Edge of the Enforcer (10 page)

“Not a problem. Let’s get some ice on your face.” After sitting her down on her living room couch, he sauntered into the kitchen.

The minute he disappeared, the aftermath of the fight set in. First a tightness in her throat, a flutter in her stomach.
Hold together a little longer, and he’ll be gone.

Nothing could stop it.

Coldness swept through her body, and she shivered. Huddled in a corner of the couch, she wrapped her arms around her knees and shook as the sound of shouting crashed back over her, the fear, the feeling of fist meeting face. Her jaw ached from trying to keep her teeth from chattering.

Holding an ice pack, deVries appeared in front of her. “Ah hell.” After setting the pack on the end table, he scooped her up and took her place, settling her on his lap.

“Don’t.” She retreated into herself. No matter how nice he was now, he didn’t like her. She could do without his charity. “Just go. I don’t want you here.”

“Too bad for you that’s not going to happen.” His voice wasn’t mean, simply matter-of-fact. Almost affectionate. Tucking her head into the hollow of his shoulder, he rubbed her neck with his free hand.

He was so warm…and she didn’t want to be alone. Not now. She turned her face into him, inhaling the soap fragrance of his shirt, the underlying masculine scent. When she sighed, he hugged her closer. She’d never realized what a difference it made to feel safe.

“Did you know you have a mouse?” he asked. “I saw it run across the kitchen.”

“A mouse?” She blinked. As her muscles relaxed, tiredness swept through her. Her head felt too heavy for her neck. “You mean Francois?”

There was a pause, and he burst out laughing. Rough and dark and sexy. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard him really laugh before. Hadn’t thought he knew how.

She drank in the sound like parched soil in an autumn rain. “Hey, only the finest of apartment rentals provide a ready-made pet.”

He grinned at her.

She grinned back…until she remembered he didn’t like her. How he’d treated her like a whore.
“Debt paid.”
She stiffened.

“Lindsey.” He shifted her to a more upright position and looked straight at her. “I screwed up. I’m sorry.”

Whoa, little doggies.
“Huh?”

His dimple appeared, disappeared. “I thought you’d taken your ex for everything he owned to get your fancy condo. You looked guilty when I asked if you married for money. And you did say it was a bad breakup and he isn’t living in a ritzy place.”

Her mouth dropped open, and her irritation slid right down the banks into a river of rage. “I was condo-sitting for a friend of Xavier’s.”

WHEN THE LITTLE Texan’s face turned red, deVries knew he was in deep shit. Her hand slapped his chest to push him away.

He didn’t relax his grip. She was going to hear him out—before she kicked him out.

Assuming he could stand to leave her in this dump.

A shame it looked as if he needed to explain further—which was like gutting himself. He cupped her stubborn little chin, stroked his thumb over her lips. She shoved at his wrist without effect. He saw her consider biting him.

Damn, he liked her. “Tex.” He softened his voice. “I was married before. It ended badly.”

The pushing stopped as her gaze met his. “
You
were married?”

The incredulity was humorous. And insulting. She figured he was too much of a bastard to catch a woman? “When I was your age.” Stupid twenties.

“You’re divorced?” she asked carefully.

He had her attention. Good. Unable to resist, he ran his fingers through her wavy hair and discovered glints of a dark color under the mink-brown strands.
Purple?

She tried to jerk her head away.

“When I was overseas, she screwed around,” deVries said. “I got shot up and was stuck in rehab, so she emptied our bank account to have her breasts enlarged and lips puffed up. I came home to divorce papers.” The taste of bitterness was still foul. “A month later, she married a rich CEO.”

Lindsey’s frown softened into understanding. “I’m sorry.”

He’d been too fucked-up to fight her for his savings. Sure his severance pay had kept him fed, yet starting over had been…difficult. He shook his head. Dragged his thoughts back. “I jumped to conclusions about you. Simon said you’re not rich.”

The sympathy disappeared from her face. “You talked to Simon. About me.” Mouth tight, she pushed off his lap and stood. “You know, deVries, your problem isn’t you jumped but that you didn’t bother to talk with me at all. I was just an easy fuck.”

“Lindsey.” He rose. “I said I screwed up.”

She retreated. “Yeppers. You did. Thank you so, so much for the rescue. Now go home.”

Like hell. He curved his hand around her nape, pulled her closer. A brush over her lips, her resistance started to disappear. She had a great mouth. Soft and—

She shoved at him. “Go away.”

He needed to leave; she was right. She didn’t need more stress. Not now. He took a step toward the door.

A scratching sound stopped him.

The goddamned mouse. She lived in a complete dump. In a fucking bad area. Unease gripped the back of his neck coldly. The gang would return, bent on revenge. He took out his cell and hit Xavier’s speed-dial number.

“Make your calls some other time. deVries…”

He eyed Lindsey. She knew his first name now and kept using his surname. Was starting to piss him off. “Call me Zander unless we’re in the club. Use it there, and I’ll whip your ass.” And wouldn’t he enjoy doing that?

Despite her obvious ire, a flush of arousal crept up her face. She liked the thought of punishment. In fact, if she were his, she’d probably call him by his last name just to see what he’d do.

She’d find out.

He’d whip her ass. Before he fucked her. Jesus, he was getting hard thinking about it.

“Problem?” Xavier’s voice came over the phone.

Focus, Iceman.
“Yeah. Does Abby still need a renter for her place?”

“She does. An ad goes into the paper tomorrow.”

Lindsey’s brows drew together. “That’s not any of your busi—”

“Lindsey’s new apartment is in the slums, and her building should’ve been condemned last century. Now she’s pissed off a local gang.” DeVries felt a ripple of mirth when she lunged in an attempt to swipe the phone from his hand. Fisting her hair, he held her far enough away to avoid getting kicked while he continued his conversation. Feisty, wasn’t she?

“I can’t afford Abby’s place.” Lindsey jerked on his arm. “DeVries…I can’t—”

Xavier had obviously heard, since he said, “Abby would be delighted to have her there. Let’s try it like this—for the first month, Lindsey can pay utilities only. If she wants to stay after that, she and Abby can work out a rent to suit them both.”

“No. I won’t take advantage of friends,” she growled. “I don’t—”

“Sounds good.” DeVries smiled down at her flushed face, enjoying the hope lighting her face—as well as the dismay. Had more pride than a US Marine, didn’t she? “When can she move in?”

“Get her out of there. Give me her address, and I’ll send movers over tonight.”

“This your stuff, babe?” DeVries motioned to the stained couch and chair.

“DeVries, I can’t let Abby—”

“Not what I asked.” He waited, his gaze holding hers.

“Jeez.” Her clipped voice almost disguised her accent. “The place came furnished. My furniture is still in storage.”

“There’s a relief.” He spoke into the phone. “Hear that? No movers needed. We’ll pack what’s here and meet you at the duplex.”

“Good.” Xavier’s voice hardened. “Now that I know she can’t be trusted to look out for herself, I’ll keep a closer eye. As will Simon.”

You won’t be the only ones.

Chapter Seven

In the waning sunlight, Lindsey followed deVries’s SUV across San Francisco to Mill Valley. He hadn’t thought she should drive, but she’d won the argument. Like she wanted to be dependent on him for anything as basic as transportation?

Maybe he’d been right—she was still shaky. Hell would freeze over before she admitted it to him.

Nonetheless, she felt for him. He’d risked his life to serve his country and his wife—sheesh, someone ought to smack her into the next state. Lindsey knew how unbearable it was to be betrayed by a spouse.

Nonetheless, rescue or not, nice guy or not, he wasn’t a risk she could take. When it came to him, somehow she was just plain too vulnerable. She should never have taken him back to the condo, should have continued playing lightly at Dark Haven, should never have slept with him.

She was alone, and she needed to stay alone.

When deVries pulled over to the curb, Lindsey shook off the depressing thoughts and parked behind him.

She slid out of her car—carefully. Her right wrist and hip ached, and the left side of her face really hurt. And she had one mother of a headache. Anything on her body not screaming in pain was aching. She was a mess.

Taking a minute to be sure her face didn’t show her misery, she checked out the area. The Mill Valley neighborhood was an attractive, older residential street with two-story clapboard houses. The tiered yard held easy-care bushes, trees, and ground cover. It looked as if the house had been divided in half, each side having an upstairs and downstairs. Two front doors opened onto the small porch entrance.

She’d never visited Abby’s duplex before. By the time they’d become friends, Abby had already moved into Xavier’s home. And now Abby was stuck renting her duplex—to
me
. Guilt washed over her. Poor Abby hadn’t had a chance to refuse. Dammit, this wasn’t the way she treated friends. Precious friends.

“Let’s move, Tex.” DeVries opened the back of his SUV.

“Right.” Lindsey kicked a rock off the sidewalk, winced at the pull on her sore butt, and reached in to grab a box.

“Wrong one.” He tugged the heavy box from her, put it back in the vehicle, and handed her one so lightweight as to be pitiful. When she frowned at him, amusement lit his eyes again. Still, without saying anything else, he picked up her two suitcases.

As they reached the porch and saw the two doors, Lindsey hesitated.

From an upstairs window, Abby’s call came. “Door on the right. It’s open.”

The living room was empty of furniture. Delicate floral wallpaper covered the walls, a gilded mirror hung over the white brick fireplace. Abby had left behind a worn needlepoint carpet in the center of the hardwood floor. Pretty and feminine.

A wide arch divided the space between the living area and dining area. There, a dining room table and chairs remained, which Abby probably hadn’t needed in Xavier’s already furnished house.

“Lindsey!” Followed by Xavier, Abby trotted down the stairs, saying, “Now, my girl, you can explain exactly why you insisted you had a great place and you didn’t need—” She reached the bottom step and stared. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”

Xavier snagged his wife with a long arm. “Easy, fluff, she’s not at fighting weight.” With Abby pinned to his side, he put a finger under Lindsey’s chin to tilt her face up. His black gaze lingered on her cheek before he glanced at deVries and lifted his eyebrows.

“Happened when Tex had a face-off with a gang,” deVries stated.

“DeVries rescued me,” Lindsey said reluctantly. She certainly didn’t begrudge praising him. Harder to swallow was admitting to her friends that she’d been in trouble.

“How’d you anger a gang?” Xavier asked, his deep voice carrying the hint of a growl.

DeVries put an arm around her and drew her back. “They wanted to beat up a boy.” He held his free hand at his ribs to show Dakota’s height. “Lindsey and her pepper spray had them stymied for a few minutes. When I got there, they’d gotten brave enough to charge.”

Did he actually sound proud of her? She leaned on his warm, hard body for a second, until common sense returned.
You’re wanted for murder. Lovers are not in any plan in any foreseeable future.

She stepped out of his reach. Good thing he couldn’t get all bossy with Xavier watching.

On second thought, this was deVries. He might anyway.

“What the hell!” Dixon’s horrified shout came from the front entrance.

With a groan, she grabbed her forehead. Holy heck, her head was going to fall right off—and would probably bounce along the floor and trip someone.
Oops, sorry, did I just kick Lindsey’s head?
Considering the way her day had gone, she wouldn’t be surprised.

Dixon charged across the room. DeVries’s snarl made him skid to a halt.

“She’s bruised up, boy,” deVries snapped. “Keep it down and take it easy, clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” the young submissive whispered and held his arms out. “Linnie?”

She stepped into Dixon’s embrace. His gentle sympathy was a balm for frazzled nerves. “Pretty, pretty Linnie. It’s okay, girlfriend.”

God, she loved her friends. After a minute of sheer self-indulgence, she stepped back. “Thanks, Dixon. I needed that.”

“Anytime, sweet thing.” He smirked at Abby. “I told you she’d want to see me.”

Abby rolled her eyes at Lindsey. “We were coordinating schedules at Dark Haven when Xavier called. Dix wanted to be sure you were all right.”

Lindsey bit her lip. Xavier hadn’t even talked to Abby before offering the duplex. “I’m really sorry Xavier just kind of dumped me on you. But I’ll pay rent starting today and—”

“Oh hush. My liege has laid down a decree. Do you want to get me in trouble?”

“I—”

“Seriously, I agree with him. My liege won’t let me pay for anything these days, so I’m not hurting financially. Take the duplex for a month, and we’ll talk, okay?”

Charity. It rubbed on a person like a wool saddle blanket. And yet, she did need to get away from her other apartment. “Thank you.”

“Now, you’d better sit down before you fall down.” Abby tugged out a chair at the dining room table and motioned for her to sit. “We’ll play helpless females and let the guys unload the car.”

“Forget the female stuff. We’ll let the
Doms
unload.” Dixon sat as well, bouncing once in glee. “You two missed the fun last weekend. Like HurtMe pitching a hissy fit at johnboy. He thinks johnboy trespassed on his personal territory when he—”