The Trouble with Temptation (17 page)

She laughed to herself. He thought it was a friendship, although after that kiss she’d given him, maybe he’d realize it was something more. He was so adorably oblivious. What they had was smoking hot tension. She just had to make him see that.

Soon, she told herself. Very soon. If she wasn’t so on edge about the senator and everything that had happened, she would have said yes to the pizza and probably pushed for a lot more, too.

But she was a mess, she was stressed, and she needed to decompress …
alone
.

Pulling back, she turned back to her car. As she slid inside, she shot him a wide grin. “Ask me again next week. You’ll probably get a much different answer, Marc.”

*   *   *

A fast drive down a dark country road could do wonders for the brain. Alison had always loved taking a drive when she was moody and tonight was no different. Her mind had settled more and she realized that while today
had
sucked, it could have gone much worse.

The bottom line—Senator Henry Roberts was nothing more than a well-dressed thug and he’d finally been exposed. He came off as the typical, well-to-do businessman. He pressed the flesh well and made white-bread types feel real secure when he told him he was pushing for
them
when he was in office.
Fighting for your way of life
—that was his motto.

Sneering at the idea of it, Alison parked her car. Out of habit, she looked around. Everything looked as it should. The porch light was on and she didn’t see anything out of place.

“Fighting for your way of life—as in anything that didn’t disrupt you. Never mind all the others out there who suffer, never mind all the others out there who don’t have the
rights
you have.” Her despondency had given way to anger and she was just fine with that. She functioned better when she was angry.

House key already in hand, she climbed out of the car and started for the front door. She skimmed the area as she walked. She’d been jumped once in college. She wasn’t going to be a victim again.

Once she was inside, she locked up and took a minute to rearm her alarm system.

Then, she headed into the bathroom.

First things first.

After a shitty day, the one thing guaranteed to make all things better was a nice, hot bath.

*   *   *

The typical security system would deter the typical thief.

Joseph Smith wasn’t a typical thief.

He wasn’t a thief at all—and his name wasn’t Joseph Smith, either.

He was what some people called a troubleshooter. Others were more upfront about it. They called him what he was. A hitman.

He was quick, he was clean, and he didn’t play with his targets. Such actions had been the downfall of many people in his line of work.

He hadn’t been surprised when he’d received the call earlier.

He did have to say he was disappointed.

The senator really should have waited, but Henry Roberts was a rash and foolish man. The video that had now been viewed upwards of a million times was evidence of that. Most people in the country—and plenty of people
outside
of it—knew of the McKay family. Anybody with half a lick of sense would have known they weren’t the sort you could push around, threaten, or bribe.

But the senator was used to throwing his weight around. Too many people had given way to him. He was good at finding out secrets and wielding them as a club. He wouldn’t have found much on the McKays. Joseph Smith knew this, because out of curiosity, he’d looked. He was, after all, the curious type. The biggest secrets the McKays had were that the youngest had dated a crackhead in her college days and had then gone on to get involved with a man who’d beaten her.

She was a stupid sort of girl—or she had been.

He doubted any of them would cower and hide over those pitiful bits of information.

Roberts should have just let whatever the imagined slight was go.

He hadn’t. Now he could just sit back and watch as the dregs of his career passed him merrily by.

It made no difference to Joseph.

The man had asked—no—
demanded
this one final job. He’d ignored Joseph’s subtle suggestions that he give it some time. That was fine, just fine. Joseph would do as he was told. But the job would come at a cost.

Joseph would have to disappear after this.

It would get hot fast.

Too many eyes would look to the senator, and he had no doubt the senator had been gathering up information on him. Joseph would do the same in his shoes. Actually, Joseph
had
done the same and he’d wager he’d done a better job of it.

He’d put the finishing touches on that tonight and then he’d fade away into obscurity.

He enjoyed his job, but he enjoyed his freedom more.

He might resurface under a new name sometime down the road. But then again, he might not.

From under the bed, he listened to the sound of running water.

He’d had most of the evening to plan. Getting inside hadn’t taken much effort. He’d simply walked around the perimeter of the house and found a bedroom window. Of course, the signs of the security company were prominent, but while he’d anticipated she’d have a motion sensor, those were typically placed in a public area—one with high traffic.

He’d come in through the bedroom and he’d stayed there. He’d been prepared for her to walk through the house. Many women were becoming more safety conscious, and wise of them, too. But while she’d done a quick walk through, she hadn’t checked every room. If she had, she might have noticed the curtains rippling in the breeze caused by the hole he’d created when he cut through the glass.

Now he just waited.

The sound of water running made him smile.

She’d take a bath.

That would have her nice and relaxed. Off-guard, too. Once she was in the tub, he’d make his move.

He decided he’d even be quick about it.

He rather admired what she’d done.

The senator was an idiot and he’d been brought low by a smart woman with a smartphone.

Sadly, though, Joseph Smith was a businessman and he always saw his jobs through.

But he didn’t think he’d take the senator up on the bonus.

Roberts had offered an extra ten grand if Joseph made the Maxwell woman suffer for the humiliation she’d caused him today.

Personally, Joseph thought she deserved a gold star.

After a few more moments, the water stopped running. Then he heard sloshing and a long, heavy sigh.

Slowly, he slid out from under the bed and hovered there on his hands and knees, waiting.

When all he heard was more sloshing coming from the tub, he rose and stood.

His feet were soundless as he moved out of the spare bedroom and down the hall. He hadn’t had a chance to learn the layout of the house, but he’d spent too much of his life doing this and he’d discovered that most houses were cut from one of a few basic designs. He was already oriented to where the front and back doors were from his outdoor perimeter check, as well as windows for potential quick exits.

The light slanting through the narrow crack in the door was one of the interior rooms that had no window, but it was the bathroom.

The splashing sounds of water grew louder as he drew closer.

Pressing his back to the wall, he edged up to the slit of an entrance and peered inside.

He couldn’t see much thanks to the angle so he shifted to the other side of the door and tried again.

Perfect.

The mirror was positioned so he could see in without obstruction and he studied Alison Maxwell’s profile. While he’d watched the video that had been uploaded, he had gone out of his way to avoid learning anything personal about her. He knew the things he needed to know—where she lived, if she lived alone, if there was a hulking brute of a dog he’d have to deal with. He refused to kill animals.

But he hadn’t known anything about
her
.

And this was his first time seeing her.

She lifted a glass of wine to her lips and sipped.

As she lowered the glass back down to the rim of the tub, he eased the door open, slipping a hand into his pocket.

Poor girl.

She’d done the world a service really.

*   *   *

“It was the senator’s men.”

Gideon grimaced. Shooting Brannon a look, he said, “I’ll be sure to talk to him, but you know it’s going to be hard to prove anything.”

“I don’t care what you prove. I don’t even care if you talk to him.” Brannon stood out in the hall of the emergency room. One of the doctors from Hannah’s OB office had come in—she was in there with the ER doctor now. They’d already done an ultrasound and Hannah seemed to be handling this better than Brannon was.

Brannon wanted to put his fist through something—preferably the senator’s head.

“So … you don’t want me to investigate?” Gideon said slowly.

Brannon angled a look toward his friend. “Oh, no. Please investigate.”

Recognizing the tone in Brannon’s voice, Gideon put his notepad down and then turned away, pacing for a few seconds before he came back to stand in front of the other man. “Brannon, you need to stay away from the senator. He’s put himself in a hole and he’ll have to dig himself out. He might try to cause you all some trouble, but he can only do so much. Let me handle this.”

“He tried to run us
over
,” Brannon said. He jabbed his finger toward the room where Hannah was waiting. “She’s pregnant. God knows what that could have done. And you want me to let you
handle
this?”

“I’m saying I don’t want you to lose that temper of yours,” Gideon said. His eyes narrowed slightly. “I know what happens when you do and you look like you’re close to the boiling point.”

Brannon wisely said nothing.

Taking a step closer, Gideon gestured toward the closed door. “She’s got enough going on. She may never get that week of her life back. She’s pregnant. And even though she doesn’t let on, things aren’t as easy for her. She needs you and it seems like for the first time in your life, you’re ready to actually commit to something—to
somebody
. Don’t let that pompous prick pull you away from what’s important, Brannon.”

The door opened and Hannah appeared. She looked pale and wan.

Brannon wanted to cuddle her close and destroy anything that threatened her.

“Hannah.” Gideon nodded at her.

She gave him a tired smile.

“You need to talk to me again?” she asked.

“No.” Gideon nodded at her. “You get some rest and if I need anything, I’ll be in touch.”

He gave Brannon a telling look and then left.

*   *   *

“Rest.”

Brannon stared at the images on the screen while the OB on call continued to tell Hannah what he wanted from her.

The odd, smooshed-up little thing was his baby.

According to the doctor taking calls for that weekend, the baby was fine. Dr. LaRoche wanted Hannah to follow up with her regular OB/GYN on Monday, but she wasn’t anticipating problems.

Wasn’t anticipating problems …
just the words pissed Brannon off and he still felt like he was going to puke.

It hadn’t hit him until the doctor had done the ultrasound but he’d kept it together.

Now he had these images and he was a sweaty, shaking mess.

“You’re sure everything is fine?” he demanded, interrupting the doctor in the middle of his explanation of when he wanted to Hannah to call. “Maybe we should have her go into Baton Rouge for more tests. A specialist … something.”

The doctor paused and then turned, looking over at Brannon.

“Mr. McKay,” she said, giving him a polite smile. “Absolutely, we
could
do that. But I am a specialist. The equipment here is top-notch. The baby’s heartbeat is steady and I see nothing that should concern either of you.”

Dr. LaRoche was newer to the practice and lived in the next county over. It had taken her twenty minutes to get there and as far as Brannon was concerned, that was eighteen minutes too long.

“But…”

“Brannon.” Hannah touched his arm. “I’m fine. The baby is fine.”

She gave the doctor a smile and said, “New dads. They get like this, right?”

Dr. LaRoche chuckled as she moved the wand around on her belly. “New dads, second-time dads, third-time dads … even doctor dads.” She gave Brannon an understanding smile. “Trust me, I understand.”

Brannon forced himself to smile back. The woman seemed competent and Hannah was comfortable with her. Brannon tried to make himself accept that and he nodded, looked down at the images he held in his sweaty, shaking hands.

“Okay, Ms. Parker, if you—”

“Bleeding,” Brannon said, cutting in a second time. “You said there could be bleeding.”

His head started to swim at the thought of it.

“What if she starts bleeding and nobody is there?”

The doctor looked over at Hannah.

Hannah looked almost amused.

She cleared her throat. “Doctor, can you give me and Brannon a moment, please?”

He smiled and nodded.

A moment later, Brannon was alone with Hannah and he stood up, carefully putting the images inside the front pocket of his shirt. “Hannah, I think I should hire a nurse to come stay with you. I can—”

“Not necessary.” She gave him a calm smile. “After all, you’re spending the night … remember?”

“I…” He sucked in a breath and spun away. “Well, yeah. I can. Sure, but a nurse…”

“I don’t need a nurse, Brannon.”

He turned back, glaring at her while panic started to choke him. “He said you could start
bleeding
.”

“It’s just a
remote
possibility,” she said. “He wants me to be prepared and FYI, it’s a
slim
possibility, if that. I am
fine
, Brannon. You took the impact of the fall. You hit the ground and then you rolled on top of me. I wasn’t hurt.”

“You could have been!” he shouted.

And that was the problem.

Just
saying
it made him sick and he wanted to puke.

Spinning away from her, he braced his hands on the counter and closed his eyes. The room was twisting and turning around him like he’d just gotten off the craziest tilt-a-whirl. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”