One to Protect (One to Hold Book 3) (13 page)

He catches both my hands in his. “I won’t risk you or the baby being hurt. We’ll end the long distance arrangement after we finish this job.”

“How long?” After all he just said to me, I feel our pending separation more acutely than ever.

“A week? Two tops, and I’ll keep in touch with you the entire time.”

“Two weeks? That’s longer than we’ve spent apart since Christmas.”

“Believe me. I’ll be doing everything in my power to make it end sooner.” His phone buzzes, and when he looks at the face, he starts to rise. “It’s Patrick. We’ve got to get moving.”

Tears heat my eyes as I follow him back toward my house. I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold it together until he’s away. “It hurts more than ever this time.” My voice is soft, and I’m fighting as hard as I can. It’s difficult between my fears for him and what he just shared—and a healthy dose of pregnancy hormones. Still, I don’t want his last sight of me to be crying.

I follow him back to my bedroom, where he stops and hugs me close. My face is against his chest, and his fingers thread into my hair at the base of my neck. Several seconds pass and we only hold each other, sharing our breath, melting together. Another buzz from his damn phone, and he releases me.

Quickly he pushes his clothes into his duffel and takes the keys. In the kitchen he stops and pulls me close again. “I promise not to prolong this.” Turning me to the side, he puts a large hand over my tiny baby bump. “Love you,” he whispers, and I catch his cheek, guiding his lips to mine.

I’m off the floor in his embrace. Mouths open, tongues unite, I’m kissing him like he’s headed into battle, which in a sense he is. My only comfort is Patrick’s promise to have his back.

Another buzz, and I almost forget I’m on Team Patrick now. “I don’t want you to go.” I whimper.

“I know.” He sets me down and gives me a peck on the nose, another on the forehead as he inhales deeply. “I love your scent.”

“I love you.”

“Love you more.”

And with that, he’s gone.

Chapter 9: Not the Good Guys

Derek

Baltimore is cold and windy when we arrive. Patrick’s booked us three rooms in the Four Seasons on Harbor East—perfect for our setup, and close to potential hook-up locations. I’ve promised Melissa to make this happen as quickly as possible, but the truth is, we’ve got to establish ourselves in this location, make a plan, and scout the best place for the ultimate encounter.

Toni arrived the night before, and she’s asked to go by Star Brandon again for this gig. Seems that’s her go-to alias. We meet at the bar for our first planning session.

“You don’t think Star sounds too… hooker-ish?” Patrick is frowning as he studies the drink menu.

Toni… or Star is wearing a cream, Calvin Klein dress that hugs her slim body and ends mid-thigh. Her long hair is now wavy and colored light brown, and she’s wearing about eighty percent less makeup than at the Skinniflute. Light-brown eyeliner and mascara, pale pink lips. I hate to admit it, but she does resemble Melissa. She’s hot.

“You fell for it.” Her mouth is the only thing that gives her away—and her husky smoker’s voice.

“You were also a blonde.” Patrick laughs and has the decency to appear ashamed of himself.

I lift the tumbler of Scotch I ordered. “You’re going to have to fix your delivery to catch Sloan’s interest.”

Instantly, her voice turns soft and high, slightly breathy. “My delivery? Is this what you mean?” She blinks up at me with doe eyes.

“Shit,” I sip the beverage. “I don’t get to say this very often, but Patrick was right. You’re good.”

She smiles and lifts the vodka she ordered, holding it out to clink my glass. “Trust me, big boy. I’ll nail this bastard for you.”

“That’s the only reason I’m here.” I give her tumbler a bump.

Patrick lifts his drink off the bar and takes her elbow. “Let’s find a place where we won’t be overheard.”

In a corner booth near the back of the hotel bar, we group close together to strategize. “Bennett is keeping tabs on Sloan, putting together a schedule of his week, his favorite haunts.”

“Why am I here?” Star’s watching me. “I mean, what reason do I give for being in the city?”

Fuck, she’s smart. “I can tell you’ve done this before. What are you comfortable doing? What’s familiar?”

“Patrick fell for me being a temp. I could say I’m with Contemporary Staffing?”

My partner leans back to sip his drink. “Is that classy enough for our guy?”

Thinking about what I know, I study the table. “It’s probably the best thing. It’s why you need extra money. Perhaps you’ve come up from DC?”

“Where I was shagging a senator.” Her dark eyes twinkle, and I’m mildly disturbed that her alibi is so believable.

“Yes. It’ll appeal to his ego. You’re good enough for the powerful.”

Patrick nods. “Now we just need to work out the initial encounter and hooking him.”

“I’ll hook him.” Star’s eyes slide over to my partner. “I give a hell of a hummer, remember?”

Clearing his throat, Patrick stands. “I need a fresh drink. Anybody else?”

I nod. “Thanks.” When he’s away, I turn back to Star. “You’ll probably have to meet him more than once to get us what we need. I doubt he gets rough the first time. How do you feel about that?”

“I want to work out with you guys.”

That wasn’t the answer I expected. “What does that have to do with—”

“Yes.” She’s dead serious, so I hold back and listen. “I’ll probably have to fuck him at least once before we get what we need, but I’ve been taking kickboxing classes. I want you guys to help me get stronger.”

My eyes narrow. “What’s on your mind?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Revenge.”

The workout room at the Four Seasons is state of the art, as to be expected in a five-star hotel, but I catch a cab to the Druid Hill YMCA instead. Patrick takes the city bus; Star takes the Metro. We don’t want to be seen together too much around our location.

Bennett has verified we can stage an encounter with Sloan easily in Little Italy. It seems our target is a Thursday night regular at the Oceanaire Seafood Room. It’s perfect, and gives us a few days to scout more secluded spots nearby. Somewhere Star can take him where Patrick and I can be in the shadows, waiting.

“I can’t wear a wire.” Star is curling the bar I’ve loaded for her with fifty pounds. “If he starts exploring under my clothes, it’s too risky.”

We’re in a somewhat private area of the gym, but we still need to be speaking in code. “The last thing I’m interested in is hearing you
interact
with him, but you’re all we’ve got in terms of capture.”

Patrick’s nearby curling dumbbells. “It’s true, and I don’t like you getting too far out of our reach with him.”

Star curls one more time and puts the bar down. “So you two get a peep show.” She shrugs. “I’ve done worse for an audience.”

My partner puts down the weights and picks up his towel, holding it in front of his mouth as if he’s wiping away sweat. “What are you planning? I expect it’ll take two… maybe three encounters before he’ll show his true colors. Hopefully, not more.”

“First night, drinks, making out, BJ most likely.” She’s holding her towel in a similar fashion as Patrick, over her face, pressing it to her forehead. I’m sitting on the bench, leaned forward doing curls, pretending not to listen as she continues. “Second night, more of the same, penetration. Third night, kick his ass.”

Sick fills my stomach. All of this is messed up, and it’s the only way we’re taking my fiancée’s stalker off the grid. His lawyers will have a hard time arguing against a battered hooker full of Sloan’s DNA. I can’t wait to see them try.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” Regardless of her past experience or what she claims, I can’t help asking one more time.

Her expression is hard and flat when she answers me. “Yes. I’m helping you, but I’m also doing this for Tiffany. Now let’s hit the bags.”

Kickboxing.

That evening at the hotel, I’m dead. Strength training is one thing, but strength training combined with two hours of kickboxing is over my limit. My phone has a few missed texts from Melissa, but instead of texting her back, I call.

The sound of her eases the tension in my chest. “Where have you been all day?”

“At the Y. Strength training and kickboxing.”

“Kickboxing?” Her voice goes high. “Honey, I wasn’t implying anything yesterday morning…”

That makes me laugh, remembering our conversation in bed. “We’re helping our bait get better prepared to defend herself.”

“You sound tense again.” Her playful tone is gone. Worry and guilt are in her voice, and my arms long to hold her. “I hate this so much. I hate remembering he’s out there, thinking of that poor girl facing him alone. For me.”

“Star is
not
a poor girl, trust me.”

“Star?”

Lying back on the bed, I rub my forehead. “That seems to be her stage name, so we’re going with it.”

“I guess if she’s taking the risk, she gets to call a few shots.”

“I don’t like it any more than you do.” Sitting up, I study my hand, clenching it into a fist and relaxing. “I’ve gone over it so many times in my mind, trying to find another way.”

She exhales. “What if you’re wrong and I’m not in danger?”

“I’m not wrong, and I won’t let him even think about coming near you.”

“Okay, but just for a moment… what if he’s moved past me?”

Everything in my experience knows that’s not true. Melissa belongs to Sloan in his eyes, and he’ll be back for her. But I know it’s important for her to feel like she’s not the only reason we’re here.

So I give her something else to think about. “You said it yourself—there’s always another Jessica Black. He’s got to be taken off the streets.”

She doesn’t answer, and for a few moments, we’re quiet. “How much longer will you be away?”

“Thursday night will be our first contact. We expect it’ll take a few meetings before he relaxes enough to get rough.” I look out at the setting sun, thinking of all the people living normal lives, doing regular things right now. One day soon, that will be me again. “I expect it to be like I said, two weeks tops.”

“I miss you.” Her voice is sad, and I want to lighten the mood.

“What did you do today?”

Sounds of her moving through her house fill my ear. I can almost see her walking, her dark waves swaying down her back. “Had lunch with Mom, finished Bea’s online storefront. If I were there, I could meet with her in person and be with you.”

I shake my head, even though she can’t see me. “It’s too risky, and if you’re seen here, it could put him on alert. It could jeopardize the whole plan. Just hang tight, okay?”

“Elaine and I’ll probably trade off spending the night together.”

“That’s a great idea. You can keep each other company.”

“She’ll be sexting with Patrick the whole time.”

My eyebrows rise. “I’ll keep you company then.”

“I’d rather do it in person. I could be waiting for you when you get in. Massage that stress away… kiss your skin… naked.” Her words register right below my belt, causing me to shift in my seat.

“Forget the sexting, let’s talk it out now. What are you wearing?”

“Maternity clothes at last!”

I laugh. “How’s the baby?”

“It seems like I’m showing even more since yesterday.” Sadness gone, I can hear her excitement rising. “I really want us together when he starts moving.”

Closing my eyes, I can see her gorgeous body, full breasts, stomach just starting to round out. “When can we find out if you’re right?”

“Twenty weeks is when they usually do ultrasounds for gender.”

It’s getting close. “I’ll be there. Take care of you both.”

The warmth is back. “Love you.”

“Love you more.”

We say goodnight, and for a moment I lie on the bed thinking. If there were any way she could be here, damn straight I’d have her here yesterday. In the meantime, I’ll hit the shower. We’re on our own for dinner, and since my partner is apparently occupied, I want to check out a local jewelry store for something platinum and diamond encrusted.

Thursday couldn’t arrive soon enough, but now that we’re on the verge, our plan feels shakier than ever. We spent the day yesterday locating a private spot off an alleyway. A closed balcony that’s above and somewhat hidden is attached to the restaurant. Patrick managed to talk the staff into letting us use it, and from what he says, he didn’t have to give any information away.

He and I will be up there monitoring, where we can drop down if needed. Star will lead Sloan into the dark alley and do whatever she needs to do. Once the ball is rolling, we’ll tune out unless she gives us the signal.

The real action shouldn’t occur before next week. I’m actually hoping it will, but I have nothing to base it on besides my gut. The true timeline could be longer or shorter.

While we’d waited for Patrick to work his magic on the restaurant staff, Star and I had checked out the access in and out of the small lane that runs behind the businesses.