House of Payne: Steele (6 page)

Unintelligible male voices yelling at each other reached her ears as two men hurtled through House Of Payne’s front doors. She only had enough time to get an impression of them—a stocky Hispanic with a heavy Groucho-style mustache and hair pulled back in a bushy ponytail, the other a bald Caucasian bowling ball, as wide as he was tall. Both had their phones out and held up in such a way that she thought they were recording something, and yelling pure profanity at each other. That was all she managed to register before they plowed into her without even acknowledging her existence.

As she flew through the air, she had enough time to ponder that there was a definite downside to being invisible.

The shattering of her newly purchased mug almost drowned out her startled yelp. Pain sliced into her hand at the fleshy base of her thumb as she sprawled on the floor, rolling over the sad remains of her mug like she’d been thrown from a car.

It took her a moment to realize she was still in one piece, unlike her poor mug, even as all hell broke loose around her. The hubbub that the shouting men had kicked off was nothing compared to what was unleashed around her—running footsteps, a flurry of movement, a furious screech from Scout, and Payne going off like a volcano packed full of nuclear F-bombs. It was total chaos, and she smartly kept her head down until the worst of it was over. Then she was being hauled to her feet by Payne while she still clutched her phone and the sad, busted handle of her mug.

“Mother
fuckers
better not twitch a goddamn hair, or I’ll kill ‘em myself,” Payne snarled, holding Essie by the arms while staring pure death at a point beyond her shoulder. Dazedly she looked back to take in the scene in its entirety. The two men who’d trampled her now looked as though they had been trampled themselves. The dude with the Groucho mustache was curled up in a fetal position, rocking noiselessly with his hands between his knees.

Ouch.

The round bald guy was ass-end up and on his knees, his jowly cheek pressed to the floor while Steele stood over him. He had the guy in an arm-lock that looked excruciating to Essie, as if Steele was trying to see if he could bend the dude’s fingers forward along the man’s forearm to see if they could touch the elbow.

Considering how the bald dude was screaming,
excruciating
was probably an accurate description.

“Essie.” Steele’s eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them as he looked to her, not moving from his position over the screaming man. “You okay?”

Embarrassment nearly strangled her to death. Seriously, why did stupid things always happen to her? “Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry about that. I didn’t have a chance to get out of their—”

“Don’t apologize.” Steele’s voice turned deadly as he bent over the bowling ball of a man. “Who do you think should apologize here, asshole? Who?”

“Me!
Meeeeeee
!”

“Well?”

“I’m sorry,
I’m sor-reeeee
…”

“Essie, honey.” Scout somehow jogged up to her in another totally kickass pair of stilettos, and pressed a paper towel into her hand. “You’re dripping blood like a faucet, girlfriend. This isn’t your dominant hand, is it? I don’t want you to be handicapped in the contest.”

“What?” Icy prickles washed over Essie as she looked down. The white paper towel Scout had pressed into her hand was fast turning a dark crimson.

Oh, God.

Blood.

The scent of it hit her. All at once her brain spewed out disjointed memories as if it had suddenly become a nightmare factory.

Screaming and blood.

Pain and blood.

Horror and blood.

Blood.

She hated the scent of blood.

Spots of darkness grew around the edges of her vision. Half blind, she looked to Steele, though she couldn’t begin to explain why.

“Blood,” she croaked.

As if from far away, she watched him drop the bald man, leaping over him to get to her even as the floor seemed to vanish out from under her feet.

Chapter Six

“For the last time, I’m
fine
.”

Steele paused at the head of the narrow back stairwell when Essie’s sultry contralto voice reached his ears. He’d already been around the entirety of her building to check its overall security. It wasn’t awful, but one of the residents had held the door open for him so he could gain entrance. Not to mention both the front and the back doors were made of tempered glass. If someone was determined enough to get in, they could do it.

“How am I not supposed to worry about you? You fucking
fainted
.”

The male voice was one Steele recognized right away; Oliver “Twist” Santiago, Essie’s oldest brother. He sounded about as exasperated as a man could be, and Steele couldn’t blame him. From his position at the far end of the hall, he even cheered him on for being a protective presence in Essie’s life. It was clear that it was this protective stance in Twist that made him not a fan of Steele’s, but the feeling was far from mutual. Steele thoroughly approved of just about everything Twist stood for when it came to Essie’s safety.

“I didn’t actually
faint
, Twist. And if you tell Mom and Dad that I did, I’ll rip your head off.”

Aw. She was kind of cute when she threw around empty threats.

“I haven’t told them anything. If I had, they’d be here in your face instead of me, and you know it. You know they hate that you’re living in this dump.”

“
This dump
is what I can afford. And don’t worry about my living here. Since this frigging stupid contest has now locked me into yet another two months with no paycheck, I’ll probably be moving into Mom’s and Dad’s place like a total loser.”

Steele’s brows came together. Damn. He hadn’t thought about money being a problem, but it made sense. Unlike the other two designers who already had jobs in the area, Essie had come up from Texas for a job at House of Payne—a job that Payne had turned into a months-long contest without pay.

Shit.

“Goddamn it.” Obviously Twist’s thoughts were going down the same path as his. “Let me at least pay the rent for the next two months, Es. It’s my fault you were dragged up here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m responsible for my own actions, not you.”

“Yeah, but—”

“Not to mention you just got married and you’re getting ready to give Angel the biggest birthday surprise she’ll probably ever receive—a surprise that’s going to take a huge amount of money to pull off. You don’t need another expense added to that.”

“But it’s my fault—”

“Stop it, Twist. You’ve never been at fault for anything.”

There was a heavy beat of silence. “I guess I do have a habit of thinking of you in terms of blame and fault.”

“Yeah, you do, and it needs to stop. I don’t want to be that burden for you, okay? I just want to be your irritating baby sister.”

Steele didn’t have to guess what they were talking about. It had been Twist’s trusted friend, Zane Hildebrandt, who had attacked Essie, scarring the Santiago siblings deeper than any eye could see.

“Trust me, you’re still my irritating baby sister.” There was a sound of movement, and he tensed in case Twist moved to the back stairs where he was, rather than using the stairs leading to the front entrance. “And I’m your overbearing big brother, so that means I’m still going to point out to Payne that this setup he’s got going—while great PR for the House—is putting a big financial strain on you, and that’s not right.”

“You want to help me? Bring me my sketchbook that I left in your booth, and my life will be complete. I told you before we left the House that I needed it.”

“Getting you stitched up was more of a priority to me than running back upstairs to get your fucking book, so pipe the hell down. I’ll get it to you tomorrow.”

“Ugh, you’ve got lame priorities, dumbass.”

“Don’t call me dumbass, dumbass.”

“I’m telling Mom you called me dumbass, dumbass.”

“You started it, dumbass.”

Essie’s laughter swelled up, filling the hallway with warmth and light. Incredible, he thought, shaking his head. She had the best damn laugh he’d ever heard. She should do it all the time.

In that moment, he heartily hated a world that had tried so hard to crush her laughter into silence.

He listened to the siblings say their farewells, then came around the corner when he could no longer hear Twist’s footfalls down the front set of stairs. He knocked on Essie’s door, then made sure he was back far enough so that she could see who it was through the peephole. When she cracked open the door with the thin and useless chain still attached, he backed all the way up to the other side of the hallway to give her whatever space she needed.

“Good girl,” he said before she could speak. “You didn’t assume I was your brother returning for some reason. This building might just be mediocre when it comes to security, but there’s nothing wrong with how you take care of yourself.”

“Steele?” The amber eye he could see went wide before the door closed. There was a rattle of chain, and then the door opened once more. She slipped through the gap as if the door could only open so far and stood next to it as she closed it firmly and with an obvious message—No One Allowed. “This is a surprise. Wait, did you just call me
girl
?”

“
Good woman
sounds like weird pilgrim-speak, so you’re just going to have to find a way to cope.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“I have faith in you.” Grinning at her smartass tone, he nodded toward her hand now wrapped in white gauze. “How’s the hand? Did it need stitches?”

“Stitches are so last century, dude. All the cool kids get glued together nowadays. You should try it.”

He grimaced. He’d had enough of being put back together by doctors for one lifetime. “Thanks, but I think that’s one fad I’d like to skip. How’re you feeling otherwise?”

“A little throbby, but otherwise I’m peachy.” She glanced in the direction of her apartment door. “Um, I’m sorry I’m being rude by not inviting you in, but that’s something I pretty much don’t do anymore.”

“Don’t apologize, I understand. In fact,” he went on, leaning back against his side of the hallway wall and making himself comfortable, “this is probably a great time to talk to you about this apologizing thing you’ve got going on.”

She blinked. “What apologizing thing?”

“You apologize when it’s not necessary. Like now, and earlier today. Those assholes bowled you over in their hurry to be the first one inside, yet the moment you were on your feet you were apologizing for being in their way.”

“Well… yeah, that was kind of stupid. I just hate the feeling that I’ve inconvenienced someone, or that I’ve been a burden somehow.” Then she did a little double-take. “Wait, why were those two guys having a race to get inside in the first place? Aren’t they kind of old for that sort of thing?”

“Amateur paparazzi.” He didn’t bother containing his sneer. As far as he was concerned, those assclowns were lucky they could still walk. “They’d heard that Prince Charles had come in for a tattoo and wanted to be the first one to get video proof of it. It wasn’t Prince Charles,” he added when she opened her mouth, then had to chuckle at her pout of disappointment. Did she have any idea how adorable her expressions were? “There’s always been a problem at the House with people trying to sneak in and get photos or video of the star-class clientele that go there for ink, but the rumor of a Royal was enough to send those idiots into a frenzy. A frenzy that they’re now regretting.”

“Can’t say I’m too sorry about that.”

“Good, because I’m not in the mood to hear another apology for someone else’s bad behavior. What I am in the mood for is to see your shitty day end up on a brighter note, so I brought you something.”

Her brows went up. “You brought me something?”

“Yeah.” He’d kept his hands behind his back as he leaned against the wall, but now he stood up straight and showed her the small gift shop bag. “You wanted that mug, so there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have it.”

“Steele.” Her expression was priceless as she too, pushed away from her patch of wall to accept the bag he held out. “You went back and bought another mug?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure I got the right one. I can exchange it if it’s not right.”

“It’s perfect.” She said it before she even got it out of the bag, and he couldn’t help but shake head. God, she was sweet. He remembered all the times he’d brought Apolline gifts, and while she’d always shown gratitude, it couldn’t hold a candle to Essie’s enthusiasm…

No.

The door on his mental vault slammed so loudly he was surprised it didn’t echo throughout the building. He didn’t think about Apolline. He didn’t let his old life surface, ever. It was gone. His whole world was gone. All that was left was the empty shell of the man he’d once been.

But for the first time in four years, as he watched Essie Santiago look at the mug as if it were a newborn, that bleak emptiness seemed somehow… less.

“Wow.” She looked up at him with a smile so brilliant it rivaled the sun. “Oh, wow.”

Hell yeah, oh wow, was all he could think, staring at her. It was just a stupid mug, not even wrapped up with ribbons and girlie shit. But she made him feel like he’d given her the best gift in the history of gift-giving. “Does that mean I got it right?’

“You totally got it right.” She hugged the mug to her chest. He had to consciously stop himself from reaching out to do the same thing with her. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to.”

“Why? You’re not the one who broke it.”

“I still wanted to.” He hadn’t bothered to analyze why. He’d just needed to put things back the way she’d wanted them. Since she’d wanted the damn mug, then that was what she needed to have.

“You must be one of those rare beings I’ve heard about—a genuinely nice guy.”

“They exist, I guess, but I don’t qualify.” It was important that she got that through her head straight away. He didn’t want to disappoint her somewhere down the line. “I just wanted to cheer you up after you fainted in my arms.”

A dull red washed over her face, and her smile turned into an embarrassed grimace. “Let me say this loud and clear—I didn’t
faint
.”

“Looked that way to me.”

“My legs stopped working, I’ll admit it, but I didn’t lose consciousness. I remember everything.”

“So do I.” To give her plenty of time to step away, he raised his hand and brushed it over her hair. He felt her start, but he had to smile when she didn’t back away. She had more spine than probably even she knew, which was good to know. That was something he could work with. “You went so pale you freaked me out. Then when you began to fall face-first into the floor… that scared the crap out of me, Essie, I’m not going to lie.”

“I can’t believe a little thing like that scared you. I get the feeling you’re too tough for anything to scare you.”

“I’ve been through a hell of a lot during my time on earth, and a lot of it would turn anyone’s hair white. From being raised by a fire-and-brimstone preacher who made me handle venomous snakes, to being sniped at from a thousand meters by an enemy I never saw, to having the world blow up around me and getting half my face shredded, I know what fear is. Fear and I go way back. But I have to admit, I can’t remember ever having fear hit so fast it made my hands cold. That’s what happened when you took a header today. I was positive I wouldn’t be able to reach you in time.”

“Oh.” It was little more than a whisper. “I’m so sorry I scared you.”

“Don’t apologize.” His hand moved from her hair to her mouth to stem another unnecessary apology. Again she jolted at the unexpected move, but just like before she didn’t step away. Good. As he slid his hand along her petal-soft cheek to cup her jaw, he got right up into her personal space. She needed to get used to him being there, so now was as good a time as any to get that ball rolling. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I just…I have a problem with blood. It’s not that I’m some weak female or something like that. When I was attacked, I almost drowned in my own blood after my sinus cavity was partially caved in. Seeing it,
smelling
it when I wasn’t properly braced for it…”

“You don’t have to explain, sweetness.” Rage at the thought of what she’d been put through tore him up inside, but he kept his touch gentle as his thumb caressed her cheek. “And I could never think you’re weak. Don’t forget, I know you’re a fighter.”

That luscious mouth again gave him the gift of her smile. “And you’re a good man.”

Damn
. “No.”

She shook her head. “Sometimes I have trouble believing there are still good people in the world. But I always hope there are, and I’m glad I do. You’re proof that I’m right.”

“I told you. I’m not known for being nice.”

“Then maybe it’s something I bring out in you.”

“Maybe.” But as he stood there he had to admit that
niceness
wasn’t what she brought out in him. He doubted she’d label him as a “nice” guy if she knew that simply standing this close to her made his skin tight and feverish and his stomach muscles clench. A nice guy would put a leash on his response to a woman like Essie, but as blood heated and his balls grew heavy with carnal need he knew he wasn’t going to even try. He was going to taste her sweetness, and by damn, he was going to enjoy every last—