Against The Wall (8 page)

She wasn’t scared of him anymore. Not the way she had been initially. Clearly there was more to Tanner than he let on and whether she liked it or not, she’d made a deal with him. He said he’d help get her family back and she needed help.

“Let me ask a different question since that one stumped both of you,” Victor said. “How far away is the bed he’ll be sleeping in tonight?”

Again she locked eyes with Tanner. His were dark, intense.

Her parent’s Hancock Park house was twenty minutes away. A little closer than his hotel.

“Twenty minutes,” she said at the same time he said, “thirty minutes.”

“Perfect.” The medic w frustrationataytoielded another needle and pumped it into Tanner’s arm.

“What the hell was that?” Tanner snapped.

“Sedative. With your size and the amount I gave you, you’ve got about twenty minutes before you’ll be out on your ass. I suggest you hurry home.”

“Goddammit, Victor, I didn’t want a fucking sedative.” Tanner sat up and swayed. Victor steadied him with a grip on his arm.

“I know and I don’t usually give ’em.” He smiled again, his eyes gleaming. “It’s just my little way of slowing down your stupidity. You can thank me later and you can consider this
my
thank you for watching Chino’s back.”

Victor helped Jess get Tanner into the car, and she drove fast and furious toward the home she grew up in. Tanner looked dazed, out of his element. Now was as good a time as any to ask the question that had been burning in her head for a while.

“What did Maurice have to do with you going to prison?”

Tanner rested his head against the back of the seat. “He hired me a real good lawyer. A lawyer so good he made absolutely certain I’d go to prison instead of Alex.”

“Alex is—was Maurice’s son, right? He died about a year before Maurice hired me.” Jess had only seen pictures of the man. He’d been in his early twenties when he died. From what Jess had discovered, he’d overdosed and it had devastated Maurice.

“Bingo,” Tanner said. “He was also my best friend. My best friend who robbed a convenience store and let me drive away without saying a word. I had no idea when the cops stopped us that I was going away for the next seven years. Juneau made sure Alex got off and pinned the whole thing on me.”

“Oh my God,” Jess whispered. The idea appalled her. Having seven years of his life taken from him…hard to comprehend. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…me too.” His chuckle surprised her and Jess looked over to see him shake his head. “Alex was fucking nuts. He lived life on the edge. Was always looking for the next high. I’d never met anyone like him.” Tanner’s words slowed as the drug settled in. The hard edge in his eyes disappeared as a smile curved his lips and softened the hard planes of his face. “I remember one time, Alex got us into a bar downtown. He just slipped the bouncer some bills and we cruised in like we owned the place. God, what a night we had…” His smile dimmed. “He almost always got what he wanted.”

“Almost?” Jess took advantage of the sedative working in his bloodstream.

“He never got his daddy’s attention.” Tanner leaned his head against the seat. “Not until the trial.” Tanner didn’t say anything else. What was the point? His best friend had let him take the fall. No wonder the man was filled with rage.

Jess pulled up to her house just in time. Tanner could barely keep his eyes open. She tucked the car into the garage and helped him out, slinging his arm around her neck and wed around her waist and pulluratging her shoulder under his armpit. The man was a bona fide tank, made of solid muscle. He weighed a ton.

Opening the side door brought back the terror. The sheer panic of walking in yesterday—except now it was officially two days ago—and finding the house bloody and demolished. She’d cleaned what she could, but the destruction was evident in the red spots on the carpet and the dents in the walls.

Jess barely got Tanner into her brother’s room before he passed out. Eric had a double bed, but Tanner filled it with his huge body. He didn’t look any less dangerous with his eyes closed and body prone in sleep. She hirt.

Chapter Seven

Tanner heard them coming, felt his pulse rev. He canted his head, saw four of them this time. All big, bald, ugly and tattooed within an inch of their lives. He wouldn’t come away unscathed. But he wouldn’t die. Not today. At least he hoped not.

Dark clouds covered the sun and made the dry desert scenery stark. Barren. Dirt, cactus and tumbleweeds didn’t compare to the lush green Colorado mountains where he’d grown up. The prison fence closed around him, afforded no way out. But how many times had this happened in the past four years? How many times would it happen until they left him alone? Or killed him. The answers really didn’t matter. The one important thing that kept him focused was survival. He had to survive to even the score.

The first one attacked. Tanner ducked and all but threw him over his head. A second one grabbed his arms from behind and Tanner used him as leverage to kick another in the chest. He did the same with a different guy took a job in the public defenderan St. Johnm, but this time the force took him backward into the man behind him and they tumbled to hard-packed earth. Tanner turned and shoved his forearm under the man’s throat, cut off his air.

Sweat popped out on Tanner’s forehead, slicked his arms as he gasped for breath. With a little more pressure he could make sure this guy never bothered him again.

Someone beat on his back, a feeble attempt to get his attention considering how he’d taken all these men down. Pain lanced his side and he groaned, but kept the man pinned. A second blow to the same area had him rolling over in agony. He fell. The ground disappeared and his body slammed against hard surface, jolting him.

Tanner’s eyes snapped open. He was on a wood floor, breathing hard. Early dawn barely lit the room. His side throbbed like hell and pain rumbled across his body. A ceiling fan hummed softy and circulated cool air over his sweat-coated skin. Tangled sheets draped off the bed. A tall oak bookshelf sat next to a similar desk along the wall in front of him. On his right, a mirrored closet door reflected the beating he’d taken last night at the hands of Juneau’s men. He didn’t recognize the room as he sat up on his elbows.

But he recognized the woman huddled in the far corner, her eyes wide, glassy with tears and a hand over her throat.

“Jess…” He whispered her name, barely got it out as the entire picture cleared in his brain. He’d been dreaming. Dreaming of a fight…of choking a man. But shit. Instead of strangling a man in his dreams, he’d almost killed Jess. “Jesus, Holy fuck, Jess?” He made a move toward her on his hands and knees and she held up a wobbly hand, warning him back, shaking her head. The terror in her eyes decimated him. He sat, took a deep breath. “Goddammit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I don’t want t—” He dropped his head in his hands, shame swamping him the way it usually did when he fucked up. Just as quickly he forced another look at her.

She nodded as one slow tear streaked down her face. She pointed to his side. “I opened up your wound.” Her gravelly voice whispered over the quiet room. Blood stained the fingers she pointed with and Tanner looked at his side. She’d grabbed him or punched him to get him off her. Smart girl. “You were dreaming,” she whispered. “I tried to wake you up and you…you…”

Attacked her. He’d attacked her in her own home. She’d saved his life last night and he’d repaid her by nearly choking her to death.

Tanner fell back against the floor. He should never have touched her, or taken her out of that soundstage. The day he got his gun, he should have used it on himself. But he’d wanted to use it on Juneau first.

“I’m sorry,” Tanner murmured. He covered his eyes with an arm, couldn’t look at her. “I’m sorry.” Sorry he’d shot her. Sorry he’d made her part of his twisted scheme to get Juneau. Sorry he’d barged into her life like a runaway train. It took a minute, but he finally faced the music and sat up. She hadn’t moved from her spot in the corner, but her eyes were clear. A thick red line the size of his arm marked her neck and fresh guilt ate him up.

“Does that happen a lot?” Her brows quirked up in a leery muttered from across the room. mt him arch.

“The dreams?” Or nearly killing an innocent woman? She nodded and he owed her the truth. “Yeah. The dreams happen a lot. But I’ve never attacked anyone because of them before. I’d like to say this was a first and a last.”

Her eyes widened a fraction before she swallowed and slowly stood. “Next time I’ll poke you with a broom stick or something,”

Tanner almost grinned. She hadn’t asked him to leave or made him feel worse. She’d made a joke. A minute ago, he doubted anything would make him feel better, but she’d managed to take the edge off. “That might be a good idea,” he said.

“Or maybe I’ll throw a bucket of water over you.”

That single sentence took him back more than ten years. To the time he and his sisters were washing the family cars for extra money. The girls had ganged up on him and dumped a bucket of cold, soapy water over his back. He’d retaliated by spraying them with the hose. His dad had stormed out of the house, yelling for them stop. He’d confiscated the hose and lined them all up on the driveway. They’d all been sure they were going to be grounded for a month, but with a wicked grin, Dad stated. “He who controls the hose is master.” Then he’d doused them all senseless. The ensuing water fight had lasted a solid hour with massive bouts of squawking, squealing and yelping. Tanner couldn’t remember a time he’d laughed harder.

Pushing the memory from his mind, he nodded. He might’ve smiled at Jess’s wry statement, but felt like too much of a scumbag. “Are you okay?”

“I think so. I’m sorry I hurt your side. We should check the stitches.”

Tanner saw the blood on his shirt. Not a lot, but it had seeped through the bandages. They’d need to be changed and he’d need Jess to help him. The minute she put her soft little hands on him, his cock would jump, grow rock hard and he’d be in a different kind of pain the rest of the day.

Fuck that.

“I can do it. I need to get used to changing them myself anyway. I’ll let you know how it looks.”

She eyed him suspiciously and slowly shook her head. “No, you won’t.” He started to protest and she cut him off. “Oh, you’ll change the bandages, but you won’t tell me if you need more stitches. I have a feeling Victor was right. None of his patients want to go back to him anytime soon.” Jess eased by him. “He gave me extra bandages last night. I’ll get them for you.”

She’d nearly moved past him when Tanner snagged her ankle with his hand. She froze.

He looked up, caught her gaze. That same energy that bounced between them yesterday sizzled up again now. Even through her jeans he felt the tensile strength of her leg. She was tough. Tougher than he’d pegged her for when he’d first seen her arguing with Juneau. The longer he spent with her, the more she impressed him. His sisters would’ve approved and they’d always been tough critics when it came to the girls he’d brought home. Not that he ever planned to bring someone ho every member of your familyt "me again.

But she stared down at him now and he said, “I’m really sorry.”

Jess nodded. “I know.” She eased her leg from his grasp and left him on the floor.

____________

An hour later, the doorbell chimed. Tanner had refused Jess’s help and cleaned his wound himself. He assured her she hadn’t pulled out any stitches, but it didn’t make her feel better. It was crazy but she felt guilty that she’d hurt him. Grabbing his side had been the only thing she could think of to get him off her. He’d taken her down so fast…pulled her beneath him on the bed with lightning speed. She fought back a shudder remembering his strength, the way he could’ve snapped her like a twig. That was one lesson hard learned, but she wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. She rarely did.

They’d been discussing her plan to snag Maurice. It seemed too simple to work, but Jess figured that’s what made it a possibility.

Now, Jess went to the door, leery because of the early hour. Who’d be at the door at six in the morning? Tanner followed her, staying low and out of sight from the front windows. She checked the peephole but didn’t see anybody and after opening the door a fraction, she spotted a small brown box on the doorstep. Clear tape kept it closed and her name was printed neatly across the top. A wave of dread cycled through her stomach. Small boxes delivered by invisible people? Not good.

With a trembling hand, she took the package and locked the door, showing Tanner as she headed into the kitchen for a knife. “No return address,” she told him.

“I didn’t think there would be,” he said. “Here, let me.” He set the box on the table, took the knife and sliced open the top, careful not to upset the contents. He peeled back the cardboard and a note lay on the brown tissue paper.

Tanner picked it up by the corner and read. “A token to remind you of what’s at stake.” He swallowed and looked at her before pulling back the tissue paper.

Jess tried to make sense of what she saw. Three familiar earrings, but something else… Oh God. Her stomach heaved. They were Brendan’s earrings. Along with flesh and blood. Part of an earlobe was still attached to the jewelry.
Brendan’s
earlobe. Jess ran for the kitchen sink, her gut churning with nausea, bile thick in her throat. Despair hit so hard she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

How could this be happening? Why did such sick people exist in the world?

Anger flared and pushed over despair. She hated Maurice for putting her and her family in this position. But she hated Facinetti more. He was an animal. She’d do anything to see him go down. Jess got control of her nerves and the dry heaves stopped. She wiped tears fiercely from her cheeks before turning to Tanner.