Dangerous (11 page)

Ryan

“Another?” I whispered into her hair as the screen went black.

She tilted her head back and stared up at me, tears shining in her eyes. “Really?”

I nodded.

“I was worried you might have been bored.”

“No. Of course not.”

How could I have been bored around her? She was intoxicating. The smell of her hair; the soft touch of her skin. She’d automatically led me to one of those old-fashioned double seats. As the movie went on, we’d gravitated to one another; by the end we were squeezed so close that we would have fit in a single seat. She couldn’t have bored me if she tried.

I couldn’t say the same thing about the movie. I’d never been into black and white movies. I don’t know, I just never saw the point. In any movie really. Give me a football game and a six-pack. That’s all the entertainment I need.

But I liked the old movie theater. I’d walked past it so many times, but never really noticed it was there. The seats were faded red velvet from being sat on hundreds of times. There was even a curtain across the screen. I glanced down at her and smiled when I saw her profile. She was staring into space, a cute smile on her face.

I shook my head.

“What?” she glanced up at me.

“Nothing,” I murmured.

She bit her lip, and it was my turn to wonder what she was thinking. I didn’t say anything, though. It was all so strange—I’d written off this part of my life. But now, I couldn’t stand the idea of going home alone to an empty apartment.

“Didn’t you say you have a party?”

Just walk away, Ryan.

She shrugged and smiled. “I guess,” she said slowly. “It’s Julia’s friend. I was just going to tag along.”

I nodded slowly. My brain was telling me to get up and walk away, but my body wasn’t responding. Worse, it was doing the opposite of what I wanted it to do. I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her even closer. There was no such thing as too close when it came to Amy—I couldn’t get enough of her.

Even though I knew the dangers.

Even though I could still remember what it felt like to have my world destroyed.

“You know, I think I have a better idea,” I heard myself say.

She grinned mischievously, knowing immediately what I meant. And before I knew what was happening, she’d grabbed my hand and was leading me up the stairs and out of the darkened movie theater.

Amy

I didn’t know the reason for his change of heart about relationships, but there had definitely been one. I’d spent the last few nights at his place; hell, most of my meager belongings now resided there as I kept going back to Julia’s apartment to grab a change of clothes or a pair of shoes for a job interview.

I was intoxicated by him. And he wasn’t just having a healing effect on my body. He was having that effect on my mind. I no longer woke in the middle of the night screaming, unable to explain the strange feelings that hung over me until midday. I could only attribute that to the ways in which he exhausted my body and then wrapped his huge, strong arms around me.

And it seemed like my mind was starting to clear. Whenever I sat in a silent room, I swore I could hear a strange voice in my mind. At first, I’d thought I was going even crazier, but it was always the same; it always said the same thing. And even though I couldn’t remember anything else, I felt sure it had something to do with that night in my apartment.

The cops were a lot more skeptical than Ryan and Julia, who’d encouraged me to call them again. I found that out when I breathlessly called Detective Morrison to report the progress.

“What did they say?” Ryan asked as I ended the call.

I shook my head. “I think he thinks I’m wasting his time.”

He frowned. “No. Well, it’s vague. But it’s something, right? What did he say?”

I moaned with contentment as he came to me and wrapped me in his huge arms. Suddenly the detective’s dismissive tone didn’t bite as bad as before.

“He told me to let him do his job and call him when I remember something concrete.”

“Have you remembered anything else?”

I shook my head. “No. Just the voice. I swear it was in my apartment. I don’t know how I know. A man. He…”

Ryan nodded encouragingly. “He didn’t sound…”

I shook my head. It sounded crazy to say when I didn’t even have a face to attach it to, but the voice reminded me of Steve’s, my old boss from Tupelo Partners. He was a paunchy executive who drank to excess every opportunity he got. He’d also been educated at the most expensive prep schools before he’d gone to Yale.

Not the voice of your average home invader.

Ryan frowned. “You told the cop that?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, but I don’t think he even listened to me.”

He squeezed me tight. “You’re safe here. I’ll never let anyone harm you again, you know that?”

I looked up at him, forcing back the ear-to-ear grin that was threatening to appear on my face. “I can take care of myself,” I said.

I needed him to know that; needed him to see I was capable of standing on my own two feet. I didn’t need him; I wanted him.

Ryan raised his eyebrow. “Oh yeah?” he teased. “Like last time?”

I swatted at him, but he danced out of the way, surprisingly light on his feet for such a huge man.

“That was low,” I murmured, coming after him.

He shook his head smiling. “I know. I’m sorry.” He reached for my hips and lifted me to him, and all my frustrations were forgotten. “I just wanted you to know. I’m looking out for you.”

This time, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. I bent my head and kissed him, and my stomach burst out in butterflies. I gasped.

I was wrong. I didn’t just want him. I needed him. I couldn’t help it—he was an addiction.

Ryan

“Ryan?”

We didn’t bother with formalities in my line of work.

“It’s me.”

“Listen. I need you.”

My heart raced. I glanced at the clock on the nightstand. Its luminous green digits said it was five am. Beside me, Amy’s breathing was shallow and regular. She was still in a deep sleep. Which was exactly where I should have been.

“It’s five in the fucking morning.”

“Fuck this, Ryan,” he drawled. “How am I supposed to reach you if you get pissy about me coming to your apartment?”

“Uninvited.”

“Huh. Well, whatever. I’ve got something big. My client is really… excited about this.”

I bolted upright. “The same one as before?”

“Yup. Something’s come up on his side.”

His breathing sounded strange; tense. I didn’t like it. I could say a lot of things about Max, but he didn’t often lose his cool. I waited. Suggesting he was stressing would only drive him closer to the edge.

“Oh?” I said, staring at Amy’s sleeping form.

“Look, it’s a big one,” he said at last. “Do you really want me to go into specifics?”

“No, of course not.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was awake less than two minutes and already the prick was giving me a headache.

“Can you come over?”

“It’s five in the morning, Max.”

He sighed. I could almost hear the sound of him gritting his teeth.

“Feel free to call one of your other guys.”

He paused. “I need you on this, you jerk. And you know that.”

I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll call you later.”

I dialed off and threw off the covers. I was wide awake now; wired.

I walked out of the bedroom and closed the door quietly behind me. There was something nagging me. It was almost like he was in a state of panic. And that wasn’t like Max.

I didn’t know who this client was, but it said a lot that Max seemed utterly petrified of him. Or at least, revered enough to go into panic mode and call me. Max didn’t seem to be afraid of anyone. I sat on the couch and tapped my fingers on my bare knee. I ground my teeth.

I’d written this client of Max’s off as some idiot who had more money than sense. But that couldn’t have been true—if it had been, Max would have eaten him for breakfast. He was rich, reckless
and
dangerous? That was an interesting combination. Guys like that usually found themselves on the front of the national papers sooner or later.

I sighed and stood up, walking to the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. It was empty except for a six pack. I cursed and paced across the room again. Something wasn’t right about this. I pulled my cell phone off the table and debated whether to call Max back. I felt weary all of a sudden, like maybe it was time to get out.

But…

I ran through my options, in my head, over and over. I was stuck in such a bind that I didn’t even notice that it had gotten light outside the tiny window. Amy got out of bed and jumped in the shower, giving me a curious look as she walked past and saw me huddled on the couch, weighing my dilemma.

“Everything okay?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. Just work stuff.”

She stopped mid-step and came to me, throwing her towel-clad body beside me. The scent of her freshly washed skin wafted to me in seconds and I noticed she’d used my shower gel. That was sexy—her enveloped in the clean, masculine scent I used.

“Anything I can help with?” she asked, her eyelids still heavy with sleep.

I shook my head and threw my cell on the table. “Nah.”

“Even if you just want to throw ideas around? I know I won’t know the details of what you’re doing.”

I froze.

“I don’t know the first thing about insurance, but I dunno. Maybe talking might help.”

I exhaled with relief. Of course, she didn’t know exactly what I was faced with.

“There’s a guy,” I said hesitantly. “A guy I work with.”

She smiled sleepily. “You’ve never told me about the people you work with.”

I shrugged. Yeah, well. That’s the downside. One of the downsides. Guys like me can’t ask for career advice from our friends or families, and we don’t exactly socialize outside of the office. At least I never did. Maybe I was the exception: it worked for the Italians and the Russian families. They were all totally immersed in each other’s lives.

They were also fucked when it came to informers. I liked my way better, I decided. No one knew everything about me; no one.

“Well look, I’m here. If you need to talk about it.”

There she goes again,
I thought.
Completely disarming me
.

By not pushing me, she made me burst to tell her. Not the full truth, obviously.

“This guy. He’s kind of an unknown. Different to other clients.”

“How so?”

“Well…” I thought about it, trying to put it into corporate words. “We need to work together on a… project. He doesn’t operate like others. I don’t know much about him, but my gut tells me he’s a loose cannon. I’m worried he could drag me down with him.”

Her adorable face curled up into a frown. “Would it reflect badly in your performance review?”

I had to stifle a laugh. “You could say that I guess.”

“You have to be more specific. Say the project does fail or whatever. What’s gonna be the impact on your career?”

I won’t have one. I’ll be in maximum security pen somewhere far away from your gorgeous face
. “Hard to say.”

“Well try. It’s the only way you’re going to make an objective decision. Weigh up the pros and cons. The risks and opportunities.”

“Opportunities?”

“Yeah. Like what you’re going to get if you deliver the project. I’m surprised you don’t have these processes at your work. In my old job, we lived and breathed them. And that was at a small practice. Imagine what it’s like in the big four accounting firms or in management consulting?”

I nodded along, only understanding every second or third word she said. We were so different, me and her. With her gray areas and opportunities and cons and…

Opportunity: easy money. And power for Max.

Risk: death. Or death row.

“Ryan?”

I thought back to Max’s agitation. “A lot of money if we pulled it off.”

She nodded. “Maybe it’s worth it.”

I frowned at her. “Do I look like the kinda guy who needs money?”

She glanced around my apartment and I could see her thoughts as clearly as if she’d said them. “I don’t care if you’re rich or poor or somewhere in between. But this apartment could use some fresh furniture.”

I shouldered her playfully. “You after me for my money, huh?”

She shook her head. “No. Not your money.”

“What then?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. You’re different.”

“So it’s a lady and the tramp thing, is it?”

She shouldered me back, a look of pure outrage on her face. “No, you fucktard. You’re different to other guys I’ve met.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “You and me. I dunno, maybe it’s stupid. But I feel like we’re a lot the same.”

I sighed. If she only knew the truth.

I turned back to find her watching me thoughtfully. “What?” I demanded.

She shook her head laughing. “I didn’t expect you to be so… conservative, you know?”

“I’m not.”

She looked skeptical. I felt a rush of adrenaline. I leaped from the couch and grabbed my cell. “Back in a sec.”

***

She watched me curiously as I walked to the bedroom and closed the door behind me. Sure, I was getting used to having her around, but some things needed to remain private. They always would. That was why a relationship wasn’t a good idea for someone like me—well, just one of the reasons. Living alone, single; there was nobody to answer to. That would all change if I allowed myself to get involved, I reminded myself. What happened when she asked where I’d been all evening? I couldn’t exactly tell her what I’d been doing.

I shook my head, knowing there was little point in thinking about the future like that. I wouldn’t let it get that far—what was the benefit? I leaned against the wall and called Max. He answered after the first ring.

“Hey, man.”

“You take your crazy pills?” he demanded. “If someone called me with a deal like this, I wouldn’t have needed hours to think about it.”

“Nah. I’ve just…”

What?
I wondered. Was it just that I didn’t like the sound of this client, or was it something else? Ever since I’d met Amy, things had been different.

“You’ve just what?”

“Nothing, man. I had stuff to do.”

“So what do you think?” he said quickly and breathlessly.

This was a big deal for him. His operation wasn’t exactly small-time, but this was different. That last job? Nobody could afford to pay like that unless they were serious players. This could be an opportunity for Max to expand his influence across the entire city. Hell, I didn’t begrudge him that—I’d get some serious cash for my part in it all. Put like that, how could I possibly have hesitated?

“Yeah. Sounds good.”

I wasn’t telling Max about how I’d considered retiring from the life. What was I gonna do? Move to Florida and play shuffleboard with my fucking grandparents? No. A momentary lapse in judgment, that was all.

“I’m in.”

He grunted; I’d known him long enough to recognize that sound as a note of approval.

“Usual place. How soon can you make it?”