Chapter 6
Who’s your friend?
Ben
Parked on the curb in front of Annie’s building, I have binoculars aimed at the industrial complex across the way, searching for anything or anyone out of the ordinary.
A gigantic distribution center with a direct view of her apartment would be the perfect place for someone to observe her.
Not only that, but I’d guess there are hundreds, if not thousands, of people, trucks, and trailers coming and going every day—the ideal recipe for a creep to blend in.
My phone vibrates, so I retrieve it from my back pocket and check the screen. Annie’s still sleeping in the passenger seat, so I lean against the hood and answer, knowing exactly why my brother is calling. “Hey, Drew.”
The line is quiet for a solid ten seconds before he speaks. “Are you going to make me ask why Annie Farrow showed up at two thirty in the morning, then an hour later you’re giving her a piggyback ride through the alley to grab an arsenal of supplies before you take off without fucking backup?”
I wasn’t exactly stealthy at the Agency earlier. I knew whoever was in surveillance saw me on the monitors and word was going to spread. “Someone broke into her place, and she got scared, so she came to me.”
“And you didn’t think to give anyone a heads-up about where the hell you were going?”
Nothing pisses me off more with him is when he stops being the big brother and tries to be my boss, or worse—my dad. “Who else knows?”
“Why, you trying to hide her from everyone?”
I double-check that she hasn’t woken up, but still lower my voice.
“Yeah. I am. You think I need to hear the same shit you’re giving me right now from everyone else?
She’s terrified, Drew. Someone’s been fucking with her for the better part of a year, and last night, when she came home, her window was open, and her cat was gone.
She’s being stalked, and I don’t need to tell you what happens when this kind of shit escalates. ”
“Are there not cops in Annapolis?”
“Yeah, but when she tried to report that things were moved around her apartment, she was told there’s nothing they could do without evidence.”
He sighs. “Shit.”
The Lawless in Lawless Protection Agency isn’t just part of the name—it’s our family’s history.
My father was fired from the police department after—very successfully—going after the men who assaulted my mom.
We respect law enforcement, and we understand they have laws to abide by, but we don’t.
Because when it comes to protection, there are no rules.
What’s happening with Annie is a prime example of what our company is all about.
“Who else knows about her, Drew?”
“Just Fitz. When he saw it on the live feeds, he tracked you, then pulled me into the control room before I made it to my office.”
This is good. Fitz will keep his mouth shut. “I’ll brief you when I get back, but I want this quiet until I know more.”
“As long as you—”
“I know what I need to do, and right now, it’s not talking to you.”
I hang up on him, just like I did during our conversation that night, reminding me he still treats me like I’m incompetent. Maybe I was back then. I got complacent, and I fucked up, but I own that. Not only did I learn from my mistake, but I paid for it, and I’ll pay for it the rest of my life.
My focus shifts back to where it needs to be—on Annie, who’s still dead to the world.
I hate to wake her, but I want to get this over with so I can start nailing down whoever’s been breaking into her place. I return my binoculars to the duffel, haul it onto the sidewalk, then open her door.
She jolts uptight with a startled gasp and rubs her eyes.
“We’re here already? Sorry, I didn’t mean to fall asleep.
” She unbuckles her seat belt and swings her legs around, but I don’t give her space to get down.
Her eyes are on my chest, then she blinks and tilts her head back. “Is something wrong?”
“I just want to make sure you’re ready for this.”
That little space between her eyebrows wrinkles. “Of course I am.”
I glide my tongue across my teeth and carefully choose my words. “We don’t know what we’re walking into, Annie.”
“I couldn’t care less if my place is trashed and everything I own is gone. I only care about Joan Wick, and I’m trying to be optimistic that she made her way back.”
“Good.” I am, too, because if we don’t find that cat, it’ll destroy Annie. I help her out, grab the duffel, and put my palm on her back.
From what Annie’s described, I’m not anticipating imminent danger, but I still have a Glock holstered at my waist. I hope whoever’s been watching her has eyes on her now. I want him to see me carry a bag inside with her and have his assumption push him over the edge.
I want whoever’s been stalking her to try approaching her with me here. I’d take great pleasure in fucking up some piece of shit who’s been messing with her head. It’d actually bring me immense pleasure to make him suffer…watch him bleed, see him cry, hear him beg.
Shit.
That feeling, that desire to protect her, to be everything she needs, is already starting to consume me. It’s faster than last time, but just as intense. Maybe even more so.
I can’t get distracted again, can’t get in too deep. This is my chance to prove myself to her and make up for the error in judgment that caused the messy fallout between our fathers.
My head is on a swivel as I escort her into her building, but she stops in her tracks. “Oh no. I don’t have my keys.”
“It’s all good.” I dig through the bag and find what I’m looking for, then pick the lock in about three seconds. “Lead the way.”
She falters as if she wants to say something, but when I raise a brow, she scoffs, then heads inside. Her limp seems to have improved slightly, and she’s still in just socks, so she needs to be off her feet.
One of the first things I learned about her was her fear of small spaces, so I’m not surprised when she bypasses the elevator.
We approach the stairwell, but before she takes a step, I bend my knees, wrap my arm around just below her waist, and lift her off the ground. She blows out an annoyed breath. “Ben, I can walk.”
“So can I.”
“Not like this for four flights, you can’t.”
I love a challenge. “Wanna bet?” I hit the landing on the second story.
“No, because you’ll tear the muscles in your arm before you’ll let me win. I don’t want that to happen, so just put me down.” She wiggles, but I hold on tighter.
“Why? So you can hurt yourself further?”
She settles. “That’s impossible if I hop the steps on my good foot.”
“And what did I do last time you suggested that?”
She looks away from me, but I can see her rolling her eyes. We reach the fourth floor, and I lower her to her feet in front of her unit.
I pick the deadbolt, then push the door open slowly. I realize immediately that her small studio is empty. There’s no threat, and there’s no place for anyone to hide, not even a cat.
My blood still runs cold when I spot how close the fire escape access is to where she sleeps every night. Annie clenches my tee in the back, and I reach behind to give her hip a reassuring squeeze.
I turn to her, and my shirt twists in the death grip she has on it. I pry her fingers apart only to have her squeeze them around mine so tight it’s on the verge of painful. “It’s okay, Blue. Nobody else is here. You’re safe.”
“I didn’t shut the window, Ben,” she whispers.
“But someone did, someone was inside my apartment.” She tears away from me and charges across the room, then yanks the bottom of the window, but it doesn’t budge.
“What if she tried to come back and couldn’t get in?
” She fiddles with the latch, shoves it open, then sticks her head out and yells, “Joan Wick. Come here, baby. I’m home, come back! Joan Wick!”
My heart breaks when I hear her sob, and I grab my shit, looking up and down the hall before closing the door. But then it hits me. She didn’t have her keys, so why did I have to mess with the deadbolt? Who the fuck locked her door?
Yeah, someone is messing with her, and I want her out of here.
I walk over to tell her that, but she face-plants into my chest, sobbing.
I rub her back, taking the time to calm myself down as well.
“I’m gonna get a couple of cameras hooked up, and I want you to pack while I do that.
Then we’ll drive around and try to find Joan Wick. ”
“Pack for what?” She sniffles.
“You’re coming back with me and don’t even try to argue ab—”
A knock comes from the hallway, and I pull her away from the window, slam it shut, and put her in the small bathroom that’s to the left of the door.
Another knock, louder this time, and I look through the peephole to see a guy about my age with blond hair parted down the middle, pressed slacks, and a wrinkled white dress shirt, waiting impatiently.
I yank the door open, and he looks up, the hopeful, pathetic expression on his face flips when he sees me in Annie’s stead.
Immediately, I hate this guy. There’s something in his weird gray eyes that screams suspicious in a way that sets off a familiar chill down my spine. I don’t know who he is, but I know what he wants—and he’s not getting it.
He shifts on loafers, and I cross my arms, waiting him out. He tries to look beyond me, but I move to block his view. “Is Annie here?” he finally asks.
“What do you want with Annie?”
“Who are you?”
“Who are you?” I counter.
He pulls his shoulders back, giving himself confidence that is clearly for show. “I’m Annie’s friend.”
I lean back call her name. “Who’s your friend?” She comes out of the bathroom, and I make just enough room for her to tuck tight next to me.
“Poe?” She slides her arm around my waist and tells me, “He’s my neighbor, my friend.”
He gets tense at her description of him, and his neck turns red.
I want to see how he reacts to being insulted in front of her. “Is there something you need, neighbor?”
He grinds his teeth together and shoots daggers at me, but then looks at Annie like she’s the reason the sun rises and sets. “I have your cat.” His voice makes me pay even more attention to him. It’s empty, but it’s evil at the same time.
Annie gasps. “You found her? Is she okay?”
“Why don’t you come inside and see for yourself?” He smiles smugly. I move.
I shove him into the hallway, grab his throat, then slam him against the wall. “You break into her place, too, motherfucker? She turned you down, and your ego can’t take it, so you fuck with her to get your rocks off?”
“Ben, stop.”
“Answer me!”
He chokes out, “No.”
“Let him go, Ben.” Annie puts her hand on my arm and pulls, but I’m too furious to back down. She tugs again. “Now, Benny.”
I move her an arm’s length away before letting him breathe again.
“What in the world?” he wheezes. “You’re crazy.”
About Annie I am. “How’d you get the cat?”
“She was in the hallway meowing. I knocked, and Annie didn’t answer, so I brought her inside my apartment. I’m allergic to cats but I kept her with me because I know how much she means to her.” He rubs his neck. “Who is this gentleman, Annie?”
“He’s my…bo—”
“Boyfriend,” I finish her answer. “I’m her boyfriend.”
His reaction to that is exactly what I expect. Angry, disappointed rejection is hard to mask. “You never told me about any boyfriend.” His face gets red but he holds my eyes with his crazy ones. “Why didn’t you mention him last weekend when you were over for dinner?”
Oh, hell no. He wants to challenge me. Game on, motherfucker. “Sweetheart, go get Joan Wick.”
I see her in my periphery as she opens his door, and I hear her relieved sob immediately. “My baby, there you are. Are you okay?”
“Take her to your place and close the door behind you.”
She does as I say without argument, which in and of itself speaks volumes. It tells me she has no desire to defend this guy, and that she’s glad he thinks she’s mine.
So far, he’s number one on my suspect list.
He rolls his shoulders and tries to move, but I shake my head. “Stay.”
“I don’t know who you think you are, but I’m warning you not to touch me again, or else.”
Ignoring his idle threat, I cross my arms. “If there’s anything you want to tell me about your involvement with Joan Wick going missing, or anything at all that has to do with Annie, I suggest you do it now.”
“I don’t believe I have anything else to say to you.” He turns his nose up at me.
“Every time someone tells me that, it’s usually because they have a lot to say and something to hide.” I tilt my head. “Do you have something to hide, neighbor?”
“Is this official police business?”
That makes me chuckle. “No, because I’m not a cop.” I lower my voice and poke him in the chest. “But if I find out you’ve done more than just make a fool of yourself to get her attention, you’ll wish I was.”