Chapter Six

Logan swore under his breath as his right hand slipped on the grip of the crutch, barely catching it before it hit the ground. If he weren’t so desperate to keep weight off his knee so it could heal enough to get him back in action as soon as possible, he’d throw the fuckers away and just suck up the pain.

He hobbled up to Taylor’s front door, a cute little bungalow-style place in a quiet residential neighborhood. No easy feat while juggling the crutches and the bakery box carefully cradled between his upper arm and ribcage.

The front porch was dark except for the small amount of light coming through the tall, thin windows on either side of the door. He tramped up the wooden steps and balanced his weight on his right foot to reach for the doorbell but the door swung open before he could press it. Taylor stood there backlit by the soft glow of the hall light behind her, wearing glasses, still in the same skirt suit she’d had on at Jamie’s.

Rather than seeming pleased or even surprised to see him, her greeting smile was as stiff as her posture. Forced. As though she was annoyed. “Hey,” she said, her terse tone all but eliminating her south Texas drawl.

For a moment, Logan faltered. Okay, he hadn’t expected her to throw the door wide open and invite him in, but he had expected a bit warmer of a welcome after the way they’d left things tonight. Unless he’d just imagined that they’d gained some ground back at the apartment parking lot? And the female interest he thought he’d seen in her eyes?

“Hey. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Sort of.”

Something about her stance, about the way she watched him, didn’t feel right. A couple of times now he’d gotten the sense that he made her uncomfortable when he got too close. She’d hidden it well, but he’d still noticed, especially at dinner that night back in New York City.

Maybe him showing up here alone and unannounced made her nervous. If that was the case, then he felt bad. If her past was as rough as he suspected, then fuck him, he’d screwed up. She was such a contradiction: quiet and competent, strong, and yet there was an underlying vulnerability about her that tugged at him. Her almost wary reaction to him now threw him off.

Since she didn’t seem interested in making an effort at polite conversation, he got right to the point. “Jamie came running out and caught me just as I was getting into my truck. Charlie wanted you to take the leftover cake, so she wouldn’t eat it. Jamie gave me your address,” he explained, hoping to put her more at ease and stop her from wondering whether he was a stalker, if that was what she was thinking.

Again with the stiff smile. “Oh, okay. Thanks for bringing it by.” She took the box from him and immediately retreated back inside, standing half-hidden by the door as if she didn’t trust him not to barge in and couldn’t wait for him to leave.

Well, hell, wasn’t that a kick in the ass. And the ego. Did she have a guy over or something and he’d interrupted? Charlie had told him tonight that she wasn’t seeing anyone.

He cocked his head, wondering what the hell had happened between their conversation in the parking lot and now. Taylor seemed almost…worried. “You okay?”

She straightened, frowned as she pulled the bakery box closer to her chest, the door still partially concealing her like a shield. “Yes, fine. Thanks again. You going home to put your leg up now?” At least her drawl was back. He liked it.

That was the nicest go-away-and-leave-me-alone he’d ever heard, but that’s still what it was. Okay then. “Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

“Sure. Bye.”

She shut the door in his face. And the immediate sound of the deadbolt turning was like a slap in the face.

Baffled and a little frustrated by her cold reaction since he’d never done anything but be nice to her, he turned around and made his way back to his truck, shaking his head at himself. Clearly he was way off his game, because he must have only imagined the interested signals he thought he’d picked up from her earlier tonight.

****

Taylor’s heart thudded in her ears as she waited behind the locked door, all her muscles pulled tight while Logan’s crutches thudded lightly on the driveway. A few moments later his truck door opened and shut and the engine fired up.

Only when he reversed out of the driveway and drove away down her street did she allow herself to release the breath she’d been holding and turn around and face Dillon.

He’d stepped out of the shadows now to peer through the window to the left of the front door, pistol held loosely at his side.

She swallowed, her gaze jumping from the weapon to his face. Her training kicked in, heightened by her protective instincts.

There was no telling how he’d react if she kicked him out now, and her service weapon was tucked away in her bedroom at the far end of the hall. A hand-to-hand struggle with him was out of the question, if he got violent. Even with her minimal agency training she didn’t have a chance against him physically. He was too close, too on guard, and far too big.

 “Dillon. What the hell?” Would he actually have shot Logan if he’d come inside? Jesus. What was going on?

Fear pricked at her skin like hot needles while her mind raced. The weapon. The Baker video. She’d been hoping there was another explanation for it all. Now she knew there wasn’t and it made her heart drop into her stomach.

Dillon quickly tucked the weapon into the back of his waistband and relaxed his posture. “Sorry about that.”

Sorry? Sorry? Not about to be cowed, she faced him head on while clutching the bakery box, refusing to let him know she was afraid of him now. The trials of her childhood had made her an expert at hiding fear. “What the hell is going on?”

With a sigh, he tucked his hands beneath his armpits and regarded her. “Nothing. I was just being careful.”

The it’s-no-big-deal tone wasn’t fooling her. “I told you he was a friend.”

Now that the immediate danger was over she was more pissed than scared, because there had to be a reason Dillon had come here armed in the first place. How dare he knowingly bring trouble to her doorstep?

“Is someone after you?” There was no other explanation.

He gazed back at her, his brown eyes haunted. “Like I said, I was just being careful.”

She shook her head slowly, dread sweeping through her in a cold wave. “What have you done?” she whispered, stricken.

He’d sworn to her last time they’d talked, back when she still lived in Houston, that he’d gone straight and given up criminal life completely. She’d been such a fucking idiot to believe him—to let him fool her—and for letting him into her house tonight. Obviously he’d brought trouble with him.

“I can’t believe you’d come here if you’re in that kind of trouble. If I ever meant anything to you at all, why would you put me in danger?”

“Hey, don’t worry.” He gave her what he probably considered a charming smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Everything’s fine, I promise. I would never do anything to put my best girl in danger.”

Even despite what he’d just done, the familiar endearment set off a searing ache in the center of her chest. Dammit, she’d loved him like a brother once, and a part of her always would, no matter what he’d done. She owed him too much not to care what happened to him.

“Well, he’s gone now, and won’t be coming back.” Not after the way she’d treated him.

God, she’d hated doing it, but she’d been focused on trying to protect him by making him go away as soon as possible. Logan was no doubt wondering why she’d turned into an icy bitch in the space of twenty minutes since he’d last seen her.

At least she’d played the part well enough to hide what was really going on and made him leave. At this point she didn’t know whether Dillon would have threatened Logan if he’d tried to come inside.

She drew a deep breath. “Tell me what the hell’s going on. Right now.”

Dillon lowered his arms to his sides. “Okay, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He searched her eyes. “Taylor. Tell me you’re not afraid of me.”

She’d never imagined being afraid of Dillon. But he was like a stranger now and she didn’t know if she could trust him anymore. “You pulled a gun in my house because someone showed up at my front door.” A trickle of fear hit her. Why would he do that unless he was prepared to use it?

“I know, and I’m sorry for scaring you.”

That he carried a weapon didn’t bother her as much as that he’d felt the need to draw it because someone had shown up at her door. If Dillon was that on edge, whoever was after him had to be close. “Are we both in danger right now?”

He frowned as though that was a crazy question. “No, of course not.”

She didn’t believe him. “You need to tell me the truth, Dillon.”

“Okay. Let’s go back upstairs and finish our beers, and we’ll talk.”

She should kick him out, but part of her was afraid it might enrage him. For all their shared history, she didn’t know him at all anymore. It chilled her to think what he might be capable of now. She also wanted to know the truth and find out what he was involved in. And it wasn’t pharmaceuticals. So if he was willing to talk, she would hear what he had to say.

“Fine. But you have to be honest with me.”

He looked away. “Come on,” he murmured, gesturing for her to follow him as he headed down the hall to the stairs that led to the loft.

Her mind raced as she followed him. She was pretty sure he wasn’t going to hurt her. If he’d wanted to, he would already have done it when her guard wasn’t up.

In the loft Dillon sank onto the couch opposite her while she lowered herself stiffly into the corner of the other. “So, what do you want to know?” he asked with a wry grin.

There was no way she could fake it and pretend she wasn’t upset, and he’d never buy it anyway. She’d always been completely honest with him, even when the truth hurt.

For her, his behavior downstairs had changed everything, and now she wished he’d never contacted her at all. She had to tread carefully here though. If he found out what she did for a living and that she’d seen him on the Baker video…

What if that’s why he’s here? “You’re not selling pharmaceuticals.”

His eyes locked with hers, and a grudging smile tugged at his mouth. “Wow, straight for the throat. Still telling it like it is, huh?”

“It’s a personality flaw. Now tell me what you’re doing.” Other than being a wanted man. God, she’d invited a wanted freaking criminal into her home.

He reached for his half-finished beer, not looking at her. “I think you already know the answer to that.”

Taylor clamped her back teeth together. Drugs. It was always drugs. He didn’t do them, only sold and distributed them. Unless that had changed too. And she guessed whatever he was into now was a hell of a lot more sophisticated than what he’d done when he’d been a teenager.

“You swore to me you’d given all that up.”

“Yeah, well, it’s kinda hard to get out once you’re in as deep as I am.”

She held back asking him flat out if he was working with the Venenos and thought about the turn his life had taken at age sixteen.

All he’d wanted back then was quick money, to improve their lives. Put food on the table when their foster father couldn’t be bothered to feed them. New shoes to replace the ones she’d repaired with duct tape to keep the soles from falling off, so the kids at school would stop bullying her. A warm coat to keep her from freezing in the winter, because the only one she had was three sizes too small and she couldn’t do up the zipper.

Little things at first. Then more expensive and extravagant ones. A TV for her room so she didn’t have to be around their foster dad when Dillon wasn’t there. A pre-paid calling card so she always had a way of contacting him, even when he disappeared for days at a time.

God, she’d been such a hypocrite. Taking the cash and all the things he bought with his dirty money because she’d been so desperate for a better life.

But it hadn’t been enough for Dillon. He’d wanted more, no matter the cost to the rest of his life or the people he cared about. It was why he’d had to run in the first place, because the choices he’d made had inevitably caught up with him, along with rivals and the police.

Why were you at Baker’s house that day?

She was dying to ask him, and couldn’t for fear of exposing herself. “You could have broken away from all that years ago and started over. You told me that’s what you wanted, that you hated having to look over your shoulder all the time.” Hence him carrying a weapon wherever he went.

His lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Sorry to see I’m still such a disappointment to you after all these years.”

His tone was dry, but his eyes were flat and it made her feel like her chest was full of concrete. “You swore to me last time we talked that you’d gone straight. Was that a lie too?” She was angrier about that than everything else. Angry that he’d lied to her and fallen back into that lifestyle when he could have done so much with his life.

“I did. For a while.” His gaze lingered on hers, almost as if he were gauging her reaction.

That look sent a warning shiver down her spine. Fuck. Fuck. She was beginning to worry that his visit had nothing to do with catching up at all, and everything to do with her job. Did he know who she worked for? “God, Dillon…”

“Okay, so I told you the truth. Now it’s your turn.”

She blinked at him. “My turn for what?”

“I heard a rumor that you’re working for the DEA now.”

Her lungs seized. She stared at him, the blood draining from her face. He was here because of her job.

The clock on the mantel downstairs struck the hour, sounding as loud as a gong. Dillon had a dark, dangerous vibe to him now. How could the man before her now be the same boy she’d had up on a pedestal all these years? She was such an idiot.

Somehow she kept her face blank and found her voice. “Did you?”

“That true?” he asked, his quiet words slicing through the suffocating silence like a blade. She didn’t know whether he meant to imply a threat or not, but she felt it all the same.

“And if it is?” she flung back, neither confirming nor denying it.

He pressed his lips together in a sad sort of smile and shook his head once. “It would make things complicated, wouldn’t it?”

 “Complicated how?” she asked, raising her chin as she held his gaze. God, she didn’t have the guts to flat-out ask whether he was working with the Venenos. The probability that he was, was just too damn terrifying.

“Would put us both in a hell of an awkward position. Testing our loyalties and all that.”

Taylor stared back at him, his words hitting hard. He was testing to see whether she’d turn him in or not, and hinting that he could do the same to her. Trying to figure out if their bond was strong enough for her to protect him now that she knew he was breaking the law. It made her as angry as it made her want to cry.

She thought fast. “What the hell are you talking about? Test what loyalties?”

Dillon sighed and dragged a hand through his hair, then settled his elbows on his knees as he regarded her, his expression earnest. “Shit, this isn’t the way I wanted things to turn out between us. I really have missed you, Taylor.”

In spite of herself, tears pricked her eyes. He’d been her hero. She would always be grateful for that, and some part of her would always feel obligated to repay the favor. But not now, with them on opposite sides.

Her voice broke. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me.” If he’d known or at least suspected that she worked for the agency, then he’d come here tonight knowing it would put her in the worst position imaginable. Did he know that she was involved with the Baker investigation too?

His expression softened. “I had to see you. Even if the rumors about your job were true, I still had to come.”

“Why?” She blinked furiously to keep the tears at bay. Tears were weak. Useless. And she was neither of those things. Not anymore. “To drag me into whatever you’ve done? Cover for you or something? Because I’m a paper pusher, Dillon. Even if you wanted me to do something for you, I only work low profile cases. I wouldn’t be much help to you anyway.”

“No. Because even all these years later, you’re still the only person I can really trust.”

His words sent invisible fingers reaching through her ribcage to crush her heart until it bled. There it was again, that damn instinctive urge to protect him. Save him, even if it was from himself. Jesus, she hated this.

“So what do you want from me? A favor?” She couldn’t keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“No.” He stood, drained the last of his beer and placed it back on the coaster. The soft thunk of the glass hitting the wood seemed to echo in the stillness.

Without another word, he headed down the stairs. On wooden legs, Taylor got up and followed him down to the kitchen. He snagged his leather jacket from the island and headed for the front door.

Wait.

The word lodged in her throat, nearly choking her. She wanted him to leave, yet part of her wanted him to stay, so she could convince him to turn his life around. This wasn’t a game. His actions would probably cost him his life one day.

It was too late to help him, let alone save him.

He didn’t look back at her as he opened the door. But then he paused, his hand on the door. Taylor swallowed, ordering herself to stay put.

When he looked back at her, his dark eyes were somber, and something twisted inside her. She ached to save him, drag him out of the danger he’d immersed himself in. But how? He would never listen. He never had.

“I’m sorry. I wish things were different. Just…don’t tell anyone I was here, okay? That’s the only favor I’ll ask you for. It was good to see you. Take care of yourself.” He walked out and shut the door firmly behind him, leaving her standing alone in her kitchen while her heart ripped in two.

He was going to die. She knew it with utter certainty.

Without thinking she raced over and grabbed the doorknob, intending to rip the door open and go after him. At the last second, she stopped and took a steadying breath.

No. Chasing after him and demanding answers would get her nowhere. Even at the closest stage of their relationship she had never been able to pry something out of Dillon if he didn’t want to disclose it.

At that moment, she’d never felt more alone. She thought of Logan, and the ache inside her intensified. The urge to call him right now was so strong it was a live thing inside her. He would keep her safe. But it wasn’t fair to ask that of him, or to drag him into this nightmare of a drama. So as usual, she was on her own once again.

Numb inside and out, heart thudding against her ribs, she turned the deadbolt and stood there for a long moment, considering her options. She only had two, and no matter which one she chose, each would eat at her insides like acid.

Either she betrayed the closest thing she’d ever had to a brother, or she jeopardized everything she’d worked for to help protect him.