If You See Her (25 page)

“How do you know it’s loaded?” She lifted her chin.

Angling his head to the side, he asked, “Well, do you want me to check?” Then he shook his head. “You came here gunning for blood and if you’d decided I was responsible, you were perfectly willing to pull that trigger. I saw it in your eyes. You’re not leaving here with the gun.”

Nia curled her hands into fists. He wasn’t wrong. Yes, she’d been willing, and ready—hell, she’d been
dying
to kill. Anything to avenge Joely. Slowly, she blew out a breath. “You’re not off-base,” she said softly. “You’re not. But you didn’t do it, I see that, and I’m not so lost in grief that I’m going to kill innocent people.”

“Grief does bad things to the head,” Reilly said quietly. “Sometimes innocent doesn’t look all that innocent.”

“Yeah. Grief does bad things to the head. But I’m not blind. You can be a charming bastard, I’d bet my bike on that.” She skimmed him over with a quick look from head to toe and then looked at Hope. “But if I’m supposed to believe
this
woman had anything to do with killing somebody … hell, no.”

There was something about the way she said it that made it seem both insult and fact, Hope decided.

And for some reason, the fact that the woman had decided Hope wasn’t capable was this woman’s reason for
not
killing them? It didn’t do much to soothe the wild fear in Hope’s belly just then.

Of course, she was also completely pissed over the dismissive way the woman had looked her over … the way she’d sneered at her and called her
Tinkerbell
.

Weak.

The woman looked at her and saw
weakness
, the same way so many other people did.

Blood stained her cheeks red as the woman’s eyes bored into hers.

She had it—that indefinable confidence, that strength. The same kind of confidence Lena had. The kind of confidence, the strength Hope would never have.

Even though grief ravaged her face, turning her dusky skin translucent and leaving shadows under her pretty brown eyes, she looked strong. Confident. Ready.

And she stared at Hope the same way so many others did.

That
Tinkerbell
comment had pissed her off, for reasons Hope couldn’t even imagine.

“So because I don’t look like much, you think we should just give you your gun and let you go on your way?” Hope said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Look, I’m sorry. I already said that. What else do you want?”

“How about you give me an idea what made you think we were responsible?” Law asked.

Her mouth twisted in a sneer. “Fine. I can tell you that. Her name was Deb Sparks. Now you give me my fucking gun.”

“Deb.” Law closed his eyes.

Hope could have screamed.

The woman looked between the two of them and her eyes narrowed. “This woman pulled this before?”

“She’s just … imaginative,” Law bit off.

Imaginative, my ass
, Hope thought.

“Fine. You got her name. Maybe you can go have Tinkerbell there give her a talking-to. Now can I have my gun?”

“No.”

“Give me my damned gun,” she snarled, moving as though she might come after Law.

Law shifted, his body braced and ready. Despite his casted arm, he didn’t look at all worried, and the woman
scowled at him. “You’re not getting the gun, angel. Deal with it.”

Hope smiled and angled her head to the phone lying on the floor. “You could always call the cops,” she offered. “Tell them we stole your gun.”

Her belly jumped even thinking about it, but as the woman’s gaze cut to hers, she knew there was nothing to worry about. This woman wouldn’t be calling the cops.

Her eyes lingered on Hope’s for a moment.

Then she looked at Law, the tension dragging on.

Finally, without saying another word, she turned on her heel and stormed out, her booted heels thudding dully on the polished hardwood floors.

Somehow, Hope knew they hadn’t seen the last of her.

It was a terrifying thought.

“Should I call the sheriff?” she asked quietly.

Law shook his head and moved to the door, watching the woman.

“No.”

“She just pulled a gun on us.”

He didn’t say anything, just kept staring out the door.

Long after the dust from her bike settled, Law continued to stare after her.

When he finally turned around and met Hope’s gaze, she was braced for him to be pissed, or mad. Or something.

What she wasn’t prepared for was the pensive, almost thoughtful look on his face.

She knew his expressions—knew them pretty well, especially after living under the same roof as him for the past month.

He looked … interested. Very, very interested.

“Law.”

He glanced at her, that familiar, distracted look on his face. The bruises had all but faded, leaving just a few discolored areas here and there. He hadn’t shaved, but it
wasn’t a bad look for him. It was a scruffy, sexy look, she guessed, one that a lot of women would find pretty damn attractive.

“That woman just pulled a gun on us.”

“Yeah. I know.” He frowned and reached around behind his back, pulled the gun from wherever he had jammed it—hell, people really did just shove them in their waistbands? He eyed the Browning, that bemused, befuddled look still on his face.

He didn’t look scared, though. Despite the fact that he was holding that gun in his hand.

Hope, on the other hand, felt like she might puke. Pressing a hand to her belly, she said, “Is it loaded?”

He shot her a glance, then grunted. “Hard for me to check one-handed, but yeah. I’m pretty sure it’s loaded.”

Hope groaned and when her knees buckled, she happily let them, sinking to the floor and pressing her forehead against them. A cold sweat broke out all over her body. “It’s loaded. She came out here with an unregistered, loaded gun and now she’s gone—we don’t know if she’s going to come back and try to kill us while we sleep. You don’t want me calling the sheriff’s office. And you look like you want to eat her for lunch.”

He was quiet and she peeked up at him, saw that he was still studying the gun like it held some great mystery of the universe.

Swearing, she surged to her feet and glared at him.
“Law!”

“Huh?”

“That woman is
insane
. She all but threatened to kill us—had a loaded, unregistered gun—and you just let her traipse away. And you look like you want to hunt her down and get her phone number! And her bra and panty size, too.”

A dull red flush settled over his cheekbones. Sighing, he set the gun down on the table under the mirror.
“Hope, she’s not going to come back and kill us in our sleep.”

“Yeah, and how are you so sure? Did you go and turn into Ms. Cleo overnight or something?” she asked, her voice thick with sarcasm.

Slanting a narrow look at her, he muttered, “Geez, you went and got mouthy over the past few weeks, Tinkerbell.”

“Don’t call me that.” Shoving a hand through her hair, she glanced at the gun and then back at him. “Look, I’m just freaked out. You said it yourself—grief does bad things to a person’s head. You know that. Hell,
I
know that.”

She’d been reeling over her parents’ unexpected deaths just a few weeks after graduation when she married Joey. If she’d taken a little more time, grown up more, maybe even just gone to college and had some time to figure out who in the hell she was, maybe he wouldn’t have been able to hurt her the way he had.

“Hope.”

Looking up, she met his gaze. He crossed the hall and reached up, curled a hand around the back of her neck, drew her against his chest. Sighing, she rested her head against him, listened to the comforting sound of his heartbeat. Level, steady … alive. He was there—he’d always been there. Nothing had happened.

“Damn it, what if she’d shot you?” she whispered, tears thickening in her throat.

“She didn’t. And now that’s she’s cooled down and figured out just what sort of person she’d gotten her story from, she’s not going to. That woman isn’t any sort of idiot.” He rubbed his hand up and down her spine. “It’s okay, kid. Everything’s fine.”

“But what if …”

Oh, shit.

The storm inside her broke.

Reaction settled in hard and fast, and before she knew it, she was shaking, shaking so hard she could barely stand. Her teeth rattled, tears burned out of her eyes and she couldn’t think, couldn’t see, could hardly breathe.

“Hope …” Helpless, Law curled his useless right arm around her as best as he could. “Come on, sweetheart. I’m fine.
You’re
fine.”

But she didn’t seem to hear him. Wasn’t even aware of him as she trembled like a leaf.

Feeling a pair of eyes boring into his neck, he whipped his head around. Tension spiked—adrenaline rushed.

And then it drained out when he saw Remy standing there.

Although judging by that strange glitter in Remy’s eyes …

“Come on in,” Law said. “Maybe you can calm her down.”

“Calm her down?” Remy echoed, as jealousy tore a nasty, ugly hole in his gut.

They were close.

He knew that.

He’d have to deal with it.

But standing there, watching while Hope leaned against Law …

Then he realized something.

Hope was shaking.

Trembling, terrified, and although that ivory complexion of hers was always pale, she wasn’t ever
that
pale.

“What in the hell is wrong?” he asked.

At the sound of his voice, Hope flinched.

Then she blinked and glassy eyes focused on his face. “Remy?”

“Yeah. Hey, what’s wrong?”

She pushed away from Law, her movements clumsy
and stiff, like somebody who’d been asleep. She took one stumbling step toward him and he caught her, steadied her. To his surprise, she cuddled against his chest, rested her brow against him and sighed. It shuddered out of her and as he brought one hand up to rest it on her waist, the tension in her slender body seemed to drain away.

“What’s wrong, Hope?” He rubbed his lips against her temple, not entirely sure she’d tell him a damn thing, but he couldn’t not ask.

“Hmmm. Crazy day. Just give me a minute,” she whispered.

“I can do that.” Yeah, he could stand there for quite a while holding her. Especially when she snuggled closer. Then she slid her arms around his waist and pressed in even tighter, like she couldn’t get close enough.

The blood in his head began a slow, dangerous descent.

Oh, damn.

But backing away didn’t seem to be an option, either, because even though she didn’t seem quite so shaken, she was still worked up over something. Every few seconds, an odd little hitching breath would escape her, like she was struggling not to sob.

Her fingers were kneading the flesh at his waist, kind of like a cat.

And there was so much tension in the air, he could cut it with a knife.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Law moving off to the side. Caught him grabbing something off a table in the hall, tucking it behind him. Narrowing his eyes, he angled his head to catch a glance, but no luck.

Hope shifted against his chest and then eased back, her lashes low over her misty green eyes. “Geez, sorry about that,” she murmured. She winced and reached up,
smoothing her hands down the front of his suit. “I’m getting you wrinkled.”

“Screw it.” He cupped her chin in his hand, tipping her face up to his. She had tears drying on her face. And although she tried to hide it, there was fear dancing in the depths of her eyes.

He was sick and tired of seeing her afraid—hadn’t she had enough fear in her life? What had caused it this time?

He stroked a thumb over her lip as he asked, “So what’s going on?”

It had better not be that sick fuck of an ex. Remy just might decide to pay the bastard a social call. He could get to Oklahoma and back fast enough. Nobody had to even know he was gone, he figured.

Law appeared in the doorway and Hope glanced over at him, her face twisting in a grimace. “Law and I had a visitor. Apparently your town gossip is going around spreading tales about how Law and I have this very torrid, and very twisted, relationship—when we’re not tearing up the sheets, we’re killing women for kicks.”

“What?” Remy shot a glance at Law and then looked back at Hope. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” Hope sighed and leaned her head back against his chest, but didn’t seem too inclined to add anything else.

Shifting his gaze to Law, he waited.

“Afraid she’s pretty damn serious.” Law leaned his shoulder against the door frame. “The woman who was found here … apparently her cousin was in town today, talking to the sheriff and Deb was there.”

“Oh, hell.” Remy scowled. He could only imagine what kind of stories Deb had decided to tell the woman. Although he was confused on one front. Absently, he stroked a hand up Hope’s back, curled it over her neck and started to rub the tense muscles there. She made a
rough sound deep in her throat and cuddled closer. “She thinks the two of you killed her cousin and she decided to traipse out here to … what?”

“Confront us.” Law jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “She was pissed, she doesn’t lack for guts, and when she had this idea in her head that the sheriff was just ignoring evidence, she decided to see what she could see. But she figured out pretty quick that Deb isn’t exactly a reliable fount of information. End of story.”

Remy narrowed his eyes.
End of story?

No. He didn’t think so.

Something had Hope an absolute mess and it wasn’t just because some strange woman showed up on Law’s doorstep and accused them of being a twisted, modern-day version of Bonnie and Clyde. She’d gone through too much hell for something like that to push her to tears.

“And what else did she do?” Remy asked, cocking a brow at Law.

Law jerked a shoulder in a shrug. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

Hope stiffened in his arms and lifted her head. Something about the look on her face had Remy’s gut twisted into knots. And her eyes … they were dark. Angry. Scared.

“Nothing to worry about?” she echoed. She pushed away from Remy and faced her friend, her narrow shoulders rigid, her hands clenched into fists. “Excuse me, but there were two of us here, Law. Two of us, and it wasn’t just
you
she had the fucking gun pointed at.”