Chapter Twenty-Three
SHELLY MET LUKE when she was a call girl. He was a cop. It wasn’t love at first sight, but it was definitely desire. They’d circled each other for a long time, Luke pursuing Shelly and Shelly working as his informant. In the end he helped her escape the life. And she helped him reclaim his.
She’d been raised in a life of luxury with a very dark underside. There was no one who deserved a strong, patient man more than her. After some of the things I had seen, I could definitely appreciate the appeal of a cop, a good man—the security of it. The safety.
Only he didn’t look very safe now, leaning against the porch rail of their ranch-style house. He looked dangerous, like he had already been crossed and he was waiting to return fire. Something about his stance told me that he was armed too.
Philip stowed his gun in a side compartment and moved to exit the vehicle.
I had been to this house before, had visited Shelly under very different circumstances. And this was all wrong. Terrifying, in the way that guns and violence always felt. But even more wrong because I knew from the way Shelly still spoke about him that she cared.
I stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Wait.”
She cared, and she’d never have betrayed him.
He turned back, one eyebrow raised.
I looked again at Luke—who had clearly been warned of our arrival. Who was clearly prepared to defend his home. I didn’t think he wanted to shoot Philip, but I knew he’d do anything to protect Shelly. The thought of Philip approaching him without a weapon, without his men, completely defenseless—and at my request—made my stomach clench.
At the same time, I couldn’t ask him to bring it. I couldn’t handle the thought of him shooting Luke or Shelly. I wanted everyone to walk away from this.
Philip must have read my worry in the silence. He laughed softly. “Do you think so little of me, kitten? You think a cop is going to get the jump on me.”
“Luke is a good cop,” I said defensively.
A small smile. “That’s how I’d beat him. Disarm. Detain. Killing only as a last resort. That’s what good cops do.”
I bit my lip. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
And I knew he understood the unspoken plea—I don’t want you to hurt anyone, either.
He placed a hand on the crux of my shoulder and neck, both possessive and comforting. His dark gaze captured mine. “I wasn’t going to wave a gun around, kitten. That’s not how I operate.”
Don’t ask, don’t ask. “How do you operate?”
Damn it.
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I don’t pull out a gun unless I’m about to shoot someone.”
“Then why bring it?”
“Insurance. I told myself a long time ago that no man would have control over me.”
Again. The word hung in the air. That no man would have control over him again.
I wasn’t the only one wearing the chains of my past.
I looked out the window at Luke, who watched us with patience and steady determination. He was a good man, a strong one—but he could not touch Philip, for exactly the reason Philip had said. Because he was too noble to fight dirty, and because Philip didn’t know any other way to fight.
“He won’t have control over you,” I said.
“No,” Philip murmured. “But you do. I wonder what you’ll do with it.”
Then he was gone, leaving me staring after him. I scrambled to follow him out of the car, glancing at Adrian, who held the door open.
Adrian gave me a small smile of encouragement, but I could see the tension in his expression. He was worried too. An external threat, Philip could handle. This was something invisible and much closer, shadows slipping between us before we could blink.
I caught up to Philip in time to hear him say, “Good evening.”
Luke simply studied him—and then looked me over. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.
Okay wasn’t exactly the word I’d use, but Philip wasn’t hurting me. That was what Luke was really asking. “I’m fine.”
“Where’s Shelly?” Philip asked, undeterred.
“Inside,” Luke answered. “It’s locked. She’s armed. And she isn’t opening the door until I tell her to.”
Philip frowned. “Someone told you we were coming.”
“You aren’t the only one with friends in low places.”
“I don’t have friends. I have money. It gets the job done quicker.”
Luke shook his head. “And that’s where you’re wrong. You have a friend in Shelly, though hell if I know why. She didn’t tell a damn soul about you.”
“Not even you?” Philip asked, raising one eyebrow.
“You’re wasting your time here.”
Philip spread his arms wide. “I didn’t come here to hurt her. I’m not armed. You can pat me down if you like.”
“Not even a knife strapped to your ankle,” Luke asked, raising an eyebrow back at him.
That earned him a laugh. “Okay, so I didn’t strip down completely either. The point is, someone talked. It’s reasonable to see if Shelly may have let something slip—”
The door opened behind Luke, and Shelly stepped onto the porch wearing a tank top and yoga pants. Even now, with her hair loose and no makeup, she looked more glamorous than I could ever hope to be. “Reasonable,” she said drily. “That’s how everyone describes you.”
“Shelly,” Luke said, his voice a warning.
She shot him a look. “I let you play bodyguard, didn’t I?” Then she stepped close and enfolded me in a warm hug. She had lost some of her sardonic edge since she’d quit being a call girl and started working at the women’s shelter full-time. “God, sweetie. We heard from a guy Luke knows on the force.”
“It’s crazy. I’m worried sick.”
She pulled back with a concerned expression. “Worried about what?”
“You know, my brother.” I blinked. “What were you talking about?”
Shelly gave Philip a speaking glance. “The mess at your dorm. Him taking you out at gunpoint. Jesus, Philip. You held a gun to her head?”
Philip just stared at her, lids low. He didn’t say the safety was on. Maybe because he knew it wouldn’t absolve him. Or maybe because he wanted people to think the worst of him.
Except for me.
Luke wrapped his arm around Shelly’s waist. “Maybe we ought to invite them inside, seeing as he doesn’t plan to shoot anyone tonight. It sounds like there’s more to this story than we know.”