Lori Foster (6 page)

“Cautious?” She gave an incredulous laugh. “You forget that I know how much trouble the bar was in when you took over.”

He grinned. “Yeah, but I got it cheap.” Someone would even call it a steal. “As a legit business it was hemorrhaging cash. It was only the drug trade bringing in money, and even the idiot who’d been running it knew that was about to come to an end.”

“You told him that the cops were on to him?”

Rowdy shook his head. “I let him think rival competition was moving in.”

“You?”

“I’ve known plenty of thugs and how they work, enough to make it believable.” Hell, he’d been hustling the street since he was a kid.

Rather than be disgusted with his low associations, Avery looked awed. “That’s ingenious.”

So far, the only thing that seemed to upset her was him getting a blow job. It’d be best if he didn’t share that thought with her, though. “The dumbass cut his losses and bailed. Good riddance.”

“Given he let women be abused, I’d say you let him off easy.”

When Avery looked at him like that, like maybe he was more than trouble, more than a speed bump in life, it...hell, it both bugged him and made him feel a foot taller.

And she’d called him dangerous.

“I used him, Avery.” She deserved the bare truth. “I used that whole fucked-up scenario to get what I wanted.”

As if the circumstances didn’t matter at all, she nodded. “You also lent a hand to the police.”

“Yeah, so?” Helping the cops was just a side effect of doing what
he
wanted.

“And now that your sister has married, you have the law in your family.”

Did she have to twist his guts with his newly changed status? He cringed, still unused to the idea. “Logan’s all right. He’s not like most cops.”

She put her small, cool hand on his forearm. “Or maybe he is, and it’s just that you haven’t known the standard.”

No reason to argue the point. “Maybe.” He pulled onto her street—and got a new focus for his discontent. Street lamps were broken, some buildings vacant with the windows boarded up, graffiti everywhere. The muscles of his neck knotted, and he murmured with sarcasm, “Home sweet home.”

“Don’t judge.”

Oh, he’d judge all right. Something didn’t add up. He knew all about dirt poor, and he knew about disappearing. If Avery only wanted cheap rent, there were more secure places.

His little bartender wanted to hide, probably where no one would ever think to look for her.

He’d honed his instincts on a cutthroat society that ate the weak. He recognized the signs on a gut level.

Now he had to decide what to do about it.

Unaware of his darkening mood, Avery pointed. “Last apartment on the left.” She picked up her purse from the floor and began digging for her keys. “You can go in the second driveway and pull around back.”

Worse and worse. The back of the two-story structure butted up to the parking lot of an all-night convenience store. Three scruffy men hung around, drinking, smoking and talking too loud. No good ever came from a scenario like this. Even as Rowdy parked, he heard the breaking of a glass bottle, followed by loud guffaws and a few rank curses.

The stiffness of his neck crawled all the way down to his toes. He clenched his jaw. “I’ll walk you in.” A statement, not an offer.

Avery didn’t argue. “Thanks. I appreciate it.” She gripped her keys tightly in one hand.

He noticed a small can of mace hanging from the key ring.
Did she honestly think that’d do her any good?

Circling the hood of the car, he reached her just as she stepped out. He took the bag holding the T-shirts and apron.

“Usually,” she said, “the fast-food restaurants and liquor store are still open when I get here, and they help to light up the lot. I’ve never gotten in this late, though.”

And she never would again, not if he could help it. “Where does the bus drop you off?” He looked around and saw nothing but trouble waiting to happen.

“One block down. Not far. It’s only a pain if it’s raining.”

For the love of... He’d gotten through a lot of ugliness in his lifetime, but right now, seeing how Avery lived, he was about as grim as a man could get. “Come on.”

Hooking her purse strap over her shoulder, she looked around with apprehension, not at the men—who Rowdy considered the obvious threat—but again at the shadows. “Guess I should pick up a flashlight, huh?”

Or a gun. Maybe a bodyguard or two.

But with him nearby, she didn’t need anything or anyone else. He would protect her.

“Doesn’t matter.” More often than not, the dark had been Rowdy’s friend. In so many ways, he was still more comfortable in it than in the light. As he walked with her to the back entrance of the tall, narrow brick building, he eyed the motley trio hanging out. Given the way they watched Avery, he wondered if he should talk with them, make sure they understood—

“Behave, Rowdy.”

Yeah, she picked up on his cues as easily as he picked up on hers. “I am behaving.”
And weighing my options.

“I don’t want any trouble, so ignore them, please.”

He had a feeling there’d be trouble regardless of her wants. “Are they always there?”

She kept her attention on the apartment building. “Or their ilk. It’s not like we’ve had introductions so I can’t say for sure if it’s always the same men.” She sorted through her keys. “So far it’s been fine. No big problems.”

Little problems, he knew, could sometimes escalate into a tsunami of threats. While Rowdy waited impatiently, Avery struggled to get the key to work the old rusted lock.

One of the men must’ve been feeling brave, because he took a few steps closer and called out to them in a drunken slur. “Ain’t had no ponytail in a while. Maybe I can be up next?”

The other two chortled, offering their encouragement and egging on the drunken bum. The comments continued, going from Avery’s hair to her ass, getting more crude by the second.

When another bottle broke, that one too close to be an accident, Avery nearly dropped her keys.

“Let me.” Rowdy took the keys from her and opened both locks, then pushed the warped door open.

The guy moved closer, probably no more than three or four yards behind them. “What will five bucks get me?”

More hilarity, some cheering on. “Might get you a handy,” his buddy called out.

“Or a least a flash peek of that bod.”

“Yeah,” the nearest man demanded. “Five bucks for a peep show! Prove you’re a real redhead.”

And Rowdy decided aloud, “Fuck it.”

Oftentimes it was better to confront a problem head-on instead of trying to avoid it. This was one of those problems.

As he shoved the bag of apparel back at Avery, she said, “Don’t you dare!”

He gave her one stern look. “Get inside. Lock the door behind you.”

“Damn you, Rowdy Yates—”

Shaking off her clutching hands, he moved farther away from her while assessing the group.

What he saw was no challenge at all, not as long as Avery went in and secured the door so he’d know she was safe.

The group looked to be late thirties, early forties.

Drunk and dumb.

He understood both firsthand.

Staring at the leader with dead eyes, Rowdy walked toward him. “Got something to say?”

Too wasted to understand his precarious position, the fool gave a loud laugh. “If the honey is taking on customers, I’ve got some change I can spare.”

Eyes narrowed, Rowdy kept up a steady but unhurried approach. As he drew closer, the man balked, dropping his hands from his hips, looking back at his buddies. As one, they crowded in with silent support, chins out, shoulders squared, mouths sneering—and strides staggered.

Rowdy curled his mouth in a mean, provoking smile. “I know you’re firing on liquid courage, but you really might want to rethink this. Whatever bullshit you’re considering, I’ve been there and done it better.”

“I’m thinking it’s three against one.”

“Lousy odds for you.” Rowdy stopped only inches in front of the other man. “You’ve shown your ass and had your fun. But nothing else is happening here. Not this time. Not ever with her.”

One of the men, heavily bearded like a damned yeti, tried to move to Rowdy’s side. Rowdy stopped him with a look. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

The brazen one laughed. “You seriously want to fight all of us?”

“There wouldn’t be a fight.” The burning urge for violence uncoiled inside him. “I can prove it if you need me to, but it’d be easier on all of us if you just moved on.” Easier on Avery, for sure. He knew when this ended, she’d give him all kinds of hell.

Soured beer breath assaulted Rowdy when the man bumped closer to him. “We’re allowed to be here.”

Rowdy didn’t budge an inch. Sometimes men just needed to let off steam. He got that.

Hell, he felt it himself right now.

“Here in the lot, sure.” He leaned in—forcing the shorter man to lean back. “But you’re not allowed to disrespect her or bother her, and you sure as hell aren’t allowed to get near her.”

In a belated bid for control, the guy lifted both hands to shove Rowdy back.

Bad move.

Using his momentum against him, Rowdy pulled the fool forward, off balance, and clipped him in the face with his elbow. The drunk sprawled to the ground, landing on the rough gravel with a painful curse.

The yeti swung but Rowdy dodged the fist, then delivered one short jab to the bloated beer gut. On a sharp exhalation, the bigfoot went down hard over his buddy.

“Fucking asshole,” the third man said, charging forward.

Rowdy leaned to the left and brought up his knee, catching the shorter man in the chin. He stumbled backward, stood frozen for a second and then crumpled to the ground.

The first man showed signs of life, groaning from beneath the ape. Rowdy stood there, fists clenched, wanting him to get up. He still sizzled with unspent tension.

He wanted, needed, a real fight.

What happened instead left him very dissatisfied.

The third guy slid on the gravel until his feet found purchase, then he lurched away, a hand to his nose to stem the flow of blood. He literally fled the scene and never once looked back.

Well, hell.

The second guy sat up, grumbling and holding his big gut. Calling Rowdy names in a low, whiny voice, he got to his feet. Meaty arms wrapped around his belly, he staggered off after his buddy.

The first man down stay sprawled on his back.

Rowdy crouched beside him. “You’re a disappointment, man. I really wanted to take you apart, but you’re drunker than I realized.”

“Fuck you,” he grumbled in a very slurred voice. Unbelievably, he curled to his side and stopped moving.

Narrowing his gaze, Rowdy waited—and heard the drunk’s breathing even out. “No way.” He nudged the guy, but only got a snuffling groan that went back into a near snore. Rowdy shot to his feet.
“Goddamn it.”

“I take it you wanted more sport?”

Jerking around, Rowdy found himself facing three other guys. This group was younger than the first, physically fit and from all appearances, clearheaded.

A slow smile lifted his mouth.

Maybe he’d get the fight he wanted after all.

CHAPTER FIVE

T
HE
YOUNG
MAN
who’d spoken smiled right back. Watching the drunks retreat, he said, “Relax, man. We’re innocent bystanders, just taking in the show.” Stance relaxed, he shrugged. “Not that there was all that much to see.”

“Unfortunately.” Rowdy did a quick evaluation. This guy looked to be early twenties, maybe six-two. Dressed in jeans, sneakers and a flannel shirt, with a stocking cap pulled over his hair.

The worn clothes didn’t hide a ripped physique.

The smile showed confidence, and maybe even amusement, which meant he wasn’t worried about handling himself.

The two behind him looked more ragtag, and while also fit, more on the average side. One of them held a cola can and an expression of boredom. The other crossed his arms over his chest in a show of antagonism.

They weren’t intimidated by the pathetic beat down they’d just witnessed, and why should they be?

Rowdy hoped like hell that Avery stayed put in the apartment building. “Out for an evening stroll, huh?”

Cockiness widened his smile even more. “Something like that.” He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets and nudged aside a broken bottle with the toe of his shoes. “Loudmouths and litterbugs. What’s the world coming to?”

Poverty had carved false daring into many personalities, maybe even his own. Rowdy would disabuse the young men of any forward intent right now. “They can be as loud as they want, and trash the place for all I care. But they won’t—”

“Go near the lady? Yeah, I got that.” He looked over his shoulder at his pals. “You guys mind picking up these bottles? Some kid will come through here and shred his feet.”

To Rowdy’s surprise, the backup came forward and began picking up broken glass.

“I’m Cannon Colter.” The talker gestured with his shoulder to the apartment building. “You live around here?”

The door to the apartment squeaked like a horror movie when Avery tried to sneak it open. Shit, shit, shit. Should he lie? Should he say he was with Avery each night to deter any thoughts of bugging her?

Cannon leaned forward. “We don’t do that, so relax.”

Feeling like an unscripted extra in a very bad play, Rowdy said, “Do what?”

“Hassle women.” Cannon shook his head. “Not our thing.”

“So what is your thing?”

He withdrew a little, looking up at the lightening sky, then the convenience store, before giving Rowdy a direct stare. “We grew up here. I hate seeing those creeps foul the place up more than it already is.”

“Is that so?”

“And I have a little sis.” He lifted his brows as if that explained everything.

Being a big brother himself, Rowdy supposed it did. Cannon—
and here he thought Rowdy was an odd name—
didn’t want his sister bothered by the scum. He dared a quick glance back, but luckily, even though Avery had poked her head out the door, she’d stayed inside as he’d...asked. Okay, so it’d been more of an order. He’d apologize for that as soon as he got this wrapped up.

Cannon looked at Avery, too. “Sorry, man, but she sticks out like a sore thumb.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“She’s gonna draw drunks like flies to manure.”

Glad that Avery hadn’t caught that comment, Rowdy fought off a grin. He could only imagine how she’d react if she heard that particular comparison. “Yup.”

“You’re the first guy she’s brought here.”

Good info, even if it wasn’t any of his business. “You noticed?”

“I pay attention.” His brows lifted. “And she’s pretty noticeable.”

Rowdy couldn’t help but be curious. “How long has she lived here?”

“About a year or so. Something like that.”

“She’s always on the lookout, too,” another offered.

“Yeah. She is,” said the smallest of the three, which didn’t really make him small. “She’s real cautious.”

Rowdy would call that smart, given the area. “Have you actually seen anyone bother her?”

“Nah, but if you want, we can keep an eye out.”

Cannon grinned. “She keeps that li’l bottle of pepper spray in her hand and she mean mugs anyone who looks her way.”

“You?”

Cannon lifted both hands. “Not me. We already settled that, right? But I’ve seen other dudes looking her over.”

Rowdy scowled. It took him less than three seconds to make up his mind. Pulling out his wallet, he took out three twenties, one for each of them, with an equal number of business cards for the bar. His cell was listed below the bar number.

Holding out the bills and cards, he said, “Think of this as a down payment. You ever see anyone bothering her, call either of the numbers. Ask for Rowdy. I’ll pay you for the trouble.”

The temperature dropped about ten degrees in Cannon’s expression. “Keep your money.” He took all three cards. “I don’t need to be paid not to be an asshole.”

Slowly, Rowdy withdrew the offered bills. “All right.” He’d rather bust his knuckles on a hardheaded bully than insult an honest man’s pride. “Sorry for the misunderstanding.”

“Forget it.” He studied the card. “You’re Rowdy? As in the owner of the bar?”

“You know it?”

“I know you kicked a bunch of dope dealers to the curb when you took over.” He met his gaze. “Appreciate that.”

“It was my pleasure.” Rowdy got the feeling that Cannon took the cleanup of the bar as a personal favor. For a young guy, he had his nose in a lot of business. Interesting. “If you’re ever in the area, stop in for a drink on the house.”

“I just might take you up on that.” He shoved one card into his back pocket and went to his friends to hand out the other two. “See you around, Rowdy.”

Watching the three of them cut across the lot and disappear into an alley, Rowdy decided he’d do a little research on Cannon, as well as the car that had tailed him.

Funny that making a smidge of headway with Avery had unearthed more questions than answers.

Walking off, Rowdy wondered if Avery had locked him out or if he’d be able to tell her good-night. She surprised him by opening the door again before he reached it.

Brows pinched, she greeted him with, “Are you
insane?
”

Could be. She had that effect on him. “Calm down, honey. Everything’s fine.”

“
Fine?
You could have been killed!”

He snorted, which only seemed to infuriate her more. “Those guys could barely stay on their feet.” He stepped in and secured the door behind him, noting again what a crappy lock it was.

“What if one of them had been armed?”

Apparently a shrug wasn’t the right answer.

“Ohmigod,” she said dramatically. “You
are
insane. And that second group was not inebriated.”

“They weren’t hostile, either.”

“Something you didn’t know until
after
you’d faced off with them.” She thrust up her chin. “What did you and the hottie talk about for so long?”

Oh, hell, no. Slowly, Rowdy gave up his inspection of the lock to face her.

Bristling head to toe, he stiffened his shoulders and stared down at her with intimidating heat. “Hottie?” he whispered.

The glare was wasted on her. “You know who I mean. The good-looking kid? The one built like an athlete.”

Jealousy sucked, adding pure gravel to his tone. “He’s only a few years younger than you, so hardly a kid.”

Her turn to shrug, and damn it, he didn’t like it much more than she had. But when she patted his chest—presumably to reassure him—Rowdy felt compelled to let it go.

“I gave him a card and told him to come by the bar sometime.” Before he made an even bigger ass of himself, Rowdy put an arm around her and steered her away from the front door. “If he does show up, let me know immediately.” Rowdy didn’t have reason to distrust Cannon, but he didn’t take chances unnecessarily.

And with the way Avery had described the guy, he was even less inclined to risk leaving her alone with him.

“Okay.”

“By the way.” He kissed her temple. “Thanks for staying inside.”

“I’m not an idiot.” She lifted her hand with the cell phone in it. “But I almost called the police.”

Definitely not what he needed. “Don’t ever do that.”

Stubbornness sharpened her expression and launched her to her tiptoes. “I will if I think it’s necessary!”

Damn it. Again Rowdy tried to stare her down, but it didn’t even come close to working. On a tight exhalation, he took her phone from her, saying, “If
you
ever need the cops, call 9-1-1. But if it’s for me, just call Logan or Reese.” He pressed several buttons. “Their numbers are now saved in your contacts.” He dropped her phone back in her purse.

“Really?”

“Sure. Why not?”

For some reason Rowdy couldn’t understand, Avery smiled in pleasure. “Thank you.”

That smile of hers could work magic. Forcing himself to look away, Rowdy took in the main floor of the building. He now understood the reason she came in the back door instead of the better-lit front. The house had literally been divided in two with a wall erected in the middle to separate the halves.

A door to his right led to the first apartment, with stairs leading up the second. He assumed the layout would be the same in the front. “Do you know your neighbors?”
Please let her say no.

She shook her head. “I keep to myself.”

Just as Cannon had claimed. “Glad to hear it.” Even here in the foyer, the building looked run-down with chipped, dirty paint and carpet so gross he hated to walk on it even in his shoes. Praying it’d be the latter, Rowdy asked, “First floor or second?”

“I’m up.” She started ahead of him, her keys in hand. “I understood the first exchange easily enough. But you did more than exchange cards with that second group of guys, right? So what did you talk about?”

Fudging the truth just a little, Rowdy said, “I told them you were off-limits.” At the top of the stairs, he took her arm. “You’ll let me know if anyone bothers you, okay?”

“No one will, but thank you.”

Though it’d soon be morning and her eyes were a little tired, she was still so incredibly sexy to him. That abundance of red hair trailed around her shoulders and over her breasts.

He brushed it back. “Let me have your keys.”

Suddenly shy, her gaze dropped away from his. “What are you going to do?”

“Check it out, make sure you’re alone.”

That brought her attention back with startled worry. “You think someone could have gotten in?”

He squeezed her shoulders. “Probably not, but I’ll feel better once I see how safe your place is.”

A pulse fluttered in her throat as she stared at his mouth. “I’m not sure...”

Damn but she could tempt a saint, so what chance did a sinner like him have? “I’ll look around, check on things and then leave.”

“I suppose you’re good at picking out security problems.” Looking at the door again, she made up her mind. “Okay, thank you. I appreciate it.” She handed over her keys.

Rowdy was so used to her stubborn streak of independence, he didn’t quite trust her when she was like this. She hid something—but what?

The setup of the building sucked. Here on the landing, she was trapped. No window, no door but into her apartment. He unlocked and opened the door, reached inside and found a light switch. Unlike at his place, lamps came on beside a stuffed couch.

Rowdy brought her in with him, left the door open and said, “Wait here.” Before she could protest, he went through the apartment, glancing long enough at the small open kitchen to see a box of Cocoa Puffs sitting on the counter. Cold, sugary cereal, huh? Somehow that fit.

The first door led to a miniscule bathroom with a cluttered counter. Makeup, blow-dryer, a basket of girlie-looking headbands and hair ties. He pushed back the shower curtain and found an array of bottles surrounding the narrow tub—shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, bubble bath.

The woman took her bathing very seriously.

He left that room and glanced into a hall closet that held her towels, extra blanket and pillow and more toiletries. Avery said not a single word as he went into her bedroom.

First things first, he checked her closet, moving her clothes around to look behind them. She had a wardrobe of T-shirts, sweatshirts, sweaters and jeans, with only a few dresses and skirts thrown in. A pile of shoes and boots littered the floor of the closet. He never would have pegged Avery to be so messy, but he kind of liked it.

He didn’t see any real dirt, just a whole bunch of disorganization.

Her bedroom window overlooked the convenience store and the now-empty lot. After checking the lock on her window, he closed the curtains and bent to peek under her unmade bed. Nothing but dust bunnies, a stray sock and a suitcase. Too curious to let it go, Rowdy tugged at the luggage handle.

It wasn’t empty.

So Avery kept a packed suitcase under her bed. For an emergency exit?

Straightening again, he took a moment to look over her room. Not as utilitarian as his; she had knickknacks everywhere. Change and a few pieces of jewelry littered the single dresser. A scented candle and a book rested on her nightstand. He touched the fluffy comforter and supersoft sheets on her bed. She had three pillows.

“Rowdy?”

“Be right there.” Trying to remove the image of her curled up all warm and sleepy in that bed, he walked out feeling strangely...enlightened.

His bartender didn’t live like a woman from a pampered upbringing. In fact, her messy apartment didn’t look much different from where his sister used to hide out.

Secrets. Avery had them in spades. How hard would it be for him to uncover them?

* * *

W
ITH
A
STRANGE
sensation of anticipation humming in her veins, Avery watched as Rowdy prowled her apartment. She shouldn’t have left it so cluttered, but there never seemed to be enough hours in the day to do everything that needed to be done.

She had Sundays off, but usually slept late and then spent the day running errands and doing laundry. Who had time to clean?

When Rowdy emerged from her bedroom, her heart thumped harder. “Done snooping?”