Between Darkness and Daylight (16 page)

"Okay."

Zane joined Nova, resting in a corner of the sectional.

"I shouldn't have said that."

Zane smirked as he sat down beside her. "I am dangerous. Dark and mysterious ,too."

She smiled.

"Sure you don't want to go to the hospital?"

"Sure you don't want to call the police?"

He sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "I suppose I'll have to make a report."

"You think it's, uh, someone related to Manuela? Think her mother or father made bail?"

"I think Leary would have contacted me to let me know." He didn't think the list of suspects was that straightforward or short, nor the criminal justice system as swift as it proclaimed to be.

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He was in the midst of dialing when Ransom came back in the room, bursting with information. He came to his side to whisper in his ear, and Zane stared at Nova before excusing himself. Ransom led him to his bedroom window, from which Nova's silver Mercedes was clearly visible.

The windshield was covered in lime-green fluorescent paint,
"Sleeping
with the enemy"
loudly splashed across the glass.

* * * *

Who had done it, and what did it mean?

Had the rock thrower done it? Was he some sort of suitor who didn't appreciate Zane horning in on his action? Or someone who had it in for Zane and was trying to warn off Nova?

The possibilities were endless and they had Zane worried about Ransom's safety and the enemies he'd made in his job throughout the last several years. The possibility that Nova’s car might have been vandalized by a jealous ex had him dwelling on the fact that he didn't really know that much about her at all..

He suspected things that he shouldn’t have known, things that he had only seen in his dreams—dreams that before now he hadn’t remembered or thought twice about.

He knew that he and Nova shared a history, but he didn’t know why or how, and this scared him more than the shock he’d gotten when they’d touched reaching for that rock, scared him more than any vandalism.

"Are you going to tell her?"

Zane rubbed his chin, glancing at his nephew and wondering how to proceed. It wasn't like Nova wouldn't see it. The message could be seen from miles away.

How could he keep it from her? Why should he, after all? It wasn’t as if it included a racial slur or profanity—just some sort of cryptic missive.

A warning?

He started when Nova knocked on the door and entered, squelching all his reasoning.

She arched a brow. "What sort of insurrection is going on in here?"

She strolled over to them, her grin gradually turning to a frown as she 110

Gracie C. McKeever

noticed how Zane and Ransom banded together tighter. "Something I shouldn't see?"

"Nova…" Zane caught her around the shoulders, caressing her arms in a reassuring up-and-down motion. "It's your SUV."

She didn't move, just stared at him. "You want to break it to me easy or hard?"

He silently returned her look.

"Oh, for the love of Pete, it can't be that bad." She pushed past him and Ransom. "And even if it is, it's not like it's my kid, or something that can't be fi—" She froze at the window, her back to them.

Zane knew the exact moment when she digested the message, her shoulders slumping as if in defeat. But he saw more the humiliation on her face when she turned back to face them, a bright flush of color creeping up her throat and into her cheeks.

Nova took a deep breath, brushing by them as she headed back to the living room.

He followed, leaving a few feet between them, fingertips itching to touch her, to hold her.

"And the plot thickens."

"Nova?"

She slowly turned to him and he saw her set jaw, the look of determination in her eyes, as if she were ready to do battle.

Hell, maybe she knew something he didn't. If there were an enemy against whom to do battle, he wanted her to let him in on exactly who it was. "I'm sorry, Nova," he said, for no reason except he couldn't think of anything better to say.

She opened her mouth and closed it, looking at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable, before finally saying, "It's not your fault."

"You know that for a fact?"

"Unless you're the one who went down to my car and put the graffiti on my windshield, then, Yes, I know that for a fact."

"You're purposely simplifying this."

"What do you want me to say, Zane? You want me to blame you?"

"Hell, Yes. Blame me, hate me, fear me. But don't be indifferent."

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"You want emotion." She stalked to him, heat emanating from every pore as she closed the space between them. "Fine, I'll give you emotion.

I'm scared, I'm confused and embarrassed, but most of all I'm damned angry! Is that good enough for you?"

Zane grinned. "That's better than good enough." He caught her against him, leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers. Her heat engulfed him, merging with his and urging him further. He slipped his tongue into her mouth and she met it with her own. Emboldened, he slid his arms around her, pulling her flush against him, immersing himself in her spicy scent.

He forgot why she was angry, forgot why he was uneasy, forgot everything when he felt her breasts crushed to his chest, her nipples slowly hardening as he ground his pelvis against her.

He even forgot Ran was in the room, until the boy cleared his throat.

Reluctantly, he pulled away from Nova. "Maybe you should call the police, Ran."

And not just because of the vandalism
. The way he was feeling and the things he wanted to do to Nova right now were probably illegal in at least several states.

* * * *

"I don't want to go home tonight."

Zane almost ran from the door to scoop her up in his arms.

He'd just gotten rid of the last intruders of the evening. The police had gotten their statements, and the workers from an expensive 24-hour glass store had just finished repairing the two living room windows.

Nova stood with her back to him, before the very windows that had just been repaired, gazing out onto the now-quiet street. He envied her spirit, her strength, and wished for a quarter of her or Sinny's pluck.

But maybe he already had it, or maybe she was just as crazy as he was because he didn't want her to go either. He eased behind her to tell her this but murmured instead, "Are you sure?"

She turned to him, fudge brown eyes gleaming as she shrugged. "What can I say? I like your company."

"The feeling's mutual."

112

Gracie C. McKeever

"I'll take that as a Yes?" She slid her arms around his waist and looked up into his eyes, searching. "That I can stay?"

"Take it any way you like. Just don't go." He leaned in and hungrily kissed her, his tongue dueling with hers for an endless moment before he drew back to slide it over her mouth and nip her full bottom lip. "You know how much I want you?" he murmured.

She raised her hands in answer, resting the palms against his pecs, groping his hard chest and making his muscles twitch before leaning in for another breathtaking kiss. Her hands moved down to the zipper of his pants, leaving a trail of electric tingles from his nipples to his ribs and groin in their wake. She unzipped his pants and slid her hand inside to wrap his hard cock with firm feminine warmth before Zane thought to stop her and pull back.

The thought of Ransom in the next room was the only thing that kept him from throwing her down on the couch to accept what she was offering. Just barely.

He couldn't resist pushing the envelope, however, pulling her against him once more as he slid a hand into her slacks and dipped two fingers into her sultry wet vagina. Nova gasped as he thrust, pressing her body flush against his, obscuring his hand so that even if Ransom did come into the room, he wouldn't be able to see exactly what they were doing.

But the kid would know, Zane thought, from the way they were panting in each others’ ears, the way his hips were thrusting and rotating against her in concert with his fingers and her pelvis was grinding and meeting his. They were two adults reduced to desperate dry-humping in the living room, and there was no way a sharp kid like Ransom wouldn't catch on.

The thought didn't stop him from rubbing Nova's clit with his thumb and plunging his fingers deeper until she bit her bottom lip. She buried her face in his shoulder and gasped, "I'm going to come," right before her body convulsed in his arms and she whimpered into his shirt.

Hell, if they kept going like this, he would surely die when he finally did get inside her!

* * * *

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113

Ran came up short at the doorjamb and stood for several long moments watching his uncle and Nova getting busy at the window, feeling a twinge in his gut and heat and conflicting feelings flooding his body. He knew he should turn away and leave, but couldn't bring himself not to look.

He didn't blame Uncle Zane for liking Nova, for wanting her; he couldn't. If he were older—or she younger—he figured he'd probably be making a play for her himself. His jeans tightened at his crotch at the mere thought. He'd gotten himself into this predicament time and again, and every time he thought he had it under control and knew what the trick was to keeping his rampant teenage libido in check, something like this happened.

Did it get any easier with age? He really wanted to know, because he didn't understand how Uncle Zane could take being so close to Nova without exploding at the seams Incredible Hulk-style. Or maybe the old man was exploding on the inside and just better at hiding it.

He was glad for his uncle, yet jealous of him at the same time, and hated himself for begrudging the guy’s happiness. It wasn't like he had had that many opportunities to be happy, especially since Ran had come into his life.

What would Zane do when—
if
—he found out what Ran had, if he knew what he’d found in Nova's belongings?

Ransom hadn't meant to look, had only caught a glimpse of the sketch sticking from her portfolio on the kitchen counter as he passed to go to the bathroom. He was surprised his uncle hadn't caught a glimpse of it himself, since it was right there, almost in plain sight. He had slid the sketch out on his way by—five-fingered habits died hard—and continued to the bathroom, his stomach clenching with the enormity of what he'd done, and with shock, once he’d closed the door and gotten a good look at the face staring up at him from the paper.

The sketch was rough, but it had caught all the strong angles of Uncle Zane's features, all the heart and soul. It was his uncle's face as plain as day, which made Ransom wonder who Nova Foxx was and what she wanted with his uncle. Would she have found them, had he not tried to mug her? Or had the mugging been some freaky kind of set-up in which he'd only been a pawn?

114

Gracie C. McKeever

He didn't think she meant them any harm; she'd saved his uncle's life, after all. But what was her angle?

Backing out of the room, he walked down the hallway to his bedroom and closed the door. He sat on the edge of his full-size bed and stared at the picture, taking in the signature, and especially the date, at the bottom.

The sketch had been done almost a year before Nova met him and his uncle, yet Uncle Zane never gave any indication of having met Nova before.

Ran didn't think his uncle was a particularly good actor, and doubted that he and Nova were putting on the strangers-meeting-for-the-first-time act just for his benefit. But there was that naturalness between them—this, like, synergy to their interactions, as if they'd known each other for a long time, much longer than a week, and were only reuniting after a long separation—that had him thinking maybe they had known each other before the precinct.

Maybe that's what desire did to grown folks; created instant chemistry.

Ransom picked up the cordless handset from its base on the bedside table and dialed North Carolina by rote. He needed some advice. Besides, a lot had happened since his last call. He usually called his grandmother at least once a week, and he was a week overdue. The phone rang several times before she intercepted her outgoing message and picked up.

"Hey, Gram Addie!"

"Well, someone sounds excited to hear my voice."

"And you sound out of breath."

"Just came in from a brisk walk in the woods."

"My Gramma, the frontier woman."

"Joke all you want, young man. But it keeps this sixty-six-year-old heart a-pumping." She took several deep breaths, part of her cool-down, and Ransom could hear her bustling around the house as she settled in.

"Now, what's wrong?"

"Aw c'mon, Gramma. I don't only call you when there's something wrong."

"This is true." She chuckled. "But something ain't entirely right now, is it?"

How could he bring it up without telling her about the mugging and everything else that had happened between him and Nova?

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Ransom didn't think Uncle Zane had mentioned anything to Gram about his misadventure or the old lady would have been on the phone to get in his ass a long time before now—if she hadn’t hopped on the first thing smoking to NYC to give him an old-fashioned whipping.

Man, he should have thought this through a little better before dialing.

"Out with it, Ran-man."

Ransom smiled at his Gramma's nickname for him. She'd been calling him that for as long as he could remember and was the only one who did.

Uncle Zane preferred the all-purpose "sport."

"Gram, a friend of mine found out something about someone he knows, not necessarily good or bad, but it's something he thinks his…aunt should know. What should my friend do?"

"Okay, let me get this straight. You've found out something about a mutual acquaintance and you want to know whether or not to tell Zane?"

"Uh…"

"D'Oh."

Ransom burst out laughing. Gramma Addie was the only senior citizen he knew who watched
The Simpsons
faithfully and could pull off a pretty decent Homer imitation.