“I’ll bring Boomer up to you after I take him out.”
I nodded my thanks and peeled my eyes off him when he lingered a bit too long in the doorway, as if walking away from me was a physical weight he didn’t want to move.
“Good night, sweetheart,” he finally said, and stepped back, pulling the door closed.
I barely had enough energy to strip off my clothes and change into my pajamas before I collapsed on top of the bed. I fell asleep before I could rethink the most beautiful kiss I’d ever received.
When I woke up, Boomer was sleeping at the foot of my bed, and I was no longer on top of the covers, the way I was when I fell asleep, but tucked firmly under them, making it clear that even while I was sleeping, Declan wanted to take care of me.
Chapter 11
Declan
“This better be good,” I grumbled into my cellphone. I’d just been woken up by my obnoxious ringtone, and my voice was scratchy and dry.
Tyson’s chuckle vibrating in my ear made me perk my ass right up.
“What is it?”
“You are in deep shit,” he said, the laughter evaporating with a breath.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I swung my legs over the side of the bed and jumped to my feet.
Not even forty-eight hours ago, Tyson left my house after promising he’d do what he could to look into Kevin Morgenson III. Damn, what kind of narcissistic prick actually had numbers after his name?
Arrogant name aside, I hadn’t been expecting Tyson to call me about him this early on Mondayjust hours after I’d finally fallen asleep.
And I was more than pissed that he’d just interrupted the dream I was having of Trina. Her thighs straddling mine, her head thrown back in pleasure as I sank into her from beneath her. Her nails digging into my chest. Her hips rocking against mine. The curve of her back when I took her from behind. The brief kiss we shared last night had unleashed deeply buried desires I’d been harboring, but hadn’t let myself admit.
When I finally fell asleep, they rushed through me with hurricane-force winds.
Hell, I even had to take a cold shower before finally climbing into my bed. My dick had hardened at the sight of her sprawled on her stomach on her bed. The soft little noises she made when she was totally passed out made it impossible not to think of sex and fucking. Touching her to move her under the sheets almost snapped my self-control.
“I called in some favors first thing yesterday, and my contacts have filled me in on a wealth of information about your precious Trina’s husband.”
I sneered at the word.
He was no husband.
I rubbed my hand over my head, feeling the prickle of hair that needed to be shaved, and clasped the back of my neck. “And?”
“And the guy’s a fucking piece of work is what. But all the bullshit he’s pulled and then gotten hidden by state police over the years isn’t why I’m calling.”
I pressed my tongue against my teeth to keep from snapping at my friend. Patience was never my strong suit.
“Listen,” he said, quieting his voice. “I gotta ask before I tell you this. You sure this is the woman you want to throw down for?”
“What the fuck do you mean by that, Blackwell?” I growled. Hell. I didn’t know if it pissed me off that he had the guts to ask me that, or if I was pissed that I’d thought the same exact damn question after hearing about her husband.
Trina didn’t come with baggage.
She came with a convoy of troubles, and probably issues I hadn’t yet discovered.
Unwrapping her, getting her to a good placea safe and emotionally healthy placecould take a long time.
But that fucking kiss.
That kiss last night itself was enough to make me know what I wanted.
“Morgenson’s in the wind.”
All my breath whooshed out of my chest in one large exhale. “What the fuck?”
“Yep. Asshole’s gone. No one has seen or heard from him in a week.”
Fuck.
“Which means he’s looking,” I said, knowing that’s where Tyson’s train of thought was headed.
“We’ll find him.” Confidence rang rich in his voice. It did little to quell the rage that was beginning to build in me. Fear. Not for me, but for Trina and what would happen if she ran into the asshole again. “But it’s going to take some time. You got somewhere you can take off to for a while? Maybe Arizona to see your parents?”
Beautiful idea. Not gonna happen, but I still grinned when I thought of my mom meeting Trina. She was the kind of woman my mom could relate to.
“I can’t get someone to cover the restaurant that long,” I admitted, my reluctance clear. “But I can get her away for a couple days.”
“Not sure that’s gonna help, but I’ll pressure the guys here to start searching. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”
Pressure in my chest. Uncertainty a stampede in my gut. I felt sick.
“Yeah.” I sighed and rubbed the back of my neck again before dropping my hand. It curled into a fist as if danger was knocking on my door. “Thanks, man. I owe you.”
“I’m putting myself at risk of deep shit for this, Dec. I gotta ask again. She worth it?”
I wanted to throw in his face that he got involved with Blue when she was his damn undercover target. Was she worth it? Not that I said shit then. I saw the man before he introduced her to me. Just the way he said her name was proof enough.
The certainty in Trina’s eyes last night when she stepped toward me and said she wanted what I did popped into my mind.
There was no other answer to give except, “Yeah, asshole. I’m sure.”
“That’s all I need. Let me know where you’re going and when you’ll be back once you get a plan together. Based on how long Morgenson’s been gone, I wouldn’t wait.”
Fucking hell.
Before I could reply, he ended the call and silence echoed in my ear.
I hit the End button and tossed the phone onto my bed before heading to the shower and getting ready for the day.
I’d give my assistant manager, Mac, a little bit of time to wake up before I gave him a call to let him know I’d be out of town. I hoped that by then I’d know where we were going.
And that Trina had agreed to come with me.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Trina asked, her knee bouncing in the passenger seat.
My hand curled around the steering wheel of her old convertible as we drove west on I-94, headed directly for Chicago. I shrugged, twisting my hands around the wheel again. Fuck it. I needed to touch her. Soothe her.
Comfort her.
The more I was around her the more it felt like this was what I was meant to doprotect this woman.
“Mac can handle Fireside Grill,” I said, reaching over and taking her hand. I tried not to cringe about that phone call I had to make this morning. My assistant manager essentially gave me the same shit Tyson had, with only one-tenth of the information, but it’s not as if people hadn’t figured out I had a soft spot for Trina, with her working in my office and serving tables without actually being hired.
I figured being the boss gave me the right to break a few rules here and there.
“I meant taking off like this.”
“Chicago’s a bigger city,” I explained, although we’d been over this. My plan was a quick, two-day, three-state trip.
Sell her car in Chicago. Take the train to Milwaukee. Ferry back to Michigan and drive home. With the cash from selling her car at whatever shady car lot we could find, she was going to buy a new car in Milwaukee. At the very least, selling the car in Chicago would send Morgenson hours out of his way if he’d had any idea she was in Detroit.
“I can’t believe you’re doing all this for me.”
Her surprise made me cringe. This wasn’t a big deal. Any decent man would do something like this, even if he wasn’t thinking about getting into a woman’s pants.
Or under her skirt, since Trina came out of her room today dressed in some flowing, floor-scraping, skirt-dress type of thing.
I had no idea what it was called, but it kept her almost fully covered.
I despised it.
I wanted to rip it off her.
Her disbelief at a man’s kindness was just one more reminder, a red flag, that Trina hadn’t had a decent man in her life to show her the way, though.
It was that thought that made me grit my teeth together, and I glared through the windshield.
“And Boomer will be okay?” she asked, turning to face me. Fear and exhaustion lined her eyes, and it wasn’t from lack of sleep.
This woman was tired. Tired of her life, tired of running.
I didn’t blame her.
“I swear to you, sweetheart, Blue is always at Tyson’s house and will treat the large oaf like he’s her child. She doesn’t have an unkind bone in her body.”
“You’re right.” She sucked in a breath and squeezed my hand, entwining our fingers together. “I’m just worried.”
“I know, but Boomer isn’t something to be worried about. He’s in good hands and he’ll be safe. Just like Tyson and I will ensure you will be, too.”
She rolled her lips as if wanting to say something, then changed her mind. With her free hand, she leaned forward and began flicking through the radio stations.
I let her have the distraction.
“What are you doing?” I asked when she settled on a station that sounded like squawking. Horrific, tinny, squawking. Squawking like a flock of birds dying a slow and painful death.