Trust Me: Matty and Kayla, Book 3 of 3 (The McDaniels Brothers 7) (4 page)

Get it together, woman.

"There are two guards on duty, every night.” I tried to keep my tone all business as I focused my attention on the notepad in front of me, jotting down that information to make it look official-like. “We can't do it any night between a Friday and a Monday. Between the underground fights and sports betting, the place is crawling with people until all hours. Even if they wrap up early, someone stays late to count the cash. Best nights are Tuesday or Wednesday. Everyone is tired from a busy weekend, but they're not ramping up for the next one yet, either. My gut says Tuesday."

"Then Tuesday it is," Matty said simply.

I paused to look up at him, waiting for the catch, but there was none. It wasn't often, even when we'd been together, that we didn't butt heads at least a little. Probably twisted, in a way, but I kind of liked it. There was always a spark, just about to ignite into a full-fledged fire, right under the surface.

We weren't together anymore, though. So I'd take this little win for what it was, and be happy for it.

"I'm going to take advantage of the next week, then. Get together as much stuff as I can, big or small, to bolster whatever we find in the files. I know I can nail him on racketeering and loan sharking at the very least."

Not enough on its own, but it could go far in proving the quality of his character and the fact that he was a career criminal who needed to be off the streets.

"And who knows? Maybe I stumble onto something major and we won't even have to break in."

Matty didn't comment, but the dubious expression on his face reflected my own thoughts on the subject. Mick was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. If there was evidence to connect him to major crimes, he would keep it close to him.

"We also have to expect that, if we do break in and find something, it's going to require some additional research. I keep reminding myself that we're not going to find some file folder marked 'Murders' or something."

"Definitely not," Matty agreed. "But I don’t think we need to get our hands on a readymade blanket to smother him with in order to make this work. All we need is a thread to tug on, and we'll build our case around it."

"Agreed.”

Damn, we were getting along so well, it was starting to scare me a little. I studied the drawing of the warehouse for a few seconds and tapped my index finger against a spot on the West facing perimeter of the building. “So I think the best thing to do is come in through the back fire escape here."

That was one good thing about breaking into a place like this. It was tricked out to make a fast getaway possible if needed, so there were a lot of exit points. Lots of exit points meant lots of entrance points.

Matty hadn’t responded so I continued on, pointing to a window on the second floor. “I say we come in through this office, and then go down the hall. The night guys have been here for years. The indoor guard patrols every half hour, but the area cops have been on the books for so long, and all the other criminals in the area are too afraid to screw with Mick, so the guards have gotten lazy and comfortable. Nothing ever happens so they expect nothing to continue happening."

I looked up to gauge his reaction and he was nodding thoughtfully. "Definitely a point in our favor."

A knock on the door halted our conversation and he was up and making his way across the room before I could even grab my purse. He paid the delivery guy and closed the door behind him.

"Kitchen or living room?"

We wound up setting up the food on the coffee table and eating while we talked through the rest of the plan. Things went more smoothly than I could have hoped. It was grim work, and there was a very real element of danger to what we were about to do, but the more time we spent together, the easier it got to compartmentalize.

I wouldn’t think about the Matty who had bent me over this very table and slid my underwear to the side because he couldn’t wait to be inside me. Instead, I’d keep my mind on this Matty. The one who was going to help me make sure my father was punished for his deeds. The one who I was going to help get out from under Mick’s thumb.

I was just getting comfortable with the idea that maybe we could get through this ordeal without hurting each other more than we already had. Then, right as we were wrapping it up, he smiled at me.

The first genuine smile I’d seen on his face since before I’d left the arena that night. And it wrecked me. Tears flooded my eyes and this time, there was no stopping them. The dam gave way, and I went from wiping taquito crumbs off the couch to sobbing in five seconds flat.

“Ah, Jesus, Red. Please don’t,” he murmured.

I mumbled an apology, covering my face with my hands.

“Don’t apologize. I just…I don’t know what I’m supposed to-”

He broke off and an instant later, I was off the ground and cradled in his lap like a baby as he murmured soft reassurances in my ear.

I didn’t know what he was saying. Didn’t care. I just burrowed deeper into the refuge of his arms, letting the heat of him warm me and breathing in the scent that was all his. Whatever I’d told him, I couldn’t have done this without him. Physically, maybe. But emotionally? I was hanging on by the thinnest of threads. One stiff wind and I was a goner.

So much was riding on me to get this right. And if I did? The man who had saved me from a life of abuse would be going to prison and would hate me forever. Because in real life, there were no happy endings. I’d seen it enough to know it was true, but this sealed the deal.

I stayed there longer than I should have because I couldn’t bear to let him go. By the time I stirred, my foot was asleep and my tears had long dried. I squeezed Matty’s arm and he loosened his hold on me.

“All right for now?” he asked softly as I stood.

He followed suit and looked down at me searchingly, his eyes so full of care and concern, the waterworks nearly started all over again.

I nodded and sucked in a shuddering breath. “Yeah. Good. Sorry, you shouldn’t have to deal with that.”

My cheeks flushed as I led the way to the door and waited for him to follow. I was flip-flopping like a catfish, and my emotions were on a hair-trigger. He was probably desperate to get away from me by now, and I didn’t blame him one bit.

“It won’t happen again.”

“It’s okay if it does.” He crossed the room to join me in the entranceway, his shirt still damp from my tears. “I want to be here for you if you need me.”

So maybe he wasn’t so desperate to escape. I bit my lip, afraid if I opened my mouth to talk that I’d beg him to stay. To hold me all night and keep the ghosts away.

"I know that this thing with Mick is the priority. And I won't press you. But I don't want you to get it twisted. I still want you. I still need you.” He cupped my chin in his hand, forcing me to look up at him, his gaze like liquid fire. “And when this is over, and you’ve had a chance to come to terms with it all, I'm coming for you, balls to the wall."

He dipped his head and dropped a hard kiss to my lips before pulling back to look down at me.

“I fucking love you, Red. And I’m not going to quit on us that easy.” And with that bomb dropped, he turned on his heel and strode down the hall without looking back.

My heart beat so hard it hurt as his words rained over me on instant replay.

He loved me. Matty McDaniels had just said he fucking loved me.

It was a solid three minutes before I remembered to close the door, and I slumped against it with a groan. My feelings were so close to the surface and so volatile, I already felt like I was about to fracture into a million pieces. This revelation only added to the turmoil.

But as I lay in bed that night, I couldn’t deny the kernel of joy that had bloomed inside me at his words. It was like still being wrapped in his arms, even hours later.

And for the first time in more than a week, I slept.

Matty

Weird how things never work out the way we plan.

From the time I agreed to it, to the night it happened, I had no intention of letting Kayla come with me to break into the warehouse. In fact, I'd already resigned myself to her hating me when she found out I’d just been going along with it because she wasn’t in any condition to deal with more arguments from me.

Over the next week, though, she called me every night after work, sending me pictures and emails with attachments of all the little bits and pieces she'd gathered about Mickey in the course of her day.

And she'd found a lot.

Proof of tax fraud, money laundering and-- most disturbing to both of us-- prostitution involving teenaged girls. That last one had really lit a fire in her, and she'd been even more determined since then. So when Tuesday night finally came and I went to her house to pick her up, my plan to let her know I was going it alone disintegrated the second I saw her.

I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Not after she’d proven, day after day, that she had faith in me. That she trusted me with this precious information. Believed that I would follow through on my end of the bargain. As much as I wanted to protect her, I knew that betraying that trust would be as damaging emotionally to her as anything Mickey could do to her if we got caught.

That didn’t stop me from being scared shitless about her safety, though. I made a vow to myself then and there to protect her at any cost. If something happened to her, I’d be right there beside her, whether it was in a prison cell, in a hospital, or--

I refused to finish that thought.

"Take a right here," she said softly, her voice barely discernible over the running engine.

I did as she said and hung a right down the tree-lined street behind the warehouse.

"We can hike through this little patch of woods and we'll end up right in the rear parking lot."

I pulled over to the side of the road, half on the grass, and popped the vehicle into park. With a flick of my wrist, I turned off the ignition and faced her.

Even though we’d talked daily since the night at her apartment, we’d stuck strictly to the topic at hand. Now, with our futures and possibly our lives at risk, I struggled with the feelings pin-balling around inside me.

Right as I was working out what I wanted to say to her, she blew out a sigh and met my gaze. Her face was lit by the soft glow of the streetlight as she wet her lips.

“I want you to know that I appreciate everything you’re doing for me. I was mad. I was hurt. I didn’t want what you said to be true because-” She paused and swallowed hard before continuing. “Because if it was true, that meant I really was alone in the world. And had been all along.”

Instinctively, I reached for her, my stomach aching at the sadness in her eyes. This time, instead of pulling away, she laid her cheek against my hand.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do when this is over. Part of me feels like I’ll never be whole again no matter what happens, you know? I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t expect you to wait for me.”

Her voice broke a little and so did my heart. I don’t know what I’d been expecting when she started, but it wasn’t that.

“What if I want to wait?”

She smiled then, but it was wistful. Weary. Sad.

“I can’t stop you. You’re stubborn like that. But I had to be honest.”

I considered digging deeper. Telling her again how I felt just in case something went seriously sideways and I didn’t have a chance to tell her again. Then I decided that would be too defeatist, and way too depressing.

Screw this maudlin shit. If we were going to go down, we were going down swinging.

“Duly noted,” I said, pulling back and shoving my keys into my pocket. “Now, stop your yammering and remind me what we came here to do, Red.”

I eyed her expectantly, and to my relief, she lifted her chin and nodded. “We came here to nail this motherfucker.”

That was my girl.

No matter how hard it got, when push came to shove, she was a warrior. A bittersweet image of the times we’d sparred at my gym together flitted through my mind. Whatever happened, I hoped she didn’t give up on the dream of moving into the MMA world herself. She was a fighter to the core.

I snagged the duffel bag from the back seat and we headed outside toward the tree line. It was midnight, and the air was still warm and a little sticky, but it sure as hell beat the rain that had been in the forecast. That would’ve presented a ton of problems we didn’t need, from muddy shoes to having both guards indoors rather than one posted outside. I decided to take the clear skies as a good omen.

Kayla led the way through the woods in full on stealth-mode. Even with the half-moon lighting the sky, I could barely make her out in her head to toe black. We walked slowly, but even at that, it only took a couple minutes before we reached the other side of the small, wooded area and a break in the trees.

The warehouse stood in the distance, ugly, stark and imposing. The back parking lot was empty aside from a beat-up, rusty Mustang on cinderblocks in the far corner that had been there long before Mick had bought the place.