Chasing Silver (5 page)

Her hard-heeled boots clicked against the concrete as she rounded the corner of the building. The darkness sucked away the red taillights of a vintage Mustang as it pulled from the lot, but other than that, the place was deserted except for another old-fashioned car. Her head swiveled toward the brightly lit store. Through the windows, she spotted an older woman behind the cash register and some customers milling around, but none of them looked like Remy Capra. That didn’t matter. Kirsten knew the coin wouldn’t have brought her here without a reason.

Inside the door, the blinding lights made her hesitate, her eyes adjusting to the difference in illumination. The mirror over the counter showed a tall, willowy woman, eyes a pale blue, skin like porcelain. Kirsten grimaced, self-consciously lifting a hand to smooth down her short blond hair. She looked like hell. That was something else to complain about once she got home again.

When Kirsten didn’t move from the entrance, the cashier offered a tight smile. “Can I help you with something?” she asked, her voice high and wavering with age.

“Actually, yeah.” Adopting her friendliest smile, Kirsten walked up to the counter and leaned against it, bringing her down to the shorter woman’s level. “I’m looking for a friend of mine. She said to meet her here, but…” She glanced back, making sure Remy wasn’t lurking in a corner she hadn’t seen from outside. “…I think I might have missed her.”

“What does she look like?”

“My age. Ish. Long dark hair, brown eyes. About five-five and a hun—” She stopped. Friends didn’t give weights out when looking for each other; that was a cop thing. “Curvy. But still in shape. She likes to wear clothes to show off her…assets.”

The cashier frowned. “Well, there was a girl like that in here a couple minutes ago. But I don’t think it’s your friend.”

Kirsten tried to hold back her excitement. Maybe she could end this once and for all right now. “Why not?”

“She was with some British guy. They took off in an old Mustang.” The cashier patted her hand, as if consoling her. “But, honey, if she’s your friend, get her into a program and away from that boyfriend of hers. I’d bet my youngest grandkid she’s strung out on something, and I’m pretty sure he’s beating her up, too. She had blood all over her clothes.”

Though she made noises of disappointment, inwardly, Kirsten rejoiced. It was Remy, no doubt about it. Just before the bitch had crashed out the gallery’s window, Kirsten had sliced her with her best blade. It had been the ultimate in satisfaction until Remy vanished right before her eyes.

Somehow, she’d found an ally already, though it was hardly surprising her new friend was male. Remy knew what her strengths were. She would exploit them to get what she wanted. Chumping a guy into helping was the sort of stunt she would pull.

Thanking the cashier, Kirsten left the store, then stood in the cool night air, debating what to do next. British guy in an old Mustang.

Even out of her element, she knew that one was easy.

Even better, it would lead her straight to Remy Capra.

As he woke up, Nathan became aware of two things.

One, the morning sun was much too bright and hot against his face. The shades had been drawn the night before, but now it felt like nothing protected his eyes from the summer light.

Two, he was being watched. The weight of her gaze crept along his skin, and the soft rhythm of her breath added a fresh pulse to his own. If he held very still, he could hear the whisper of his T-shirt against her legs.

“What do you want?” he asked, without opening his eyes.

“Well, I was looking for the bathroom.” Her voice was still rough from sleep, low and husky enough to evoke unbidden images of how untamed she must have looked waking up. “But damn if this view can’t make a girl forget her own name.”

Nathan groped for the towel he had discarded and pulled it over his hips. It had been too hot to consider sleeping with a blanket. He didn’t even remember falling asleep. His lust-fueled thoughts had seamlessly blended into dreams. Even this might not be real. He had two separate fantasies beginning this way with very different outcomes.

Covering his eyes with one arm, he pointed to the hall with the other. “Obviously, you made a wrong turn. It’s the door to the left.”

“Not so wrong.” A floorboard creaked. “But thanks.”

Nathan waited until the bathroom door clicked shut to open his eyes and sit up. He had been a little afraid to look at her; it was possible the sight of her would prompt him to throw her to the bed and turn all his fantasies and dreams into realities. He had never, in his life, devoted so much mental energy to a single girl.

Pulling on a pair of pants, he stumbled into the kitchen, his tongue dry and heavy, his stomach growling. After starting the coffee, he raided his cupboards until he found the almost expired box of Pop-Tarts tucked behind a very expired box of cereal in the pantry. Grinning, he tore the cellophane wrapper open with his teeth.

Soft footsteps padded into the room behind him. He barely had time to glance back before Remy stood at the counter, leaning over the coffee pot and inhaling deeply.

“God, nothing has ever smelled so good.” The forward bend of her body pulled her T-shirt up in the back, exposing the lower curve of her ass. “What’s a girl got to do to get some of this?”

“There are cups…” He paused. It was difficult to remember minor details when she stood so close. In that moment, he had no idea where the coffee cups were. He had to look away from her before the answer came. He grabbed two mismatched mugs from above the sink and handed one to her, along with one of the crumbling pastries. “Did you sleep well?”

The sight of her nimble fingers turning the Pop-Tart over in her hand more than once locked his gaze. She broke off a corner and put it in her mouth, but then it was a crumb lingering on her full lower lip that captivated him. The sudden desire to lean over and lick it off finally compelled Nathan into retreating a few steps. Distance was better.

“As well as can be expected, I guess,” Remy was saying. “Every time I rolled over, I’d wake up. You’ve got a broken spring that kept sticking in my back. Guess that’s why I’m up so early.” She shrugged as she busied herself with filling her cup. “Not that I’m not grateful. I am. I’m just pissed off I’m hurt in the first place.”

A slight pang of guilt stabbed through him. He should have offered his bed. “Yeah, sorry about that.” Pouring his coffee, he risked another glance. Shadows haunted her eyes, her skin drawn and pale in comparison. “How did you get hurt?”

Her amused smile deflected some of the pallor, though not all. “I thought we agreed somebody attacked me with a knife.”

“Yes, I’m quite certain someone tried. What I mean is, why would someone want to skewer you?”

“Because she’s a schiz who thinks she has the right to say who lives and who dies, and I had the sauce to tell her to fuck off. That’s why.”

Nathan dipped a piece of his Pop-Tart into his coffee. Had the sauce? Who talked like that? And he thought Californians mangled the English language. “I’ve met a few of those, and they don’t like it when you tell them to fuck off.”

Who did this girl get mixed up with? What sort of shit would he find himself neck-deep in if he let her stay around? And why couldn’t she keep that shirt pulled down?

“I imagine she’s also the sort to hold a grudge?”

Abandoning the food, Remy cupped her steaming coffee between her hands and headed back to the living room. Nathan trailed after, watching her settle in the far corner of the couch, her legs curling Indian-style in front of her. His mouth went dry as he forced himself to tear his gaze away from the black line of her briefs between her thighs.

“Not only does Kirsten hold a grudge…” Oh. She was talking again. “…she rocks it, feeds it, and tucks the thing into bed at night.” Her eyes seemed even larger as she looked up at him. “I think I’ve managed to shake her once and for all, but I shouldn’t stick around for too long. Better safe than sorry.”

Nathan couldn’t disagree with her. She shouldn’t stick around. She should go back to whatever passed for her life, and he’d go back to whatever passed for his, and he’d think of her some dark nights and chastise himself for being the biggest idiot on the planet. He meant to open his mouth to wish her well, but instead asked, “Where will you go?”

It took a second for her to shake her head. Her subsequent smile was meant to be cocky, but he saw straight through it.

“I’ll figure something out. I mean, do I look like the sort of girl who doesn’t know how to take care of herself?”

“I don’t know. Last night you looked like a girl who was scared, confused and bleeding all over herself. Honestly, you don’t look that much better this morning.” Nathan lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “I’m sure you can take care of yourself. Or you’ll die trying.”

“Way to stroke a girl’s ego, big guy.” But the front she’d been putting on crumbled right before his eyes, her smile fading. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even be sitting here right now. I don’t damsel, okay? I’ve spent too many years having to be the strong one, having to take care of everybody around me. But…” She looked down at her coffee cup, turning it in her hands. “…these aren’t normal circumstances. And what you did for me last night…well, I know you didn’t have to. I’m just…not used to anybody giving a damn.”

Nathan wasn’t accustomed to giving a damn. That particular urge had been beaten out of him over time. And now he was feeling sorry again, though not for her. Just sorry life had to be the way it was. Sorry, and a little baffled.

He sat on the opposite edge of the couch, resting his cup on the arm and looking at the floor instead of her. “I don’t know why, but I don’t want to see this Kirsten person, whoever she is, finish what she started. I think you should talk to a friend of mine. He might be able to help.”

Before he finished, she was shaking her head. “No. Nobody else. I’m sick of people getting killed because they were in Kirsten’s way.” Setting aside her coffee, she scooped up her pants and rose to her feet. She fished out the coins he’d seen the previous night and proceeded to dump them onto the couch cushion next to him. “I know you’re used to getting settled. I don’t even know if these are worth anything. But let me hire you, Nate. Just for a few days to watch my back while I let all this heal up. This friend of yours…you might trust him, but I don’t. I trust what I see. What I know.”

When she sat back down, her weight tilted the couch so that some of the coins slipped between her leg and the cushions. Her eyes were solemn when they met his. “I trust you. But if you don’t want to do this, I’ll disappear. You won’t have to worry about me anymore.”

Nathan picked up the largest silver coin, surprised by the weight against his palm. He held it up to the light to better study the engravings. Something about them sparked his memory, but the details eluded him, disappearing completely when he attempted to grab onto them. Though the gold coin produced the same effect, it dawned on him they could actually be worth a great deal. He knew a few traders and collectors who might pay top dollar. It would almost make up for the money he lost last night.

Are you really going to take this girl’s money?

Nathan silenced the small voice. They could both agree to a job. Services rendered in return for payment. Nothing personal. Nothing but business. It put a wall between them, a shield he would need if he were going to help her.

Scooping up the rest of the coins, he nodded. “You have a deal.”

Her reaction was instantaneous. Beaming, Remy launched herself at Nathan, looping her arms around his neck to knock him off-balance and against the back of the couch. He didn’t even have time to push her off before her mouth found his, her tongue pushing past his feeble defenses to sweep inside and remind him of all the dreams that had plagued his sleep. But just as quickly as it started, it stopped, and she pulled away to gaze down at him with that wicked smile he was learning to recognize.

“Deal.”

He couldn’t resist sweeping her hair away from her face. Both paused. From the dark depths of her eyes, his reflection stared back at him, and Nathan couldn’t look away. Remy might have trapped him like that forever, but she shifted against him, grinding against his growing erection, and it snapped him out of his trance.

His mind told him to push her away, but his body had other plans. He buried his fingers in her hair and smashed his lips to hers. He plundered her mouth, allowing his self-control to slip for a moment, long enough to kiss her the way he had wanted to kiss her the night before. Long enough to explore every bit of her mouth, and taste the bitter coffee against her tongue. Long enough to hold her against him, long enough to hear her moan.

“God, Nate…” Her nails scratched at his nape, sending shivers down his spine. Somehow, she wormed her legs around his hips, half burying them in the back of the cushions, until all he felt was the heat of her pussy seeping into his cock. “Tell me I’m not the only one who dreamt of this. Tell me you couldn’t get thoughts of me out of your head, too.”

“You’re not the only one.” His hands slid under her shirt. “I was hard for you all night.” The words were hurried, distracted, as he pulled the T-shirt over her head. A piece of cloth had never been so maddening. As soon as she was free of its confines, he pulled away from her mouth and slid his lips down her neck.

Nathan cupped one full breast, moving his palm over her nipple in a slow circle. Remy gasped, arching toward him, grinding against his erection. All he had to do was unzip his pants, and he’d be inside her.

The pounding on the door came from a great distance, but it was enough to penetrate the thick layer of fog surrounding his mind. “I am going to kill him.”

“Leave it.” Her hand slipped between their bodies, nails catching on his bare stomach, and grasped his straining cock through his pants. As she squeezed, it was his turn to gasp, and his head swam as her hot mouth descended to catch his ear lobe between her teeth.

Nathan moaned, taking her wrist to pull her hand away. “I would. But I have to…” Remy kissed him, cutting off his explanation. Isaac pounded on the door again. Obviously, whatever the other man wanted, it was urgent. Urgent enough he’d break the door down next. Nathan twisted to lower Remy to the couch, though tearing his mouth away wasn’t quite as easy. “It might be important.”

She let him go without further protest, but she didn’t look happy about it. “I’m coming,” he shouted as he crossed the apartment.
Except now I’m not. So, this better be good.

The pounding continued all the way to the door. Nathan had barely opened it when a far-too-chipper Isaac pushed his way inside, a folder in one hand, a bulging bag of warm bagels in the other.

“You are never going to believe the break we got. One of my sources tipped me on a meeting that’s supposed to go down tonight between Tian and one of the other gangs. So far, it’s holding water, so I’ve got food, I’ve got maps, and you and me are going to—whoa.”

Nathan followed his friend’s widening gaze to see Remy leaning against the corner of the wall. Though she had at least put the T-shirt back on, the mess of her hair and her swollen mouth made it all too obvious what they had had been doing.

“Who’s your friend?” she asked.

Isaac’s announcement had cooled Nathan’s ardor, but he was the only one in the room interested in Tian. Remy and Isaac continued regarding each other. Isaac appeared to be awestruck. Not that Nathan blamed him.

“Remy, this is Isaac McGuire. Isaac, this is Remy. Now that we have the introductions out of the way,” Nathan took the bag of bagels and gestured toward the kitchen, “let’s talk about this tip.”

“You don’t need me then.” She jerked her head toward the bathroom. “Mind if I use the shower? I’m feeling a little—” her lashes ducked to glance at his crotch, “—sticky.”

“Feel free. There should be a clean towel in the closet.” They both watched her saunter out of the room without speaking. When she disappeared down the hall, he shifted his focus back to find Isaac scowling at him. “What? Like you would have been able to resist her?”

“That’s not the point. That…” He jabbed a finger at the space Remy had just filled, like a specter of her still lingered. Nathan wasn’t so sure one didn’t. “…is begging for trouble. You’re the smart one, remember? Or you were until…” His gaze slid back to where she had disappeared, leaning to the side as if to catch a last fleeting glance. “No wonder you didn’t want me to come over last night. I’m surprised your knees are still working enough for you to get up and answer the door.”

“Nothing happened last night. Well, not what you’re thinking. We can discuss it after we talk about Tian. When and where’s the meeting?” Nathan didn’t think Isaac even heard his question. He was still looking down the hall. Water roared through the old pipes behind the thin walls. “She’ll be back in a few minutes. You can gawk at her then. Now, Tian?”

Though Isaac followed him into the kitchen, it took another mention of his original purpose for him to focus enough and answer Nathan’s question. “I ran with your info on the grenades. Turns out Tian’s courting a new supplier, a group from down by the border. We don’t know anything about them except they started in South America. Argentina, actually, near Buenos Aires. They’re trying to expand into the American market, and Tian’s looking to be their primary distributor.”