By a Thread (18 page)

“Dekes sent some of his men to the hotel suite where Bria and I were staying,” I said. “They were planning to rape and murder us. That's when I heard them talking about Callie as well—about how they were planning to do the same thing to her after they got done with me and Bria.”

Finn pointedly cleared his throat.

“And they also busted up Finn's car along the way,” I added.

“Bastards,” my foster brother muttered. “You never,
ever
key an Aston Martin, much less crack the windshield or rip up the seats. They deserved to be gutted like fish for that alone.”

Callie's eyes widened at the venom in his voice, and she stared at him like he'd just grown another head. Finn smiled at her, following it up with a sexy wink. Bria kicked him again just for that.

Donovan's eyes narrowed to slits. “I thought as much. I knew it was you as soon as I heard that they'd been stabbed to death.”

I could have pointed out that Bria had actually killed Pete Procter with her Ice magic, but I knew it wouldn't make a difference to Donovan.

“Guilty as charged,” I quipped. “Just like old times, right?”

Donovan gave me a disgusted
look then—the same disappointed, disheartened, utterly disgusted look that he had dozens of times before. The look that said that he couldn't believe he hadn't shot me when he'd had the chance, the first night we'd met at the Ashland Opera House. The look that said he couldn't believe he'd ever let himself get close to me. The look that said I wasn't worth one single shred of his time, attention, consideration, or sympathy.

My heart twinged again, but this time it was more from anger than some deep, dark, hidden longing.

“Look,” I snapped. “I didn't come down here looking for trouble, but whether you like it or not, Bria and I are in this thing with Callie now. We've embarrassed the vampire twice and killed four of his men. From what little I know about him, Dekes doesn't seem like the kind of guy to let things like that slide. He can't—not and be the badass everyone claims he is. And he still needs the land that the Sea Breeze sits on to build his casino. He's not just going to forget about that either, no matter how much you might want him to.”

Donovan couldn't argue with my logic, but he couldn't bring himself to agree with me either. I knew that Donovan's morals meant more to him than I ever had, but I wondered how he felt now that Callie's life was the one in danger. Because Callie was everything I was not—good, sweet, innocent. Would Donovan bend his morals to let me save her? Or would he refuse, foolishly try to go after Dekes through legal methods, and get them both killed in the process?

“Why don't we let Callie decide?” I asked. “Since it's her life on the line.”

We all looked at Callie.
Some of the color had returned to her face, but confusion, surprise, and hurt still filled her eyes. She kept staring at Donovan like she'd never seen him before. I wondered if it was because she'd just found out that he'd slept with an assassin or because he hadn't told her who I really was last night. Looked like Donovan wasn't any better at this relationship stuff than I was.

“I'm not sure,” Callie finally said in a hesitant tone. “I know that Dekes is a horrible person, that he's hurt people, that he killed Stu Alexander or had it done, but we're sitting here talking about
murdering
him. As much as I love the Sea Breeze, it's not worth his life.”

“Well, Dekes thinks that it is definitely worth
your
life,” I said. “And
I'm
the one talking about murdering someone. Everyone else is just an innocent bystander.”

“I'd go with cheerleaders myself,” Finn said in a helpful voice.

This time, Bria shoved her elbow into his side. Finn winced and shuffled a little closer to Owen, who gave him an amused look.

“I can't let you do that, Gin,” Donovan said in a low voice. “I can't let you go after Dekes. You know that.”

The anger that had been simmering in my stomach turned into a slow boil, and I glared at him. “You aren't
letting
me do anything, Detective. Not one damn thing. I'm a big girl, and I make my own decisions, remember? And I've decided I'm going to crash Dekes's press conference this afternoon. That's all there is to it.”

“If you go after him, I'll arrest you,” Donovan snapped. “I won't be part of your murdering him.
I won't let you get it away with it again. Not here. This is my town, Gin. Not yours. You can either play by my rules or you can get the hell off my island.”

I opened my mouth to snap back that I'd like to see him try to fucking arrest me, when Callie got to her feet and held up her hands.

“Please, enough, stop. Both of you. I . . . appreciate what you're trying to do, Gin,” she said. “What you're offering to do for me. But I'm not any more comfortable with this than Donovan is, especially since you're talking about murdering Dekes like it's something casual that you do every day of the week.”

Callie's statement was far closer to the truth than she knew, given how many thugs I'd taken out in Ashland over the past few weeks and all the others that would be waiting for me when I went back home. Vacation or no vacation, things in the Ashland underworld were by no means settled. It made me tired just thinking about how many more hoods I'd have to take out before the others got the message to leave me the hell alone—if they ever did.

But more than that, I sensed that same kind of bone-tired weariness in Callie. She'd been fighting Dekes for months now, and the struggle had taken its toll on her. Oh, she seemed happy enough on the surface, cooking in her restaurant, laughing and joking with her staff and customers, but tension radiated off her like lightning from a storm cloud. Even now, in the privacy of her own office, her petite body was ramrod straight, and her troubled eyes kept drifting toward
the door, as if she expected more of Dekes's men to barge in at any second just because we were talking about the vamp. I was willing to bet that today wasn't the first morning that Callie had woken up with tired smudges under her eyes and knots in her stomach—but it could be the very last, if I had my way with Dekes this afternoon.

“I understand,” I said in a gentler voice. “So how about we compromise? Instead of doing what I usually do, I'll
strongly suggest
that Dekes leave you alone. We'll leave it up to the vampire what happens from there. What he does from then on and all the consequences are on him, okay? Can you live with that?”

Callie nodded with obvious relief, but the tension didn't leave Donovan's rough features. The detective knew me far better than his fiancée did. He knew exactly what I'd do if the vampire failed to heed my advice: that I'd stick my knives in Dekes and walk away before the vamp's body even hit the floor. And the worst part for Donovan was that he also realized there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. Not really. Oh, I imagined he could warn Dekes, but all that would do was make it harder for me to get to the vampire and delay the inevitable. And really, all Donovan's talk about stopping me was just that—talk. Just like it had been back in Ashland. The detective wanted Callie to be safe, and deep down he was happy to let me be the one to get my hands dirty instead of him.

Good thing I liked playing in the muck.

12

There was nothing else to say,
so Owen, Finn, Bria, and I left Callie and Donovan in the office. The four of us walked back through the kitchen and the front of the restaurant before stepping outside into the afternoon sun. The day was even hotter and more humid than the previous one had been.

“I think that went rather well,” Finn said in a cheery voice. “All things considered.”

I looked at Bria. “Do you want to slap him or shall I?”

Bria held out her hand in a go-ahead motion. “The pleasure is all yours.”

Finn winced and ducked behind Owen. “Quick! Let's make a break for it!”

Owen laughed. “You're on your own, buddy. Let me know how that turns out for you.”

Finn huffed, but he didn't step out from behind Owen.

Most of the brunch crowd
had already gone, leaving only a few cars parked in front of the restaurant—including Finn's smashed-up convertible. He walked over to his beloved Aston Martin and examined it from every angle before he turned to look at me.

“Now I'm doubly glad you killed those black-hearted sons of bitches,” he muttered. “Look what they did to my car, my beautiful, beautiful car. If they were here, I'd shoot out their kneecaps myself.”

I rolled my eyes. “It's just a car, Finn. It's not like you don't have a dozen others back home in the parking garage of your apartment building.”

He sniffed. “Yes, but those are back home, and we're
here
. And this model was destined to be a classic. Now it's just another piece of junk.”

He stuck out his lip, pouted, and then kicked the tire the way that a little boy would.

I looked at Bria. “How do you put up with him?”

Bria started to open her mouth, but Finn piped up instead.

“She puts up with me because I happen to be rich, handsome, charming, a witty conversationalist, and exceptionally talented in bed,” he smirked. “Flexible too.”

I groaned. “I did not need to hear those last two.”

Finn just grinned. Nothing restored his good mood more than needling someone else, and I was happy to take one for the team, since it was my fault that his car had gotten trashed in the first place.

Finn pulled out his cell phone and arranged for a tow truck service to haul his convertible to a garage to get the dents beaten out
of it and have the windshield and seats replaced. Then the four of us got into Finn's Cadillac Escalade, which he and Owen had driven down to Blue Marsh this morning. We stopped to pick up some groceries and other supplies, and an hour later, we were back in the beach house I'd rented.

Finn walked through the house before stepping back into the living room. He sniffed his displeasure. “I
suppose
that it will
do
. But it's not nearly as nice as staying at the Blue Sands would have been. There's no pool, no bar, and most importantly, no gorgeous blonde to give me a full-body massage.” He grinned at Bria. “Unless you want to volunteer for that last particular duty.”

Bria snorted, but I could see the heat glittering in her eyes. Finn might drive her crazy with his motormouth and excessive ego, but she couldn't keep her hands off him any more than I could keep mine off Owen.

“Homework first, children, and then you can play,” I drawled. “Finn still has to secure our invitations to Dekes's press conference and whip up some fake credentials for me, remember?”

“And it won't take me more than an hour to do all that,” Finn said. “Besides, I'd much rather play first and do homework later. That's always so much more fun.”

He leaned in close and whispered something in Bria's ear. She blushed, then let out a small, slightly embarrassed giggle. Finn gave me a triumphant look, his green eyes sly and bright in his ruddy face. He grabbed Bria's hand, and the two of them disappeared down the hall without a backward glance. A few seconds later, more giggles filled the air, along with the sound of a door slamming shut.

That left me alone in
the living room with Owen. He hadn't said much in Callie's office or on the ride over to the beach house, but he'd been staring at me with a dark, guarded expression ever since Donovan had shown up at the Sea Breeze.

“How about we take that walk on the beach now?” he suggested. “And give Finn and Bria some privacy.”

I nodded. Owen didn't say anything else, but I had some explaining to do, and we both knew it.

I grabbed a couple of large blankets and a blue-and-white-striped beach umbrella from one of the downstairs closets. Owen took the umbrella from me, hoisting the white metal pole up on his shoulder like it weighed nothing. I took a moment to admire the ripple of his muscles under his shirt. Unlike the other wealthy businessmen in Ashland, Owen came by his sculptured physique the old-fashioned way—through hard physical labor. He'd spent years working as a blacksmith while he built up his own business empire, and he still made weapons and iron sculptures in the forge in the back of his house.