“We’d seen cars in the driveway. Someone was there recently, except the inside of the house looks like no one has lived there in months,” Smith said.
“That’s because no one has been there in months,” Jack said from the corner. “Only mice laid out to toy with the cat. If Derk had been doing his job, he would have known that.”
His head fell back as he let out a frustrated groan and ran a hand down his face.
“When the hell was the last time you showered?” Murphy demanded.
He shrugged. When was the last time he’d cleaned up?
“Get the hell out of my office and fix this mess. If you don’t have my money and that man in front of me within a week, you’ll take his place,” Murphy said coolly.
Which meant, Derk and Smith would be seated in some sort of steel chair, screaming for them to stop whatever they were doing to torture their bodies.
“Smith, go toss him into the shower.” Jack chuckled.
His partner didn’t say a word as they left the office, or when they rode in the car back to his place, or when he stepped into the house with him. It was when Smith turned to leave, he silently clocked Derk across the jaw. Derk flew back to the floor and remained there for an unknown period of time after Smith stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.
***
The next day, deciding to forget about his troubles with Murphy, Derk knocked on Mackenzie’s apartment door. He was sick of the way her absence fucked with his head. Sick of the way he’d screwed up his work because of his obsession with her. Sick of this high school bullshit that they both needed to stop.
Kayla, her roommate, swung the door open, hands on hips. “She’s not available…for you.”
Derk brushed past her and straight back to Mackenzie’s bedroom, despite blondie’s protests. Without knocking, he burst through her door. He went to flick on the lights but stopped. It was noon, a bright, warm day outside, yet her bedroom looked like she was hunkered down for the winter.
“Mac,” he barked.
She jumped. “Derk?”
“What the hell are you doing? Are you sleeping? You don’t stay in bed past ten.”
“You need to leave.”
“Fuck that.” He flipped on the light, stormed over to the bed, and tossed his body onto the mattress.
“Derk, you need to leave.” Mackenzie jumped out of bed and pulled on a pair of lounge pants, much to his displeasure. “I won’t have anything to do with you any longer.”
He titled his head. “You don’t really get a say in that, Mac.”
All because he refused to answer her inquiries. She needed to learn to get past that.
She picked up her phone. “Please don’t make me call the police.”
What the hell? She was serious?
“What’s going on, Mac?” He sat up and crossed his hands behind his head as he watched her closely. Those blue eyes were red-rimmed like she’d been crying or was exhausted. Her hands started to tremble as she held her phone. His gaze bounced from her hands, to her eyes, and back.
“I just need you to leave and never come back, Derk,” she said meekly.
“You gonna tell me why?”
She shook her head and bit her bottom lip. “I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”
A sudden, sharp pain developed in his chest. Again. That was the second time since Mackenzie came into his life he developed that awful sensation. “Explain yourself, Mac. If you can give me a good enough reason, I’ll walk out that door, and you’ll never hear from me again.”
He watched the subtle fall in her features. He didn’t understand what the hell was going on, except that something was up.
Inch by inch, Mackenzie made her way to the door.
“Mac,” he warned.
“You work for the mob.”
Oh. So that’s what she knew. “And?”
Her mouth popped open. “You’ve been arrested for possible murder.”
He held up a finger and shook his head. “I’ve been brought in for questioning regarding a couple murders.”
“Do you murder people?”
“Do you really want to ask that question?” he challenged. Not that he’d ever answer her.
Those beautiful blues went wide. “That’s a yes.”
“That’s a, ‘I’m not entertaining that dumbass question.’”
“You need to leave, Derk. I can’t be with someone who’s in the mob. Who kills people, sells drugs, or whatever other illegal activities you’re into.” She opened up the bedroom door and pointed to the exit.
Wow, the moxie it took for her to show him the door wasn’t lost on him. Mackenzie wasn’t a confrontational woman. She was a peacemaker. Someone who wanted everything nice and tidy in her world. She needed it. She was a woman who had nothing while growing up and relished what little she managed to obtain, whether material objects or a sense of peace. It was obvious in every tiny action she made. Every word spoken. She was phenomenal.