Against The Wall (17 page)

Hell, Tanner hadn’t known she’d had his gun. They’d both dismissed her, hadn’t even glanced at her. Who’d have thought Jess would pick up a gun, much less pull the trigger?

She lifted her head, her face tear-streaked and swollen. “What did you do?” she asked, accusation in her tone. “Did you purposely let him go? Did you
want
to fight him?”

What?
“No!” Tanner bit out. “You saw him. He jumped me when you opened the door. He sawed those fucking cuffs off on his own.” Speaking of sawing, for the first time, Tanner acknowledged the wetness dampening his shirt. He tugged at the collar of his ripped T-shirt to see the bloody line from the screwdriver. Juneau had sliced across his shoulder on his first attack. Fuck. He stripped off his shirt, grabbed the nearest dishcloth, and wiped up most of the blood.

“Oh, God,” Jess said, already in another panic. “You’re bleeding.” Her face went another shade paler as she got to her feet. “I didn’t know you were bleeding.” She reached for the wall for support.

Tanner grabbed her shoulders, shook her a little. “I’m okay, Jess. Take a deep breath. I promise, I’m okay.”

“You need stitches,” she murmured. All color drained from her face just as it had when she’d spotted the bullet hole in Maurice’s head. He’d seen it immediately. Had known in a second the man was dead. He’d been surprised, but his concern belonged to Jess.

She swayed.

Uh, oh. Tanner caught her and moved her into the den, onto the giant brown leather sofa in the middle of the room. Four ottomans tucked into the U-shaped sofa and made a huge bed. He laid her down, stuck a couple of pillows under her knees. “Stay here a sec. Don’t move.”

Now was his chance to go back to the studio. Jess was too out of it to follow or ask questions and he didn’t want her going in there again. He needed to see what the police were going to see when they found the scene. There was too much DNA in there to cover this up about youatayto. It was only a matter of time before the truth came out.

Tanner surveyed the room. Juneau was just how they’d left him, staring blindly ahead. The bullet had entered neatly and left a hole, but only a little blood trailed near the wound. The damage inside had to be pretty massive for the outside to be so neat. Tanner had heard that once. A bloody wound sometimes meant the damage inside wasn’t as critical. On the other hand, very little blood on the outside, didn’t bode well for the injured party.

Not that Juneau was injured. He was just very dead.

Tanner found a rolled up blanket and spread it over Juneau. He spotted the screwdriver, but didn’t pick it up. He studied the flat end, as deadly as any knife blade. Juneau must have found it on the floor. There was no other explanation. Tanner didn’t want to disturb the scene. Yeah, they may have brought Juneau here against his will and Tanner may have wanted him dead, but it wouldn’t have happened if Juneau hadn’t attacked him. It had been self-defense and Juneau’s handprints on the screwdriver and his gun would prove it. So would the slice on Tanner’s shoulder and so would the ding in the guitar where the bullet ricocheted. Tanner wouldn’t have cared, but the fact that Jess had pulled the trigger changed everything. On his way out the door, Tanner turned up the AC to keep Juneau’s body from decomposing quicker than necessary.

Tanner leaned against the closed door. Let the sun shine down on him. He hadn’t gotten any answers. He’d wanted information from Juneau and now he had nothing. He’d wanted confirmation that Juneau had paid his lawyer to see him go to prison. He’d wanted a little regret from Juneau. Yeah, so that wouldn’t have happened, but Tanner had still wanted to make Juneau sweat just as he had every day in that rotten prison.

He had no feelings for Juneau. At the moment, his concern lay fully with Jess. She’d done something he’d wanted to do with all his heart and she hurt for it. She’d agonize over it. Tanner wouldn’t be able to tell her that it was no great loss, because killing Juneau meant the loss of her family.

Unless they came up with another plan.

Tanner entered the house and found Jess where he’d left her. She stared up at him, her eyes wet. “I f-fucked up,” she whispered.

He hadn’t heard her swear until now. Obviously it wasn’t something she did often. If ever.

This was bad. He got that. She looked desolate. Destroyed. Her eyes glowed amber in her pale face and the familiar feeling of helplessness washed through Tanner. A feeling he’d lived with for years when it came to himself, but one he had harder time reconciling when it came to this woman.

Her gaze shifted to his shoulder and she sat up. “C’mon, we need to fix you.”

“Just hang tight a minute and get yourself together. It’s not bad,” he said, swiping at the cut with the dishcloth.

“Don’t treat me like a child.” The steely look she shot him blazed anger. “I can see what’s in front of my eyes and you need help.” She moved off the sofa and left him to follow her. She disappeared inside the walk in,” Maurice said.t him kitchen pantry.

With the dishcloth soaked in blood, Tanner opened drawers and looked for something else to place on his shoulder. He found something better. Krazy Glue.

Chino had told him how his brother used it in emergency situations. That it was originally intended to put the skin back together but found wider use for everything else. No reason not to test the theory. After a last wipe with the dishcloth, Tanner pieced the skin together and spread the glue along the seam.

Jess came back from the pantry with a red first aid kit. “What are you doing?” She took a closer look at his shoulder then at the glue on the table. “You didn’t do what I think you did, did you?” Anger laced her voice and Tanner held back his smile. There was something so fresh and innocent about Jess that even now, when they should’ve been shitting bricks and figuring out what to do with Juneau’s body, she was making him grin.

Fishing in the kit, Tanner found some bandages in case the Krazy Glue didn’t work.

Jess slapped his hand away. “Let me do it. You’re all thumbs. Sit here,” she ordered, pulling up a nearby stool from the center island. She adjusted the bandages and Tanner struggled not to breathe her in. She smelled like flowers, like spring. Like something he didn’t deserve. Her fingers fluttered over his skin, heated him up. He looked away from her, over her, anywhere but at her, because if he gazed into her eyes, all bets were off. It didn’t matter that a dead man lay in her converted kept touching him so tenderly, kept wafting her soft breath near his ear while she worked, he was going to explode.

Adrenaline already had him hard as a post. Having her so close didn’t help one damn bit. She made his condition worse, made him hunger with uncontrollable need. Just when Tanner reached his limit, when he meant to take her in his arms, she pulled back, slammed the top of the kit down and stalked away.

“I have to think of something.” She paced the big kitchen.
“Think.”
She kicked the big stainless steel garbage can. Her denial had turned to anger. About time. She should’ve been this angry from the beginning, but fear had been her driving force.

Tanner had been angry so long he hardly knew any other emotion. Except lust maybe. The last day had him very much thinking about lust. And sex. Hard driving, sweat inducing, lusty sex. He turned his back to her, faced the open part of the spacious kitchen, because if he watched her much longer, he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands or certain other body parts to himself.

A definite silence stilled the air and Tanner looked over his shoulder. Jess watched him with narrow eyes and hands on her hips. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.” Which was the truth. But he sure as hell could walk right out her door and leave everything behind him. He got what he wanted even if it wasn’t the way he wanted it. Juneau was dead and Tanner could move on.

Except leaving Jess didn’t seem like an option. Not one he wanted anyway.

“I told you I’d help you and I intend to.”

“Why?” Quick and to the point. The girl didn’t fuck around. “What’s in it for you?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know.” Maybe it was time he did something proactive instead of destructive. Hadn’t he been sabotaging himself the last eight years of his life? First by hanging out with Alex, then putting his future in Juneau’s hands by letting him hire his lawyer, and lastly by alienating his whole family by ignoring them while he sat in prison.

Maybe he just liked being around a woman. Maybe he liked watching the way she walked, the way her ass swayed. Or maybe it was her smell, or the whiskey color of her eyes. Hell, no maybes about it. Everything about her turned him on.

“Well you might want to figure it out, because I’m up shit’s creek without a paddle and I need somebody I can count on. If that’s not you, then get out.” Did she intend to cut him loose and start fresh by herself?

Tanner rose and stood in her path as she glared up at him. “Why the hell are you so mad at me? I didn’t free Juneau and I didn’t kill him.” A low blow. One he instantly regretted.

Her chin quivered and that’s all it took for the slime ball feeling to swamp Tanner’s chest. The pain in her eyes cut him soul deep.

“You son of a bitch,” she cried. She was hurting and he had no clue how to help. She hit him, slammed her palm against his chest and didn’t stop. Tears streamed down her face as she let loose with her small fists. Tanner let her pound him. He deserved it. She wanted a fight and he wanted to die. He hadn’t meant to hurt her physically or emotionally and he’d done both. He took every blow she delivered. A few of them packed more punch than he’d have given her credit for, but he didn’t stop her.

Finally, breathing hard, she wore herself out. The violence didn’t faze him, but when she sank against him, when she buried her face in his chest and cried… That knocked him out. Broke through every barrier he’d ever erected.

His arms went around her. He didn’t intend to do it, but there they stood in her parents’ kitchen, holding onto each other as if the world might end any second. Her crying slowed and eventually stopped. She pulled back and looked up at him.

Tanner’s mistake was looking into her eyes. Seeing all that pain and not caring how he might hurt her again. Jess’s mistake was looking at his lips, inviting something that would ignite and blow out of control with very little prompting. She gazed into his eyes again, offered a clear invitation when she rose on her toes, slanted her head to the side and spread her warm hands on his chest. Tanner met her halfway, brushed his lips against hers, tasted the salt of her tears and the desperation of the day.

Desperate.

That word described them both. She was desperate for help and he was desperate for relief. Desperate for the warmth of her skin and the comfort of her hot body.

His control broke.

Tanner pulled her close, trapped her lips beneath his and took what he wanted. She didn’t fight him. Goddammit, she,” Maurice said.t him should be fighting him. She should be scrambling to get away, because if she didn’t, she was going to be in way over her head. Instead she was clawing to get closer. He palmed her head, drove his tongue into her mouth and tasted the mints she chewed like an addiction. He ran his hands along the sides of her body, felt the hot little curves that had been driving him wild.

She moaned and the sound vibrated into his body, made him hotter. He lifted her against his erection, pushed the small of her back so she felt exactly what was coming her way if she didn’t fucking fight him.

But no, she moaned again and Tanner felt his insides snap. He couldn’t do this to her. Not after she’d saved his life. He would hurt her and she didn’t deserve that. Tanner releastudio, if she

Chapter Thirteen

Tanner soaked her in. From her hot mouth and voracious tongue to her tight little body and curvy ass. He couldn’t keep his hands off her. Couldn’t keep his tongue from exploring her mouth. He planned on tasting every inch of her. He backed her up against the kitchen wall, rubbing against her as if just the motion might ease his desire.

Not a chance in hell.

He should slow down. He had her, she’d all but demanded it of him, so he should back off and go slower, but he’d told her he wouldn’t be able to stop and he’d been right. He wanted to drive himself so deeply inside her that it wiped out the last seven years of his miserable life. He wanted salvation in her body. He wanted to feel alive.

He couldn’t wait to touch all of her skin. He wanted to feel her with his hands, his mouth, his tongue. He wanted to hear all the sounds that went with taking a woman. He wanted her moans, her gasps, wanted her screaming his name and digging her nails into his skin.

He wasted no time in stripping off her T-shirt. The bandage was a reminder of the night they met, but it was the sight of her full, pert breasts hidden under a white lace bra that stopped him for a second. He moved his palms up her sides, pulled the cups down and touched her, thumbed her tight nipples and groaned.

Tanner unhooked the back of her bra as he sucked one hard peak into his mouth. She gasped, arched into him and sent him further out of control. He wasn’t going to last. He needed her now, needed her hard and fast. But he had to touch her, had to explore all the places he’d been dreaming about.

Dropping to his knees, he made quick work of the button and zipper on her jeans. He stripped them over her hips, down to the floor. “Step out,” he ordered, his voice guttural, not his own. He shoved the discarded jeans and her shoes aside and held her hips. Her bikini underwear molded her body. She was so fucking tiny.