Chapter Seven Addie
Knox, Linc, Ryder and Brighton surround me, blasting out questions I don’t have answers to. Still feeling shaky, I wrap my arms around myself and, a moment later, a jacket is spread over my shoulders. Vaughn’s jacket, I realize, as peppermint and pine embrace me.
“Who the hell did this?” Knox demands.
They all focus on me with worried expressions, and I’m just as shocked. Someone tried to kill me. The weight of that fact is finally sinking in, and I have no clue who or why.
For whatever reason, I look to Vaughn for answers. He’s on his phone, reporting the incident, and that means Denver PD will arrive soon.
“Why did you leave the ballroom?” Brighton asks, brow furrowing.
Dragging my gaze off Vaughn, I meet Brighton’s inquisitive emerald eyes. “I…uh…” Shit. I never stutter. But what am I supposed to say? I was making out with Vaughn on a pool table and then got pissed when he rejected me?
“Go through exactly what happened,” Ryder says. “Step by step from the time I left your side to why you left the party and went to your car.”
“It’s my fault,” Vaughn announces, moving beside me and pocketing his phone. “I pulled her aside, said something I shouldn’t have, and she got ticked off.”
“What did you say?” Linc demands through gritted teeth, tone lethal, and stepping between us. Shielding me. As much as I appreciate the big guy for immediately taking my side, I lay a reassuring hand on his muscled arm.
“It doesn’t matter. When doesn’t Vaughn find a way to piss me off?” I ask, trying to make light of the situation and act like nothing happened. Act like he didn’t have his tongue down my throat. Act like I didn’t enjoy every moment of our secret encounter.
Act like someone didn’t just attempt to blow me up into a million pieces.
A shudder runs through my body, and a cool breeze lifts my hair as the sound of approaching sirens fill the air.
God, this could’ve ended horrifically. Lights flash as firetrucks pull into the driveway and, without warning, my legs wobble.
A steady hand grabs my elbow, holding me up when I’m on the verge of tipping over in my heels.
“Let’s sit,” Vaughn suggests in a low voice, steering me over to a wrought iron bench beside some large Rose of Sharon shrubs.
“I’m f-fine,” I insist, but I drop down and attempt to regroup.
The truth is, I’ve never felt more rattled in my life.
And this isn’t my first rodeo. I’ve been chased down by gun-toting thugs in the Parisian catacombs, stalked by a leopard in the Cambodian jungle and jumped off a museum roof in Amsterdam to escape a knife-wielding Simon Nyx.
But it’s important to put on a strong front for my team and act like everything is going to be okay. Because as The Boss, that’s what I do. It’s my job to always be prepared and make them feel secure.
Vaughn sits down beside me, his large thigh brushing against mine. It’s comforting, and I don’t want to think too hard about why. Instead, I look up at my team and send up a silent thank you that I’m still alive. In that moment, I know my mom is watching over me, keeping me safe.
Letting out a shaky breath, I vow vengeance. Whoever did this is going down.
The firetrucks arrive and firemen jump out of their trucks and set to work, squashing the blaze before it can spread. My poor Shelby. She’s nothing more than a burning shell. I can get a new car, I know that.
But I can’t get a new detective.
My attention shifts to Vaughn. That blast nearly took us both out. If he hadn’t yanked me out when he had, we’d both be dead.
“How did you know?” I ask, turning to face him.
“Yeah, Vaughn,” Knox interrupts, tone suspicious. “How the hell did you know her car was about to explode?”
“The engine spluttered—highly odd and an instant red flag for that car.” His eyes narrow.
“And let’s get one thing crystal fucking clear: I had nothing to do with it, and I will hunt down the bastard who’s responsible and nail their ass.
From this point forward, Addison will be under the protection of the Denver PD. And me.”
Linc growls and Knox shakes his head. “She can stay with one of us,” Knox says curtly.
“It’s okay.” I lift my hand as they start to argue. “I’m going straight home and—”
“I’m going with you,” Vaughn states in a big boss, not-taking-no-for-an-answer way.
“Seriously? I don’t need you to—”
“Addison,” he snaps, full of authority, instantly shutting me up. “Someone purposely rigged your car to explode, and I will make sure you receive protection until this is resolved. What if the fucker tries to do it again?”
A chill races down my spine.
“Because that”—he nods to the smoking wreckage of my Mustang—“wasn’t a fucking accident. It was premeditated murder.”
“Jesus,” I whisper, pulling his suit jacket tighter around me. Police cars roll up and I feel like I’m caught in a nightmare. And if Vaughn’s right? Yeah, not good. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to have him stay close. At least for a little bit. Until they catch the asshole who did this.
“I need to talk with them,” Vaughn says, nodding to the police officers now on the scene. “Stay here with your friends. I’ll be back shortly, we’ll give our statements, and then I’m taking you home. Okay?”
I nod, not in any mood to fight him. Is this what shock feels like?
All my life, I’ve been the one in charge, making sure things get handled and are done properly. As independent as I am, it feels nice to not be that person right now. If Cole wants to keep me safe and take charge of the situation, I’m more than okay with having him assume control.
After giving my hand a quick squeeze, he stands up and walks over to his fellow officers. Despite the chill in the air, he unbuttons the cuffs at his wrists and rolls up his sleeves. And even though I’m still shaking inside, trying desperately to get my shit together, I find it sexy as hell.
What is it about a man’s exposed forearms that makes me a little giddy? Well, Cole Vaughn’s forearms, in particular.
Knox lets out a low whistle. “That is a man on a mission. And you, dear Addie, are the mission.”
“Vaughn protect Addie,” Ryder says in his best caveman voice, and I roll my eyes.
“It’s his job,” I remind them.
“Technically, it’s not his job to stay at your place,” Brighton says with a little smirk. “But it’s cute that he’s willing to take that extra step.”
“Seriously, B? You, too?”
“Oh, honey, he’s been looking at you with fuck-me eyes for the past year,” she states with a wave of her manicured fingers.
My jaw drops. “No, he hasn’t!”
Linc snorts. “You need glasses, Addie?”
I close my gaping mouth. What are they talking about? “We bicker worse than Ryland and I did when we were young. I think you guys are the ones who need glasses. Knox?”
I look to my good friend for reassurance. Out of everyone, I’ve known him the longest and trust his opinion implicitly. If Knox says something is true, it might as well be a damn fact.
“Be glad he’s a detective and not a judge,” Knox says, lips twitching.
“What?” I’m thoroughly confused.
“Or he’d sentence you to his bed,” Knox finishes.
“God!” I slap his arm and huff out a breath.
“Corny, but true,” Linc says, backing Knox and the others up.
“Okay, look,” Brighton says, “the point is he’s going to stay by your side and keep you protected. And that’s all we care about—keeping our girl alive.”
“Thanks,” I murmur. “Staying alive sounds like a good plan.”
“Hell, yes, it does,” Knox states, sitting down next to me.
Needing to focus on something other than my near demise, I ask them about their encounters and observations tonight regarding Simon Nyx, Bella Diamond and Billy Warrant.
“Diamond had a red dress on,” Ryder reports, recounting our run-in with her. He sounds a little too interested for my peace of mind.
“She was working the room like a pro,” Brighton adds. “And that was definitely a wig.”
“I caught a glimpse of Warrant,” Linc says. “Guy is as sneaky as a ferret.”
“Yeah, I think he already stole some shit and snuck out,” Knox adds. “But no sign of Nyx.”
“He could be out of town,” I suggest.
“Or we missed him,” Linc states, not sounding happy.
“We don’t miss things,” I reply. “We’re too good.”
“We were also distracted the moment your car blew up.” Knox frowns. “You sure you’re okay? You know you can come stay with me and Hunter.”
“With any of us,” Brighton adds.
“I know. And thank you, but I want to crawl into my own bed and go to sleep.” And forget this day ever happened.
“Just make sure Vaughn doesn’t try to crawl in there with you,” Brighton teases. “I get the feeling he wants to lick you.”
“What?” My eyes practically bug out of my head.
“You know, so then you’re his.” She lets out a snort laugh, and I’m not nearly as amused.
My friends stay right by my side, and it isn’t long before Vaughn returns with a cop so we can give our statements.
He’s being way too supportive, and I find myself appreciating his presence.
The truth is, Cole Vaughn is a no bullshit kind of man.
As much as I hate to admit it, I’m drawn to his authenticity.
In my world, honesty is so rare, and he oozes it.
The man should be head of the morally upright brigade, and I wonder if he’s ever broken a rule in his entire life.
Probably not. God, we couldn’t be more opposite.
A part of me thinks I should skip town fast, even if that means leaving him hanging out to dry. But I can’t. I might not always be as upfront or as candid as he is, but he’s helping me, comforting me, now protecting me, and I won’t do him dirty like that.
“Are you ready?” he asks, and I nod.
After hugging my crew and promising to touch base in the morning, I follow Vaughn over to his car.
Like the gentleman he is, he opens the passenger door for me, and I slip inside.
Once he’s settled behind the wheel, I glance over, admiring his forearms again and the way his long fingers grip the wheel.
The man has such nice hands. Short, clean nails.
Big, competent hands that felt so incredible moving over my body.
Damn. I rein my lusty thoughts back in, searching for something non-sexual to focus on.
“Nice car,” I finally comment. It’s a black Dodge Charger, courtesy of the Denver PD, I’d guess.
“Thanks. She’s not quite as fast as your Shelby was, but she’s got it where it counts.”
Poor Shelly. May she rest in peace in that big scrapyard in the sky.
He drives to the end of the driveway and turns in the direction of my condo. Sitting back and trying my best to uncoil the gathering tension throughout my body, I realize he hasn’t asked me for my address. “You seem to know exactly where you’re going,” I murmur.
He casts me a sidelong look. “I know more than you think, Miss Mills.”
“Oh, really? Do enlighten me, Detective Vaughn.”
After a moment of hesitation, he says, “I know your full name is Addison Mae Mills. Parents were Nathan “Cross” Mills and Alma “Angel” Mills. While your father became a decorated Navy SEAL, your mother became a thief. And you followed in her footsteps. She taught you the art of the heist and—”
“I’m going to stop you right there,” I say in a crisp voice.
The way he rambles one supposed fact after another—things he has only surface knowledge about—irks me.
“First, my mother was a master at her craft who did everything to care for my brother and me after my asshole father left us. He was in love with an assassin who he decided to start a new family with.”
Oh yeah, I can see that catches him off guard.
And I waste no time keeping him there. “Apparently, I had two deranged half siblings, psycho twins, but never had the pleasure of meeting them because they died after trying to kill my brother’s team.
Then dear old Dad tried to kill my brother.
Luckily, he’s no longer a threat. You think you know me and my family? ” I scoff. “You don’t know shit.”
His mouth snaps shut, his gaze unreadable. I have no idea why I just spilled all our dark and twisted family secrets, but his high and mighty tone infuriated me.
“Why don’t you tell me something not in my background report,” I challenge coolly.