Hard to Come By

  “I’m gonna ask something, and I apologize in advance if it offends you,” Beckett said. “But is your brother supposed to come to this thing tomorrow?”

  A wariness crept through Emilie’s belly. What would these guys do with Manny if they found him? She’d stepped over quite a few dead bodies on the way out of that storage facility, so she knew they were lethal when they needed to be. But then again, they’d risked themselves to rescue three women they had no connection to. She glanced at Derek, and he gave her a small nod. “He’s supposed to, but he’s not exactly reliable right now,” she finally said. “And the police might pick him up before then.”

  “Possibly, but they gotta find him first. In our experience, that isn’t easy.” Beckett scrubbed his hands over his face. “I think we should let Emilie go, she should host the party, and some of us should go with her in case he shows. Both for protection and to detain him,” Beckett said, crossing his big arms. “This party remains our only solid lead on finding him.”

  The let Emilie go part of what Beckett had said bugged the crap out of her, and she couldn’t bite her tongue. “You don’t get to decide whether to ‘let me go’,” she said, meeting Beckett’s icy blue gaze. “Unless you’ve freed me from that basement only to hold me prisoner yourselves.”

  Derek stepped closer and looked her in the eyes—there was an emptiness in his that unleashed an ache in her chest. “Of course not. He only means it in terms of your safety, Em. We would never force you to stay here, but we don’t want you to go home only to end up in some other lowlife’s basement.”

  Right. That was fair. Way to overreact, Em. “Okay,” she said, feeling chagrined. “I’m sorry. I’m just a little off-kilter after this morning.” She sighed. “What do you plan to do with my brother if he does show up?”

  The men traded glances in some sort of silent conversation. “We need to question him about his role with Church and with Seneka,” Derek said. “Beyond that . . .”

  Nick turned toward her. “Look, your brother can’t remain free no matter what. He’s killed six people this week, and he’s being hunted down by all kinds of people who’d like a million-dollar payday. For his safety and the safety of others, he needs to be taken off the streets.”

  For his safety and the safety of others. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d been thinking about all these days she’d debated filing the petition? She couldn’t disagree with Nick’s assessment, much as it pained her. “Okay, but what exactly does that mean?”

  Nick shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not sure yet. I think the first step is to find him and figure out what’s going on with him, and then go from there. Maybe we drop him at the hospital when we’re done questioning him and he goes into the evaluation process you initiated.”

  That could work, couldn’t it? And, no doubt, it’d be better for these guys to find him than someone like Jeffers, right? Or this Church guy? Right. Didn’t keep her stomach from squeezing, though. “Okay. So, then, I’m going?”

  “Yeah,” Derek said. “But you’re not going alone. Because this party is now part of our mission.”

  THIRTY MINUTES LATER, they’d divided into teams and Marz had packed a bag for the stakeout. He was coming down from the third-floor apartment when he heard the sound of arguing voices echoing through the stairwell. Beckett? But who was the other one?

  He passed the Rixeys’ apartment, where Emilie was waiting for him, and continued down to the first floor. When he reached the last set of steps, he froze at the scene down below. “What the hell are you doing, B?”

  Beckett had his gun trained on a petite woman standing against the cinder block wall outside Hard Ink’s door. “I found her sneaking around. She won’t tell me who she is or what she’s doing here.”

  The woman’s green eyes absolutely blazed as she planted her hands on her hips. “I wasn’t sneaking around, you idiot. I was going upstairs. And who the hell are you, anyway?”

  “I’ll ask the questions,” he said, voice harsh. “Who are you and what are you doing here?”

  Marz made his way down to their level, his gaze on the woman’s face. Something about her was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. She wore a pair of snug dark-blue jeans and a sheer white blouse with a white tank beneath it.

  “I’m not answering your questions,” she said, smirking and crossing her arms. Almost like she was baiting Beckett.

  Jesus.

  “First, because I belong here. Second, because you’re an asshole. And third . . . never mind, those two are enough. Now please lower your weapon before I lose my shit on you.”

  Beckett’s head tilted like he was trying to figure her out. She belonged here?

  Just then, the door to Hard Ink swung open and Jeremy, Ike, and Shane came out, brainstorming plans for camouflaging Hard Ink.

  “Oh, shit. What are you doing here?” Jeremy asked when he saw Beckett and the woman. “Easy big guy.” Jer stepped in front of her and held up his hands. “So, uh, perhaps some introductions are in order.”

  “Jeremy, move out of my way,” the woman said, pushing him to the side. “This is such bullshit. What the hell is going on around here? Who are all these guys?” She leveled her glare at Jeremy.

  “Everyone, this is my sister, Katherine,” Jeremy said, rocking on his feet. “Who has apparently stopped by for a surprise visit.”

  Beckett lowered his weapon on a heartbeat, the severity bleeding out of his expression. Was that . . . Were his cheeks turning red?

  Marz burst out laughing, and both Beckett and Katherine turned scowls on him. “I’m sorry,” he said, laughing so hard his eyes were tearing. “It’s just . . . I have known this man for a decade and never once seen him blush.”

  Jeremy was trying not to laugh. And failing. Chuckling, he gestured to the group. “You know Ike, of course, and these are some of Nick’s friends from the Army, here for a visit.” Jer went through a quick round of introductions, leaving Beckett for last. “And this is Beckett Murda.”

  Katherine flung her long brown hair over her shoulder and eyeballed him. Marz tried to swallow his laughter. But this moment would go down in the history books. Beckett Murda pulled a gun on Nick’s little sister. And blushed when he realized it. Priceless, really.

  “A little head’s up would’ve been nice, Jeremy,” Beckett said. “You know, with the way things are right now.”

  Jeremy held up his hands, inadvertently framing the words on his T-shirt which read, “There’s a party in my pants. You’re invited.” “Sorry. I didn’t know we were expecting company. Besides, shorty here doesn’t really strike me as a threat.”

  She punched Jeremy in the arm. “I may be small but I’m feisty.”

  “Ow,” Jeremy said. “Why do the two of you always hit me?” Grinning, he put an arm around her neck and pulled her in for a hug. “And I know you’re feisty. I now have a bruise to prove it.”

  “Shut up,” she said, smiling. “I didn’t hit you that hard.”

  Footsteps sounded out above them, and Marz turned to see who was coming. Nick and Easy were making their way down, packs over their shoulders.

  When Nick hit the landing above them, he did a double take and froze. “Kat? What are you doing here?” He hustled down to the ground level.

  “It’s nice to see you, too, Nick,” she said with a sigh. “What is with you guys today?”

  “What?” he said, surveying the group. “What am I missing?”

  Marz put his hand over his mouth to hide the grin that grew there, a grin that turned into chuckles as Beckett glared at him.

  Katherine pointed at Beckett. “Rambo over here pinned me to the wall with his gun.”

  Marz lost it again as Nick turned to look at Beckett with a what the fuck? expression on his face.

  “Didn’t know who she was,” he said to Nick in a gruff voice. “Sorry.”

  “Why are you apologizing to him?” she asked. “I was the one you threatened to shoot. And I’d love to know why you couldn’t have just asked
who I was rather than pulling a gun. This isn’t the freaking Wild West,” she said, gesturing with her hands.

  Nick stepped in front of her. “Okay, you’re right. It was just a misunderstanding, right Beckett?”

  “Yeah, sure,” Beckett said, his tone not at all agreeable.

  Katherine rolled her eyes. Marz was back to trying not to chuckle again. He’d never seen someone less intimidated by Beckett Murda than Katherine Rixey.

  “But, seriously, what are you doing here?” Nick asked as he hugged her.

  “Just needed a weekend away, so I thought I’d come hang with you guys. Is that a problem?” she asked, an emotion Marz couldn’t identify flashing through her eyes.

  Nick ran a hand through his hair. “Uh, no. No. Course not. We just, uh, have a lot going on right now.”

  Katherine looked over the group. “Clearly.”

  “We’re doing some construction on the building, so it’s not going to be very relaxing around here,” Nick said.

  She crossed her arms and tilted her head. “Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me?”

  “No, I’m not. I mean, it’s good that you’re here.” Turning to Marz, Nick made an oh shit face. Having his sister here was surely not on his top-ten list for this weekend. Not given the threats hanging over their heads. “So, change of plans. I think I should stay here instead.”

  “I’ll go,” Shane said. “You can help with things around here.”

  “Roger that,” Nick said with a nod.

  “Then let’s get this show on the road,” Marz said. “I’ll go get Emilie.”

  Chapter 18

  I need to go to the grocery store,” Emilie said as they neared Annapolis. She was sure they weren’t going to be thrilled with the news, but it couldn’t be helped.

  “Um, do you have to?” Derek asked, sitting next to her in the backseat of Shane’s truck. “It’d be better to get things scoped out and set up at your house before it gets late.”

  “The thirty people coming tomorrow expect, you know, food and stuff. So, yeah, I’m sure,” she said.

  “All right,” Derek said, his lips twitching like he was trying not to smile. “Just make it as quick as you can.”

  “Between the five of us, it shouldn’t take too long.” And wouldn’t this be fun.

  “Uh, come again?” Beckett said, twisting around to look at her from the front seat.

  “You all can help,” she said, smiling just a little at Beckett’s obvious displeasure. He grunted. “It’s just a little grocery shopping.”

  Next to her, Derek chuckled under his breath. Without turning around, Beckett reached his hand over the seat and flipped Derek the finger.

  Emilie didn’t know what to make of the exchange, but figured it must be okay, given Derek’s amusement.

  “You love me, B,” Derek said.

  “No, I don’t,” Beckett said, totally deadpan.

  Emilie couldn’t help smiling at that one, especially since what Beckett had said about Derek earlier in the day totally belied his gruff words now. Seeing Derek interact with his friends had done nothing to help the confusion Emilie felt where he was concerned. By turns, Derek had been kind, funny, humble, considerate, and protective. And that wasn’t even taking into consideration the bravery he’d shown in coming to rescue her this morning. Her gaze fell to the bandages on his arm. He’d sacrificed himself. To save her.

  But he’d also used her and lied to her. Which was more important, more informative? Which was the one her heart should listen to most?

  Damnit. If her history with Jack wasn’t what it was, maybe she wouldn’t feel so conflicted now. But she did. And she wasn’t sure how to tip the scales one way or the other.

  Within fifteen minutes, Emilie had guided them to an upscale store known for its fresh meats and produce. She felt a little ridiculous as she walked into the store, a team of muscled badasses following her. She grabbed a cart for herself and pulled out another, which she gently rolled toward Beckett.

  His gaze narrowed and he released a long-suffering breath. “This place makes me feel like I’m underdressed.” Emilie’s gaze quickly scanned down over his jeans and black T-shirt, the sleeves straining around his biceps. She couldn’t imagine a single woman in this store complaining about what this man was wearing.

  “Excuse me,” a woman called from behind them. As the shopper removed a cart from the long row of them, she eyeballed the guys warily, and then she rolled over the hardwood floors into the huge, lush produce section.

  “See?” Beckett said, arching an eyebrow.

  “You’re fine,” Emilie said, smiling. She thumbed through her phone until she found the shopping list she’d compiled yesterday over lunch. God, that seemed like a million years ago.

  “Here,” Derek said, looking over her shoulder. “I can forward that to everyone’s cell phones and you can tell us what parts to get.”

  “Okay,” Emilie said, handing over her phone. A moment later, the guys all pulled out their phones to receive the text. “So, I’ll get the produce and dry goods. And, um, Shane, could you get the bread and desserts?” He nodded. “Let’s see . . . Easy, could you get the paper products and drinks?” Another nod. “Beckett, could you get the salads? That’ll be over at the prepared food counter.” He sighed and nodded. Emilie looked at Derek. “And maybe you could get the meat?”

  “He gets the meat,” Shane said, elbowing Beckett. “I get desserts and you get salads. She clearly likes him better.”

  Heat crawled up Emilie’s cheeks and she looked down at her list again. “You all can switch. I don’t care.”

  “No way,” Derek said. “The meat is mine.”

  “Don’t take that out of context,” Easy said.

  “Oh, my God,” Emilie said, biting back a smile. How she could find humor in the midst of this day, she wasn’t sure. But she had to admit it provided a needed release. “Let’s go. I thought you all were in a hurry.”

  Emilie headed into the produce section, and Derek followed. She pointed toward the back wall. “The meat is all along the back,” she said.

  “We’ll get there,” he said. “But I’m staying with you.”

  She came to a stop next to the twelve varieties of lettuce. “So you’re my shadow now, huh?”

  He stepped closer, close enough that she no longer felt the chill of the refrigeration on her arms. His eyes were heated and intense. “You’re not safe right now. And I’m not taking any chances.”

  The words and the closeness and the intensity made Emilie catch her breath. “O-Okay,” she said, her gaze dropping to his lips. She shuddered and turned away.

  As she worked her way down her list, Derek remained a solid presence behind her, beside her, watching over her. It was weird and kinda nice at the same time. And then it was gone.

  Emilie turned, but Derek was nowhere to be found.

  “Psst.”

  She turned toward the sound.

  Derek slowly rose from behind the table of bananas, balancing a pineapple and bunch of bananas on his head. He wiggled his hips like he was dancing, and everything fell off. He caught the fruit in his arms before they hit the floor and gave her a sheepish smile.

  Emilie tried not to smile as she turned back to the case of berries.

  A few minutes passed. “Psst,” she heard again.

  A smile already tugging at her lips, she looked over her shoulder and found Derek holding two huge melons of some sort under his T-shirt.

  “Derek! Put those back,” she said, looking to see who had noticed him. His playfulness eased some of the tension from her shoulders. There was no denying or forgetting the horrible stuff that’d happened today. The circle of blood spreading on Jeffers’s shirt after she’d shot him would no doubt provide fodder for nightmares for a long time to come. But it was just as true that she’d survived a near miss this morning. She’d survived. And a part of her wanted to say screw you, bad stuff and grab life with both hands. A little laughter, a little j
oy, didn’t seem like too much to ask, did it?

  Her last stop in the produce section was at the asparagus, which she planned to marinate and grill. She felt eyes on her, and did a double take at Derek holding possibly the world’s largest zucchini in his hands with a totally amused grin on his face. He waggled his eyebrows.

  Emilie couldn’t help but give in to the urge to laugh. “Okay,” she said. “I’m all done here.”

  “Oh, good,” Derek said. “Let’s go see what fun we can have with the meat.”

  Fifteen minutes later, the five of them met at the front of the store, carts laden with everything from her list. “Awesome job,” she said.

  Beckett leaned on the handle to his cart and eyeballed her. “We’re prior Special Forces. The best of the best. A prissy supermarket is hardly going to throw us a curve.”

  All the men nodded.

  “Okay, well, next time you’re getting the part of the list with the feminine products on it,” she said, trying to keep her face straight. Would there be a next time? Not to make the guys grocery shop, but just to hang with them, to get to know them better?

  Beckett grimaced and wrinkled his nose like something smelled bad.

  Emilie burst out laughing—and she wasn’t the only one. “Never taunt a woman into figuring out how to torture you,” she said. She patted him on the shoulder to the general amusement of the other guys.

  Beside her, Derek laughed. “You’re batting oh-for-two with the ladies, my friend.” A lesser man might’ve withered under Beckett’s glare, but Derek just laughed again.

  Outside, the guys took care of loading the groceries into the back of Shane’s pickup. Emilie watched as four very attractive men stretched over the lowered tailgate to place the bags in the truck bed. A girl could get used to that, for sure.

  She sighed and tried to remember that these guys were with her because she was in danger. And they planned to defend her and her house. Not to mention capture Manny.