Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
Duke
When pressing the buzzer and knocking on the door got no response, I bellowed, “Serena, open up.” She had to be here. This was the address she’d given Winston for the Uber driver.
Nothing.
I opened my phone and found a message I hadn’t heard.
WINSTON: Her things are at the Temple substation.
I sent a reply.
ME: Who is the property owner of this address?
I waited.
WINSTON: Two Benson Castle LLC
It figured. Opaque property ownership was a gimmick of the privileged, and she’d run to one of her father’s properties.
After three more tries, a faint “Go away,” came through the door. It was Serena’s voice. At least I was at the right house.
“Open up, Serena.” I stood back to look less imposing if she used the peephole.
“I’m going to use somebody else. Go away.” Her voice wavered.
“No, you’re not. I’m assigned to you, and you know it. No other firm would dare poach one of our clients.” It sounded good, even if they’d have to know she was our client for it to apply.
“Consider yourself fired.”
This time, I knew better than to listen. “You can’t fire me.”
“I just did. Can’t you get that through your thick skull?”
I shook my head. “Until my boss tells me otherwise, you’re my assignment. End of discussion. So let me in.”
“No.” After a pause, she added. “I’m going to take a shower. You better be gone when I’m done.”
For a second, I imagined her naked in the shower, and my cock responded inappropriately. Wait, why was I reprimanding myself? She’d been the one to mention a shower. “Open the door, Princess.”
“I’m nobody’s princess.” Her voice was angry now. She banged on the door. Yup, that pushed a button. The princess angle at least got her riled up enough to keep talking.
“Then stop acting like one.”
“I’m damned well not letting you in to watch me shower.”
I shifted. My dick liked the fantasy of her in the shower, the warm water caressing her body, flowing over her full tits and down to… Get it together, Mr. Hornypants. “You can’t get your bandages wet.”
“Leave, or I’ll call the cops,” she threatened.
I laughed as I adjusted my aching cock.
“What’s so funny?”
“You won’t do that.”
“Wanna bet?”
I rolled out the nuclear option. “If you do that, your father will hear about all of this.”
An exasperated sigh came from behind the door, but then the deadbolt clicked, and the door swung partially open.
She looked somewhat better, with bandages where earlier there had been raw cuts on her head and neck. “You would call my father, wouldn’t you?”
“May I come in?”
She pulled open the door and stepped to the side. “I’m still ending your services.”
I entered, careful to not crowd her. “That’s above my pay grade. You’ll need to talk to my boss about that. And he also said if you didn’t follow protocol, he’d have to go to your father.”
“I hate you.” She groaned.
“Get in line.” Hating me, but following procedure and staying alive, was better than the alternative.
The blood stain on the side of her shirt had grown. She apparently hadn’t followed Winston’s instructions and gone to the hospital.
I moved inside from the foyer and started with the room to my right, ignoring the blood soaking through her shirt. That would be next.
“What are you doing?”
“It’s called clearing the house. It’s standard procedure to make sure there isn’t a threat inside.” I pointed behind me. “Lock the door.” I heard the deadbolt click as I moved to the next room.
She followed.
In the kitchen, I found a yogurt container and a spoon on the floor and tapped the counter. “Stay here while I finish the rest of the rooms.”
After clearing the upstairs, I called Constance.
“She hasn’t shown up here,” Constance answered. “And nobody’s asked about her either.”
“I found her,” I announced. “At her house. I’ve got her secured. Why don’t you hang out there to see if the perp comes back looking for her?”
“Sure thing. I just love hospital vending machine food. How is she?”
“Stubborn, in denial about the threat.” I didn’t add hot as fuck .
I returned to the kitchen and pointed at the yogurt mess she hadn’t cleaned up. “What happened?”
Serena scooped up the items and grabbed a paper towel. “Sorry. You scared the shit out of me. I thought you were…” Her words trailed off.
I filled the silence. “I know how stressful it can be to fear for your life.”
“No. You don’t.”
Stopping, I turned. “I may not understand your particular fear, but trust me, I’ve been shot, mortared, and in situations that would make anyone soil their drawers.”
“Sorry. I just meant… Never mind.” Once again, she held something back. There was a particular fear that likely wouldn’t come out today.
Her side needed to be treated. “Stay right here while I get my med kit from the car.”
She tsk ed. “You sure are bossy.”
I ignored the dig and returned quickly with our standard first aid kit, which was as full as a paramedic’s bag.
Her eyes widened. “Are you expecting a war to break out or something?”
“It’s good to be prepared. Now, shirt off.” I tapped the dark granite kitchen island. “Hop up.”
She huffed. “I can take care of this myself.”
Nope, she sure didn’t like orders or relying on anyone.
“It’s my job. Now, shirt off.”
With a sigh, she removed it, revealing a mouthwatering amount of cleavage in a black lace bra. She winced when she placed her hands on the surface to lift herself up, so I grabbed her hips and boosted her, putting my face way too close for comfort to her tantalizing tits. I turned her to the side so I could deal with the wound without having them in my face, but my cock had already noticed. Yes, Serena Benson had grown up to be a very beautiful woman and quite the temptress.
She gasped as I touched her side.
The gash wasn’t deep, but it was long and already starting to redden. Half the bra strap had been sliced through as well.
She eyed me and snorted as her eyes slid lower. “Like what you see?”
Busted. “No. That’s going to be quite the seatbelt bruise.”
She glanced down at the diagonal mark. “Oh.”
“And you should have had this cut cleaned earlier to avoid infection.”
“I didn’t…”
Down, boy. Of course my cock was still reacting to the lusciousness of her tits, but now was not the time to be thinking of that. I backed away and folded my arms. “I also see a woman who is taking headstrong all the way to self-destructive. A woman who won’t listen to good advice.”
It was her turn to fold her arms over her chest. “I am not. I was afraid he’d be at the hospital looking for me.”
“Then you should have asked Winston to take you, or waited for me and Constance to get out of our meeting. Any of us would have taken you. You made a bad decision.”
“Okay. So I got that wrong. That hardly qualifies as self-destructive.”
“You also shouldn’t have come back here alone.” I prepared antiseptic wipes. “Winston told you to go to the hospital to get this cut looked at. Did you?” I added sarcasm. “No, of course not, because a princess like you knows better.”
I wiped the lower section of the cut with antiseptic to clean it.
She pulled away. “Ouch.”
“Don’t be a baby.” I dabbed at the cut more gently this time, then gave her the bad news. “I’m going to have to undo your bra to get at this.”
“First take off my shirt, then my bra, what’s next?” she sassed.
I wasn’t touching that question. The obvious answer would have been, Everything so I can check you thoroughly. “I can still take you back to the hospital, if you want.”
She shook her head. “No. Go ahead.”
I undid the clasp and removed the shoulder strap on this side. Mentally I thanked her as she gripped the cups to keep from flashing me while I cleaned the gash. My dick couldn’t take it. Then I took up the tweezers. “Lift your arm a little farther.”
“It hurts.” Her lips formed a pouty O, and my mind wandered to what those lips would feel like against mine, or wrapped around me.
I coughed to clear my head. “I have to get the tree branch out. Or do you want a piece of wood embedded in the scar for the rest of your life?”
“Tree branch?” she asked with a laugh.
“Fine. Keep it. It’ll make a great conversation starter when you wear an evening gown to one of those swanky parties.”
She lifted her arm even higher than I needed. “Go ahead.” She sighed.
“That’s good. Thank you.” It took a few tries to dig the offender out. She flinched but didn’t complain. “I got it.” I brought the tweezers around to show her the splinter.
Her brows winged up. “That’s big.”
I nodded. “You can lower your arm now. Cross it over your chest.” The margins were already an angry red. “You really should have gotten this cleaned and closed earlier.”
“You said that.”
I wiped the cut some more and located my glue. “Then you ran to this house without one of us.”
“I’m safe here. This is my house.”
“Wrong.” I leaned down and examined the edges of the cut. “A little farther around with the arm. Squeeze your other breast with your forearm.”
“Why?”
She was argumentative to a fault.
“I’m going to glue the cut shut, and we need the skin properly aligned to avoid a visible scar.”
“Oh.”
When she didn’t get it right, I repositioned her arm over her boob. “Hold it there.”
“Why was I wrong to come here?” she asked as I worked on the cut from back to front.
“Shh...” I’d finished half the cut. “Your attacker left a note on your car. He knows what you drive and where you live. He would also know his best chance was to catch you here, rather than risk guessing wrong about the several possible hospitals you might have gone to.”
She gasped. “You’re saying he could have been here waiting for me to come home?”
“Exactly.” A chill ran through me. It could have gone that way, and I could have lost her.
I felt her shiver.
“Now, hold still while I finish.” I completed the gluing, and it was a damned good job—well-aligned.
She sniffled. “I’m sorry. I was upset that you didn’t believe me about the attack, you know, with all the questions about the deer.”
“I believe you.”
“Your boss doesn’t.” Resentment tinged her voice. “He’s already judged me to be an emotional female making shit up.”
“That’s not true. Now you’re the one jumping to unfounded conclusions.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t reply.
I applied antiseptic cream and a bandage. “Now you can go clean up and change, but washcloth only, no shower. You have to keep the bandages dry. Don’t stretch the skin.”
“Yes, sir,” she spat with attitude as she slid off the island.
“And no bra. You don’t want to rub that wound.” I blinked twice to clear the vision of a braless Serena in a tight, thin T-shirt, nipples clearly visible, that popped into my mind. Concentrate, man. Concentrate.
She stopped and turned with a mischievous smile. “Are panties okay, or do I need to leave those off as well?”
She was killing me. “It’s a medically based suggestion, nothing more.”
After she left, I dialed Terry. Terrance Goodwin was our security system specialist.
“Cobra here. We have a new client who needs a whole-house system installed.” I gave him the address.
“Sure thing. Do you want audio as well?”
“The works. Group meet is here at seven.”
“Lucas mentioned it. Catch you then. I’ll order the pizza.”
After disconnecting, I cleaned up my bandage and wipe wrappers. Locating the trash bin under the sink, I found a surprise. A bouquet of red roses had been tossed, and they were fresh. I fished out the card that had come with them, then added my trash.
We need another chance. You know we belong together.
-G
Who the fuck was G, and why had she tossed these?
When Serena returned, she’d washed up and changed into jeans and a long-sleeve button down, and yes, she’d followed my braless suggestion. She spotted the two roses I’d laid on the counter along with the card.
“Going through my garbage, I see.”
“When did these come? Tell me about this guy. Could he be behind this?”
“He’s my ex. It ended a while ago, but he’s back in the country.” She threw her hands up. “My dad and his have some deals together, so Dad thought… It doesn’t matter. I’m over him, and he’s having trouble understanding that.”
“Last name?”
“Kittleman. But it’s not him. I would’ve recognized him.”
“Is he rich enough to hire someone to do his dirty work?”
Her mouth dropped open for a solid three-count. “His family is. But the stick question doesn’t make any sense.”
I agreed with that and moved on. “Is this your house?”
“Yes. Why?”
“I saw men’s clothes when I cleared upstairs. Who’s living with you? A boyfriend?” Why did I dislike that idea? Because it would make it harder to protect her with another person around—yeah, that sounded like a good reason.
She laughed. “No. Those are my brother Vincent’s clothes, but he’s not here much. Although on paper, the house is technically Dad’s.”
“Two Benson Castle LLC?”
She rolled her eyes. “It was a compromise to get released from Dad’s house. I had to live with my brother, and Dad had to approve the neighborhood and the house.” She shifted to a mock baritone. “ It’s not safe for a young woman to live alone in this city. ”
I nodded, not because I agreed, but because I’d begun to understand her efforts to put distance between herself and her overbearing father. My disgust with him grew with every word.
Serena was an adult, but her father treated her like a child, and that would grate on anybody. Picking out a dipshit boyfriend for her, dictating where she lived? This strong woman deserved better.
Leaning against the counter, I stuck my hands in my pockets. “You could have moved out and told him to stick it.”
“And be accused of breaking up the family? No thanks. That would devastate my mom.”
I found it interesting that she put her parents’ feelings ahead of her own. “Do you feel well enough for a drive?”
“I guess.” She was probably running on fumes, but I couldn’t leave her alone.
“You lost your phone in the accident. How about we start by going to retrieve it and your purse from the sheriff’s office?” I wanted a look at her message and call history for clues.
She perked up. “My purse?”
I nodded. “I expect so. They would collect obvious personal items of value. I also want to see that note.”
That spark reappeared in her eyes. “Good. I can’t lose my wallet.”
“Go find some shoes, and I’ll take you.” With all the money her family had, why was she worried about a few bucks in her wallet?
Serena
The view from the passenger seat of Duke’s tall Suburban was so much better than from my low car. As I’d told them, I wasn’t a car person, but I’d read the emblem on the door. As the traffic went by, I crossed my fingers that my wallet would be at the sheriff’s station. Then, I looked over at my driver. When he returned my glance, I saw eyes that had softened from the warrior eyes he’d worn when he’d first barged into my house, determined to root out any intruders. Yes, Duke Hawk was a man of many facets.
The city went by in a blur as he drove us through the streets of west Los Angeles, and the episode with Mr. Black Jacket Guy played out in my head on repeat. I kept checking the mirror on my side. Any black SUVs behind us? No, but I did spot a half dozen in other colors.
The car search kept me from rehashing Duke’s reaction to the flowers and to having seen Vincent’s clothes upstairs. There’d been a flash of something akin to relief in his eyes when I’d explained about dipshit George and my brother. Maybe it was his professional reaction to reducing the suspect pool, or just maybe it wasn’t. At some point, we’d have to talk about the note I’d given him that last day of camp.
I went back to watching the cars around us. What if the guy had taken his SUV through a car wash and rinsed off the watercolor black paint, leaving it blue or brown underneath? I’d seen a movie where the bank robbers did that, so it was possible.
Or I was paranoid. That was also possible. The telltale shake reappeared in my leg.
“What are you nervous about?” Duke asked.
“He’s still out there. That’s what.”
“And what about that makes you nervous?” he asked.
“Don’t you ever get scared?”
“Sure, everybody does. I didn’t mean you couldn’t be nervous. I’m just curious what you’re nervous about.” He seemed determined to use nervous instead of scared, a word choice clearly meant to be soothing.
“Do you think he’ll try again? I mean, he came pretty close last time.”
“Are you nervous that I won’t be able to stop him?”
I hadn’t considered that my insecurity was insulting. In Duke’s presence was the one place I shouldn’t be scared. “I didn’t mean…”
He laid his hand over mine on the center console. “I’ll keep you safe. You can count on that.”
My leg calmed. I didn’t know whether to attribute that to his words or the strength his touch conveyed, but my tension eased. Instead of pulling my hand away, I turned it over to grip his. He was suddenly my anchor.
I shifted my focus from what was outside the vehicle to what was inside—or rather, who. Years ago, the kind eyes of the boy I’d known had intrigued me. His touch now was so much better than my teenage fantasies.
He’d changed since then, and not just physically. There was a hardness to him. Obviously, we’d both been through things the other didn’t know about.
My eyes traveled to a tattoo that showed on his forearm.
If knocked down,
I will get back up,
every time.
I tapped it with my free hand. “Is there a story behind this?”
He glanced down before returning his eyes to the road. His jaw clenched. “It’s a line from the SEAL creed.”
“You were a SEAL?”
He nodded. Unlike my dipshit ex, George, who liked to boast about having been a SEAL, Duke was the strong, silent type.
He glanced down again as I ran a finger over his ink. “It’s important to you?”
Suddenly, he jerked his hand away, hitting the horn.
I looked up to find a car headed for us. I jammed my feet against the floorboards. Closing my eyes, I braced for my second crash of the day.