Giving It Up (26 page)

The worst part, I feared, was that I could not walk away. Not that I even could leave Colin now, but it was more than that. It wasn’t just a question of whether I’d tell the cop to go take a hike. Philip had sought me out for something, and it was clear that the animosity he felt toward me ran deep. All of a sudden the information I’d stolen seemed a lot more valuable.

It was leverage, just like the photos the cops had of me. Except this was leverage against a guy who wanted me hurt.

I wouldn’t do anything as obvious as blackmail with my leverage, though. For one thing I didn’t think it would work. There’d be nothing stopping him from telling Colin what I was doing, and that I’d snooped to get information. Even if Colin were surprised to find out about Tony Yates, I doubted he would trust me much after that.

No, I had to bring the cops down on Philip. I told myself it was about distracting him, about destroying the business that held Colin captive, but it felt more like payback for what Philip had done with Tony Yates.

The cops and Philip—the proverbial rock and hard place. What I needed was for them to go at each other. I wasn’t sure which side would crack first, maybe they both would, but I needed them to hammer each other, not me. I just had to make sure to step out of the way; otherwise, I’d get smashed right in the middle.

Colin slammed the bathroom door shut, and I winced. He was still mad about last night. Maybe because I’d accused him of paying someone to rape me.

Okay, probably that.

And maybe he was also pissed because I’d obviously spoken with Rick, since I knew about the debt and the closing of the bakery. Well, I hadn’t broken the agreement not to communicate with him, Rick had. I’d never even made such an agreement. Besides, Colin was the one who’d fucked up, manipulating Rick and me. Shouldn’t he forfeit his right to be pissed off?

Rick carried some fault as well, risking the bakery by racking up all those debts. Still, it wouldn’t do to forgive Colin so easily. He’d taken away my choice. My
consent
, really. With a baby and no job, I could hardly have refused his offer to move in. I would have consented anyway—I
did
actually, not yet knowing the truth—but that wasn’t the point. Driving me to desperation was just as bad as holding my wrists above my head. Almost.

Colin stomped out of the bathroom. The man could really throw a tantrum—quietly, though, like he did everything else. I got up to brush my teeth and get ready.

Once downstairs, Bailey fussed for breakfast. I gave her sliced bananas while I made pancakes. She was still making up for last night’s diet and didn’t mind letting me know it.

According to the calendar the next drop wasn’t until tomorrow. I had no doubt that I’d see the cop again before then, probably today. I didn’t want Bailey to be here for that.

Colin joined Bailey at the table and plowed through his pancakes in brittle silence.

I finally cracked. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

He didn’t look up. “No plans.”

So he wasn’t going to the drop. Good. I’d pay special attention tomorrow to make sure he stayed home, even if I had to deep throat him for hours.

“Let’s have movie night,” I offered.

He shrugged his shoulders just a smidge as he took a bite. Stubborn man.

The difference between his amiable silences and his angry one was like the difference between a chilly day and a hailstorm. I didn’t enjoy the animosity between us, but I wasn’t ready to call a truce. The only thing I’d done wrong, the snooping, he didn’t even know about. Okay, so that wasn’t the best defense, but I still felt indignant.

For the first time in weeks he went out right after breakfast.

I called Shelly.

“Hey, girl,” she said.

“Can you take Bailey out today?” I needed to make a stand, for all of us, but I could hardly do it while Bailey was here.

“You aren’t going to do anything stupid, are you?” she asked.

“Of course,” I said lightly. “You know me.”

She sighed. “I haven’t seen her in a while anyway.”

“I’ll owe you forever.”

“You already do.” She hung up.

After Shelly picked Bailey up, I settled in to wait. I had kept the card that first cop had given me, tucked between my clothes and next to the money from Jacob. My little stash of secrets. I could call the number, but on the small chance they had forgotten about me, I had no desire to remind them.

From beneath the coffee table I took out the yards of upholstery fabric and basic sewing kit I’d purchased earlier. The place was in desperate need of curtains, but one glance at the prices in the local home decor store had me bolting for the door. It cost more than Bailey’s car seat to cover half of a bay window. He had told me to spend anything, buy anything, but years of thriftiness didn’t just dissolve because my boyfriend was a successful small business owner and the brother of a wealthy crime lord.

At first I was nervous, constantly glancing out the window and having to redo my measurements. Maybe I was a little afraid that I’d be caught unaware again, even though I’d checked the locks three times.

Two hours later I had a matching pair of lined, navy curtains. These would go in the bedroom. For someone who’d repeatedly had sex in alleys and cars, I felt remarkably skittish about the yawning bay window there. Anonymous sex was one thing—it practically counted as public already with just the stranger I was fucking. Sex with Colin was the very opposite of anonymous. The opposite of a hookup—a mating. Love and sex, together. I was so fucked.

I heard a rap on the back door. I peeked around the window. The cop was here.

I grabbed my props: a paring knife slipped into my back pocket, an old broken cell phone that still did voice recordings, and an index card. Through the window in the door, he waved a manila folder at me. The pictures. He was probably worried I wouldn’t let him in. Little did he know I expected him.

I opened the door.

He leaned casually against the doorjamb. “Hey, honey.”

So tempting to slam the door in his face, smashing it. Maybe later.

“Philip Murphy’s shipping routes, and
you
agree not to arrest me on false charges.” I held up the index card, and a twisted smile spread across his face. It occurred to me that this guy might actually be considered handsome. His features were fine, and his eyes that rare green. Never to me, though. There was something in his eyes that I knew enough to fear. The kid who pulled bugs apart just to watch them writhe.

“Good girl,” he said, reaching for the card.

I held it away. “I have a few more conditions.”

He laughed. “And I give a shit, why?”

“Because I’m the one with the information you need, for one. I’m also the girl
you
molested while my daughter slept upstairs. I doubt your boss would be thrilled to hear about that, especially on prime-time news.”

He licked his lips, taken aback; then he regrouped. “I could take that from you—easy.” His gaze raked my body, a sneer on his face. “And you liked what I did to you.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, but I let my eyes blink wide. A fake, seductive innocence.

He grinned. “Girls like you play hard to get.”

“Maybe,” I said with exaggerated thoughtfulness. “Why don’t you come here and find out?”

I lay back against the wall, feigning submission. My acting skills left something to be desired, but he went for the bait. They always did.

As he leaned toward me, I smoothed my hand down over his bulge and cupped his balls. And wrenched them, hard. In a second I had our positions reversed—him slumped against the wall, me holding him by the balls.

I put the knife to his throat. “Touch me again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

He swallowed hard, and his Adam’s apple bobbed against the point of the blade. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he ground out through barely parted lips. “You’ll have to let me up sometime.”

“Hurt me, and I’ll go to the news. Your boss. I’ve got a recording of this conversation, where you just admitted to blackmail, among other things.”

He curled his lip. “And you’d let Colin find out about your little boyfriend?”

I shrugged as if unconcerned. “Go ahead and show him. If he gets mad, that’s my problem. He’ll still protect his own. All I’d have to do was point you out, and your partner would be picking your broken bones up off the street.”

His eyes glittered emerald. “You stupid bitch. I could kill you right now.”

I jammed the knife into his skin, and a small prick of blood trailed down his neck. “I’ve left a message for Colin with your name. Anything happens to me, and you’re dead.”

That wasn’t quite true, but I had given Shelly enough of a clue that she’d probably figure it out. I could see this man thinking it over, realizing I had him.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” I mocked.

He gritted his teeth and emitted a low growl. I liked him better this way, panting, feral. It was more honest. “What are the conditions?”

“You never come back here again, understand? No matter what happens. If I see you around here, I’ll speed-dial Colin, and Philip’s weight comes down on you. Anything happens to me, same thing. Either way you’d be fucked. You go away and never come back. Deal?”

A pause, with only his harsh breaths and the sound of my blood pumping to fill the silence.

“Deal,” he ground out.

I pushed away from him but kept the knife pointing at his jugular. I had him, but animals behaved stupidly sometimes, especially in captivity.

He didn’t attack, though, but held out his hand for the card.

I gave it to him, the index card with the address of my old apartment scribbled on it. A useless piece of paper, a misdirection. “Tomorrow night at ten.”

He turned and slipped through the open back door. I locked the door and, just as when he’d left last time, slid down the wall, but this was nothing like last time. He hadn’t touched me—or just barely—and I’d turned the tables on him. And I wasn’t going to let him push me around. If he tried to fuck things up with Colin, I’d deal with it.

A new Allie had emerged, neither slutty nor cowardly. A kick-ass Allie. Or a squeeze-balls Allie, at least. I hadn’t been afraid. All right, I’d been fucking terrified, but I was also angry and powerful and
giddy
. If only I could start breathing again, I wouldn’t pass out.

I’d figured out over the past couple of sleepless nights that I couldn’t betray Philip. I had no love for the man, none at all, but he was Colin’s brother. If the law came after Philip, they’d come after Colin too. There was no way I could protect Colin against that. Besides, I couldn’t ignore that Philip had helped me with Jacob. Sure, Colin had made him do it, but he’d still helped me. I wouldn’t bite the hand that fed me. These were street rules. Revenge was fair play, but going to the cops was always bad form. Whatever had happened with Tony Yates, I wasn’t going to let it go. I’d find out more and then decide what to do, but it wouldn’t endanger Colin.

Footsteps sounded outside, and I tensed. Shit, I was still on the floor, my teeth rattling like the crappy dryer in the Laundromat.

“Hello?” Linda’s cheery voice preceded the rattling of the locked door.

I let her in, still breathing hard, and the next thing I knew, I was slumped in strong arms and a plush chest.

“Oh dear,” she was saying. “It must be the heat, tiring you out.”

It was a breezy eighty degrees out, I wanted to say, but it didn’t matter. Besides, I rather liked this embrace. So different, so much softer than Colin’s, but just as warm.

She half carried me to the couch. I blinked at the ceiling until it stopped spinning.

I sat up. “I’m sorry.”

She patted my knee. I jumped, unused to touch that wasn’t sexual or violent. I wanted to pull away even as I wanted more. How very perverse of me.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“Young lady, don’t you apologize to me. I’ll have none of that. Now, you need a drink of water. You sit right there, just sit.”

Sitting sounded great to me.

She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a mug. I took a sip and spewed cold coffee across the coffee table. The grossest water ever.

“Oh!” she said. “Sorry, dear. I probably should have mentioned I found the coffee in the pot.”

“No,” I told her with a smack of my lips to hide my revulsion. “It was good. I needed a wake-up call.”

She beamed. “That’s what I thought. Where is the little darling?”

“She’s with her aunt.” I took another sip of the coffee and shuddered.

“Good, then.” She settled across from me. “Let me tell you a story.”

Yes, story time. I leaned back and closed my eyes, ready to hear about litter box antics or about an anniversary cruise to Alaska. Anything to distract me.

“When I was a young girl—oh, about ten or so—there was this boy that I liked very much. William was fourteen but small for his age, very quiet. He followed his two older brothers around wherever they went. It was a quiet town, it was, just west of the Adirondacks, and they were the troublemakers.”

This was even better. An honest-to-God, how-they-met story, complete with a happy ending. And a shy, little pseudo bad boy too. My whole body sighed into the cushions.

“The boys were fixing their usual, you know, tormenting this old mountain dog. They’d shove him in an old barrel and roll him down the hill, they did, and it showed. Messed him up in the head. He couldn’t even walk a straight line, and he’d pee himself. It wasn’t right, but who could stop them?”

Jesus Christ. My eyes had popped open over the course of this recitation. No, I hadn’t quite been expecting it. I wanted initials carved into an old oak tree that they later got married under, not psychopathic animal abuse.

“One day I get all riled up,” she continued, “saying how they can’t mess with the dog no more, no sir. Of course, they just pushed me around a bit and got right back to it, but then William let loose the dog and said that no, he wouldn’t let them hurt that dog no more and they couldn’t touch me neither.”

Oh. I sighed again. How romantic. Well, it was sad about the dog, but what a moment.