Bare It All (24 page)

Cash whined at the door, giving Reese the perfect distraction.
“He has impeccable timing.”

“He’s wonderful,” Alice whispered. “Like you.”

“Speaking of wonderful...” After levering off her, Reese sat on
the side of the bed and rested a hand on her thigh. “That was...straight out of
a fantasy.” He brushed his thumb over her silky skin. “Thank you.”

Her smile looked a little sad, but she stretched and then sat
up. “It’s still early. Want to go watch a movie with Cash?”

He’d had a shit day that had put him in a shittier mood—until
he’d gotten home to Alice. And now, after being with her, he felt...content.

Very soon, he needed to tell her how he felt, maybe get her
input on a house for Cash.

He also needed to expose drug dealers who were heinous enough
to tattoo women the same way ranchers branded their cattle. He had to protect
Alice from men corrupt enough to kill a woman rather than let her escape.

But for right now, tonight, Alice and Cash would fill a void he
hadn’t known existed until only recently.

“That sounds perfect.” He smiled at her. “As long as I get to
pick the movie.”

* * *

F
OR
OVER
A
week he’d waited,
spending many sleepless nights drenched in the sweat of his own worry. Hour upon
hour, he’d sat in his car, afraid to leave, eating cold fast food and pissing in
a cup so that he wouldn’t miss it, if or when Cheryl finally left the safety of
her parents’ small home.

Luckily they lived in a congested area with a lot of side
streets. Each day he parked in a different spot, sunup to sundown, cursing her
and that goddamned busybody who’d interfered.

For a while there, he’d thought maybe Cheryl hadn’t gone home
after all. Or that she was so spineless, she’d never leave the house again.

Unacceptable. He had to get her.

Woody Simpson was not a man you wanted to disappoint. His wrath
was so volatile, he could kill as easy as laugh.

But now, finally, in the wee hours of the morning, Hickson saw
Cheryl as she slipped out the front door.

“Cheryl, you stupid bitch,” he muttered to himself. It was
because of her that the other one had been able to get the drop on him; because
of Cheryl that he’d been made to look like an incompetent fool.

Using Cheryl, he’d find the nosy broad who’d dared to turn the
Taser on him, and then he’d deliver her to Woody. That’d ensure she got what she
deserved.

But Hickson wanted to dole out the punishment to Cheryl. And he
would. Soon, very soon.

He started his car, staring as Cheryl walked out toward the
street. She looked jumpy, watchful.

Probably still scared after running from Woody. Hickson
snorted. Women were so fucking easy to intimidate, even easier to control.

Looking up and down the street, car keys in hand, Cheryl headed
for a little yellow Civic. Hickson didn’t see anyone else around, so he put his
windows down, pulled away from the curb and rolled right up to her.

The second he approached, she went wild-eyed and started to
run.

“Do it,” he told her, “and I’ll go talk to your family
instead.”

Big tears filled her eyes. She looked around, probably hoping
for help.

Hickson didn’t have time for her dramatics. “Call the police,
scream, make a single wrong move...” He shrugged. “And they’re dead. Every
fucking one of them. Don’t doubt it.”

The tears spilled over. “Wh-what do you want?”

“Get in the car and we’ll talk about it.”

She didn’t want to—but she also didn’t want her family
murdered. He’d been mostly bluffing about that. He didn’t mind doing what had to
be done, but he wasn’t dumb enough or reckless enough to slaughter a whole
family.

But Cheryl was too chickenshit to realize that.

Patience running thin, he leaned across the seat and shoved
open the passenger door. “Get in.
Now.
”

Shaking all over, she joined him in the car.

The second her ass hit the seat, Hickson drove off. “Shut the
goddamned door. And stop that sniveling!”

She obeyed the first but not the second.

Hickson rode to a quiet park, not stopping until he found a
secluded area. He turned to face Cheryl, looked her over. She wore jeans and a
long-sleeve T-shirt. For only a moment, that amused him. “Hiding your tat?”

She rubbed her forearm as if it still hurt. “I...I...”

“Where were you going?”

Confusion mixed with the stark terror.

“Today,” he said, impatient with her hesitation. “Just now. You
were slinking off somewhere, right? A new boyfriend?”

She shook her head hard. “No, I...” Swallowing, she swiped away
her tears and met his gaze. “I had an appointment to see a doctor.”

“Yeah?” He looked her over again, but she didn’t look sick or
hurt. “What’s wrong with you?”

That trembling chin went higher. “I was going to have the
tattoo removed.”

Anger expanded. “That’d be a big fucking mistake.” Before she
could move, Hickson grabbed her wrist, then hauled her half over the console. He
shoved up the sleeve of her shirt. “You see this? It
stays,
bitch. Do you understand me?”

Snuffling and sobbing, she fought to get away from him. Hickson
tangled a hand in her hair and held her still. Now, with her truly hysterical,
he said, “The one that helped you get away. What’s her name?”

Cheryl bawled and fought—until he tightened his hand in her
hair. “Who is she?” he demanded.

“I—I don’t know.”

He snatched up her arm—the arm covered by a long sleeve even on
what promised to be a blistering day. “Wanna do it the hard way, huh?”

“I said
I don’t know!
Alice
something. She—she never told me her last name.”

Hickson read the truth of that in her wide eyes. “All right.”
He rubbed his thumb over her wrist. “Tell me what you do know. And, Cheryl,
honey, I hope it’s enough. Otherwise you and I are going to take a nice long
drive to the river.”

Her slender throat worked before she finally got the words out.
“She—she gave me a number to call.” Frantically, Cheryl dug in her purse until
she found the scrap of paper. Hand trembling, she offered it to him.

“A number? What the hell for?”

“She said...in case I—I needed her.”

Hmm. Interesting. So the busybody had thoughts of playing in
the big league? “That just might work.” He pulled out his cell phone and offered
it to her. “Call it.”

Cheryl treated the phone as she would a two-headed snake. Hands
pulled back to her chest, her expression horrified. “What—what would I say?”

Hickson grinned. “That you need her, of course.”

“Oh.” Tentatively, Cheryl accepted the phone.

“Ask her to meet you at the bus stop across from the tattoo
parlor. And Cheryl? Pray that she agrees.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

A
LICE
WOKE
THE
next
morning in the usual way—or at least the way that had become usual now that she
had Reese and Cash in her life. Reese spooned her from behind, one brawny arm
over her waist, and even in sleep, his hand curled around her breast.

She loved his hands so much. Big and strong and so incredibly
capable, whether he cooked, brushed Cash, or drove her insane with sensual
need.

Cash rested at the foot of the bed, his head over her
ankles.

She could hear both man and dog breathing heavily in their
sleep, and a softball-sized lump of emotion lodged in her throat.

She loved them both
so
much. But
last night she’d blown it. She’d gotten so caught up in the incredible pleasure
of sex with Reese that she hadn’t uncovered his feelings about her. She hadn’t
discovered if he was in it for the long haul, if his heart had gotten as
involved as hers.

Sure, some of the things he’d said were nice. Better than nice.
But they didn’t give her a clue about a future together.

Swallowing down her worry, Alice put her hand over his,
marveling at the size of his wrist, his fingers. She touched him gently, tracing
along the seam of his middle and index finger—and suddenly felt the rise of his
interest against her rear end.

She turned her head toward him. “You’re awake?”

“Mmm.” His hand contracted carefully, caressing her. “Awake and
wondering what you’re thinking.”

Cash grumbled, snuffled away from her feet and stretched out
again with a lazy sigh.

Alice turned to face Reese. He adjusted, moving his hand around
her to her backside, pulling her half up onto his chest as he went to his back
and stretched out his free arm.

Toying with his chest hair—another thing she loved about
him—Alice said, “I was thinking how nice your hands are.”

“Mmm.” He traced the shape of one cheek, teasing her. “How nice
my hands are when they’re on you?”

“I do love that.” Levering up to his chest, Alice gave him a
long, serious look. “And I love waking up with you in the morning.”

He brought her down for a kiss. “I’m fond of that myself.”

“Before you, before this, I couldn’t imagine myself being this
comfortable. I haven’t brushed my teeth, and I have to pee, and I know my hair
is a mess.”

Reese grinned like a rascal. “Ditto on all the above.”

She smoothed down his short blond hair, now sticking up at odd
angles. Her hand automatically went to his jaw, to the beard shadow that rasped
against her fingers. “You are so natural about everything that when I’m with
you, it feels...okay.”

He put both hands on her butt. “It?”

Life, love, the entire world.
Alice
sighed. “Everything, I guess.”

“You feel safe with me.”

Very safe. Even if he didn’t love her, she knew Reese would
never purposely hurt her, and that he’d do everything in his power to protect
her. “Yes.”

“I’m glad, but Alice, I don’t want you to get too
comfortable.”

Her heart stuttered. “With you?”

Scowling, Reese did a sudden turn, and Alice found herself
under him.

He put his mouth to hers for a quick, whiskery kiss. “With me,
I always want you comfortable.
Always.
Do you
understand?”

She didn’t, not really, but she said, “I think so.”

Still looking far too grim, he searched her gaze. “You need to
continue being cautious, Alice. There are dangerous people out there—”

“There always are.”

“—who want to do you harm,” he stressed, overriding her
objection. “You have to understand the reality of what you did. By interfering
with—”

“Rescuing.”

“—Cheryl, you drew their attention. They could be looking for
you right now. Until they’re caught and their operation is shut down, you’re in
danger.”

Today, she would not get distracted. Today, she would find the
answers she needed.

Alice cupped his face. “Please, tell me, Reese. Does all this
concern mean that you—”

A cell phone rang.

With a look of confusion, Reese turned his head toward the
sound. “What is that?”

Like a dash of ice water, the sound of that particular ring
froze Alice for a few seconds. Then she pushed at Reese’s shoulders. “Move. It’s
my phone.”

“Your phone?” He gave her enough space to wriggle out from
under him. “It doesn’t sound like—”

“My
other
phone.” Worried that
she’d miss the call, Alice stretched from the bed until she got the nightstand
drawer open. On the fourth ring she finally snatched up the cell. She was very
aware of Reese going quiet beside her. “Hello?”

“Alice? It’s Cheryl. Y-you said I could call.”

Dread made her light-headed. Alice scrambled to sit up against
the headboard, her breath stuck in her throat, her stomach cramping.

Beside her, Reese came alert. “What is it?”

She put a finger to her lips, cautioning him to be quiet.
“Cheryl,” she said aloud, so Reese would know. “Is everything okay?”

Cheryl started to cry—and stammer. “Y-yes. Everything
is...”

With her free hand to her mouth, Alice held her breath.

“...just p-peachy.”

Oh, God. Alice could hear her own heartbeat in her ears. “I
see.” She didn’t dare look at Reese. If she did, she’d lose her
concentration—and her nerve. “Then I’m glad you called.”

Cheryl gasped for air. “I’d love to—to see you.”

Think,
Alice.
Don’t waste precious time. Just react.
She nodded to herself. “Are
you back in the area?”

“I can b-be. Tonight?”

Alice chewed her bottom lip. “Does it have to be tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

Cheryl would surely prefer it be sooner rather than later, but
rushing into this wouldn’t save her.

It would only put others at risk.

Reese sat up beside her, not touching her, but close enough to
let her feel his concern.

“If it could wait until tomorrow evening, that would work for
me.” And it would give Reese time to come up with a plan.
Please, God, let him have a plan.

Reese stayed silent beside her, listening, waiting.

Trusting her.

“What do you say, Cheryl? Tomorrow evening?”

“I don’t... Let me check my...my schedule.” Cheryl breathed
heavily, then it sounded as if she muffled the phone. Finally, when Alice feared
she wouldn’t come back, Cheryl said on a sob, “I’ll call you back.”

“No! Cheryl wait—” The call ended, and the silence seemed
louder than a scream. Alice started shaking. “Oh, no. Oh, no,
no.
”

Reese took the phone from her hand, put it to his ear then
closed it. “It was Cheryl?”

Numb, afraid that she’d just left Cheryl to a god-awful fate,
she nodded.

“What did she say?”

Alice bit her lip. Obviously Hickson, or whoever had Cheryl,
wanted to get to her, too. Why else would they have Cheryl call?

Maybe they’d only promised to have her call back to give them
time to think through a plan. Perhaps to avoid having the call traced.

Could you trace a cell phone call? She didn’t know.

Please, please, she thought, let her bluff for more time be
enough to keep Cheryl safe.

Reese caught her shoulders, turning her toward him. He’d
shifted into cop mode. She saw it in his eyes, in the way he held himself even
while naked in bed. “Alice? I need you to tell me everything. Right now.”

Dreading his reaction, she nodded. “About that tattoo
business...I hate to say you were right....”

“Tell me.”

“I could be in trouble after all.”

* * *

R
OWDY
STOOD
OUTSIDE
a
tattoo parlor, waiting as the morning fog dissipated. Oppressive heat already
wafted from the blacktop. By noon the humidity would feel like a sauna.

Last night, he’d signed the final papers on the bar. It was
his. He’d take ownership in a few more days. The current owner only needed a
little time to clear out.

Owning property wasn’t new to him. He’d bought the apartment
building his sister had used while hiding from murderers.

But that was for cover.

This would be his livelihood. A legit occupation. Roots.
Stability. An honest living.

A fresh start.

Exhilarating and terrifying—he couldn’t wait to get started. He
hadn’t yet told Dougie, the bartender, that he’d be replaced. He didn’t want
anyone sabotaging things before he was settled in and supervising. And he didn’t
want anyone giving Avery a hard time.

Avery. Every damn time he thought of her, he breathed harder.
How fucked up was that? He wanted her, sure. She was hot in a “play it cool”
way. But he didn’t breathe hard over the thought of a woman. Ever.

At least, he hadn’t until Avery Mullins.

Now that he officially owned the place, would it be unethical
to sleep with her? Not that she’d agreed, anyway.

Yet.

And not that he got all that hyped up over ethics. But he also
didn’t want to do anything to cause problems at his own establishment.

Hands in his pockets, his head down but his eyes up, Rowdy
strolled to a lamppost and took in the surrounding area. A light shone inside
the tattoo parlor even though it wouldn’t open for hours. Interesting.

The other nearby establishments—cigarette shop, cash advance,
alterations and a novelty store—remained locked up, dark inside and out.

He didn’t see a car near the tattoo place, but then maybe, like
him, whoever was inside had parked down the street, out of sight.

Another light came on, this one in a back room. Rowdy badly
wanted to go in, to check out things on his own. It’d be a piece of a cake.
Locked doors rarely slowed him down. He could be in and out with no one the
wiser.

But Reese had been clear about shit like that, and on the off
chance he had the right place, he didn’t want to dick up any of the
legalities.

There weren’t many cops he trusted, even fewer he’d assist. But
Reese and Logan were different.

Good thing, since Logan would soon be his brother-in-law. He
was starting to get used to that idea. Now, when he thought about it, it didn’t
make his stomach roil or send ice down his spine.

He even enjoyed working with them. Having been a street rat
most of his life, Rowdy blended in more easily than cops did. Using stealth for
a reason other than mere survival made it somehow less caustic and more
meaningful.

A few minutes later, a drunk staggered out of an alley and went
to the liquor store. When he tried the door and it didn’t open, he dropped to
sit on the front stoop. Half a minute later, he appeared to pass out, slumped
against the door.

Shortly after that, two women parked in an alley near the
alteration shop. They left the car but stood outside talking a moment. One
smoked while the other laughed about a story.

Loitering, smiling at the women when they looked him over,
Rowdy again surveyed the tattoo parlor. So far he’d checked on five in the
area.

For reasons he couldn’t pinpoint, this one felt right.

And then...bingo. A man came out, and damned if he didn’t look
like one of the men who’d shown up in that shitty little hotel shortly after
Alice had vacated it.

Rowdy waited to see where the man would go—and he sensed
someone approaching from his left.

He turned—and instead of a direct threat, he found a woman
standing there, probably in her mid-twenties, light brown, shoulder-length hair,
big blue eyes.

Doing what came naturally, Rowdy checked her out.

She looked killer in super-short shorts and high-heeled strappy
sandals, with a skimpy halter that barely contained her breasts. No tattoo, but
a lot of earrings in one ear, and just enough makeup to look hot.

She smiled at him.

Rowdy looked her in the eye and smiled back.

“Now, don’t you look lonesome,” she purred as she touched one
finger to his shoulder, trailing it down to his chest.

“Just waiting.”

“For what?”

He stared at her, saying nothing—which was exactly how he would
have reacted regardless of what he was doing or why. He didn’t allow people to
pry, ever, under any circumstances.

Undaunted, she gave a cute pout. “Maybe I could keep you
company.”

Bold. He liked that, but in this neighborhood, he had to be
careful. “You a hooker, honey?”

Playful, she swatted at him. “No, I’m not. Is that what you’re
waiting for?”

“No.”

“Good. Because I work at the cigarette store.” After nodding
toward the building, she again teased his chest. “But for you, I’m willing to
skip a day.”

Pretending a reserve he didn’t possess, Rowdy glanced away—and
damn it all, he didn’t see the man anymore. He scanned the street, the
alleys...nothing.

“My goodness, you’re a big one, aren’t you?” She came closer
until her body pressed to his, crowding him, making his senses go on the alert.
“Wha’dya say, handsome?”

It’d be all too easy for a babe to hide a weapon. He wasn’t a
fool, ever, not even for a sexy body and beautiful face.

“Sorry, honey, not today.” Hands on her upper arms, he eased
her back a foot. “I’m waiting on someone.” To shore up that story, he checked
his watch. “Hopefully, I haven’t been stood up.”

“A woman?”

“You are one nosy little lady, aren’t you?”

“I was just thinking that you could wait with me in the store.”
Smiling, she leaned around to see his face and cajoled in a singsong voice.
“It’s air-conditioned.”

“Hold up.” He used the excuse of retrieving his cell from his
pocket to put even more space between them. On speed dial, he rang up Reese with
the push of one button.

Reese answered on the first ring. “Rowdy.”

“Hey, dude, you coming or not?”