Punk Rox Warrior (2 page)

few days off.”

Her mouth opened to blast him with no less than a dozen

expletives, he presumed, when he bent down and scooped a duffel bag

off the hall floor, slung it over his broad shoulders, and announced in

an authoritative voice, “Now, show me where I’ll be sleeping.”

“Sorry, G.I. Joe!” She snarled. Her stubborn little chin jutting out,

she looked like a furious kitten looking for a brawl. “I don’t play with action figures anymore. It’s bad enough my mother is all of a sudden

so interested in my life, but you’re not stepping foot into my

apartment! Why don’t you go shack up with She-Ra!”

Lord, how many cartoons does this chick watch?
Pulling his long fingers through his hair, he blew out a harsh breath. “Look, lady!” he

yelled, bending down and getting nose to nose with her. “I’m really

sorry that my shadowing your spoiled ass is going to interfere with

your drug-induced orgies, but I have a job to do! I intend to do it with or without your cooperation! Now, we can do this the easy way or we

can do this my way. Your choice!”

* * * *

Rainne stood dumbfounded in her kitchen waiting for the garlic

bread to finish up in the oven and trying to calm herself by

concentrating on her favorite Dead Kennedys album she was playing.

It wasn’t working. She still couldn’t believe she’d let him in, but

when his cool blue eyes glared down at her with murderous intent, she

didn’t feel she had a choice. Her pussy was still wet thinking about

those eyes.
Jeez, when do I fall off the wall because of a pair of eyes?

She mentally cussed herself out.
Lord, could my nipples have gotten
any harder when he grabbed my arm?
It was bad enough that he had to follow her everywhere, but did he really have to stay here? She

didn’t play well with others, and she liked, no, loved living alone.

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Rachel Cron

Fuck!
she screamed mentally. He was like a bulldozer on legs. As soon as she showed him the couch he’d be parked on for an

undetermined amount of time, he kicked into high gear. First, he

swept the apartment for bugs, as he called them. Then he rummaged

through her drawers looking for drugs. Rainne knew her mother

believed her to be a drug and sex addict, but it was unreal how

determined he was in his search.

The realization of what he had seen in her bedroom drawers had

made her want to melt into a puddle of humiliation on the floor. Her

phone was now tapped. He took her cell phone.
My cell phone!
her brain screeched. She loved her ringtones. Not only were they hard to

find, but they brightened even the worst day when her phone rang.

She had just acquired that new phone cover. The one he replaced it

with had some high-tech tracking crap on it. Rainne really had tried to

listen when he explained it, but all she heard was that she wasn’t

allowed to put stickers on it. She was also outfitted with a tracking

device in her purse, and a GPS unit was hidden in her car.

When had her life spun so out of control? One minute she had a

nice little business helping the handicapped and elderly with their

daily lives. The next...Well, at least her band was still on track. Music had been her one and only outlet since before she could remember. It

just seemed to call to her. No matter the time, place, outfit, or mind-

set, there was a song to fit. She surrounded herself with music like

people wrap themselves in blankets. The oven timer snapped her out

of her mental ass kicking.
Hopefully
, she thought,
this guy is as good
as he appears and he’d be gone soon.

* * * *

What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
As James stood under the frigid water of the shower trying to get his rock-hard cock to recede,

the thought fluttered around and around in his head. Since he left the

service, he had done security. It wasn’t the best gig, but you stick with
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13

what you know. Never anything like this mess, though. He guarded

heads of state, foreign diplomats. If the money hadn’t been so good,

he’d have laughed that lady right back into her BMW. She seemed so

determined to find her daughter’s stalker. An ex-boyfriend she’d said,

drug dealer.

Rainne wasn’t exactly put together, but something was amiss. He

hadn’t found any evidence at all that she was wrapped up in any kind

of drugs. The background check he’d run before heading down here

turned up nothing. No arrests, no tickets, nothing. The only evidence

of a boyfriend past or present was a few bad porn movies on her

computer, stacks of erotic novels, and one of the smallest vibrators

he’d ever seen. The flush in her cheeks when he’d found it in her

drawer along with all that lacy underwear...Whores didn’t blush when

someone raided their underwear drawers. He let out a soft groan

thinking about that blush.
Ugh! What the hell was I thinking?
His mind howled. She was the opposite of his type.
Blue lipstick? Who the
hell wore blue lipstick? It looks ridiculous.
Still, he couldn’t get over the blinding fact that all he could think of was those blue lips

encircling his dick. This was a nightmare. He’d do his job and go

home to his solitary existence. As he turned off the shower, he

grimaced.
What kind of a hell have I stepped into? What is she

listening to? Is that even music?

Something was definitely out of sorts. When James stepped out of

the bathroom, the heavenly smell of lasagna filled the apartment.

Rainne motioned him to sit and join her for dinner. He noticed that

she had changed her clothes. She now donned a pair of brown cotton

drawstring shorts and a powder blue tank top. The girl liked tattoos.

Her face looked innocent, cute, now that she had washed the makeup

off, but what struck him like a gunshot to the chest were the violet and black bands of bruises around her arms going from her wrists to her

shoulders. As she bent over the inside of the fridge to get two

Mountain Dews, he noticed the polka dot splotches going up and

down her legs. Some were a yellowish tint, old wounds. His cock

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Rachel Cron

would have stood at attention staring at that ass, but instead he had a

stabbing need to strangle the life out of the piece of shit that would

dare to touch her in that manner. Mentally, he paused.
Why do I care?

It was his job to find the person responsible for her attack, but he

never got involved with his jobs. He liked his life, no one to look after or bother him with their bullshit.

* * * *

Rainne shifted nervously in her chair as she ate her salad. He was

staring at her bruises. She hated feeling pitied. She lived her life on

her own terms, without judgment and without her mother’s money.

She didn’t have a lot, but she had her dignity and her privacy. She had

convinced herself that was all she needed. She did understand that

because she kept her mother’s world at arm’s length, it gave Carol’s

imagination free reign to run rampant, and boy did it run. In the past it hadn’t mattered. If only she hadn’t gone to that stupid banquet. It

never occurred to her that he would follow her there. God, she had

just gone out for a smoke to get away from the overbearing comments

surrounding the fact that she was a huge disappointment to her family.

“Looking pretty fine tonight, my little freak.” The memory was so

vivid. She could feel the goose bumps crawling through her

bloodstream. Every time she saw him, her body flipped out. Nausea,

goose bumps, sweating, and a violent uneasiness that made her want

to run for her life swept over her. It had been the first time he’d gotten physical with her, though. He had never even touched her before. She

couldn’t wrap her mind around the hatred he seemed to feel for her.

They didn’t even know each other. If the security team at the party

hadn’t been doing their jobs, she surely would’ve walked away with

more than the concussion and bruises she received in the struggle with

him. At least they had a lead. The cameras got him. Six months of the

sheriff’s department’s bullshit and nothing.

It all would have been worth it if her mother hadn’t been there.

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15

She’d been replaying the scene at the hospital, later that night, in her head over and over again for days now. “How could you bring that

trash to my party?” her mother bellowed as the doctor was stitching

up her scalp. “I’ve never been so humiliated in all my life! My

business partners and clients were there.” Rainne sat silently and

watched while her mother threw a Paris Hilton-sized tantrum.

“Brawling like a white trash couple! You should be on Cops!”

Rainne was snapped out of her mental replay by the deep voice

that sat across from her. “What?”

“Who delivered? I didn’t hear the bell,” he asked, looking at her

with suspicious eyes.

“I made it two days ago and froze it. Good thing I did because I

was supposed to go to the store today. That was until Momzy called

with the fabulous news that I was getting a house guest.” She flashed

him a mocking smile and went back to pushing her salad around her

plate.

“You cooked this? Not too shabby. It’s been a long time since I’ve

had a home-cooked meal. I usually eat at the diner in my town. They

have great chili, cheese fries.” He scooped the last bit of lasagna into his mouth and followed it down with the last of his Dew.

* * * *

As he sat back in his chair, he contemplated her. She was strong,

but uncomfortable in her own skin. She gave off an air of kindness,

almost sweetness, but there was a wall there, high and impassable.

She didn’t trust. That much was obvious, but she could fake it well.

The war in his head was raging. After only a few hours, he felt like he

knew all he needed to know, but wanted to to know so much more.

What he was warring over were the whys and the why-not’s.

* * * *

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Rachel Cron

With a crooked eyebrow, she mocked him from across the table.

“I am capable enough to feed myself.” She snorted.
Look at him,
she thought,
smug,
the opposite of what she went for in a guy. She liked her men with hair to match her rainbow lipsticks. A boy she could

share belts with. He was seeping testosterone, almost choking her. It

repulsed her that she couldn’t get the smell of him out of her head.

When he had grabbed her in the hall, he’d been so close. His scent

assaulted her. Pure male. She felt her face flush just thinking about it.

She felt like a stupid little girl in his presence. She saw how he

scoffed at her apartment, her blood red walls and her colorful

furniture. Her head told her he was
too serious
. He probably liked skinny blonde bimbos with fake boobs and fake personalities. Her

head beat at her from the inside,
not for you!
Yet when he walked near her, her body told her he was exactly what she needed, and so

much more if the bulge he had in his pants in the hall was any

indication.
I wonder what he would taste like?

Leaping from her chair and grabbing their plates, she headed for

the sink and vigorously started washing them. She had to pull her shit

together.
Not good, my p
p
ussy is leaking like a faucet. Why, s
he asked herself. She had to get these thoughts out of her head. She

wasn’t a doormat for men. She refused to be weak and start acting

like those little country club girls her mom had been trying to turn her into for the last thirty years.

“You okay? You seem kind of jumpy?”

“Fine!” she snapped. “I’m just not comfortable sharing

pleasantries with one of my mother’s spies!” Slamming the sponge

down into the water, she scurried to her room, and locking the door

behind her, she sank to the floor. Bringing her knees to her chest, she

wondered what the hell she was going to do. She had to get out of

here. Grabbing the closest pair of jeans and yanking them on, she

laced up her green Doc Martens, jerked a hoodie off her door, and

climbed out the bedroom window and down the fire escape.

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17

* * * *

“What the hell was that all about?” he muttered under his breath.

Still sitting in his chair at the table, he could do nothing but shake his head as he slowly raised himself from his seat. Very slowly. The steel

rod bulging under his jeans was making it impossible to move

comfortably. This was his worst nightmare. Her mother had been very

specific with her instructions. She made it very clear he was not to

fuck her, not to let her engage in any destructive behavior, and not to

let her out of his sight. They were to find the ex-boyfriend and turn

him over to the authorities for the assault. Her mother had been

adamant that she would throw herself at him. She had done just the

opposite, even though it had been obvious to him that she wanted to

do just that. He could practically smell the cream dripping from her

cunt. It was mixed with a hint of peaches. He’d always been partial to