Whoever had decided ten o’clock at night was a decent hour to ring my doorbell might get their face eaten. I stomped through the apartment, cursing the boys in blue for not using the phone or telling me whatever was so important when I’d been at the station earlier. A cop was the only person who would have used the front entrance and gotten into the apartment complex without the gate buzzer. So I didn’t bother straightening my hair or pajamas before wrenching open my door.
Nick leaned against the frame. For once he wasn’t smirking. The grim expression combined with his turning up at my apartment and what I’d done at the police station earlier had me tongue-tied. Was I in danger?
No…if he’d meant me harm, he’d have come to the sliding glass door. Still, the pinch between his eyes didn’t suggest a happy expression.
“Shelby,” he said. “Let me in.”
Against all reason, I let the admitted killer into my apartment.
He stalked into the kitchen, swiveling around to look in each corner and in the laundry closet before heading to the linen closet, and then my bedroom.
I followed, feeling sicker by the second as I came to a stop beside my bed. “I’m sorry, Nick. I couldn’t lie when they showed me your picture.”
He poked his head out of the closet to look at me. “Huh?”
“I…I assumed you came because you were pissed the police know who you are now.” My hand smacked over my mouth. “Shit,” I said around it. “You didn’t know, did you?”
He snorted and resumed whatever he’d been doing in my closet, moving hangers this way and that. Nick swept out a moment later and stomped into my bathroom.
I trailed, keeping an eye on him.
He shifted the shower curtain as he’d done yesterday, the hooks protesting the movement.
I let my hand fall, stunned that he’d just done a search of my apartment for someone hiding. Why?
Nick stopped inside the bathroom door, facing me. “I went to the station earlier and told them I’d seen the sketch on TV and had come for questioning.”
My jaw fell open. “You did?”
He regarded me silently, making me feel like an idiot.
“What did you tell them happened to their car door?”
He gave me a toothy grin. “Adrenaline.”
“And the gunman?”
Nick scrubbed a hand through his hair. “I said I might have seen a wild animal in the woods and that I’d heard the guy scream, but that it was dark and I was drunk. I claimed I ran because I was scared of the animal.”
Conscious of the fact he was the animal and that he stood basically in my bedroom, mere feet away, I could only stare.
“I also didn’t want you to have to lie to the cops any longer,” he said.
The sweetness of those words had my face going warm. “Thank you.” A nervous laugh burst out of me. “The cop on duty the other night might ruin that.”
“Nah,” Nick said, “white boys can’t tell the difference between one Asian and the next.”
“So,” I glanced around, trying for nonchalance, “what brings you by tonight?”
“The cops haven’t figured out the link to the crime boss. I couldn’t share that without admitting I’d been doing some investigation of my own. I’m hoping now that I’ve identified the gunman, they’ll work out that angle and you’ll be safer.” Nick leaned against the doorframe much as he had out front. “Until then, the only way I can be sure you’re safe is to camp out here.”
I felt my eyes widen before I could stop them.
One corner of his mouth twisted. “I can go back outside if you’d rather.”
Did I? Well, yes, honestly. But I was also certain I’d feel guilty and invite him back inside after an hour or two.
“No, it’s okay,” I said.
“I haven’t had any beer today, if that helps.”
Forcing a smile, I said, “Thanks.”
Nick glanced to the bedroom door. “You weren’t watching TV? Did I wake you?”
I cast a guilty look at my bedside table and the e-reader there. “No. I was awake.” And reading a sexy book about werebears. What would he say to that?
He shifted on both feet. “Do you mind if I crash? I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Oh, of course.” I gestured at the living room. “The blankets and stuff are on the sofa.”
He went out and returned with the stack. I had a pillow waiting for him. Nick nodded his head in gratitude and crouched to make up his little spot on the floor. Fifteen minutes later he was snoring, and I was trying to get some sleep of my own.
What he’d done today—turning himself into the cops—had been seriously brave. Given the gravity of the murders, it was amazing Davis had let him leave. But Nick claiming he’d done it partially for me was the most shocking part of all. And his continued protection made me feel warmer and fuzzier than a teddy bear.
Fitting considering the size of this bear.
Phone duty at lunch sucked. Especially when the big boss kept calling, looking for someone else. And when he was in a mood. But he was always in a mood. Freaking billionaires.
I pasted on my smile as I saw his number light up on the phone’s read out a third time. He’d hear it if I wasn’t smiling, and then he’d bitch to my boss Joseph.
Grabbing the receiver, I answered the phone, recited the company line, and then waited for him to ask for his son—who hadn’t been here the last two times he’d called.
“Transfer me to Raymond,” billionaire bastard said. Again.
Smiling harder, I said, “I’m sorry, sir, Raymond is out of the office.”
He sighed, long, loud as if I’d personally sent his son on an errand and insisted it be to Africa. “Then let me talk to Joseph.”
“Joseph is unfortunately out of the office, too.”
“Then give me to Linda.”
Wincing, I said, “She’s gone, as well. I’m sorry. Is there anything I can help with?”
“No.” The barked word made me want to reach through the phone and smash his nearly bald head against the nearest hard surface.
“I’ll let them know you called, sir.”
He grunted. I leaned toward the phone, ready to set down the handset. He pulled in a breath as if to speak. Inwardly sighing, I waited for him to ask for someone else. Maybe Greg. Hah, as if Greg could help.
“Someone will be visiting Raymond later,” he said. “Linda needs to cut the visitor a check for his campaign. But you can make sure there are refreshments available for them.”
I clamped my lips to cover the sound of grinding teeth. My job title was accountant and yet most of the staff treated me like a goddamn receptionist and secretary. I shouldn’t have been ticked off the billionaire head-of-the-company didn’t think any differently, but I was.
“Sure.” Somehow my reply managed to sound civil instead of homicidal.
“He likes champagne.”
Of course he did. And I knew absolutely nothing about the stuff. “I’ll make sure we have some on hand, sir.”
He hung up without so much as a thanks. I glared at the flashing read out and smacked the phone onto its cradle. Jerk wad billionaires and their yes-man sons. If I didn’t make good money here, I’d have called him back and told him off.
The elevator dinged. I glanced up, ready to tell whoever had returned that our big boss was on a rampage. The doors spread, revealing a dark-haired man in a pin-stripe suit and glossy wingtip shoes. One glance at his handsome face told me he wasn’t one of the usual suspects. From my distance I put him somewhere between forty and forty-five years old, or a really well-aged fifty. Though handsome, he carried himself with the same arrogance as billionaire bastard. I’d just bet his suit was bespoke and the wingtips handmade.
His lips spread, and he gave me a blinding smile as he strode out, hand at the ready to shake. “You must be Linda. I’m Eugene.”
I made myself stand to greet him even though his voice alone screamed oily. “I’m Shelby.” I smiled though I wanted to cringe at the pungent cologne cloud that slammed into my nostrils. The dude smelled as though he slept in a centuries old barbershop. “I’m sorry, but Linda is out of the office for a little bit longer.” Damn them all for leaving me like this. “If you’d follow me, I’ll show you to the lounge. Would you like something to drink while you wait?”
If this was the visitor billionaire bastard warned of, I’d be in trouble because we didn’t have any champagne. Not that I’d had much time to buy anything between hanging up the phone and the elevator spitting him out. Even if there’d been more than a few minutes, I couldn’t have left the office empty. Not when the billionaire would likely call at least twice more before anyone else returned.
Eugene closed the distance and pinned me with a smile brighter than Texas A&M’s Kyle Field flood lights. “I just came from a meeting. They filled me up with coffee and pastries. I couldn’t drink another drop.”
“Then I won’t offer you snacks either.” I gestured for him to follow me to the back of the office.
“I’d refuse pastries.” He trailed far too close behind me, his barbershoppy scent already threatening to cling to my blouse. “But I wouldn’t mind nibbling something else.”
Why had that sounded like an innuendo?
I didn’t glance back as I opened the door to the lounge. “Sure. What can I get for you?” I flipped on the light while edging aside and waiting for him to enter. “I know there are some muffins, cupcakes, brie and crackers—”
“I like sweet things.” Eugene filled the doorway and grinned. “And you look sweet.”
That had been an innuendo. I barely kept from sputtering in indignation. I let my smile go a little crazy. “I’m not usually accused of that.”
He chuckled, reaching for me. “All the better.”
Scampering back, I barely withheld a scream. “Have a seat, sir. I’ll let them know you’re here as soon as they return.”
Eugene pretended to pout. “Did I offend you? I didn’t mean to.” He caught my arm before I could dodge him. “Let me make it up to you. Dinner?”
I’d opened my mouth to reply, but ended up biting down on a curse. “I’m flattered.” I took a step back, hoping he’d get the idea that I wanted to leave. Instead he clutched my wrist tighter and followed up with a graze of his finger down my thumb. Still smiling, I said, “But I don’t go to dinner with the boss’s clients.”
“I’m not a client.” Eugene chuckled—a low sound that felt as if it clawed down my back. “I’m your next mayor.”
I nearly choked. The elevator dinged, saving me from having to come up with a reply to that bombshell. Eugene’s eyes went dark and squinty.
Raymond strode in, bushy head obvious behind the oily politician. “Is that you, Eugene?”
Eugene stared at me, dark eyes forceful and glinting past the edge of frightening. My legs flexed as I readied to run if needed. I tried to hide my shallow breathing and keep my arm from visibly shaking.
He released me and whirled to face Raymond. “Yes! I’m afraid I’m early. How are you, Raymond?”
The bright voice he’d used told me he’d adopted another floodlight-level smile. His quick switch from flirtatious, to frightening, and back to friendly made me seriously uneasy. And that look he’d given me? Scary. Not only was the guy a would-be mayor, but he was also dangerous. God help Dallas.
Raymond appeared at the door, and Eugene shuffled into me.
The would-be mayor murmured an apology that didn’t match the feral look in his eye as he tracked my progress out of the room. His voice echoed in a different direction and somehow brightened. “Thank you for taking the time—”
The door closed, dampening the conversation. I breathed in relief as I hurried to my desk. Now I just had to get out of the building before their meeting finished and remain out until the coast was clear. I dropped into my chair and picked up a pen, establishing an impatient rhythm that would last until someone relieved me.
Any second now.
The yawning gorgeous guy leaning against the garage wall at five after five had me half stumbling into my car. I caught my palm on the roof, and then stared at him. Hands covered in red and jeans splattered with something rust-colored, Nick might have just left the scene of another murder.
He followed my gaze, grinning as he lifted his stained palms. “Paint.”
“Uh huh.” I eyed the color speculatively.
“Honest.” He pushed off the wall. “I’m hungry. Wanna grab dinner? Something bloody.”
I glanced at his jeans again, thinking he’d already had something bloody.
Nick strode for my passenger door and lifted the handle twice. “It’s dry. Won’t stain.”
I sighed and hit the unlock button on my key fob. He slid into the seat and was pulling on his safety belt by the time I got in. Did werebears even need safety belts?
He waited until I’d pulled up to the exit before pointing across my line of sight. “Go that way. There’s a good Korean barbecue over there.”
“Do they do bloody?”
He made an airy sound that might have been a laugh. “They can certainly make it feel like it is.”
What did that mean? I glanced at him, but decided against asking.
Pulling out into the darkness of early November, I let Nick give the directions. Twice I let his presence distract me and I missed stop signs, nearly getting us hit. He merely cast me smirks. Perhaps guys who could turn into bears didn’t much worry about silly things like car wrecks.
Ten minutes later we pulled into a strip mall featuring a giant shoe store beside an Asian buffet and comic book shop. Nick popped out and strode for the buffet’s door. By the time I’d reached the interior, he was deep in conversation with the sharp-eyed lady behind the cash register. Whatever language they spoke was rapid and completely foreign—most definitely not Spanish.
The short lady’s dark hair was pulled into a stark bun, not a hair out of place. She wore the black, mandarin-collared top the other servers wandering around sported, though hers lacked floral touches. Her steely gaze fixed on me, narrowing as her voice’s pitch went up, volume lifted, and pace blistered. Nick did a credible job of out-talking her. She focused on him, verbally going up one side of him and down the other.
In the end he glared and switched to English. “I’m taking my usual table.”
The lady tossed up one hand, spitting out a word as Nick passed. I wanted to follow him, but that meant walking in front of the woman who had switched her eagle-eyed attention to me. She muttered a single caustic word. Nick pivoted back, pinning her with a glare so dark I pulled into myself to get away. The woman turned, perhaps feeling it. She lifted her chin and stared him down. I took the opening to slip behind her even though I seriously considered leaving instead. But the place smelled good, and I was hungry.
Nick stomped forward and caught my wrist, tugging me along. The woman remained silent though I felt her watching. He stopped at a table tucked in the back corner that had a good view of the sizzling iron grill. Two sides of the table featured booth seats while the outer two held wooden chairs. Nick pulled one of them out and gave me an expectant look. I let him seat me as if he were a true gentleman and I a lady.
He dropped into the spot against the wall. Tapping a fork against his folded napkin, he spoke at a low volume. “My aunt.”
I watched him, wanting to nod, but thinking if I did he’d leave the explanation at that. If I could work it, I wanted to know what they’d argued about.
“She’s not happy I brought you with me.” He grabbed the salt shaker, twirling the glass container as if it were a dance partner in a sultry tango.
I waited several beats, again hoping he’d share more. “Is she…” What he was?
He lifted his gaze to mine, his brows rising. “Korean?”
I released a shaky laugh. His continued stare had my amusement fading. “Um, no,” I said.
Nick set the salt shaker aside. “No. She’s not like that.”
The intimidating lady from the front, Nick’s aunt, appeared with a glass of fizzy lime green liquid in one hand and one filled with ice water in the other. She set what must be Mountain Dew in front of Nick and the water in front of me.
She pulled out an order pad. “What do you want?” she asked without looking at me.
“Water is fine.” I didn’t have the guts to ask her to do more work.
She ripped off the top sheet and slapped it onto the table top. A few syllables came out of her mouth before she was off.
Nick rolled his eyes. “She said she’s calling my mother.”
“If she’s not like…that…then why is she unhappy you brought me?”
He took a long draw off his drink, and then stood. “Because you’re Caucasian.”
My mouth fell open. Fortunately, he’d headed for the sizzling grill before he’d seen my reaction.
His aunt wouldn’t care about my race if Nick had told her we were just acquaintances. Their argument had gone on for quite some time, and then the threat to call his mother, why hadn’t he set the record straight?
Pushing my Caucasian hair behind my ear, I scanned the restaurant. Several buffet bars held all manner of dishes, but Nick had gone straight to the bar filled with raw items. He loaded up a plate with glistening red meat and a few cold vegetables. Handing them to the yawning chef on the other side of the splatter shield, he said something I couldn’t make out.
The chef dropped the contents onto the grill and squirted some liquid into the pile. Seconds later he scooped up the meat but left the vegetables. Nick watched the guy crisscross his knife and spatula beneath the steaming concoction, and I watched Nick. That careless hair, those perfect features, God, he was really, really hot.
Minutes later Nick returned to the table with his meal. Blood seeped beneath a mound of fried rice from the gleaming red strips of steak that had only received the barest hint of heat. I screwed up my nose.
Nick gave me a toothy grin, spearing a piece of basically raw meat and lifting it. “Hungry?”
My stomach did a triple lutz. “I’ll find something that’s actually cooked.”
His laughter followed me to the first of the buffet bars. An Asian gal dressed in the black flowered top the staff wore wandered to Nick’s table. He chatted with her while chewing. They laughed and smiled in a disturbingly cute fashion. I hovered near the fruit section to keep from interrupting them. They carried on, clearly comfortable with one another. Each new laugh made me feel more out of place than the last.
My stomach growled from the mingled scents begging to be tasted. I hadn’t eaten in six hours and my body reminded me. I gave up on giving him time with her and returned to the table. The girl who was pretty and delicate in both face and body gave me a twisted look of pure distaste before leaving without a word.
Nick huffed in a laugh and shoveled a large forkful of rice into his mouth. I picked up a crab rangoon and told myself not to ask.
“My cousin,” he said as if I had. “And no, she’s not either. I’m the only one afflicted.”
So his kind wasn’t born this way?
Nick grinned. “I can almost read your mind just from your expressions.”
I sat back and gave him a long look.
He wiped his mouth with the corner of his paper napkin. “I wasn’t born this way.”
Startled he had read my mind from my face, I could only stare. What if…
“No, I can’t really read your mind,” he said.
“I don’t know if I believe that.”
His smirk returned and without the need for beer. “Good thing, too, considering some of the things you’ve been thinking about me.”
My face went hot, no doubt bright red, and he chortled loud enough to earn his aunt’s glare across the restaurant.
“Yes,” I said in what I hoped was a low drawl. “All those times I’d visualized beating you with my dresser.”
His irises flicked up as if there were pictures on the ceiling. “I almost want to see that.”
“I’m not that strong.”
“You could be.” Nick froze, muscles in his neck tightening into thick cords.
He dropped his fork. Getting to his feet, Nick left me in the company of family who didn’t want me there. He disappeared into a back corridor labeled with a sign for restrooms.
I tried to eat though my appetite had waned after my first few bites. What did he mean that I could be that strong? And why had he gotten upset after saying it?
Whatever the answers, I had to remember Nick had killed someone. He’d killed, he turned into a wild animal, and his family didn’t like Caucasians. Those were three very compelling reasons to leave him here. So I had no idea why I went up to the sizzling grill and had them make me my own bit of meat.
Nick had a few choice words for his screaming aunt on the way out of the restaurant before any mothers appeared. I had no idea what they meant apart from the aunt obviously not liking me. He needed to assure them he and I weren’t a thing. I opened my mouth to say something to that effect, but he put a hand at the small of my back, ushering me out and scrambling my brain at the warm intimacy of the act.
I really shouldn’t like it when he touched me.
“We need a movie or something to entertain us,” he said once I started the car. “There’s a movie rental kiosk at the gas station over there. I’ll pick one and you pick one.”
My fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “You don’t need to come over again.” I gestured at the vehicle a few spots away that had just flipped on its headlights. “I still have a plain clothes officer following me.”
Nick made a sound of derision. “All that officer can do is call in for help long after the crime boss and his many cronies have broken into your apartment. You need someone who can actually do something.”
I didn’t make the mistake of asking exactly what Nick would do to help. Instead I pulled in a small sigh, and then drove to the kiosk across the street. Nick popped out, already lifting his wallet from his back pocket.
I rushed forward and did the same. “I’ll buy. You paid for dinner.”
And that is probably the reason his aunt screamed.
Ignoring me, Nick swiped his card. He tapped through the screens and read the descriptions for a few movies. I hovered, feeling too visible.
He gestured at something in the distance. “How did you like the Korean barbecue?”
I followed his finger and thought I saw a dark head at the window. Was the scary lady staring at us? Maybe I needed police protection from her. “I think it would have been better if your aunt weren’t there.”
Nick laughed. “She’s not so bad.”
The machine spat out a DVD. I frowned because I hadn’t seen what he’d picked.
“Your turn.” Nick stepped aside, pushing the DVD behind him.
“What did you get?”
He shrugged. “I doubt you’ll pick it.”
I knitted my eyebrows. No doubt I’d be forced to watch something bloody. That meant I needed to offset it with something fun. I flipped through the digital screens until I came to a kids’ movie featuring Legos. That would do.
Nick made a sound behind me that might have been a snort or a laugh. I pinned him with a look, daring him to comment. He held up his palms and backed toward the car. Movie in hand, I followed him.
“I could use some beer.” He strode across the sidewalk and into the gas station.
I sighed, but followed. He scanned the offerings in each cold case, lifting out one six pack of Heineken and another of Angry Orchard. Only after he’d handed over a twenty-dollar bill for the two six packs did I realize Nick having beer would bring out the colossal asshole. Maybe I could have a beer or two and let loose my inner colossal bitch to match him. Then again, one of us had to remain sober if mafia guys were on the prowl.
Nick put a six pack under one arm and held the other, waiting for me to leave the store. I cast a last lingering look at the candy aisle, wishing I’d had the guts to get ice cream before we’d left his aunt’s place.
He made for my passenger door.
I flapped my arms, rushing to block the handle. “Not in there. Put it in the trunk. I don’t want cops thinking we have open containers or anything if we get pulled over.”
“A cop is right there watching us.” Nick rolled his eyes and followed me to the trunk.
I popped it, standing back so he could drop in his prizes.
Nick lowered the first set of beers, and then stopped. “What in the hell is that?”
“A trunk?”
“Inside the trunk.” His head lowered as if getting a better look. “Shelby, what the hell is this green thing? It smells like death.”
My stomach graduated from triple lutz to axel jump. Shit, shit, shit. I’d completely forgotten about the thing in my trunk. “Um…”
Nick reached in.
I grabbed his forearm to keep him from actually touching it. “It’s a body bag.”
He all but yelped. “A what?”
I opened my mouth.
“Why the fuck do you have a body bag in your trunk?” Nick squatted and put his beer on the ground. He sniffed, and then jerked upright. “And why does it smell like death? A used body bag?”
“Shhh.” I waved my hands uselessly. “The cop is going to hear.”
Nick folded his arms across his chest, leveling me with something akin to a storm cloud. “Explain.”
I snorted and kicked out one hip. “I don’t have—”
“Explain, Shelby.”
His hard tone and harder expression had me spitting out the answer. “I used to know a guy who worked at a funeral home.” My face went hotter by the moment.
“And?”
“And one day he gave me that. I didn’t know it was used. That’s gross.”
Nick gave me an appraising look. “He just…gave you a body bag in lime green for no reason.”
“Yeah.” I shrugged. “He knew I liked weird stuff.”
“More like he wanted to fuck you.” Nick swiveled away, grabbing his beer so he could drop it on top of the offending body bag.
“He was married,” I said.
“You think that keeps a guy from trying?” He closed the trunk, and stalked to the passenger door.
Well, I had thought so. Now I didn’t know.
What I wanted to know even more was why Nick seemed…jealous.
I took my spot behind the steering wheel and started the car.
“Why did you keep it?” Nick sounded almost angry.
I didn’t let myself look at him because I was afraid of what I’d see. “At first I liked having it just because it was so out there.” I gestured toward the windshield. “But then I had no idea how to get rid of a body bag. I didn’t want anyone to see me tossing it in the trash and wonder why I had it.”
“Leaving it in your trunk for a cop to find if he stops you and demands a search is better?”
“I don’t know,” I snapped.
“You need to throw it out.”
“I will,” I said.
Some day .