’t let any of them see you. Denver and I will be there as soon as we can.”
“Should I call the other guys?”
“Sure.” Armie liked that idea. Anticipating their reactions, he said, “Let’s make a party of it.”
Leese laughed. “Damn, as a single man, I’m almost jealous.”
Officially, Armie was still single himself. But he went right past that fact to tell Leese, “You should be. Now keep an eye on things and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”