CHAPTER FIFTEEN
IT WAS STILL dark when the ringing of Armie’s phone caused Merissa to stir. She lifted her head and found Armie looking at her.
A blush immediately burned her cheeks. She’d refused to be put off, had forced her way into his house, and then allowed him to cuff her to his bed.
Giving her a knowing smile, Armie lifted her hand from his chest and kissed her wrist. “Next time,” he rumbled in a sleep-heavy voice, “we’ll use the ankle cuffs, too.”
“No—” she shook her head to emphasize that denial “—we won’t.”
“Little by little, Rissy. You’ll come around.” Releasing her, he stretched, then picked up the phone to see who had called. “Your brother,” he told her, already pushing up to sit against the headboard.
While he called Cannon back, Merissa made her getaway to the restroom. Scenes from the night before kept playing through her head. Armie hadn’t wanted her there.
If it hadn’t been for the noises she’d heard in her house, pride would have kept her from pushing the issue. As she had in the past, she would have walked away from him.
But the idea of going home alone spooked her, no way would she have imposed on her brother and Yvette—not after Yvette had just bought massage oil—and she wasn’t about to rent a room in her own small town.
So she’d swallowed her pride, forced herself on Armie and gotten phenomenal sex in return.
Not a bad trade-off.
Today, however, she needed to tell her brother what she suspected. Armie, too, in fact. Because she honestly believed someone had been in her house, they both needed to know. She wasn’t a dummy and didn’t take unnecessary risks. Never mind that the nice officer hadn’t found anything; she wasn’t an alarmist, and that meant someone might have intruded.
Better safe than sorry.
She finished up and was about to leave the bathroom until she saw her wrecked hair in the mirror. She quickly brushed it, then went ahead and gargled and splashed her face. Still naked, she dried her hands—and Armie pounded on the bathroom door, making her nearly jump out of her skin. “Good grief, Armie!”
“Open up, Stretch.”
What in the world? She unlocked the door and Armie stepped in. He, too, was naked, and looking fairly pissed off.
Hands on her hips, Merissa asked, “What’s your problem?”
“You had the cops at your house last night and didn’t tell me.”
Oh. That. “How did you—”
“That’s why Cannon called. Damn it, Stretch, you should have told me last night.” He loomed closer, crowding her with testosterone and an angry vibe. “If I’d known that was why you wanted to stay over so badly, I wouldn’t have—”
“What?” she asked, her own temper sparking. And then leaning into his space even more, asked succinctly, “Cuffed me to your bed?”
Scowling, Armie opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
With a hand on his chest she shoved her way past him. “And for your information, I’d planned to tell both you and Cannon this morning.” How her brother had found out already, she wasn’t sure. Maybe Detective Riske had talked with him or something.
Behind her, Armie said nothing. After a long pause she heard the quiet closing of the bathroom door.
She headed into the bedroom to pull on clothes. The tight jeans, turned inside out and tangled on the floor, didn’t appeal, so instead she snatched up the T-shirt Armie had removed the night before. She and Armie were of a similar height but given the breadth of his chest and shoulders, the shirt drooped enough to cover her completely like a very baggy dress.
It was still early so she went to the kitchen to make some much-needed coffee. She’d just finished when Armie walked in carrying the book she’d bought and wearing only loose boxers that read: This is where my monster hides.
Fighting a grin, Merissa turned away to stare out the kitchen window. The view wasn’t great: just more buildings and a part of the street. But she could see the moon fading into the horizon as dawn lent a purplish hue to the skies.
She heard the book drop to the table and a second later, warm arms closed around her, pulling her back into a warmer chest. Her hands naturally settled over his taut forearms, and she stroked the soft hair covering his colorful tats.
Armie’s whisker-rough cheek brushed her throat. “I’m sorry.”
Because she hadn’t expected that, she asked cautiously, “For what?”
“Being a dick, mostly.” He gave a toe-curling love bite to her shoulder. “But not for the sex, because the sex was a milestone for me.”
She doubted that, but said, “For me, too.” The sex was always amazing with Armie.
“I like your book.”
She snorted. “You would.”
His smile teased against her skin. “You planning to try some of the stuff in it?”
“I don’t know.” She wasn’t entirely sure what the book included. “Maybe it depends on whether or not you continue being a dick.”
Sighing, he let her go and stepped back, leaning on the table and crossing his powerful arms. “We both know I probably will, even when I don’t mean to.”
That gave Merissa pause. “You know I don’t expect you to be perfect, right?” The coffee finished and she poured two cups.
When he only watched her, she handed him the cup and smiled. “Since I’m not perfect myself, I don’t expect you to be. We’ll both screw up sometimes. No big deal.”
He rubbed at a shoulder. “Last night sucked.”
Her heart clutched.
“Before you, I mean.”
Thankful for the clarification, Merissa took a seat and asked, “Will you tell me about it?”
He eyed the coffee, took a sip and made a sound of bliss. “All right. But right after, we’re talking about you.”
She could handle that. Gesturing at the chair opposite her, she said, “We have time this morning, right?”
“It’s early still.” He sat, sipped again, and then being far too brief, told her about the fighter, Carter Fletcher, and the boy, Bray Huggins.
“Someone is trying to sabotage your debut in the SBC?”
“I assume that’s what the note is about.”
He seemed less concerned with that than he was for Bray. “What will you do?”
His lean jaw bunched and he looked away. “No idea yet, but it’s probably going to get ugly.”
And he expected her to run scared?
His eyes narrowed. “It could also get dangerous.”
Maybe it already had. Maybe that had something to do with her break-in? If there’d been a break-in. She still didn’t know.
Refusing to look intimidated, Merissa asked, “And the boy? Were you able to resolve anything?”
Armie shook his head. “He’s back in protective custody. He’ll probably go to a familiar foster family—a family who cares for him. But...” He squeezed the bridge of his nose. “It all sucks for him. A kid should be safe at home. He should have parents who protect him.”
With a heavy heart, Merissa reached out and touched his wrist. She knew Armie genuinely cared for Bray, but the situation was similar enough to his own as a youth, it had to be an awful reminder. “I’m sorry.”
“That’s why I needed some time last night.” His big hand curled into a fist on the tabletop. “I was feeling seriously...”
“Violent?” she offered, imagining how a man with Armie’s heart and sense of honor would react to threats both against himself and a boy.
“Good word for it, yeah.” He stared at his coffee. “I didn’t want to bring that to you.”
So he’d tried to brush her off to protect her—at a time when he’d probably needed her most. “It’s understandable that you’d be furious. But, Armie, no matter what, I know you’d never hurt me.” Deciding there was too much space between them, Merissa left her seat and instead crawled into Armie’s lap. “Can I ask you something?”
He gave a rueful half smile. “Pretty sure I couldn’t stop you, even if I wanted to.”
True enough. Worried for the answer, she put her cheek to his shoulder and avoided his gaze. “You didn’t want me over last night, but you did want sex. Does that mean you planned to call another woman?”
He was quiet so long, Merissa got annoyed and sat up to glare at him.
Unfortunately, he glared right back. “Now you’re doubting my word?”
“What?”
“I told you I wouldn’t see any other women, but you just—”
“No I didn’t.” Okay, she had, but denial seemed like a good way to go. Merissa hugged him tight again for good measure. “I believe you... I really do.”
As if he couldn’t resist, Armie tucked her closer. He sounded pained when he admitted, “I don’t want anyone but you.”
Then she was doubly glad she’d forced her way in last night. “So.” Hoping to lighten his mood, she asked, “What were you planning to do before you cuffed me to the bed?”
She felt his body tense, then deliberately relax. “Truthfully? I’d planned to jog and maybe look for trouble.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“The kind where I could expend some energy.”
“Armie!” He couldn’t be that cavalier about risking his career. “You have an upcoming fight.”
“I haven’t forgotten.”
His dry tone didn’t sit well with her. She frowned. “Then you should know that you can’t go brawling in the streets, risking injury or—”
“Right.” Cutting off further remonstrations, he tipped her back, looked at her mouth and kissed her. “Now you. What happened last night?”
This would require more coffee. She was reaching for her cup when a knock sounded on Armie’s front door.
He blew out a breath and stood her on her feet. “He got here quick.”
“Who?”
“Your brother.”
“What?”
“Just as well,” Armie said, as if she wasn’t standing there wearing nothing more than one of his shirts. “You can explain to both of us at once, instead of retelling it to him later.”
“You could have told me he was coming over!” Men. Dashing away, Merissa headed for the bedroom and more clothes.
Behind her, Armie laughed.
She was still untangling her jeans when she heard antagonistic voices—and neither of them belonged to Cannon.
* * *
LIKE A PUNCH to the chest, the sight of his father at the front door stole Armie’s air. For damn near a decade he’d imagined the day when he’d see his dad again. He’d planned out what he’d say, how he’d react. Over and over in his head, he’d rehearsed the whole damn thing.
Now, in this particular moment, none of that mattered.
All he felt was crushing resentment.
He started to slam the door, but Mac Jacobson got his size-twelve foot in first.
“Is that any way to greet your dad?” his father asked.
Jaw muscles ticking, Armie said, “We disowned each other years ago, so get lost.”
Since his father didn’t remove his foot, Armie couldn’t slam the door in his face. But that didn’t mean he’d let the man in. Bluffing, he said, “Move it or lose it.”
“You always were a complete bitch.”
Okay, so breaking his foot didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. Armie was considering it when from behind him, he heard a small sound.
He looked back over his shoulder and there stood Merissa, a million questions and just as many emotions on her face. Barefoot, still wearing his shirt but now with jeans, she watched him.
Mac took advantage of his momentary lack of attention and shoved his way in.
“Shit,” Armie muttered.
Nearly as tall as him, with the same bulky shoulders, Mac Jacobson could intimidate a lot of people. But Armie had gone toe-to-toe with him as a kid. Now, as a man, nothing about his father impressed him, not his size, his strength, and sure as hell not his blood connection.
“I’m telling you for the last time—”
Mac pulled a worn cap off his head, showing dirty hair in need of a cut. He nodded toward Merissa. “Didn’t realize you had company.”
Stepping in front of him, Armie blocked his view. “Out.”
That made Mac laugh. “Shit, boy. You afraid of me seeing your girlfriend?” His mouth tweaked into a nasty smile. “Or am I interruptin’?”
“She’s not my—”
“Armie?”
Jesus, no. He wished her anywhere but here with his estranged father in the room. No good would come of Mac knowing Merissa was important to him. His father would use her like a pawn, uncaring if she got hurt in the bargain.
Without looking at her, Armie asked, “Will you wait for me in the other room?”
At almost the same time, Mac pushed past him, hand extended. “I’m Armie’s pops. And you are?”
Armie jerked him back around. “She’s none of your goddamned business.”
Unimpressed with his rage, Mac said approvingly, “She’s a tall drink, isn’t she?”
Armie didn’t want to maim his father in front of Rissy. He didn’t want his father to see him losing his shit, either.
And he absolutely didn’t want Mac Jacobson to get any info on Rissy at all.
“She,” Rissy said, “respects Armie’s wishes. So I’ll be in the other room.”
God love the girl. Feeling empowered by her faith, Armie turned to the man who’d tried to bury him with lies. “You’re going to get out now, or I promise I’ll throw you out—and I won’t be gentle.”
“How about we hold up on that.” Choosing that inauspicious moment to arrive, Cannon stepped in and clicked the door shut behind everyone. He stared down at Mac. “Armie might not care, but I’m curious why you’re here.”
“You’re right,” Armie told everyone. “I don’t care.”
Cannon smiled at him. “Because you’re not yet thinking about connections—but I am. So how about you let me handle this?”
Armie almost laughed, it was so screwed up. He’d never deny Cannon, not if he could help it. And Cannon, damn him, knew it.
Gesturing grandly, Armie said, “Sure. Let the inquisition begin.”
Cannon nodded to Rissy, who still hovered near the hallway. “Rissy, you might as well hang around. This could take a while.”
Armie met his friend’s gaze, and knew Cannon was up to something. Fine, whatever.
But why did it have to involve Rissy?
He didn’t want her anywhere near his sad excuse for a parent. But again, if that’s what Cannon wanted...
Relenting, he turned to her and held out a hand. “Looks like the party is in here, Stretch, and apparently you’re invited.”
* * *
“I REMEMBER YOU,” Mac said. “You and Armie were thick as thieves back in the day. You liked to play his guardian angel, didn’t you? Always digging him out of trouble.”
“You’re as wrong now as you were back then. Not that I expected you to change.” Cannon wished he could somehow make this easier on Armie, but with a father like his, that wasn’t possible.
“Yeah,” Mac murmured, “that’s how you always told it.”
It all had to be connected: threats against Armie, against his sister, and now, after so many years, Armie’s degenerate dad suddenly knocked on his door.
“Let’s go to the kitchen,” Cannon said, doing what he could to keep things civil. “Rissy, is that coffee I smell?”
“Yes, and there’s some left.”
Cannon held back and let Rissy go first, then Armie, then Mac. No way in hell would he trust Armie’s dad at his back.
Unfortunately, Mac made a beeline for a book on the table, picking it up and then laughing. “Yours?” he asked Armie.
Going beet red and scowling, Rissy snatched it away from him. “It’s mine.”
Mac looked at Armie. “You always were a lucky fuck.”
Even knowing Armie’s language usually included profanities, Cannon told Mac, “You’ll watch your mouth in front of my sister.”
“Sister?”
With a deadly stare that held clear warning, Cannon nodded. “That’s right.”
“Damn, boy.” He barked another laugh at Armie. “Scratching that itch a little close to home, aren’t you?”
Armie made a move, and Cannon clasped his shoulder. “This is on me, remember?”
Ignoring that, Armie shoved into Mac’s space, every muscle knotted tight. “Insult her again and I’ll take you apart and there’s not a goddamn thing Cannon will do about it.”
Mac held up both hands. “Jesus, boy. It was just an observation.” He stepped back, and then took a seat, his gaze darting everywhere. “Don’t suppose I could get a cup of that coffee, too?”
Rissy refilled her and Armie’s cups and handed Cannon his before setting one before Mac. She took the seat across from him, and Armie stood at her side—which meant Cannon had to stand, too, because he didn’t trust Armie’s mood. He looked ready to launch at Mac with any provocation at all.
“Why are you here?” Cannon asked after everyone had tasted their coffee.
“If I say that’s between my boy and me, would it matter?”
Armie and Cannon said, “No,” at almost the same time.
“Fine.” Sitting forward, Mac put his folded arms on the table and took another shifty look around the room. “I figured we could help each other.”
“No.”
Exasperated, Cannon asked Armie, “Can we find out what kind of help he’s talking about?”
Armie didn’t look like he wanted to, but he held silent.
“I need money,” Mac announced.
After staring, Armie laughed and roughly ran a hand over his head. Cannon saw Merissa touch his back.
His sister was good for Armie. Cannon hoped Armie remembered that when everything imploded for him. For too long Armie had denied his feelings—about everything. He was stoic, too strong for his own good, and more than anything else, he needed to take down some of the walls he’d built, the walls that Cannon knew he’d deny having.
“So you’re broke?” Cannon asked Mac. “I’m not surprised. What does that have to do with Armie?”
“He needs an alibi.” Mac held up a hand. “Or at least he needs me to say he didn’t rape no girl.”
“No,” Merissa whispered, “he doesn’t.” Slowly, all but shaking with rage, she came out of her seat. “Because he didn’t.”
Everyone stared at her in surprise.
Mac was the first to break the spell. Frowning, he told Armie, “You managed to bury it once, but all that old shit is about to come back up again. People have already asked me about it. What I tell them is up to you.”
“Tell them the truth!”
Now it was Armie restraining Rissy. “Settle down, Stretch,” he told her quietly.
Instead she darted around Armie’s hold. Cannon caught her before she reached Mac and kept her at his side. But he let her speak. Hell, if nothing else, it was nice to see Armie’s blindsided expression.
Punctuating each word with rage, she said again, “Tell. The. Truth.”
“The truth is a tricky thing, girl.”
“Only to a liar.”
Whoa. Silence fell around the room.
Eyebrows up, Cannon moved slightly in front of her in case Mac did the unthinkable. Stony-faced, Armie stepped up to her other side.
Mac looked from Armie to Cannon and then to Rissy. His lip curled. “Got your skirts fighting your battles now? Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
Armie flattened a hand to her abdomen, keeping her still. “You have two seconds to say what you want before I toss you to the curb.”
Mac shoved back his chair. “A grand.”
“For what?” Cannon asked. “Spell it out.”
“For me to say he never raped anyone.”
“No,” Armie told him flatly. “Anything else?”
Cannon wished his sister and Armie would cool down a few degrees so he could get some answers. “Who approached you?” he asked.
Mac shifted shrewd eyes in his direction, and apparently decided to deal with him while ignoring the others. “Don’t know, and if you want me to find out, it’ll cost you.”
“What do you know?” Rissy demanded with palpable impatience.
“I got a call asking me about that nasty bit of business. Wanting details and such.” He lifted one heavy shoulder. “Told ’em the same as I just said here—info costs money.”
“And?” Cannon asked, before Rissy could tear into the bastard. “Did you come to an agreement?”
“He’s supposed to call back.” Mac licked his lips while sending a furtive glance at Armie. “Figured I might check with my son first, to see if he’d be interested in upping the ante.”
Yeah, right. More likely the deal had fallen through but had inspired Mac to try a scam of his own. “You don’t know who called?”
“Nope.” Mac worked his back teeth together and again glanced at Armie. “I saw you have that big fight comin’ up. That’s got to be worth something, right? I looked up paydays, and the fighters make out real nice.”
Cannon almost laughed. New fighters rarely made enough to cover expenses, especially if competing meant they couldn’t carry a regular day job. Armie was the exception to the rule; he really would clean up, especially after he won. But none of that was Mac’s business.
“Shame to see that opportunity screwed by your past,” Mac sneered. “At least that’s how I see it. So what’s it to be?”
Looking at Cannon, Armie asked, “Are we done here?”
“Yeah, we are.”
“Now wait a damn minute,” Mac said with a measure of alarm. “We can negotiate—”
“No,” Cannon told him, “we can’t.”
“Wait here,” Armie said in the general direction of Cannon and Rissy. He turned to his dad. “You leaving on your own steam, or am I putting you out?”
Mac didn’t look too keen on being alone with Armie, but he went along anyway. When Rissy started to follow, Cannon caught her arm.
“No, hon, let Armie handle this his way.”
Devastated, Rissy turned to him. “But, my God, Cannon,” she whispered, “his father is awful.”
“Worse than you can imagine.” It worried Cannon, too, but as a man he understood Armie’s need to deal with his father on his own. “I needed you to see him.”
Armie had looked cold and remote, but his sister just looked crushed. Swallowing hard, her gaze on the doorway where Armie had walked away, she whispered, “Why?”
“So you’d really understand who Armie is, where he came from and what he’s up against.”
She sank into a chair. For only a second her eyes got glassy and her lips trembled. Cannon held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t cry.
He should have known better.
Rissy slowly inhaled, pulled herself together and firmed her backbone. “Armie turned out so great.”
Glad his sister wasn’t the weepy sort, Cannon smiled. “Yeah, despite his circumstances. But he doesn’t always believe it.” Angry voices came from the other room, and when Rissy started to rise again, Cannon stayed her with a hand to her shoulder. “It shames him for you to meet his father. Hell, it shames him for me to know the man.”
Rissy clenched her fists. “How do you keep from flattening him?”
“Good or bad, he’s Armie’s father. But yeah, it’s sometimes tempting.” Cannon smoothed her hair. It amused him that she wore Armie’s shirt but had probably forgotten. And that book... Wincing, he decided he wouldn’t think about that too much. “So, hon.”
She looked up at him with eyes so much like his own.
Feeling very much like the protective big brother—a role he loved—Cannon asked, “You and Armie?”
After a peek at the doorway, Rissy said, “I love him.”
Nice to have it confirmed, and for her not to shy away from the truth.
“But,” she added, “if you tell him, I’ll disown you.”
Because that was so funny, Cannon pulled her from her chair and into a bear hug. That’s how Armie found them when he stepped back in.
“Hey.” Armie searched Rissy’s face as she disengaged from Cannon’s hold. “Everything okay?”
She nodded. “He’s gone?”
“Yeah.”
Probably not for good, though. Once Mac smelled an opportunity, he’d ruthlessly chase it down. “Did he tell you anything else?” Cannon asked.
“Bunch of lies. You know how he is. Don’t worry about it.” Clearly done with that topic, Armie folded his arms and stared at Rissy. Pretending his father had never shown up, he said, “Now, about you and whatever the hell had the cops at your house yesterday.” He lifted his chin at her. “Let’s hear it.”