Leather, Lace and Rock-n-Roll (24 page)

“Are you finished?” He folded his arms across
his corded chest muscles.

“Sorry.” She bit her lip and attempted to
quell her giggles. “You look adorable but why on Earth are you
dressed like that?”

“They wouldn’t let me back in my street
clothes.”

“I see. And what are you doing here
anyway?”

“I told Rachel I’d be back.”

“Already? Geez, you obviously don’t
understand the meaning of spa, do you?”

“Come on.” He grasped her arm. “Where’s
Rachel?”

“Now hold on there, Repo Man,” she hissed,
jerking free of his hold, “I’m not repossessed collateral here.
She’s getting a massage and I’m not finished exfoliating.”

She flung herself back onto the lounge and
reclined with her feet crossed.

“Why didn’t you just call anyway?”

“You’re not answering your phone.”

“Of course not,” she scoffed, “it's spa day.
But you could’ve called the front desk.”

“You should always keep your phone close, for
safety.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and
prepared for another argument. A brief moment of silence passed,
each attempting to stare the other down, before she spoke. “Not on
spa day.”

“Fine,” he answered abruptly, “I’ll wait
outside for one hour.”

She studied her freshly manicured nails. “I
might not be done in an hour.”

He grinned, stepped forward and tipped her
chin. “One hour, Sassafrass.”

Cameron watched behind hooded eyes and waited
for Max to amble out of sight before she left her cocoon.
Big
bully.
She wiggled the robe from her shoulders, pulled her
blouse over her head, and shook her curls back into place. She was
supposed to be relaxed, calm, in touch with her inner beauty. She
snorted.
Sure
. The mad bull barging into her china shop
changed all that. Now she was tense and her aura was all wrong. She
sighed.
Oh well.
She’d just have to schedule another spa day
this week. Darn the bad luck.

She flung her purse over her shoulder and
smashed her sunglasses on her face as she stalked down the hall to
find Rachel already waiting in the lounge.

“Did you see him?”

Rachel grinned. “Yeah, I saw him when I came
out of the locker room. Cute, huh?”

“Yeah, cute,” Cameron mumbled.

Cameron’s high heels clicked loudly as they
kissed the scalding pavement, counting the steps to her car.

“Marching double time, aren’t you?”

She swung her head to see Max propped against
her car. An exasperated sigh left her freshly-glossed lips. “Good
grief, Goliath. I don’t need an escort.”

He grinned. “I need a ride.”

“Where’s the Suburban?”

“Shadow and Hawke took it back to the hotel.”
He snatched her keys from her grasp, and unlocked the door. “Get
in.”

Cameron stood dumbfounded as he pushed her
into the driver’s seat and walked around to the passenger side
where Rachel waited. For a split second, she considered leaving the
other door locked, but he’d probably crawl on the roof or
something.

“Unlock the door,” he ordered, his voice full
of cool authority.

“Fine.” She pressed the button on her
remote.

Max waved Rachel into the tiny backseat then
he entered the car legs first and folded his large frame into the
small, cramped interior with his knees nearly touching his
chin.

“This is such a girly car,” he mumbled as his
biceps bumped the side window.

“Duh,” Cameron threw at him impatiently,
“below your right hand is the seat control.” She turned to Rachel.
“Sorry, he won’t fit back there unless we hogtie him and I don’t
think that’s possible.”

Rachel grinned. “It’s not far.”

Cameron watched Max ease back the seat and
heard him release a heavy breath when his groin wasn’t quite so
squeezed.

“Put the key in the ignition.”

She smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes.
“Buckle up, Safety Man.”

Max stretched the seatbelt across his body
and snapped it together. She started the car, lowered the top, and
giggled as the rays of sunshine bounced off her diamond-studded
sunglasses.

“This won’t mess up your hair, will it?”

“Just drive,” Max grumbled.

Cameron swung her sports car down the
expressway and finally into Rachel’s drive.

“Straight inside,” Max ordered.

Cameron frowned. “I need to run home for a
minute.”

“No.”

“Yes,” she insisted. “If you intend to hold
me hostage, I need to get something.”

“What?”

“Something.”

“What do you possibly need that you would
risk being killed by a terrorist?”

“My cat.”

“Your cat?”

“Yes. I won’t stay here without him.”

“Hawke has people. He can arrange for your
cat to be cared for.”

“No. He doesn’t like strangers.”

“Oh for the love of – I’ll get the cat.”

“I don’t think so. He definitely won’t come
to you.”

“Your choice, Princess. Either I get him or
he stays home alone.”

“Fine. Need to borrow my car?”

Steele ambled outside.

“No,” Max told her, “I’ll take Steele’s
truck.”

“Good thing.” She whacked his biceps with her
bag as she pulled it from behind the seat. “You couldn’t handle
this much power.”

Max exited the car, helped Rachel out, then
he and Steele met at the truck. He watched the ten-gallon drum of
gunpowder bounce to the front door then disappear inside the house.
He blew out a rough breath. Wouldn’t take much to light that
fuse.

Steele cleared his throat. “The perimeter’s
clear, Captain.”

Max nodded. “Shouldn’t be long before we can
wrap this up. I need your keys.”

“You have new Intel?”

“No. She won’t stay without her cat.”

Steele grinned and handed him the keys. “And
you volunteered.”

“Don’t start.” Max climbed in the truck and
started the engine. “Besides, she’s all yours until I get
back.”

Steele’s eyebrows climbed his forehead. “What
am I supposed to do with her?”

“If I were you, I’d steer clear. Just secure
the house and fade into the background. Any engagement you choose
with the enemy is at your own risk.”

Rachel wiped a hand across her forehead and
closed the door. “Want some ice cream?”

“You go girl!” Cameron squealed. “What
flavor?”

Rachel grinned. “Whatever you want. I stocked
up for a few days.”

Rachel led the way into the kitchen. She
pulled out several gallons of ice cream from the freezer, set them
on the table and pulled off the lids.

Cameron grabbed two spoons and handed one to
Rachel. “You are prepared!”

“There’s nothing better than ice cream right
out of the carton.” Rachel filled her spoon with a full, rounded
scoop of the dessert. “Do you know it takes an average of fifty
licks to polish off a single scoop of ice cream?”

Cameron attempted to wipe the strawberry ice
cream off her white tank top and giggled. “Guess I’ve never
counted.” She scrubbed harder on the stain. “How are you doing with
the Build a Block party?”

“I’ve got a few people lined up, but several
of our usual volunteers are having trouble committing.”

“Just like men.” Cameron switched tubs and
waved her spoon wildly, sending a river of chocolate ice cream
spiraling down her arm.

Rachel giggled and tossed her a towel.
“You’re going to be sticky by the time you’re through.”

“No doubt.” Cameron dabbed the chocolate
mess. “I’ve got a few more calls to make. Surely there’s someone I
can intimidate. Do we need more donations?”

“Always.” Rachel replaced the lids on the ice
cream cartons. “We really need more muscle. Maybe you can get Max
to help.”

Cameron froze with her spoon in her mouth.
“Now, why would I want to do that? Godzilla and I get along much
better away from each other.”

Rachel bit her bottom lip and gave Cameron a
desperate look. “It’s for a good cause,” she continued, knowing
Cameron’s big heart would get the best of her.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Cameron tossed
her spoon in the sink. “You know I can’t say no to you when you
look like that.”

“I know,” she said smugly. “That’s why I’m
doing it. Is it working?”

“Okay,” Cameron huffed, “I’ll see what I can
do. But only for you, Rachel. Only for you.”

“Thanks, Cameron.” Rachel gave her a quick
squeeze. “You’re the best friend a girl could ever have.”

Cameron giggled as they left the kitchen and
returned to the living room. “Enough with the syrupy stuff.”

“It shouldn’t take long then." Rachel paused
at the thud near the front of the house. She looked at Cameron and
frowned. “Did you hear that?”

“Yeah.”

Cameron walked to the front door and eased it
open just a crack.

“Open it further. I can’t see.” Rachel
attempted to widen her view, but Cameron held tight.

“Um, Rachel, I think we have a problem.”

“What kind of problem?”

Cameron opened the door and Rachel gasped.
Parked in front of the door instead of in the garage, her Mercedes
sported five huge scratches down the passenger side, from the front
bumper to the rear. Something was written in red lipstick across
the front windshield.

“What does it say?” she asked, trying to get
around Cameron.

“I can’t tell from here.” Cameron blocked her
path. “What are you doing? Whoever did that could still be out
there!”

Rachel closed her eyes and felt the hair
stand on the back of her neck. “Cameron, Max closed the gate when
we came in.”

Cameron bit her bottom lip. “Where’s the
blonde Adonis?”

Rachel stuck her head out the door.
“Brett?”

When he didn’t answer, Rachel stepped onto
the porch to look around the area.

“Oh God, Cameron.”

Brett’s limp body lay in a heap near the side
of the house, a baseball bat next to him.

Cameron grabbed her cell phone and started
frantically pushing buttons. “I’m calling Hawke.”

“Hawke?! No! Call the police!”

Cameron held up her other hand to silence
Rachel’s hysteria. “He’ll bring King Kong. We’ll get better results
if we call him.” She tapped her toe in impatience, ready to scream
when Hawke finally answered. “Hawke! Where are you?”

“On my way back to Rachel’s. What’s
wrong?”

“Max just dropped us off. Brett’s passed out
on the lawn and somebody vandalized Rachel’s car. There’s a message
on her window written in red lipstick.”

“What does the message say?”

“We didn’t get close enough to read it.”

“Are you still inside?”

“Yes.”

“Shut the door and arm the house.” Hawke
released a loud breath. “Shit, Max is on my other line. Do not hang
up, Cameron.”

“Bossy.” Cameron huffed and headed back out
the door.

“What are you doing?” Rachel pulled on
Cameron’s arm. “You can’t go out there.”

Cameron grabbed Rachel’s hand. “We’ll just
take a peek and see what the message says, then run back
inside.”

“Did Hawke send us out here?” Rachel asked as
they inched closer to the car.

“Um, not exactly,” Cameron hedged. “Sometimes
it’s necessary to take things into your own hands.”

Rachel took a step further down the driveway
toward the area where Brett lay. “Get back over here,” Cameron
hissed at her.

“We can’t leave him out here. Help me drag
him inside.”

Cameron lifted the cell phone back to her
ear. “Hold on a sec, Hawke.”

A colorful string of curse words flew from
the handset as Cameron slid her phone inside her bra. She followed
Rachel past the car and onto the front lawn where Brett lay face
down.

Rachel bent beside him and placed two fingers
to Brett’s neck. “Oh thank Heaven. He’s still breathing.”

Cameron sucked in a quick breath. “That’s an
ugly lump on the back of his head.”

“How should we do this?”

Cameron twisted her lips. “Maybe we shouldn’t
move him. What if he’s hurt somewhere else?”

Rachel frowned. “You’re right. I hadn’t
thought about that.” She tucked a wayward piece of hair behind her
ear then reached to push Brett’s hair back from his face. “I’m
ninety-nine percent sure he’s just knocked out.”

Cameron threw her hands into the air. “Let’s
just do it.”

Rachel nodded. “I’ll roll him over, then I’ll
take his hands and you take his feet.”

As soon as Brett lay on his back, Rachel and
Cameron lifted him.

“Good grief,” Cameron grunted, “he’s solid,
that’s for sure.”

Within the next few minutes, Brett rested on
one side in the living room behind the sofa.

Cameron plucked her phone from her bra, still
sucking air from carrying Brett. “Hawke?”

“I’m still here.”

“The message says: He’s mine. You’re
dead.”

The line went silent for a split second and
panic began to creep up her spine. “Hawke?”

“I’m here. You went outside?”

“Duh.” Cameron rolled her eyes. “We carried
Brett inside with us.”

“Is his earpiece still in his ear?”

Cameron bent and pushed Brett’s hair back
from the side of his face. “Yes, wires and all.”

“Okay good. What flavor was the
lipstick?”

Cameron frowned. “What?”

“The lipstick on the window, Cameron. What
flavor was it?”

“How should I know?” Cameron turned to Rachel
and widened her eyes. “You won’t believe this. He wants me to taste
the lipstick.”

“He’s got an unusual talent,” Rachel
mumbled.

Cameron stuck one hand on her hip. “I’m
drawing the line, Hawke. You can do it yourself.”

Hawke lowered his voice. “Max is on the
way.”

“Oh great!” Cameron gave a weak laugh as her
tightly strung nerves began to unwind. “I can’t wait until he gets
here.”

“Who?” Rachel pushed her hair back from her
forehead.