Chapter 4
Dixie
A food coma had me dozy, my outburst already blurred at the edges. How easily my guard could slip. Had to stay sharp.
Tyler reached across the kitchen island and took my bowl. “More?”
“I’m full, thanks. You’re a good cook, for a psycho.”
It wasn’t a lie. The meal had been delicious.
I drifted after him as he cleared up the kitchen. Any other person in any other circumstance, and I’d be offering my help. It felt strange not to.
I sipped my water and held my ground. “When you say there are people hunting me, who do you mean? The killer of Karla and…was it Esther?”
Tyler sprayed disinfectant on the stainless-steel sink and wiped it over. “How much are ye aware of the Marchant family name being in the press recently?”
“I saw a headline. Other than hearing from Lovelyn that Convict was dating Mila, I haven’t heard that name in years.”
A full stomach had loosened my tongue. Or maybe it was the mini crisis we’d shared. I’d thrown myself at him. He’d resisted. Both of us were shaken up.
I wandered my gaze over him. He’d found a soft-looking grey t-shirt to cover the broad shoulders and chest I’d barely glanced at in my freakout. I still wore his original one. It smelled of him. “What do you know about them?”
“The Marchant grandfather died, leaving a mess. Dozens of relatives dependant on the company were clamouring at Mila’s door. She was fighting to get the company up and running again but needed a vote to happen. That got postponed when it was revealed that there was a third Marchant heir.”
“Me.”
“You. Alongside that, a Marchant ship was blown up and bodies found on it. Women. Four of them. There’s a cross-border police investigation underway with an expectation that they’ll uncover trafficking. We know for a fact it was happening.”
I held my breath. “Why’s that, hun?”
“Convict was tasked with taking a woman from the Marchant warehouse at the harbour to a brothel run by a rival gang. He lost his memory, but that came back in time for him to challenge a detective on it.”
“Convict challenged a cop?”
He nodded. “Detective Dickhead himself, or Police Constable Kenney. Also Lovelyn’s dad. He knew about the trafficking but had turned a blind eye. He also told us, via Lovelyn, that there were delays on the case because of political reasons.”
“Meaning?”
He shifted in his seat. “Whenever ye have someone taking bribes, it’s a sure sign that those in power above them are doing the same, or crooked in some other way.
They act as an enabler. Kenney is as crooked as they come, and I’ve long suspected that there’s an old boys’ network in Deadwater who are buying trafficked women. ”
I clucked my tongue. Deadwater had a healthy supply of sex workers. The only reasons men would buy women without their consent were bad ones. “And the Marchant ships were bringing them in.”
His gaze held on me. “You’re not surprised.”
I was and I wasn’t. A lot had changed in the thirteen years since I was in that family, but in some respects, I’d accepted this as a possibility.
I switched the subject back to what I wanted to know. “Then the police are after me?”
“Not yet. The lead detective has only just been assigned a few days ago, so little progress has been made.”
“Then who?”
“The press. Others.”
I climbed to my feet, suddenly nauseated. “How? How can they be looking for me?”
“They’re hunting Darcy.”
Oh. I swayed on my feet. Held my focus on him. “I changed a lot to not be her. My face.” I swooped a finger down my nose to indicate the altered shape. “My cheekbones.” I underlined them in some kind of half-remembered Madonna’s ‘Vogue’ dance.
But a ton of people now knew the connection. My redesigned life was over.
“Darcy—” Tyler started.
I cut in, shocked. Hurt. “That’s a dead name. I’m not that girl.”
“I wasn’t calling ye by it.” His grey eyes widened. “My complete sentence was that Darcy is the target for the newshounds. Not ye.”
My chest crushed. “Sorry.”
“Ye have nothing to apologise for. But I’m not done explaining. The only people who know, as far as we can tell, are allies. They’re crew. They will protect ye.” His cheeks coloured red, a flush that changed him from stoic man to almost boyish.
It was in danger of fascinating me.
“They tasked me with it.”
My mouth popped open. “You have to be joking. Arran assigned you the job of finding me?”
His lips twisted at the irony.
It meant they didn’t know. It meant he was telling the truth about that.
“I mean to do a good job in protecting ye. It isn’t only the press and the police. Someone tried to kill ye. Cassie believes they’ll make a second attempt. Sorry to be blunt, but this is serious.”
“That’s why you locked me up?”
A pause. “In part.”
“I don’t know what to do with you,” I said in a rush. “You offer me safety but in a gilded cage. Believe me, I know what those are like. We have them in the brothel. Men fuck you through the bars.”
“This is not that. I’m not hiding ye away. We’re waiting, and you’ll decide when you walk back out.”
I blinked. My words stopped.
For weeks, I’d been on the run, so scared of whoever hunted me.
I’d tried to join the strip club Karla had worked at then bailed when the Shithouse tracked me down.
I’d begged to sleep on my mother’s couch, and she’d let me, while bitching about how adult kids shouldn’t assume they could rely on their parents.
Not that she’d seen much of me since I was a young teen.
All that time, I’d been running. Escaping.
Evading. Never had there been a pause point where I took stock and turned the tables.
“I thought I’d never get to go back,” I whispered.
“Don’t ye miss it?”
“The warehouse? My girls? The city? Yes. The life in the clubs, the bright lights. Totally. The clients, not at all. I don’t think I’ll ever fuck anyone again.” I watched him carefully for a reaction, then added, mostly for myself, “I miss being sexy.”
Tyler rolled a look my way, weight behind it. “You’re sexy without trying.” He checked himself. “But that doesn’t mean ye owe anyone access to ye. And now I know what ye want, I can help ye get there. In the meantime, I’m shattered. I haven’t slept in thirty-six hours.”
“Too busy abducting women?”
“Only the one. You’re enough trouble for me.”
He stretched his long arms across the sofa back. Still on my feet, I stared at where his t-shirt rucked up over his flat belly.
It shouldn’t have been hot. Somehow, the hint of a happy trail of fair hair leading under his waistband became an erotic reveal.
Tyler lumbered to his feet. “I need a shower, but I’ll sleep out here. Ye can have my bed. In the morning, we’ll talk strategy.”
“Strategy?”
“I have a team of people out there looking for ye. If ye want to lie low for a while longer, we’ll need to consider how to handle them.”
He trod past me and away to the corridor that led to the bathroom and bedroom, as I’d discovered on my self-tour earlier.
“You would lead your own people on a pointless dance?” I called after him. “I don’t know how you can sleep at night.”
“And ye flashed your tits at me. I’ll manage.”
While Tyler showered, I hid in his room but couldn’t rest. My car nap had taken the edge off.
All I could do was spin over the problem—or perhaps solution—of Tyler.
I wasn’t stupid. His actions were sketchy as hell.
No nice words would change the fact that he’d carried me away without asking and kept me locked up ever since.
But, he’d been gentle about it. He was caring, and it felt like he was on my side.
He wanted me. And I’d already vowed to myself to never trade on my body again. The problem with that? The fact that despite everything, I still wanted him back.
That was the most messed-up part of all of this.