CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
WHEN HER CELL rang again, Merissa glanced at the call ID, saw it was Steve and ignored it. She had zero interest in talking to him and she’d tell him so, for the hundredth time, except that for once she wanted to get out of the bank on time.
It wasn’t easy trying to stay productive while missing Armie so much.
Did he miss her, too?
From what Leese had told her, while Armie seemed gloomy and pushed himself too hard, their separation hadn’t interfered with his training. She wanted him to win the fight. She wanted the whole world to take note of Armie Jacobson, to see what she saw in him, to know what an amazing man he was.
But she also wanted their relationship to matter to him.
Selfish.
Before she brought any more drama to his life, Armie needed to get through the fight, settle the issues with his father, with Bray and put the rumors to rest. Only then could she push him to settle things with her.
Unfortunately, that all felt so far away.
What if months went by and nothing got sorted out?
What if, in fact, she was pregnant?
Despite Yvette’s encouragement, she hadn’t yet done the drugstore test. Truthfully, she was afraid to. If Armie didn’t care enough to fight for her, why should she think he’d fight for a baby? Then again, in her heart, she knew Armie would never turn his back on her or a child of his own. But damn it, she didn’t want him cornered. She wanted him to love her.
When her office landline rang, she almost welcomed the interruption to her dejected thoughts. She needed to focus on bank business, and only bank business.
Dredging up her professional voice, she said, “Thank you for calling Warfield Bank. This is Merissa speaking, how may I help you?”
“Merissa.”
She dropped her head back with a silent groan.
“Merissa?”
Swiveling her chair to the door, she asked, “What do you want, Steve?”
“To talk to you.” And then with accusation: “You’re avoiding me.”
Exactly! “If you know that, then why do you keep calling?”
He huffed out a breath. “I heard you and the rapist split up.”
Glad that he’d called the bank’s landline instead of her cell, Merissa slammed the phone down on him. That was something she couldn’t do with a cell. A simple click didn’t provide near the same level of satisfaction.
Of course he called right back.
Just in case it wasn’t him... “Thank you for calling—”
“It’s me, damn it. Don’t hang up.”
Sitting forward, she snapped, “You can bet I’ll hang up if you insult Armie again.”
“All right. Calm down.”
She didn’t want to be calm. For once she wished she was an MMA fighter because she’d love to beat the hell out of a heavy bag. A calming breath did nothing to help her regain her aplomb. “Without insults, what do you want, Steve?”
“You. I’ve always wanted you.”
“No you didn’t, and it’s not happening now.”
He growled. “Could we at least talk? Grab a coffee or something? For old time’s sake?”
Merissa didn’t want to, but she knew she was being surly and mean and it wasn’t like her. “Steve,” she complained, “there’d be no point.”
“It’d make me feel better. I worry about you.” He paused, then asked, “Are you and the fighter still together?”
Blast him for asking that. “It’s complicated.”
His chuckle grated down her spine. “That’s what women always say when they’re giving a guy too much leeway. He’s either with you, or he isn’t.”
Since she feared he might be right, she said, “Fine. When and where?”
“We can get together? Really?”
The pleasure in his tone didn’t fool her. Steve had never really cared about her. If he wanted her now, it was only to salve his bruised ego over her disinterest. If meeting with him now would accomplish that, if it would get him to accept the truth, then why not? “Coffee, that’s all, so don’t make a big deal of it.”
“Tomorrow after work? I could pick you up.”
No way. “I’ll meet you,” she said. “Where?”
After making arrangements, Merissa hung up and hurried through the rest of her work. She was determined to be out the door very soon. She wanted to get home, soak in the tub for, oh, an hour or so, and then make waffles for dinner.
Waffles usually helped everything.
Unfortunately, she knew she could eat a dozen waffles and it wouldn’t matter. It required Armie himself to mend her broken heart, and he was still avoiding her “for her own good.” Somehow she needed a way around his nobility.
She’d give him one week after his fight, and then she was going after him.
* * *
OUTSIDE THE BANK, on the opposite side of the street, Keno sucked on a chocolate milk shake and considered his plan. Boyd paced beside him, but Keno held still, only his thoughts churning as he went through the details over and over.
“This could backfire,” Boyd said.
The chicken shit. “It’s all arranged.”
“What if we get caught?”
“We won’t.” Finishing the shake with one last long draw, Keno tossed it into a trash can. “We’ll wait until she’s well away from here, on one of those older streets near her house. Then we’ll get her. Piece of cake.”
Boyd scrubbed both hands over his face. “Steve isn’t going to like it.”
“Steve’s a pussy. But he’ll pay.” Already they’d gotten good old Steve for thousands. The idiot had money to burn, an obsession with one tall, thin girl and an ego as big as his mouth. Keno saw no reason not to use the combination to his advantage.
Fretting like an old lady, Boyd asked, “What time is it?”
“We’ve got thirty minutes or so before she wraps it up. Should be dark enough by then.”
“She noticed us last time.”
“Last time, I wanted her to. Remember, Steve was hoping the truth about her dirtbag boyfriend would be enough to send her running—preferably to him. But that hasn’t happened.”
“Can’t say as I blame her. Steve is a douche.”
Keno couldn’t argue that. “This time she won’t have a clue we’re tailing her. Just be ready to go as soon as she walks out.” He smiled as he thought about it.
Finally Steve would get to be the hero, by paying to get her back.
And until then, Keno wouldn’t mind getting his hands on her again—this time without her hulk of a defender around to kick his ass.
* * *
KNOWING THAT JUSTICE, despite his messy faux-hawk hair and cauliflower ears, would charm Bray’s parents, Armie headed out for his truck. He had his keys in hand, the door open, when a familiar voice spoke behind him.
“It’s been a long time.”
He sucked in air so fast he almost strangled himself. Jerking around on high alert, he stared at the woman standing there. Her hair was darker, shorter. She’d put on a few pounds. But not in a million years would he ever forget her.
Lea Baley...all grown up.
Here.
In front of the gym where he trained.
Surprise gave way to anger, and Armie slammed the truck door hard enough to shake the entire vehicle.
He took one step forward, then stopped himself, unsure what he would—should—do.
Lea didn’t smile, but neither did she look afraid. “I suggest you let me explain before you lose your temper.”
“My temper shot to the moon the second you spoke.”
She nodded, then said, “It’s not me.”
That stymied him. “What’s not you?”
“Spreading the rumors. Stirring up old news that, honestly, leaves me ashamed. Probably more than you, I’d like to forget it ever happened.”
Armie sucked in a longer, slower breath. “This is so fucked-up.”
Now she gave a slight smile. “I had planned on never seeing you again.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Would’ve suited me just fine.”
“I know. Just as I know you have to hate me.” She shifted, rearranged her purse strap, locked her hands together. “This is awkward. We both know I lied back then. I was young and dumb and you ignored me and I lashed out. I did the unthinkable. It was an awful thing to do. I wish I could redo the past, but we don’t have that luxury.”
Armie crossed his arms and visually dissected her. She sounded sincere enough, but hell if he’d ever trust her.
Holding out her hand, knuckles up, Lea said, “I’m married now.”
After glancing at the moderate diamond on her ring finger, he asked, “Does the lucky bastard know what a conniving liar you are?”
She rolled in her lips, looked down, then again met his gaze. “Yes, I told him all about you.”
“Bullshit.”
She continued as if he didn’t repeatedly insult her. “We have two daughters. They’re two and four and I pray I’m a better, more responsible mother than I was a daughter.” After tucking her hair behind her ear, she came to stand by him, then leaned on his truck. Voice lower, softer, she said, “Back then, I didn’t see a way out.”
“You could have told the truth.”
“Yes. But after my dad believed the story and ran with it, then your dad agreed and...” She shrugged. “It’s not an excuse, Armie, and it’s still unforgivable. But I felt stuck with my own story. One of us was going to be shamed and I was just plain too cowardly to let it be me.”
Well, hell. It took a lot of guts to make that admission.
“I called you once, years ago.”
“I laughed and hung up on you.” Without hearing why she’d contacted him.
“I remember. And I didn’t blame you.” Her shoulder bumped his. “It doesn’t matter now, but I’d called to apologize.”
Armie had no idea what to say. Never, not once, had he ever figured on this exact scenario. In his mind, Lea would always be the same spoiled, hateful kid he’d known back then.
But he supposed a decade could change a person. “Fine, you’re all contrite and shit. Like you said, it doesn’t matter now, so why are you here?”
“Because I’ve lived my whole life knowing the awfulness of what I’d done to you.” She looked up at him. “It was a lot to bear and I didn’t think I’d ever be able to redeem myself. But now, finally, I can do something to help. I know it won’t change the past, but maybe it’ll change the present and that has to count for something.”
“Instead of the philosophical speech, why don’t you get to the point?”
“All right.” She stared up at him. “A man came to see me. He said he knew you were a rapist and he wanted the details.”
Fucking reporters. “I bet your dad loved that.”
“Dad died two years ago. It’s just me now.”
Damn it. He wouldn’t tell her he was sorry. Her dad had made his life hell.
“I didn’t understand who the guy was. But he seemed gleeful about the possibility of you being a rapist. Even after I told him he was wrong, that...” She swallowed hard. “That I’d lied. He kept insisting. So after he left I looked you up. For years I’ve tried not to think about you, about what I’d done.”
“Ditto.” He’d blocked Lea and the accusations the best he could—but they’d never really been far from his thoughts.
How did a man shake off the charge of rapist?
She bumped her shoulder to his again. “It’s not much, but I can tell you about him. The man who came to see me, I mean. I know he thought himself anonymous, believing the lie and assuming I’d shore it up for him. He wasn’t pleased when I refused. When he finally left, I watched him and got the make of his car and his license plate number. And I can describe him to you.”
Excitement sparked down deep inside Armie, chasing off some of the bleak acceptance. Maybe he could still work this out.
Maybe he could get Merissa back.
He checked his watch, realized he’d miss Merissa leaving work and decided he’d just meet up with her at her house. “Got time for a ride?”
“To where?”
“There’s a lady I need to check on—and since she’s been threatened by supposed reporters looking for the nitty-gritty on my past, it’d be nice if I could share some good news with her.”
She studied his face and agreed. “All right. I owe you at least that much.”
“If we get the people threatening her, I promise, we’ll call it even.”
For only a second, grateful tears turned Lea’s eyes liquid. But she blinked, smiled and headed for the passenger side of his truck. “You always were one of the good guys.”
* * *
MERISSA DROVE SLOWLY through the old neighborhood. Each day it seemed to stay light longer. Spring would soon turn to summer. She exhaled, looking forward to more sunshine and milder weather.
Would she get to spend the summer with Armie?
Would she be noticeably pregnant?
Lost in thought, it seemed doubly startling when headlights suddenly flashed on behind her.
Close. Far, far too close.
With the memory of the last car that had trailed her, she blindly reached for her phone. She’d call her brother and—
The car rammed her, startling her so badly that she gave a short scream. The phone fell from her hand and slid off the seat to the floor. Squeezing the wheel, she frantically struggled to stay on the road. When she got rammed again, this time on the back right fender, her car jerked to the left, smashed into the curb and when she tried to correct it, she overshot to the other side of the road. She was still trying to correct her steering when the car shot around her, cut her off and stopped. Instinctively she slammed on her brakes to keep from colliding. Rubber burned and she came within inches of ramming into the other car.
Too fast for her to catch her breath, a man approached and jerked open her car door. She tried to scream but a hand clamped hard over her mouth, making her jaw ache.
He leaned in close until his hot breath washed over her face. In clear warning, he whispered, “Don’t.”
Oh my God. She knew the cold blue eyes staring into hers, the rough voice and the cruel attitude.
This was the man from the bank robbery.
Sheer terror narrowed her view until all she could see was his anticipatory smile. Blind with fear, Merissa struggled, striking out at him, clawing.
He released her mouth and backhanded her hard enough to nearly topple her in the seat. Dazed, she tasted her own blood as blackness closed in. Rough hands opened her seat belt and yanked her out. Her head still reeling, she half fell to the ground. The hands on her tightened, wrenching one arm as he dragged her across the rough pavement of the road toward the other idling car.
Merissa tried to get her feet under her but couldn’t. She started to scream, but he knotted a hand in her hair and cursed as he shoved her forward.
No! No, no, no.
“Fuckers,” she heard, and her mind reeled at the recognizable voice.
“Leese,” she whispered, and as the flicker of hope gained life, she said again, louder, “Leese!”
The man shoved her from him. She collided with the front of his car, then fell to the hard, gravel-strewn ground. Her elbow cracked on something, and she felt a searing burn on her cheek, but neither injury mattered. Numbness sank in, mingling with the awful shock.
She got her head up in time to see Leese attacking the man. How he was here, she didn’t know, but he threw hard, direct punches, demolishing the guy who’d grabbed her. When a second man got out of the car she scrambled toward her open door and dubious safety.
The sounds of curses and grunts, of flesh hitting flesh, assaulted her brain.
She needed to help Leese, but how?
Thanks to Cannon’s insistence, she had pepper spray in her purse, but both it and her phone had been dumped to the floor.
Inside her car she hit the locks with shaking hands, then quickly looked through the windshield. In the chaos, with her heartbeat thundering in her ears, it was hard to tell what was happening. Leese fought hard, but just as Armie had done, he took on both men.
Knowing she had to do something, Merissa laid on the horn. The noise was deafening, but she didn’t let up.
Soon the glow of nearby porch lights flickered on, two houses, then three, four, five.
Over and over, Merissa blared the horn until most of the street was awake and watching.
“I called the police,” someone yelled from a house. “They’re on their way!”
Leese, proving to be a maniac, held on to one man when he tried to flee. He jerked him around at the same time he threw his knee up, sending the guy back and into the side of the car. The bloodied man scrambled for the handle, screaming, “Go, go, go,” to his cohort.
The driver gunned it, hit the curb, almost struck another car and sped away. Leese stared after them and Merissa, horrified by the idea of being alone, threw open her door and stumbled out. “Leese!” She knew she sounded pathetic and panicked—because she was. “Leese, please!”
In the middle of the street, chest heaving, blood on his face and his hands still balled into fists, Leese turned to see her.
Merissa shook so badly she couldn’t stay upright and as her knees gave out, she slumped to sit on the curb just outside her car.
Oh God. She rocked, holding herself tight, watching as Leese started toward her.
He looked like walking fury, but after he crouched in front of her his expression changed. His hands were gentle as he tipped up her face, winced and smoothed her hair.
“Damn, honey, are you okay?” He stripped off his hoodie, then his T-shirt.
Merissa didn’t understand. He’d never called her an endearment before—and why was he undressing? But even more important than that... “How are you here?”
Carefully, he used his T-shirt to clean her face. “I was following you.” Chidingly, he whispered, “You should have known both Armie and Cannon would ensure you weren’t alone.”
“I’m so glad.” She flinched as he touched a particularly tender spot. She wanted to say more, to ask him what he was doing to her, but all that came out was an awful choking sound. Shamed, she threw herself against him. Warm, strong.
Safe.
His hard arms tightened carefully around her. “I hear police sirens. I need to call them—Armie and Cannon, I mean—before things get any crazier.”
She nodded. Damn it, she wanted them both...but she couldn’t get herself to release Leese. Relief battled against the surge of adrenaline and emotions bubbled up. She tried to hold back the tide, but it broke free and she started sobbing uncontrollably.
Somehow Leese managed to sit and lift her into his lap. “It’s okay. I’ve got you now.”
Nodding, she burrowed close again. Her arm started thumping and her face burned, but it didn’t matter. Leese was protection. She’d be safe now. If not for him, those men would have had her—and then what?
From behind Leese, an elderly man spoke. “She okay?”
Leese carefully tucked her close to his chest and half turned to the man. “You called the cops?”
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“Thank you.”
“Can I get either of you anything?”
“A blanket?”
The man nodded and hurried away.
Merissa knew she soaked Leese’s shoulder, but she couldn’t stem the tears.
He bent to her ear. “Shh, now. The police will think I’m hurting you.”
“I’m so sorry.”
He rubbed the middle of her back. “Take a breath,” he suggested gently.
The man returned with a blanket and Leese draped it around her.
“You’re the one who’s naked,” she whispered.
“Don’t go starting rumors, Rissy. I only took off my shirt. Now, another breath.”
Nodding, she inhaled shakily, then again. As the red-and-blue lights of cop cars flashed around the area, she looked up at Leese. “Don’t leave me.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Cops descended on them and an ambulance pulled up. Merissa assumed it was for Leese—until they reached her.
Well, hell. She suddenly discovered that she was in worse shape than she thought.
* * *
ARMIE COULDN’T BELIEVE what Lea told him.
Yeah, he recognized the description: Steve. When he got his hands on that miserable fuck, he’d—
His phone rang, but not with the normal ringtone. It was the emergency ring, the one that meant something was wrong, the ringtone that Vanity called the “Bat signal.” All of the guys worked together to help in an emergency. He’d had these calls before, knew it could mean almost anything, but tonight it sent ice through his veins.
“Wait,” he told Lea, interrupting her story to grab up his cell. Caller ID showed it was Cannon. He answered with, “What’s wrong?”
“Where are you?”
That only alarmed him more. “Driving toward Merissa’s house.”
“Pull over.”
His guts twisted. “Cannon—”
“Pull over, damn it!”
He glanced in the rearview mirror, cut to the right and stopped at the curb. Chest tight, he said, “I’ve stopped.”
“She’s okay,” Cannon said first, “but Rissy got jumped. Leese was following her and he got to her before they could get her into their car.”
Armie tried to speak, but no words came out. Leese got to her before they could get her into their car. He breathed too fast and his vision narrowed. In a rasp, he asked, “Where is she?”
“I know that tone, damn it. Get it together.”
“Where is she?” His heart punched so hard it hurt him, deep inside hurt.
Cannon went quiet, then whispered, “Remember, she is okay—but an ambulance took her to the hospital. I’m here with her now. I’d have called sooner, but it was a little chaotic at first.”
Ambulance. Hospital.
Someone made a grab for Rissy.
And now he knew Steve was involved.
Putting his truck back in gear, Armie said, “I’m on my way.”