Chapter 2 #2
“Sinclair. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Pops,” he said far too quietly. “He’s been shot and Alex, it doesn’t appear he’s going to make it.”
Catherine Devereaux
Another later night.
Another game of verbal volleyball with a criminal proud of his long list of accomplishments.
Unfortunately for him, they were all illegal, including nearly beating a man to death.
What had pissed me off more than anything was him touting just how many ‘important’ friends he had, even daring to threaten me in open court.
Which the judge had all but ignored.
Men were often dumber than a box of rocks. Perhaps he’d believed a chick in a skirt couldn’t hold a candle to his special ‘friends.’
At least I’d been given the satisfaction of shock settling on his face after the verdict had been read.
While the case I’d spent grueling hours prosecuting had become another win, I’d been left with a sickening feeling the bad guys were starting to win more than lose.
Even with the career criminal’s conviction, minutes before I’d left the office, I’d been advised that the appeal had already been set in motion.
So much for the good guys.
Evidently, the pipsqueak hadn’t been lying to me. He had friends in high places.
Grimacing, I headed to my car, fighting with my purse in search of my keys. Laughter drew my attention and while still digging, I glanced down the street, wishful thinking marring my self-defeatist attitude for a few beautiful seconds.
Music was the soul of New Orleans, the nightlife unlike any other city.
There wasn’t a day of the week or even a time of any day where various bars and private clubs weren’t blasting festive music from high-dollar speakers trickling out to the streets.
A blatant invitation to join in a moment of pure sin.
Something I’d ignored for as long as I could remember. Why? Because I’d been working to build my reputation, climbing the big, beautiful brass ladder that lately had seemed tarnished. Or was that a brass ring? What did it honestly matter at this point?
It was only Tuesday and I was already exhausted. With another case to prepare for, the work needed could mean an all-nighter.
My, wasn’t I devoted?
I forced myself to turn away, realizing just how dark it was on the street near the office at this time of night. Everyone but the janitor had left for the evening. Not me. I was the workaholic.
Laughing, I finally located my keys, promising myself that before cracking open my briefcase, I’d indulge in at least one glass of wine.
Maybe I’d even dare allow myself a little fantasy or two just for kicks and giggles, especially since the closest I’d come to sex in the last year had been an accidental run-in with a very handsome man.
A quiet shudder rolled down my back, a sizzling image of the mystery man’s rugged face sliding into the forefront of my mind.
With a quick look both ways for oncoming vehicles, I crossed the street, hitting the key fob as soon as I did.
The flash of my headlights was a warm welcome on the dark night.
A strange feeling of being watched rolled over me, tensing my muscles.
Stopping short, I glanced from side to side, chastising myself.
I’d had the strangest feelings as of late, as if I was being watched from afar.
In my line of work, threats were inevitable, but most were nothing more than someone I’d prosecuted shooting off his or her mouth.
Usually his.
I laughed off the feeling, quickening my steps.
Suddenly, I felt cold, hard steel pressed against the back of my neck.
My breath caught and instantly, I bristled.
“Don’t move.”
“What do you want?” My question was a hiss, not a good idea but I couldn’t help it.
“Give me your keys. Hurry.”
The man’s deep voice was just behind my ear. The sound was flustered. Whatever he was in the middle of wasn’t about me. He yanked on my arm, pulling me further away from the overhead streetlight. As if he was being followed.
“Keys. Now!” His voice was more insistent.
A set of determined footsteps racing toward us caught both my attention and the perpetrator, the gun suddenly pulling free from my skin. That’s when I did exactly as I’d been trained to do in self-defense classes.
I stomped on the man’s foot first, elbowing his stomach and managing to break free. Unable to stop myself, I turned around and issued two brutal punches to his face.
He went down with a hard thud, the gun knocked from his hand.
This wasn’t about trying to be a hero but getting to safety. I rushed forward but heard a sound that caught my full attention. A huge man jumped in front of me, blocking my view of the gunman.
“You should know better than to attack a woman.”
I froze from the sound of the second man’s husky voice, the darkness within offering a promise of pure sin.
But in this case, violence as well.
The sound of savage thuds permeated the night air and I jerked backward, spinning to see who’d come to my rescue, but the savior’s quick actions and the shadows prevented me from seeing his face.
It was all over in less than a minute, a quiet, eerie calm settling over the area even as music played in the background. There were no crowds gathered, no one paying any attention.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed two other men loitering in the shadows. As soon as the fight was done, they moved closer.
“Get him out of here,” the man who’d protected me was snarling. He reached down, scooping up the attacker’s weapon.
“What do you want me to do with him, boss?” one of the others asked.
All three were dressed as if they were going out for the evening, their slick suits a representation of money I didn’t have. Their attire was likely hand crafted in Italy. The other two were blocking my savior, but something was already nagging the back of my mind.
He took a deep breath, rising to his full height. Taller than the other two, I was easily able to see the side of his face under the streetlight.
The man I’d literally run into a few days before.
“Put him on ice. I’ll deal with him later.”
On ice. I wasn’t na?ve enough not to know the expression. Whoever he was had no intention of calling the police. I wasn’t certain if I should demand that happen.
Without asking any additional questions, his two companions grabbed the assailant under the arms, dragging him down the sidewalk until they disappeared out of sight.
“Thank you,” I said, uncertain what if anything I should say at this point. “I think whoever he was learned his lesson.”
“I should hope so. But I’m going to ensure that he does.”
His voice was entirely different than I remembered. Smooth, velvety, completely masculine, and full of the very darkness exposed by his actions. “We should call the police.”
When he turned to face me, I was even more taken aback than I’d been on the bright sunny day. He was gorgeous in every sense of the word, his dark suit and shirt accentuating his powerful build and broad shoulders.
“Unfortunately, sweet angel, I’ve learned the police are not always particularly helpful in removing the kind of scum who prey on women.”
There was an edge to his voice and his words that sent a shiver down my spine. “That’s not always true. They do their best.”
My words seemed ridiculous. How often had I complained about what police officers and detectives didn’t do correctly? Often resulting in perfectly good cases being tossed out on a technicality.
He took a step forward and the intense look on his face created an image of a predator. When he slowly lowered his gaze, it wasn’t as if he was undressing me with his eyes.
The powerful savior was ensuring I hadn’t been hurt.
Suddenly, he was crowding my space, yet I wasn’t uncomfortable. Quite the opposite. I felt a strong pull to him, more so than I had before.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked, the timbre of his voice even huskier than before.
Intension vibrations tickled every nerve ending.
“No. I think he was running from someone, trying to find a way of escaping.”
When he laughed, while the sound was subtle, the vibrations would last for a very long time. “He was. You should know better than to fight back.”
“Maybe you’re right, but I wasn’t brought up to become a victim or to allow a bad man to try and control me.”
My statement seemed to amuse him, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly. He reached out, curling his fingers and I found myself leaning in. The light brush of his knuckles left me paralyzed with a sinful moment of desire.
“Then sadly, I’ll need to walk away.”
After another sweeping look, he took a step backward. “Because not only am I a very bad man, but I would enjoy nothing more than controlling you.”