Force of Attraction (28 page)

“Did he follow up with your ideas?”

“He did better. Opened a soup kitchen near a shelter last year where all the meals are free, one per day. He asks for donations from the restaurant's patrons to keep it going.”

“Your family sounds like self-starters.”

“We had to be.” Shajuanna paused as if deciding how much of herself she wanted to share. “Mom died when we were little and Dad worked two jobs to keep us in school. I was lucky enough to get an academic scholarship to college. I like nice things.” She spread her arm to include her room. “But I earn them. So does Eye-C.”

When Eye-C finished his set to lots of appreciative applause, Shajuanna nudged Cole. “You got a minute?”

Shajuanna led her away from the party into a media room and closed the doors. “Have a seat.”

Cole sat on the edge of a plush leather media chair and put Hugo in the down position. Shajuanna had been eyeing her speculatively while Eye-C performed but now Cole was getting a distinctly uncomfortable feeling there was more to this one-to-one than girl talk.

Shajuanna sat next to her, dark eyes shining. “How long have you and Sam been together?”

“A couple of months.”

“You know him before that?”

Get Noel's story straight, Cole reminded herself. “No. We met at my cousin's wedding in Baltimore back in the spring. Why?”

“I can read people. I know, you probably don't believe in that kind of thing. But for me, people have auras.”

Feeling uneasy, Cole nodded. “That must be fun.”

“Not really. Auras can tell you more than you want to know. Ever since I was a little girl I've never known if or how much to tell people. Most of the time, I keep it to myself.” She paused to gaze steadily at Cole. “You've got this really intense thing going on with Sam. And you're really jacked up about it. It's all through your aura. So I thought you should know.”

“Know what?”

“Sam's not who he seems. His aura tells me Boyfriend's a cop.”

Cole couldn't quite master her surprise, so she went with it. “Wow. I don't know what to say.”

“It's no secret Collier was recently released from prison so he's still paranoid as hell about every new person he meets. I'm not paranoid. But I'm definitely catching a vibe about your Sam.”

Cole tried to look casual as she reached for her soda. “He told me he manages a motorcycle shop in New Jersey.”

“You seen it?”

Cole shook her head. Stick to the truth as much as possible. “He was in the military before that. He doesn't talk about it.”

“That could be why he's got that watchful-eye thing going on. He's hard in a way that says street experience, deep and long.”

She pulled a card out of her pocket and handed it to Cole. “You need to do a background check on your man.” She tapped the card. “Kelli will get all deep in anybody's shit. Maybe he's PoPo. Maybe something else. Shajuanna's never wrong about a man who's packing.”

Cole let her surprise show again. “You know Sam carries a gun?”

“You see me hug him when he came in? I do that to all the new men crossing my threshold. Yardmen and plumbers think I'm fresh. What I am is thorough. Every ass I pat is about the patdown. I guard my home. You hear me?”

Cole was a little surprised. “Don't you trust your security?”

“Security gets lazy. That's why I'm always changing it up for them. They work for me but they don't know when or how long, or even which days I'm doing what. If I'm constantly changing it up, they have to stay on their toes. And they can't tell anyone ahead of time when or where I'll be. I know I sound hard but I have to be, for the sake of my girls.”

“Why? Has someone tried to abduct them?”

“Tried and succeeded, once. Collier's been married before. Crazy woman. So crazy Eye-C got custody of Leila. Five years ago, I left Leila with an au pair to take Miya in for a well-baby check. Ex-wife snatched Leila in the park, thinking she could up her alimony with extortion. Got her skinny butt put in jail, instead. Thank you, Jesus.” Shajuanna raised a hand palm flat to the sky. “Everybody wants a piece of our world.”

“I see.” Cole did some quick calculation about her options. “If you don't want me and Sam around—”

“I didn't say that. I like you. Sam makes you happy.” She smiled and patted Cole's cheek. “As long as you're happy, I'm happy. Trust, but verify, Noel. Anything changes, it all changes.”

“Thanks for the heads-up.”

Shajuanna stood up. “I need a drink. You like blood orange margaritas?”

“I'm game to find out.”

As she followed her hostess back into the party, Cole felt as if the world had shifted under her feet.

Scott had been identified but it didn't seem like a major problem. Had she been believed? Or was Shajuanna suspicious? Either way, that couldn't be good. She needed to reach Scott before he turned up here again.

She reached for her phone but decided against sending him a message. It might be the wrong time. She'd just have to make certain she caught him at the door.

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The sign over the door read
B'MORE BILLIARDS
&
ARCADE. ADULTS ONLY
.

This was the address Dave had texted him without any assurance that X would be here.

When Scott called Dave for more intel, Dave said X's parole officer had voluntarily called him with the address. “He said X had been in touch to ask him to meet him there tonight. Something about a birthday celebration but he said he doesn't party with his parolees.”

Scott grunted. “Birthday? I thought X crawled out of the gutter fully formed.”

“That's all I got.”

Cole might have done him a favor by not telling him about her attack immediately after the fact, Scott thought grimly. Twice X's attacks had gone unanswered. Perhaps he was getting cocky, or careless. Both attitudes would work in Scott's favor.

Still not satisfied about what he'd be walking into, Scott called one of the task force guys who lived in Baltimore to ask about the place.

“It's a recreational bar. Caters to youngish commuters who like to think they're still the shit, and college students with IDs that say they're twenty-one. Then you got your hard-core video gamers and assorted sports fans. The drinks are cheap and the food's a step up from movie-theater popcorn fare. Got enough of an edge that it sometimes lures the fringe element looking for a weekend experience.”

When he pulled into the parking lot, Scott noticed the patrol car parked at a discreet distance. Message: As long as everyone played nice, the doors would remain open.

At least it wouldn't take long for law enforcement to respond if things went sideways.

Even so, he walked Izzy around the lot. He counted several motorcycles. Two sported Pagan insignia. Izzy didn't sign on anything except a couple of joint roaches on the pavement. Satisfied that he had been as thorough as he could without backup, he tucked Izzy back into his truck and headed for the door.

Scott paused just inside the huge open space, cop senses on full alert as his eyes adjusted to the gloom.

The atmosphere was downscale Vegas. Despite air-conditioning, the sultry heat of the August night penetrated as far as the entrance. The place smelled faintly of beer and bodies. Strategic lighting that pierced the darkness was all aimed downward, offering the illusion of intimacy for the hundred-plus customers playing pool, paddle boards, darts, shuffleboard, or arcade games.

The bar area itself was dark—dark walls, black tables and chairs. On the far wall above the bar a bank of big-screen plasma TVs offered a variety of sports broadcasts. Here and there signs spelled out popular beer brands in electric neon lettering.

Closer in, a stage whose spotlighting barely penetrated beyond its immediate arc was occupied by a local band running through a cover of “Home” by Phillip Phillips.

To one side a line had formed under a sign that read
KARAOKE COMPETITION
for patrons to sign up for when the band took a break.

Scott took it all in quickly. It was a good place for a confrontation. Plenty of witnesses. Yet the half walls that separated the different gaming areas gave a sense of privacy that would make it easier to deliver the warning he'd come to give—if X was here.

A watchful suspicion tightened in his gut as he moved forward. Something else stirred as well, tied to that darker side of him. The lust for life on the edge. The rush of knowing that you were the biggest, baddest SOB screaming down the road. He would never be quite free of it.

Scott swallowed, as if the old life had a flavor he could taste.

But the image didn't hold. The reality was that he was a cop, first and last. The sheepdog guarding the flock from the real wolves. He had come here to corner a vicious wolf who called himself X.

It turned out not to be a problem to locate him. Three Pagans and their girlfriends lounged in and around the seating along the far back corner where two pool tables formed a ninety-degree angle. They were watching two men play pool. One of those men was X.

The smile that stretched Scott's features would have sent a civilian ducking for cover. The thrill of the chase lit his eyes. It was on.

He came up behind X and grabbed the back of his pool cue just as he was about to sink the final shot and jerked it out of his hands. X's body motion carried him forward in an action that nearly had him sprawled on the table before he caught himself.

“Fucking shit!” He spun around, one hand going to his waist where Scott knew he kept his Ka-Bar in a hidden sheath.

Scott brought the pool cue up in a defensive position.

“Hello, birthday boy. I hear you've been looking for me.”

The biker's lean leathery face looked ghoulish in the stark overhead lighting. There were so many seams and ridges that shaving must be a bitch. His gaze narrowed down to slits. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I'm the guy you'd been throwing spitballs at from the back of class. If you wanted me to ask you out all you had to do was say so.”

A smile jittered at the corners of X's mouth. “I don't know what the hell you're talking about. Fuck off. I don't know you.” He turned his back and reached for another pool cue.

As he did so, Scott stepped up and sank the shot X had been about to make. Scott grinned at X's astonished expression as X looked around. “Can't say I didn't give you a present. Now I'm going to give you a little advice. Stay outta my shit.”

Snickering from his friends arrayed in the booth jerked X's head around. “Shut the fuck up.”

X turned slowly back to Scott, fingers of his right hand running lightly up and down his new cue. “Like I said, who the fuck are you?”

Scott met the man's glare. X was a little or maybe a lot drunk, or high, or both. “You wanted to dance. Here I am. Two years ago you would have stepped up like a man. You should have stayed like that. Wrecking houses is junior high crap.”

All the crags in X's face shifted under the seismic pressure of his temper. “Fuck that. Fuck you.”

“Take him, X. Don't let no asshole talk to you like that.”

“Yeah, X. Let's dance.” Scott made a move with his cue as if he was going to stick X in the ribs.

X's eyes flew wide. “Motherfucker!”

His tone had the heads of nearby customers swiveling his way.

Scott's voice never rose but the edge to it sharpened. “You might want to watch your language. Contrary to the sign over the door I'm sure there are minors present.” Scott took the cue and laid it gently on the table. “You should get a hobby. Yard work, maybe.”

X's face cratered into a smile. “I prefer knife work. It's so much more personal, don't you think?

Scott held that empty-eyed gaze for a beat. And though it was like looking into his own grave, he did not even blink. “Let's do this. Outside. Now.”

“I ain't stupid. There's a cop outside.”

“So that's a no?”

The air vibrated with tension, drawing the eyes of the curious but also backing up those nearest them. The tables on either side of them had been vacated. Scott knew the exact moment a bouncer headed their way. X's gaze shot past his shoulder and then his stance relaxed a fraction as he mumbled something more obscene than usual.

“We got a problem here?”

Scott glanced toward the tall man with sloped shoulders but forearms like hams. “I just came to extend my felicitations to the birthday boy.” He saw X's squint deepen at the use of the word “boy.” “I'm all done.” He handed his cue to the bouncer.

X took a step toward him. Scott would swear he could heard X's teeth grinding. “I will break you.”

“You had your chance. Don't waste my time.”

“How's your daddy? Hear he's all laid up. Your mama's gonna be looking for company.”

Scott smiled. Checkmate. X had just admitted that he knew about his parents, and made a new threat. But he wanted X for more than that. He wanted to take him in carrying the kind of weight that would put him behind bars for a long time.

Scott didn't turn his back as he moved out of range. In fact, he made it to the front door with the bouncer following without losing his line of sight to X.

He had pushed as hard and fast as was possible, considering their surroundings. He might have just increased the bounty on his head. But he was also pretty sure the next move X made would be aimed at him, and not those he cared about.

Scott was back in the truck with the doors locked before he took a deep breath. He really didn't want to get dead. In fact, he wanted to live so much the ebb of adrenaline was making it hard to put his key in the ignition.

But those were the parameters of the job, protect and serve. Forget that. He'd do just about anything for those he loved. Even if he couldn't be sure she loved him back.