Dangerous (2 page)

“Nah, man. It’s just… He’s a big one.”

I know that. I can tell from the way you’re acting. Just tell me. All I want is the fucking name.

“Yeah? I’m gonna meet him anyway, remember?”

He leaned his head forward so his forehead almost touched my shoulder. “The Soldier,” he said, in a voice so low it took me a couple seconds to be sure I’d heard it.

I frowned.

“You heard of him?” His cold eyes were unreadable.

“Sure.”

I’d heard of him alright. But I wondered what on Earth she’d done to get on his bad side.

“Don’t forget. You need to go talk to him before you do anything.”

I tried to relax my jaw to stop the muscles twitching. They were so tight I was starting to get a headache.

I nodded. “I heard you.”

He started to turn around again and then stopped. “And Ryany baby?”

“Yeah?”

“Do it clean. I do not want him coming after us. Especially not if he goes running to his father.”

“I’m always clean,” I said quietly.

He nodded, satisfied.

This time, he kept on walking.

When I was alone, I turned and stared at the water. It made sense now, that Max was rattled. We weren’t messing around here—this was serious shit. How the hell had she got herself wrapped up in it?

I don’t know how long I stood there, just staring at the rippling water. I knew there was no solution. No amount of thinking would change that. But I couldn’t acknowledge the truth: there was a job to do. And I didn’t have a choice.

Amy

One Month Earlier

“Who’s that guy?” I hissed, staring past Julia at the tall, ripped god of a man who was sitting at the end of the bar.

It wasn’t like me to check out guys in bars—even though, apparently, I was now single. But this guy was different. He wasn’t like the other hipsters and wannabes in Julia’s local dive bar. He wasn’t looking for attention; in fact it looked like the opposite was true. His huge shoulders were hunched up like he was taking up as much space as he could in order to keep the world out. I shivered. There was something about him. Even though he wore a suit, he was nothing like Ben or any other guy I’d dated. I didn’t know what gave me that impression. But damn, he was cute. I tore my gaze away and glanced at Julia to see why she hadn’t answered. I rolled my eyes. Of course she hadn’t heard me—she was engaged in heavy-duty flirtation with the bartender.

“Julia,” I said, tapping her arm to try and steal her attention away. She glanced back at me, seemingly surprised to see me there.

“That guy. Along the bar.”

She turned her head and glanced in his direction, staring at him so blatantly that it was all I could do to stop myself slipping off my barstool and dying of embarrassment.

“I don’t know,” she said, finally.

“I thought you knew everyone in this neighborhood.”

Julia Green was the most social person I’d ever met—we couldn’t go out in public without running into at least two people she knew.

She shrugged. “Most of them. But I’ve never seen him here before. I’m sure I’d remember him if I had.”

I glanced back at the sexy stranger. He was engrossed in the small TV above the bar now; totally unaware of me. Then all of a sudden, it was like someone switched a light off in my head. I was there in the bar, but not there. The noises around us; it was like I had my head under water. My breathing was shallow. I was vaguely conscious of the activity around me, but I was stuck in another world. I closed my eyes, wondering if it was my memory coming back. But there was nothing there except darkness.

“Amy.”

I opened my eyes and felt my awareness rush back.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah. I just… I can’t explain it. It’s been happening since I woke up. The doctors say it’s not unusual for someone with my injuries.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I shouldn’t have taken you to a bar your first day out of hospital.”

“Julia if you start acting all responsible I’ll scream, okay?”

She smiled and I groaned internally. Julia was my best friend, but she wasn’t exactly the tender, Florence Nightingale type. Seeing her act so protective freaked me out. Because it made it all real.

“I’m just worried about you,” she whispered, punching my arm more gently that she usually would. “You almost died on me.”

“You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

She watched me, saying nothing.

“What?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“It’s just… it’s good to have you back. I was so worried.”

I smiled. It was hard to believe I’d been out for an entire month. I’d struggled to believe it myself; I mightn’t have believed it at all if I hadn’t woken up with hairier legs than a gorilla and an absolutely unholy taste in my mouth.

“Well it’s good to be back, I think.” I clinked my glass against hers. “This is much better than lying unconscious in a hospital bed.”

She frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing.” She shook her head, not meeting my eyes.

I had the strangest feeling that there was something there; something I wasn’t aware of. I thought about it, but it was like trying to hang onto the memory of a dream after you’ve woken up. I let it go—I had a fresh head injury; maybe I was just being paranoid. And I certainly didn’t want Julia to worry about me any more than she already was.

I sighed. I needed Ben, I realized. I tried to summon up an image of him in my mind, but to my alarm I couldn’t.

“What’s wrong?” Julia gripped my arm.

“Nothing,” I said, trying to hide my irritation at my dysfunctional brain. I didn’t want her to be concerned; I just wanted to be normal again. “I was just trying to picture Ben and I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried.”

Julia’s usually cheerful expression hardened. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

I bristled. “It is. He’s my boyfriend… I…”

She shook her head and refused to meet my eyes.

“He hasn’t called, has he?” I asked quietly.

She leaned in and stroked my hair. “No, sweetie. I haven’t seen him since that first week in the hospital. The fucking asshole.”

“Julia,” I hissed. “Stop. He went through it too. Maybe that’s why he—”

“Why he left his girlfriend when her life was hanging in the balance?” she said fiercely, her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “He left you. Like
this
. Worse; he left you before you came out of that coma. What kind of asshole does that?”

I held up my hand. “He’s been through the same thing as me, Jules. He’s probably feeling guilty that he got away with a broken arm while I got the head injury.”

She shook her head. I knew she was humoring me.

“Look, I’m not happy with him. I’m just trying to understand his point of view.”

Julia clenched her hands into fists. She sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You’re not the one who split my head open with a ten-pound antique doorstop.”

She winced.

“Sorry.”

I’d had so many discussions with my doctors that I was able to joke about my injuries now. I had to remind myself that others weren’t so desensitized. I just didn’t see how else to deal with it if I wasn’t going to make fun of it. I made a mental note not to joke about it in front of Julia. She was usually the biggest kidder, but the way her face had fallen… I knew instinctively that she was reliving the phone call that night from the police. Even though I’d been living with Ben for months, she was still my emergency contact person. They’d called her at one in the morning to tell her I was in the hospital on life support.

She shook her head. “Why don’t you go chat to Mister Mysterious over there? Take your mind off that fucking asshole.”

I took a huge gulp of my Long Island ice tea. “He’s not an asshole.”

We’d had pretty much the same conversation since that afternoon, when she’d arrived at the hospital to collect me and take me home. I was fast running out of ways to change the subject. Julia had the strangest look on her face. I closed my eyes and looked away, cursing the assholes who’d chosen our apartment for their latest break-in. They’d ruined everything—now even my best friend was treating me like a delicate baby bird that needed to be protected. I was sick of it already.

Ben and I had only moved in together three months earlier. It was gorgeous, the penthouse of a brand new re-development near the port. I would never have been able to afford it without him. I earned about a tenth of what he earned in commissions as a broker, but he’d insisted we get the place of our dreams. I hadn’t heard from him since before the break-in: my memory of that night was completely gone, and I hadn’t seen him since I’d woken up. Apparently, he’d turned up at the hospital a couple times, but that was it. He hadn’t been in touch.

I took another sip of my drink, the alcohol burning my throat. I guess deep down, I thought he’d come back to me once he’d processed everything that happened to us. I felt like the lucky one, sometimes; not being able to remember. I couldn’t even begin to imagine how it had been for him, seeing his girlfriend attacked like that.

“Amy,” Julia whispered.

I smiled. “It’s okay, I was daydreaming this time. I was just trying to remember it.”

Her brow furrowed. “Still nothing?”

“I just want to go back to normal,” I said, suddenly tired of the new conversation topic that was dominating our lives. “I want to forget this whole thing.”

She grinned. “I thought you already had.”

“You know what I mean,” I said, laughing. “Have you talked to the cops?”

She nodded. “Still no leads on the home invasion.”

I shook my head. The cops had visited me in the hospital twice already in the week since I’d regained consciousness; I’d had nothing to tell them. They weren’t surprised: people with injuries like mine often suffered memory loss. It had been almost a week and I still couldn’t remember a thing about that night. I wanted so much to remember; to see those assholes behind bars.

I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. I hated being the victim; hated it. All I wanted was to get out of there and throw myself into my job. “I just want to know they’ve been caught.”

She nodded. “Of course you do.”

I glanced along the bar. The hot guy in the suit was gone. I felt a strange pang of regret—like I’d just missed out on something good without ever knowing what it was. My stomach rumbled. I glanced at the clock above the bar. It was almost seven. We’d nibbled on bar snack, but we hadn’t eaten anything substantial since we left the hospital.

“Did the cops give you back the keys?”

She went gray. Literally. Right in front of my eyes. “Just come stay with me for a couple days, okay? Until you get back on your feet.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t that I didn’t love the idea of staying with Julia. It’d be just like high school, where we’d been extensions of one another. It was way preferable to an empty apartment and memories of Ben.

“I just want to go back to my own place. How about you come stay with me there? It’ll be more comfortable. I’ll make us lasagna. I’ve been dying for proper food, I can’t wait—”

“Amy,” Julia said gravely.

I looked up at her, and I knew then. I just knew—you don’t spend your entire life around someone and not know their every facial expression. She wasn’t just concerned about me being alone in the apartment. There was something else. My heart started to race.

“Julia?” I said, my voice high and tense.

She looked away. This was hard for her.

“Please,” I whispered, wondering what it was she was protecting me from.

“The apartment,” she said, in a low monotone that sounded nothing like her voice. It was like a stranger was talking.

My stomach plummeted with dread.

“It’s… it’s gone, Amy.”

“What do you mean, gone?”

“I spoke to your landlord. He’s already found new tenants.”

I narrowed my eyes. “He can’t have. We’ve paid first and last months’ rent. And three months in advance.”

She looked down at her hands.

“Tell me.”

She shook her head. “Ben canceled the contract,” she said finally.

My mouth fell open. If it had been anyone else but Julia, I would have struggled to believe them. But I’d known her for most of my life. “He wouldn’t do that, Jules. He wouldn’t.”

“Well, he did.”

My head was swimming all of a sudden; Julia had to grab me to stop me falling off the stool. I just couldn’t believe it—he wouldn’t do that, would he? That was our home—I mean, sure, he hadn’t spent a lot of time there, but it was still our home.

“What about my stuff?” I asked.

“It’s all in my apartment waiting for you. Well, anything the cops haven’t taken as evidence.”

I frowned. “Did they take much?”

“The cops?”

“No. The burglars.”

Both times the cops had visited, they’d asked me more about the assault than about the burglary. I’d assumed that they had spoken to Ben about what was missing. Not that I had much in the line of valuables.

She shrugged. “I couldn’t find your laptop. Or your cell phone. But I didn’t notice anything else missing.”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “Asshole,” I whispered. I’d spent the week dwelling on what-ifs. I’d made up so many excuses for him not coming to visit. But this was it. I couldn’t make excuses for this. He’d made me homeless. The guy I loved had put me out on the street.