A Perfect Storm(40)

"Hey, Spence."

He ignored her and landed yet another blow. Blood sprayed from Carl's nose. He hung boneless, unconscious, in Spencer's hold.

"Yoo-hoo, Spe-ence," she sang. "I don't mean to be a party pooper, but  we did hear sirens, right? You think we should get going before the cops  find us here?"

Fist suspended, he stopped hitting Carl, but his chest still heaved.  Rage had bunched his muscles through his biceps, shoulders and across  his back. He stood with his legs braced apart, his feet planted solidly.

Ah, he looked so sweet. All that rage on her behalf.

Arizona smiled at his back. "It's been a really great show. Seriously. I  mean, nothing I couldn't have handled myself, of course, but-"

He jerked around to glare at her.

His nostrils were flared, his eyes glittering, his jaw clenched tight as granite.

Okay, so maybe she shouldn't pull the tiger's tail just now.

Gently, she suggested, "Maybe you could take me home?"

On the other side of the wall, police barked orders. They heard the  thumping of running feet and the clash of a tackle. Outside, a window  broke, a car horn blared.

"Any second now, someone is going to come busting in on us. And then  we'll have to start explaining." Hoping to reach him, she added, "The  guys really hate having to give explanations."                       
       
           



       

More breaking glass. More horns. More shouts.

Never looking away from her, Spencer exhaled, opened his fingers, and Carl collapsed in a bloody heap.

"There you go!" Arizona praised him. "And look at that. You even managed  to drop him on his knife so we don't have to worry about anyone else  finding it before the cops do. Good job."

Oh-so-slowly, Spencer stepped away from the carnage once known as Carl.

"Come on." She said it the same way someone would call a pet. "Come on,  Spence. Let's go." Patting her thigh as she backed up to the door, she  beckoned him.

Brows pulling tighter, Spencer closed his eyes for a few deep breaths,  then opened them again. Through stiff lips, he ordered, "Wait." He moved  around her to the door, looked out, then said, "Start walking."

"Got it." Feeling lighthearted, a little drunk and sort of … euphoric, Arizona twirled around and marched ahead.

Part of her silly mood came from recognizing, and accepting, that  Spencer was the right guy for her. Not just as an ally. Not only for a  friend.

He impressed her. She respected him. And she admired everything about him-but especially his ability.

She wanted him in ways she'd thought long lost to her.

She wanted him as a man.

Tonight, if she played her cards right, she just might manage to get lucky.

* * *

WELL AWAY FROM THE BAR-a few feet in front of him-Spencer watched  Arizona skipping along in a drunken trot. He flexed his fists, expanding  and contracting his bruised knuckles. All the volatile emotion he'd  felt tonight still churned inside him. He wanted to tear apart everyone  involved … while Arizona smiled like a kid at a carnival.

Keeping her within reach, while not yet touching her, and constantly  scanning the area, he called Dare. The ringing stopped, but Dare said  nothing. "It's Spencer."

"Done playing around?"

"Carl's in a room off the alley to the right of the front door."

"You immobilized him, right?"

That was a nice way to put it, but Spencer said only, "Yes." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I went a little overboard on him."

"No doubt he had it coming."

Spencer saw no reason to explain that Carl had dared to pull a knife on Arizona, that he'd threatened her life.

Or that she'd been in the process of bartering sex to gain the upper hand.

"I should have killed him."

Dare said, "We need him alive to answer questions. Get her out of here. I won't be far behind you."

"Thanks." He ended the call.

As soon as they rounded the corner, Spencer caught up with Arizona, anxious to ensure her safety. "Get in the truck."

She nodded but said, "That was so fucking awesome, Spencer. A night I'll never forget. I'm almost giddy, you know?"

He couldn't look at her. "In the truck, Arizona."

"I'm going, I'm going." She laughed as she turned to walk backward,  watching him. "Smell the rain?" She flung her arms out wide and inhaled  deeply. "Seems appropriate that it'd storm again, doesn't it?"

A storm for Arizona Storm? When she tripped, he caught her arm to keep her from falling.

She snugged herself up to him. "You impressed me, Spence, and that's not easy to do."

He sighed. God, what would he do with her?

Probably not what he wanted.

Unless …  He eyed her, saw the daze in her eyes and knew she was too drunk. No, definitely not what he wanted.

"Stop looking so morose, you grumpy Gus." She nudged him. "Everything is fine!"

"Yeah, just dandy." She might've been raped, then murdered in a back  room off an alley. But she discounted that peril completely. "Pay  attention to your feet before you fall."

"Nag, nag." When they reached the truck, she launched into chatter  again. "It was so cool how you came out of nowhere like a big avenging  angel. A dark angel. And bam." She threw a shadow punch. "You took it  out of old Carl. One blow, and that sucker was done for."

Spencer held her door open, saying nothing. Still smiling, she slid into her seat.

"You did that in the bar, too. I should call you One-Shot Spence, or  something catchy like that. Maybe when I'm more sober, I can come up  with a good name for you."

Again checking the area, Spencer closed her door, then went around the  truck and got behind the wheel. He immediately locked the doors and  started the truck.

Oblivious to his mood, Arizona said, "I broke Carl's fingers. Did you see that?"

"No." All he'd seen was Carl dragging her away …  His heart ached, just  remembering. He never wanted to see anything like that again.                       
       
           



       

"Must've been after he got me into the alley." Arizona made a twisting  motion in the air. "Felt damn good, getting him like that. You know he  had broken poor Quin's finger, right? I wanted to pay him back in kind.  But you know, I wasn't even thinking about that when it happened. He  tried to choke me-the dick-and I went on auto-drive." She gave him a fat  smile. "See, training pays off. Told you everything would be fine."

Adrenaline still pumped through Spencer's veins, making everything she  said feel like nails on a chalkboard. "Put on your seat belt."

After a long look, she huffed at him. "You are being such a pill." She latched the belt.

A pill? He wanted to raze that goddamned bar and half the men in it, yet  he held on to his temper-just barely. Spencer put the truck in gear  and, deciding he needed to get moving before he blew, pulled out to the  road.

"Wish I could have stomped on old Terry a little more, too. Cowboy." She snorted in utter disdain. "What an ass."

Grinding his teeth, Spencer tuned her out and concentrated on his  driving. They got a few blocks more before she started in again.

"He thought he'd break me in. That's what he said. His exact words. Can  you believe that? I'd break him." She laughed. "Just like I broke Carl's  fingers." She reached over and patted Spencer's thigh. "And just like  you broke the rest of him."

At her touch, his whole body tensed more.

The pat turned into a tentative stroke, moved to his inner thigh, and  Arizona gave a bold and curious squeeze. While playing with him, she  said, "I hope when we go back, I get a shot at Terry-"

Primed to the breaking point, Spencer snapped, "Enough!" He knew he  wouldn't make it until they reached his home, so he jerked the truck off  to the side of a busy street. He put it in Park with jarring impact.

Clenching the steering wheel, he struggled, striving for a calm that remained well out of reach.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN


ARIZONA TIPPED HER HEAD to study him. "Damn, Spence, what's the matter? You get a bee in your boxers?"

He ignored her question. Something felt wrong-something beyond Arizona's  cavalier disposition and inebriated boasting. He searched the streets,  watching for a tail, but saw nothing.

When his cell phone rang, he grabbed it up, expecting the worst. "Yeah?"

"You're clear," Dare said. "A cop started to follow you, but I took care of it."

He looked around and still saw no one-not even Dare. "Just like that?"

"Yes."

Itching for violence, needing release, he breathed hard.

"You okay?" Dare asked.

"Yeah." He ran a hand over his face. More curious than alarmed, he said, "About that cop … "