Hard Break (Deadlines & Diamonds, #5) (5 page)

Six

K
ayla thought the hardest part of Leon’s death was behind them. Ha! Life couldn’t be that kind. She’d hung up with the department advocate having learned an arrest had been made and…

A knock on the front door caused her to pause. She didn’t want to talk to anyone. But it’d been a knock, not the doorbell, which meant odds were Ian
McCallister stood on the porch. She may not want company, but she wanted someone to help decipher the latest barrage in this shit-storm she called her life.

Opening the door, she smiled at the fast food bag he held at eye level. He muscled his way inside. “I thought you might be hungry.”

“I hungy.” Penelope raced down the stairs.

He handed her a cardboard box containing a kid’s meal. “You have to eat all your apples.”

“I will.” And she scampered into the kitchen.

“
You all right?”

Kayla blew at her bangs. “Yeah.” She closed her eyes and sighed. “No.”

“What’s up?” He studied her face. “Kay?”

“I’d really like to k
now who I screwed over to make karma hate me so badly.”

Ian chuckled softly. “I’m sure you didn’t screw anybody over.”

“Then I must be a horrible person.”

“You’re not a horrible person. You’re an amazing person.”

Yeah, yeah, Ian always said things like that. “Then why does karma hate me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Karma doesn’t hate you.”

“Tell me you brought chocolate.” She eyed the bag he held.

He grinned. “Of course. That chocolate pie you like.”

“My hero.”

He laughed, shook his head. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

When they were sitting at the table, Ian unloaded the bags. He slid the salad she liked across the table toward her. “Sorry, I didn’t get drinks.”

“
I got some.” She grabbed a couple of Coke Zeros out of the fridge.

This had become their routine. About this time every day, Ian
left his job at the station and showed up bearing food. The first week she hadn’t opened the door. The second week she hadn’t wanted to, but did. Now, the third week since burying Leon, she looked forward to having someone to talk to, someone who didn’t pity her, someone who didn’t want anything from her, someone willing to help her expecting nothing in return.

H
e didn’t want anything, because she’d asked. He’d simply laughed, crossed his arms over his chest and snorted.

“Is it so hard to believe I care about what happens to you guys?”

“Yeah, it kinda is.”

His mouth had tightened then. “Kayla, are you really going to push away the one person willing to help you?”

“I have nothing to give you, Ian.”

He smiled,
genuine platonic affection shining in his eyes. “You got nothin’ I want, Kay.”

And that had been that.

At some point he’d get tired of waiting on her and doting on the kids and move on, but until then she’d accept his help, his friendship.

He popped a fry into his mouth, took a swig of soda and swallowed. “So you wanna tell me why karma hates you?”

She wiped her mouth with a napkin. “You’d think that after Leon losing his life, we’d get enough to live ours.”

He frowned. “I was afraid of that.”

“You were?” She hadn’t been. Silly her, she’d thought she and the kids would be set. Not that she expected to live like royalty or anything, but she did kind of think they’d be able to continue living the way they had been.

“Yeah, we’ve covered stories about fallen heroes and the piece
s their families have to pick up. I guess I hoped your case would be different.”

“Well, it’s not.” She wanted to curse, would have if Penelope hadn’t been playing with her new toy at the other end of the table.

“We’ll work it out.” Ian shrugged and took a bite of his burger.

“Not
we
, Ian.”

“Oh good grief!” he
barked around his food. He chewed, swallowed. “Stop being so damn touchy.”

“I’m not being touchy.” She dropped her fork, which
perklunked
on the table. “This isn’t your problem, Ian. We are not your problem.”

One shoulder rose, fell. “I can’t argue with that.”

He stood, gathered his mostly eaten burger in the crinkly paper and chucked it in the garbage. He took a final swig of the Coke, tossed the can in the recycle bin and strode out of the kitchen.

Kayla didn’t follow
and had to admit to being a bit surprised when the front door opened and closed quietly. She owed him an apology, but she’d be damned if she could summon the courage to chase him down and offer it.

Lif
e would be easier without Ian. That wasn’t exactly true. The hellish rollercoaster she was on would definitely be easier with Ian in the passenger seat, but he didn’t belong there. He had a life of his own to live.

Besides he’d leave eventually and if she’d come to depend on him…

It’d definitely be much better if he walked away now.

S
ometimes Ian wanted to shake Kayla silly. Just grab her by the shoulders and shake her until her head cleared. She frustrated the shit out of him. It wasn’t as if he were asking her to marry him. Hell, he’d done his damnedest to keep his feelings under wraps.

S
he was in hell, no denying that. But he’d shown up with a fire hose, trying to keep the flames at bay while she picked up the damn pieces of her life. He hadn’t asked her for a freakin’ thing. Not one. Damn. Thing.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe this mess wasn’t his problem. Maybe she and the kids would be just fine and he was spinning his wheels, tromping all over hallowed ground.

His stomach growled. Dammit
. Whatever. He shouldn’t be eating that nuclear waste anyway. Eat clean. It wasn’t just a gimmick. Ian’s body had been all out of whack since Leon’s death. He needed to get his shit together.

Screw all this drama.

Ian needed to hit the gym, wipe Kayla and the kids out of his head. Even if only for a couple hours. Because fool that he was he’d jump right back into the madness that was Kayla’s life as soon as she opened the door again.

Color him stupid.

He jogged up the stairs of his house, changed into a black wife-beater and shorts, grabbed his Nikes and headed back downstairs. The whole ordeal took less than five minutes. Add three to the clock and he was out the door, keys in hand.

The local country station had been taken over by sad and sappy, so he turned the dial to something loud and angry. Hard beats, insane guitar solos and incensed lyrics drove the thoughts of his home situat
ion out of his head. Except the moment he praised his ability to forget them, the Black family showed up in his frontal lobe.

A police cruiser pulled up behind him at a light.

Perfect.

He prepared himself for the flash of the red and blue, mentally handing over the license, registration and proof of insurance. The only light he saw, though, was the flash of red to green.

Slowly, gently pressing his foot against the accelerator, the Mustang eased off the line. North Las Vegas’ finest stayed close, but as Ian turned into the gym’s parking lot, the uniforms kept right on driving.

What a joke.

He hadn’t done anything wrong. Now he’d drifted from pathetic to paranoid.
Awesome!

Ian got out, lo
cked his Mustang and strode toward the gym. The parking lot seemed a little barren, familiar vehicles lacking.

The moment he opened the door a sense of rightness welcomed him. He’d missed this place and hadn’t realized how much until just now.
He took a deep breath. If testosterone had a scent, surely this was what it’d smell like.

“Well, hey, stranger.”

Ian looked into the big blue eyes of Denali, a living breathing Barbie doll. With her long blond hair and killer body, men stopped to take notice. Her shorty shorts and sports bra with the six-pack in between didn’t hurt things.

“Hey, babe. How you been?”

“Good.” She smiled. Lots of perfect white teeth. Total freaking package. “Where the hell you been?”

In hell
. “Just had some shit to take care of.” He shot a glance around the gym. “Diaz around?”

Her laugh spoke of humor…and sex. The low husky tone making his groin stop and take notice. “You have been gone a while. He finally landed that job at Encore. He’s been MIA for weeks. They’re working his sexy ass off.”

“That’s a shame.” And it was. Not that Ian gave a rat’s ass about Ryan’s. Sexy as it was, apparently. Ian needed to be pushed to his limits. He needed to peel his muscles off his bones, work them until they screamed for mercy. He needed to feel something other than the pain of watching Kayla flounder.

At least if his abs burned and his thighs ached
so badly he couldn’t stand after taking a dump, he knew that pain would go away.

Maybe what he really needed was to consider moving. To Zimbabwe or freakin’ Timbuktu.

“You need a spotter?”

His turn to laugh. “Like you could help me?”

She frowned, her full lip going pouty. “Hey. I’m stronger than I look.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I think I’ll just hit the
treadmill.” Lame. Seriously damned lame. He had a treadmill at home, and he sure as hell didn’t enjoy playing hamster. He knew all about running and getting nowhere. Story. Of. His. Life.

He crossed the gym and climbed aboard. A few beeps and the tread chugged to life. Setting the pace for a six-minute mile, he checked out the wall of
TVs and focused on the closed caption. Good ol’ KKLV was covering the latest in the attempted murder of Shayne Santiago. Court dates were set. Man, Ian hoped they all got the chair. They deserved worse, but vigilante justice wasn’t legal.

Ah, and the next story was an update on Leon’s killer. The drug dealer turned murderer had been
apprehended in Yuma, Arizona. Apparently the dumb shit didn’t quite run far enough.

Ian wondered if Kayla knew yet.

Did it matter if she did?

He wiped at his face with his forearm and closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to see her sad expression, her tears, but there they were on the dark side of his lids.

Shit!

He stumbled, doubled his step and
cursed again. Enough was enough. He pounded the giant red stop button and all but leapt from the hamster wheel. His desire to ache somewhere other than his heart drove him to the free weights.

He’d start with his legs and work up. He
adjusted the weight limit. Lying back on the padded bench, Ian positioned himself on the leg press. He pushed upward, extending his legs. A familiar strain tensed his thighs and calves. Bending his knees, he brought the weight and his legs back toward his chest. Up, down. Up, down. His breaths matched the motion. In, out. Up, down.

The light clanking of the metal
filled his thoughts. For the first time in weeks, he felt grounded. He hadn’t realized how disconnected he’d become. He didn’t even recognize the man beneath the skin. What the hell had happened to him?

“To update our top stories. Bernardo Ruiz, the man who shot and killed Detective Leon Black last month, has…”

Ian squeezed his lids shut. Yeah. That
was the reason his life become a train wreck.

“I don’t need you. This isn’t your problem.
I don’t need you.”

Dammit, h
e wanted to be needed.

“
Um…Ian?”

His eyes flipped open. Denali smiled at him. She
tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear. A brow rose, her blue eyes twinkled. “You all right?”

“Yeah. I’m good.”

“Why you sitting over here all folded in half?”

“I’m not…” The denial died on his tongue when she giggled.

She sank down on the weight bench next to his, her tight belly showing up at eye level. “What’s wrong?”

“Just got a lot on my mind.” He unfolded his body from the leg press.
Twisting around, he dropped his feet to the floor, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

She leaned forward, too. “Does it have anything to do with why you haven’t been around?”

He didn’t want to talk about it. And yet… “Yeah.”

Her soft hand gently covered his forearm. “Maybe you need to go out and have some fun.”

He grunted.

She laughed. “How about Friday night? My treat.”

Did she just…?

His head snapped up. A smile said he hadn’t misinterpreted the invitation.

“Oh, come on.” Her happy-go-lucky faltered. “Don’t look so mortified.”

“Oh,
man.” His hand flashed out to take hold of hers. “Not mortified. Definitely not mortified.” He shook the cobwebs—and Kayla—out of his head. “You surprised me is all. Friday is great, but I’m not going to let you pay.”