Against the Night (19 page)

He’d do that much, but this wasn’t his case and he was spending department time on a matter that shouldn’t have involved him. He was supposed to be investigating a homicide down on Sunset that appeared to be gang-related.

But there was something about this case that bothered him, something that niggled the back of his mind but stayed just out of reach. He told himself to mind his own business, that he needed to refocus, stay away from the Brewer case.

Rick was determined to convince himself.

Johnnie stood at the far end of the bar talking to Tate Watters. A man in his late forties, when his hair had begun to thin, Tate had had a transplant, which had only half-ass worked. Now his head was covered with little spikes of hair in what looked like corn rows. Aside from that, with his slender build and blue eyes, he wasn’t bad-looking, and amazingly enough, he was happily married to a lady named Linda who kept his account books.

“I hear you’re helping Amy look into what happened to her sister,” Tate said.

Hearing Amy’s real name jerked Johnnie’s attention away from where Angel danced, moving as if she owned the stage and every man in the room.

His head whipped toward Watters. “What’d you just say?”

One of Tate’s dark eyebrows went up. “You didn’t think I knew her real name? I know everything that happens in this place. I knew as soon as I met her. She looks nothing like Rachael, but they both have a way about them. The way they move, the way they walk. And Angel was way too interested in what had happened to Silky Summers. It wasn’t hard to find out who she really was.”

Johnnie looked hard at Tate. “The fewer people who know the better. We still don’t know what happened to Rachael. Angel asks too many questions and somebody might decide to shut her up.”

Tate’s blue eyes shifted toward the stage. “I’m with you there. I’ve tried to keep an eye on her. I put her on the early shift as much as I can, but I don’t want the other girls to think I’m playing favorites.”

“Which you are.”

“A little. These women expect me to protect them. Somehow I let Rachael down.”

“There’ve been rumors she was seeing Manny Ortega. You know who he is?”

“The drug lord’s son? Haven’t seen him in here. Guy does his best to protect his reputation. Since he can’t escape the connection to his family, it hasn’t done him much good.”

“So he didn’t come in to see Rachael.”

“No. She didn’t date much. At least not that I know of. Rachael wanted to be a star and she had the talent and brains to make it happen.”

Johnnie looked back at the stage. Amy hadn’t spotted him, which gave him a chance to watch her without completely losing it. She was a really good dancer, lithe, graceful, sensuous. Every movement spoke of pure, unadulterated sex and every man in the place wanted to carry her off over his shoulder.

Johnnie was one of them.

Worse yet, he didn’t want her dancing for anyone but him. He didn’t want the other men to lust after her the way he did. He tried to separate the nearly naked woman onstage from the sweet little schoolteacher who had shared his bed, but it wasn’t working.

He ground his jaw, told himself he had no say over her. Still…

“Looks like trouble’s brewing,” Tate said, his gaze sweeping over the crowd of men to a group in the middle of the room who were starting to shove back their chairs. Tate started walking. “If I hear anything useful, I’ll let you know.”

Johnnie watched the club owner make his way toward the men pushing and shoving, yelling obscenities near the front of the stage. Across the room, the big Asian bouncer, Bo Jing, was also walking toward the men.

The show came to a close and Angel disappeared offstage, heading upstairs to change.

Johnnie watched the scuffle that broke into a full-blown Donnybrook and smiled, glad for once he wasn’t in the middle of it.

Bo Jing gripped one guy by the back of the neck, grabbed another the same way and started hauling them toward the door, one in each massive hand. Tate was reading another guy the riot act. From the corner of his eye, Johnnie saw Babs rushing toward him and he didn’t like the look on her face.

“Johnnie! Some guy’s got Angel—”

Johnnie was on his feet and running. Babs pointed toward the backstage area where girls started and ended their shows; he ran past her, and Babs fell in right behind him.

“I think he might have forced her into the equipment room!” Babs shouted as he charged in that direction.

There was a sign printed on the door in big black letters Employees Only. When he shoved the door open, he saw Angel struggling beneath the weight of the slick-looking muscle jock Johnnie had seen sitting alone at one of the tables. He had her on her back, sprawled over a workbench, and was fumbling with his zipper. Johnnie’s vision turned red.

“You lowlife prick! Get away from her!” Before he realized he had moved, he was dragging the man off Amy, slamming a fist into his face. He brought his knee up hard into the guy’s privates, and the jerk let out a shriek of pain. Johnnie didn’t stop. He hit him and hit him and hit him. When the man crashed into a heap on the floor, Johnnie grabbed him by the hair, dragged his head up and hit him again. He wanted to hurt him, wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp. He wanted to kill him.

“Johnnie! Johnnie, please stop!” Amy’s voice, high-pitched and nearly hysterical, finally cut through his rage. When he glanced over to where she stood, he saw that she was trembling, the little red pasties missing from her nipples, her arms hugging her chest in a futile attempt to cover herself.

Johnnie stepped over the unconscious man on the floor, reached for her and folded her into his arms.

He forced himself to breathe. “It’s all right, baby, I’ve got you. You’re okay. You’re safe.”

“Johnnie…” She melted against him and just hung on. She was crying and shaking and he wanted to destroy the man who had tried to hurt her.

“It’s all right,” he whispered into her ear. “It’s all right.”

Babs rushed in, carrying a red silk dressing robe and wrapped it around Amy.

“Honey, are you okay?” Babs asked. “He didn’t…he didn’t hurt you, did he?”

Amy shook her head. Her eyes filled. “Johnnie got here in time.” She swallowed and glanced away, tears rolling down her cheeks.

Johnnie eased her back into his arms. “You don’t have to cry. You’re safe. You’re with me.”

Amy swallowed. Still shaking, she hung on for a couple of seconds longer, took a deep breath and straightened away from him, pulling the sash on her robe a little tighter.

“I’m…I’m okay.”

“Should we call the police?” Babs asked. “The boss won’t like it. Tate has his own way of handling guys like these. Usually saves the cops a lot of trouble.”

Tate Watters stormed into the tiny room, which was getting more and more crowded. He took in the scene in an instant. Then Bo Jing appeared in the doorway, filling it completely.

“You all right?” Tate asked Amy.

She wet her trembling lips. “Johnnie came just in time.”

Tate looked down at the man on the floor. “This the scum who assaulted you?”

Amy nodded. “I saw him out in the audience. I didn’t see him disappear but he was waiting backstage when I came off. Bo Jing is usually there but he was helping you with the fight out front.”

Tate turned to the massive Asian standing a few feet away. “Get this piece of shit out of here. Make sure he never comes back.”

“You got it, boss.”

Johnnie didn’t have to ask how the massive man was going to manage that. He was pretty sure he knew.

Bo lifted the guy as if he were a kitten, tossed him over his shoulder and did a fireman’s carry out the door.

Tate turned to Amy. “Tomorrow’s your day off. Why don’t you take an extra day? You’ll feel better after a little time away from this place.”

“Good idea,” Johnnie agreed, thinking if he had his way, the extra day off was going to escalate into a week, then the rest of the summer.

He wanted Angel Fontaine’s dancing career to end.

Maybe after what had almost happened, Amy would realize he was right and give up trying to help him find her sister.

He grunted. Good luck with that.

Seventeen

For the second time, she had nearly been raped. Her run-in with Kyle Bennett had been frightening, but tonight had been a real eye-opener. Even in the club, with men like Tate and Bo Jing to watch out for the girls, she wasn’t really safe.

She looked over at Johnnie, who stared straight ahead as he drove his Mustang up the hill to the guesthouse. After demanding she go with him and refusing to take no for an answer, he hadn’t said three words since they’d left the parking lot.

She knew he was angry. What had happened, he believed, was partly her fault.

“You shouldn’t have been there in the first place,” he growled into the silence between them, proving she was right. “You can’t get a roomful of men all hot and bothered and not expect sooner or later some jackass will act on his urges.”

“It’s my job. Lots of women do it.”

“Women with a lot more street savvy than you have. If that bastard had gone after Babs, his balls would be aching a lot more than they are right now. Christ, you don’t even know how to defend yourself.”

She looked up at him. “That’s not true. I’ve had self-defense classes.”

He scoffed. “Yeah? Well, why didn’t you try to defend yourself tonight?”

She glanced away. Why hadn’t she? “For one thing, it’s been a long time since I took the course. And Bo is usually there to watch out for us when we come off stage. Tonight he was busy, and the guy took me by surprise.”

“So if you’d realized the bastard was going to attack you, you would have been prepared.”

“Yes. Plus I would have been a lot more prepared if I had been wearing clothes.”

His dark eyes ran over her and made her think of sex, which after what had happened, should have been the last thing on her mind.

He pulled into his garage and they got out of the car and walked into the house. She had changed into jeans and a T-shirt before they left the club and brought a small overnight bag he had insisted she pack to get her through the next two days.

She wasn’t sure what Johnnie expected from her tonight.

She wasn’t sure what she wanted from him.

Instead of going into the living room, he carried her bag down the hall and dropped it off in the master bedroom.

“Come on,” he said, urging her toward the stairs leading to the level below. She followed him down, waited while he turned on the lights. Taking her hand, he led her across the room, which was the size of the entire upstairs, over to where he had set up a home gym.

There was all kinds of workout equipment—a treadmill and weights, a padded mat stretched out on the floor in front of the big picture windows that looked out over the city.

Johnnie led her up onto the mat, then turned to face her. “Okay, I’m going to attack you. You’ve got fair warning—let’s see what you can do.”

“Are you crazy?”

Apparently he was because he dove for her, took her down easily on the thick foam pad.

“I thought you said you knew self-defense.”

Amy gritted her teeth as she pushed to her feet. “I said I’d had classes. I also said I was out of practice.”

“Let’s try it again.”

He came in the same way he had before. Amy grunted as he took her easily down to the mat. But her limited training was beginning to come back to her. Mr. Stevens, the gym teacher who taught the class, was very determined that each of his female students learn to protect herself.

“That’s okay,” Johnnie said. “Tomorrow I’ll show you some moves.”

Amy accepted the hand he offered and let him pull her to her feet. “Try it again,” she said.

A little tilt of amusement curved his lips. “You sure?”

“Come on. Do it again.”

She splayed her legs, readied herself. She wouldn’t have this much time to prepare for a real attack, but still…

Johnnie rushed her and she braced herself. At the last second, she sidestepped, letting his momentum carry him toward the mat, whirled and kicked him in the stomach as he went down.

An
ooof
of surprise escaped.

“Oh, my God, I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Johnnie just grinned. “Okay, that was better. Here, let’s try this.” He turned her around. “Pretend I’m coming at you from behind.”

Amy braced herself, felt the heavy movement of his feet on the mat. He came up fast and she almost missed her chance, but her hours in class were finally coming back to her. A last-minute duck and twist, and she pitched him over her shoulder.

Johnnie sprawled on the mat looking stunned. “I can’t believe it.”

With a triumphant smile, Amy clamped her hands on her hips. “I told you I had classes.”

Johnnie bounced effortlessly to his feet. “So you did.” He looked her over, head to foot. “You’re so damned little you’re gonna have to be ruthless if you want to stay safe. Pretend I’m coming at you head-on.”

She knew what to do. “No way. I’m supposed to gouge out your eyes or slap my hands over your ears to break your eardrums. Sorry, but I’m not going to do that.”

He came in anyway, caught her around the waist and dragged her hard against him. “Try it.”

“No!” What she really wanted to do was kiss him, not hurt him.

“Do it, damn it!”

He made her just mad enough. She went for his ears but he blocked the blow. She went for his eyes, but he knocked her hands away.

“Good girl. With a little more practice you might just have a chance.” That said, he knocked her legs out from under her, dropping her down on the mat and came down on top of her, careful to keep most of his weight on his elbows so he wouldn’t hurt her.

“Like I said, you need practice, but I have to give you credit, you know a lot more than most women.”

Amy barely heard the words. With his powerful body pressing her down on the mat, all she could think of was how it had felt when both of them were naked. She moistened her lips and his gaze fixed on her mouth. His eyes glinted, darkened. His breathing quickened and she realized he was aroused.

Amy reached up and slid her arms around his neck, pulled his head down for a kiss, and Johnnie kissed her back. He tasted yeasty from the beer he’d drunk, and smelled like soap and man. Her insides went hot. She could feel the bulge of his erection behind the fly of his jeans, remembered how good it had felt when he was inside her.