Nothing To Lose: A Grey Justice Novel (19 page)

Justice’s mouth twitched as if he was slightly amused by the question. “As far as we need to but not near as far as we’d like.”

“Murder?”

“I have yet to authorize a murder.”

Not the definitive answer he was looking for, but he could understand the man’s reticence. “You want to tell me how you got the sheriff to confess to a payoff?”

Justice shrugged. “Easy enough. This incident involved a small town in south Texas and not terribly sophisticated criminals. We tracked a deposit the sheriff made to a withdrawal by the driver who killed Margarita’s brother. After a little talk with the sheriff, he had a miraculous memory recovery and recalled that the driver had been drinking.”

As an officer of the law, Nick was walking a fine line here. He had sworn to uphold the law and took his oath seriously. But as a man who wanted to see punishment come to those responsible for his best friend’s death and peace for the woman he loved, he had no choice but to say, “Okay, so I’ve seen your superhero setup, but where’s your cape and fancy car?”

“No cape. And the fancy car is in the shop. However, I do have something we picked especially for you. Follow me.”

As Nick followed Justice out the door, leaving behind a world he’d never known existed, optimism began to thrum through his blood. If the Slaters could be nailed any other way, he would have done it in a heartbeat. They couldn’t. Despite some lingering reservations, he was damn glad that Grey Justice was on their side. For the first time since his first bizarre meeting with the man, Nick was beginning to believe they could actually carry this off.

Chapter Sixteen

An exhausted Kennedy let herself into her house. Of all the ways she had envisioned her first day working for Eli, spending the day at an upscale spa had not been on her list. She had been plucked, pruned, and powdered to the nth degree. Vanity had never been one of her flaws, but she had to admit when she’d finally been allowed to look in the mirror, she liked what she saw.

Her skin glowed clear and bright, her hair had an extra sheen to it and her makeup, which had taken almost an hour to apply, made her look like a natural beauty.
 

Fortunately, she wasn’t terribly shy. If she had been, she would’ve had to get over it quickly. Within minutes of stepping into the exclusive and obviously posh beauty retreat, she’d been stripped bare. The beauty technicians, both women and men, acted as if her nudity was just another day at the office. And she supposed, to them, it had been. For her, it had been a lesson in humility. Every inch of her had been assessed and judged. More than once, Kennedy had wanted to reply sarcastically to their blunt and not-always-kind comments. She hadn’t said a word…her reasons for going through the process always at the forefront of her mind. To attract Adam Slater, she needed to look her best. Period.

She stepped into her living room and caught her breath on a startled gasp. A man stood in the middle of the room. Unshaven and scruffy in a sexy “I don’t give a damn” kind of way, the best description she could come up with was “badass.” Though she’d always been more attracted to the clean-cut boy-next-door type, she couldn’t deny the incredible flush of heat when she took in Nick’s new appearance.

“I see you went through your own makeover.” She inwardly winced at the breathlessness in her voice.

“Yeah, but I like yours a helluva lot better than mine.”

She didn’t agree. Nick had always been handsome, but in a cover model kind of way. This Nick reeked of danger, as if with one wrong word, he could take someone apart with his bare hands. Or better yet, rip a woman’s clothes off and kiss her into senseless abandon.

Moving closer, she noticed other, more subtle changes. His light hazel eyes that changed colors with his mood were now a solid, piercing green. His brown hair was sun-streaked and disheveled, as if a woman had enjoyed running her fingers through it. A small hoop earring adorned his right ear, and the black T-shirt he wore beneath the black leather jacket gave a teasing glimpse of a vivid tattoo on his left shoulder.

“Nice tat.”

“Thanks. I’ve had it since I was sixteen.”

“I can’t believe I never noticed before.” She leaned forward, her fingers aching to shove his shirt out of the way. “Is it a bird or something?”

“Raven.” He pulled the material aside and allowed her to see a beautiful rendering of the wild bird. “We were studying Edgar Allan Poe in lit class. I liked his stuff and thought getting the tat was a nice tribute. My mom didn’t agree. Grounded me for a month.”

He dropped his hand, and the T-shirt went back into place. Ridiculously disappointed, she took a step back and looked him over again. “So I guess you’re my biker boyfriend? Or something like that?”

“Yeah.” He grinned, the first carefree one she’d seen on him since he’d come back into her life “That’s the one thing I like about this makeover. Gotta sweet ride out of the deal.”

She laughed softly. “You get a motorcycle, and I get high-heeled stilts to wear.”

His eyes raked up and down her body. The grin disappeared, replaced by a sensual, heated look. If a stranger had looked at her like that, she’d have been insulted. That wasn’t how she felt. Instead, she found herself leaning toward him, seeking his approval in a more physical way.

Hard hands gripped her arms. “Whoa. Guess you’re not used to standing on those stilts.”

Kennedy pulled herself together, thankful Nick had misinterpreted her movements. How embarrassing if he’d realized she had wanted him to touch her, hold her.

One more hot, sweeping gaze from those brilliant green eyes. “This is your new look?”

“Yes.” Stepping a few feet from him, she did a slow turn so he could see the full effect. “Apparently, Adam Slater likes his assistants a little on the slutty side.”

Nick shook his head. Slutty wasn’t the term he would use. There was no way Kennedy could ever look slutty. The short silky black dress clung to her like a second skin, emphasizing soft, beautiful curves. The heels adorning her slender feet showed her long, sleek legs to their best advantage. His mouth went dry. She looked sexy as hell.

“The first time I saw your new hairstyle and color, I thought you looked like a more slender and more beautiful Marilyn Monroe.”

“And now?”

“Not anyone who’s ever existed. Just what every woman would want to look like.”

“Oh…” That little breathy gasp of air did him in every damn time. If those sounds could have been bottled, they’d have given any male-enhancement product a run for its money.

Turning away before she noticed his very inconvenient reaction, he said, “I stopped off at the grocery store and got a few things.”

“You brought home groceries on your bike?”

“Actually, no. I had them delivered. All you had in your fridge was yogurt and the makings for a salad.”

She grimaced. “I’ve been meaning to go to the grocery store. Kind of got sidetracked.”

Nick shook his head as he headed to the kitchen. “Sidetracked” was a monumental understatement. In the course of two days, her entire life had been upended.
 

She followed him into the kitchen. “Wow…you did more than grocery shopping.”

Nick gazed around at not only the food he’d purchased but a few extra things he’d also had delivered, such as an espresso machine, food processor, blender, and cookware. After opening a few cabinets this morning, he had noticed she had only a few essentials. Back in Houston, her kitchen had been filled with all sorts of gadgets, along with expensive cookware. Stocking her kitchen had pleased him.

“So…you cook?”

He smiled, amused at her slightly worried look. “It was just my mom and me when I was growing up. She worked two jobs and came home dead tired. Figured the very least I could do was feed her, so I learned to cook.”

“What about your father? He wasn’t in the picture?”

“Barely. He took off when I was two. Being a husband and a father was just not his thing.”

“And your mom? She’s gone now?”

“We didn’t live in the best neighborhood. Drugged-out punk decided to use people as target practice. My mom was one of them.”

“Oh my gosh, Nick. How old were you?”

“Eighteen. Was about to start my freshman year at Texas A&M.”

“That’s why you were so angry.”

“How’s that?”

“You told me that when you met Thomas, you were one incident away from losing your scholarship, that you were mad at the world. That’s why you were having such a rough time. Because you’d just lost your mom.”

“Yeah.” He opened the fridge and started pulling out food items for dinner. He glanced over his shoulder. “Spaghetti and meat sauce sound okay?”

“Sounds delicious.”

He pushed a cutting board and knife, along with a bowl filled with carrots, celery and mushrooms, toward her. “You chop the vegetables for the salad, I’ll brown the meat for the sauce.”

Pulling out a chair at the table, Kennedy sat down and started chopping. “Did your mom teach you to cook?”

“That and a lot of practice.”

“What was she like?”

In the middle of unwrapping the ground beef, he stopped for a moment to remember the woman who had given him life and to this day still influenced him. “She was kind of quiet, had a good heart. Incredibly strong-willed.” He smiled and added, “She was strict, too. Determined that I stay out of trouble and do well in school. Make something of myself.”

“Did she know you wanted to be a cop?”

“No. Neither did I until after she died.” He shrugged. “I wanted to make the world a safer place and thought being a cop was the way to go.”

“She would be proud of you.”

He went back to preparing the meat sauce. “I’d like to think so.”

As Kennedy chopped vegetables, she thought about how lives could change because of one single incident. Nick became a cop because of his mother’s death. And now she, who had always planned to go to law school and defend the innocent, was pursuing justice for her husband and their baby.

She glanced over at Nick. “The man you met…the day you were shot. What was his name?”

“Milton Ward.”

“How did he have information on the Slaters?”

Nick briefly explained about Ward’s job with the accounting firm that did work for the Slaters.

“And he was shot right after he told you?”

He nodded. “About five minutes after implicating the Slaters in Thomas’s death.”

In the midst of chopping, she almost sliced a finger. “How did he know it was a hit?”

“Careful with that knife.”

She returned to her task, this time going slower. “How did he know about the hit?”

“He heard through the grapevine that two hits had been ordered. His and Thomas’s. He got out of town, but his conscience got the best of him, and he came back.”

“Did he try to contact Thomas…to tell him?”

“I don’t think so. I think he got scared and ran.”

Kennedy drew in a ragged breath. If only Milton Ward had placed one phone call, Thomas might still be alive.

“So he didn’t give you anything?”

“No. We were going together to get the documents.” Nick shrugged, the expression on his face one of self-anger. “I was stupid. I offered him protection but didn’t take it seriously enough. We were about to get into my car when the shooter passed by. I got hit first…never saw Ward go down.”

She still remembered the moment she’d heard Nick had been shot. She had thought herself numb to pain after all she’d been through. She had been wrong. His injury…his possible death, had devastated her.

“I came to see you.”

He whirled around. “When? How?”

“The same night you were shot. Well…actually it was about three the next morning. I stole some scrubs, then snuck into ICU.”

“I didn’t know.” A stupid statement. Of course he hadn’t. He’d been in a coma. But it was the best he could come up with. She had risked her life to come see him.

“So you’d already left your house? Knew about the Slaters?”

“Yes. I went to see the man Thomas steered me to…the one who helped me disappear. I kept calling, wanting to tell you what was going on. I called Julie…she told me what happened. I had to see you before I left for good.”

Emotion clogged his throat. Clearing his voice, he said thickly, “Thank you. You shouldn’t have put yourself at risk like that…but thank you for caring.”

Their eyes locked. Nick held his breath, afraid he was misinterpreting her expression. Was it just hopeful longing or had he glimpsed something in her eyes? Something besides friendship?

“Kennedy, I—”

An obnoxiously shrill buzzing noise shattered the moment, breaking their eye contact and stopping his words. Hell, he hadn’t even known what he was going to say anyway.
 

“What on earth is that?”

“My new cellphone. Someone apparently thought it was funny to make my ring tone the sound of a chain saw.”

Her lips tipped up in a smile. “Chain Saw Gallagher. I like it.”