Overnight Male (11 page)

J
OEL HAD JUST FILLED
his third flash drive with the contents of Chuck Miller’s hard drive—the last computer he had to search tonight—when he heard voices outside in the hall. He recognized Lila’s first, then Miller’s, then those of two additional males he couldn’t place. The subject of the conversation, however—such as it was—was crystal clear. Chuck was trying to lure Jenny/Lila to his room, the two guys with him were egging him on and Lila was doing a reasonably convincing job of an inebriated young coed who couldn’t quite make up her mind whether or not she wanted to accompany them.

A quick glance around the room revealed nowhere to hide. It was decorated in Traditional Frat Guy, with only the bare necessities. The closet door was open, revealing enough clothes and crap to prevent its being closed again without a backhoe coming in first, so that was out. The bed was a mattress atop box springs on the floor, so there would be no scuttling under there.

He had just scrambled over the windowsill to crouch on a section of roof that was barely big enough—and sturdy enough—to hold him when the bedroom door flew open with enough force to send it banging into the wall behind it. The crash was punctuated by raucous male laughter and a girlie-sounding squeal. Joel braved a quick look into the room to see a convincingly tipsy-looking Lila and a genuinely drunken Chuck stumbling into the room. Immediately behind them were two men Joel didn’t recall seeing earlier, also visibly inebriated. They had the markings of varsity athletes—probably football, judging by the size and weight of them.

Huge
and
smart, Joel thought. And drunk. Not a great combination. And Chuck was by no means petite or stupid himself. Never had Lila looked tinier than she did in that moment, surrounded by those three men. And never had Joel seen three men look more lecherous or rapacious. Ducking back down so he wouldn’t be seen, Joel sent a silent plea to Lila that he hoped like hell she knew what she was doing.

“I really, really, really, really, really shouldn’t be in your room, Chuck,” he heard her slur drunkenly. “I’m totally, totally, totally, totally, totally not that kind of girl.” Then she giggled in a way that completely negated the statement.

“Aw, come on, Jenny,” Chuck cajoled. “The party downstairs is too loud. Dylan and Corey and I just figured it’d be easier for the three of us to talk up here.”

Oh, sure, Joel thought. ’Cause everyone knew that frat guys threw parties only so they’d have an opportunity to discuss the finer points of Plato’s
Republic
and the mysteries of black holes.

“I’m glad you got rid of your dick boyfriend,” he heard Chuck say, his voice softer now.

“He is so lame,” Lila concurred. “And he treats me like crap.”

“I know a way you can get even with him,” Chuck told her.

“Oh, yeah?” Lila asked with what sounded like heartfelt interest. “You gonna let me in on it?”

“Oh, yeah, baby,” he told her. “You bet.”

All Joel heard after that was the two guys who weren’t Chuck laughing in a way that told him too well what was going on. And although he didn’t need his mental picture of Chuck kissing Lila to be made any more vivid, it was made so anyway when he heard her say after another moment, in a veritable purr, “I like that revenge. But I think you and I need to be alone when we get it.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Jenny,” Chuck cooed. “You won’t even know Dylan and Corey are here. They just wanna watch.”

To her credit, Lila didn’t sound in any way worried or surprised when she replied, “But I’d rather it just be the two of us, sweetie. Let these guys get their own.”

“Oh, they will, baby. As soon as I’ve had mine.”

That remark was punctuated by more male laughter, along with a sound that made Joel’s flesh crawl—the sound of fabric tearing.

He spent all of a nanosecond thinking about his response. Going back in through the window would let Chuck know that Joel had been in the room beforehand, and he still needed to protect the investigation as well as he could. So he scooted to the edge of the roofline and used the gutter to swing himself down into the backyard. He hit the ground running and headed straight for the back door, shoving aside anyone who got in his way. He had to shove harder once he got inside, then took the stairs two or three at a time until he reached the second floor. By the time he reached Chuck’s door, adrenaline—or something—was surging through him so forcefully that he kicked it in with enough force to pull the door off its hinges and the hinges off the jamb.

All three men looked over their shoulders at his arrival, since they’d all been looking at Lila when he entered.
Down
at Lila. Lila, who was bucking against the four big hands that were holding her on the bed, two on one side, two on the other, one at each elbow and over each thigh. Chuck’s hands were busy, too, tugging down the zipper of Lila’s pants, having already unfastened her belt and having dropped his own pants and boxers down around his ankles. The tearing Joel had heard had been Lila’s shirt, which was rent halfway down the middle and gaping open over her breasts enough to nearly reveal them.

For a single, angry moment no one moved except Lila, who continued to flail her entire body upward with enough force to make the two guys holding her grunt with their effort to keep her down. And in that moment Joel thought of at least a dozen ways to kill all three men. For now, he only doubled both hands into fists and dropped his gaze to Chuck’s groin.

And then he said, “Wow, I never would have guessed such a big asshole would have such a little dick.” Then, looking at Lila, who had ceased her struggle when she heard his voice, he added, “Though it explains a lot, doesn’t it?”

Something crossed her face then, something that was a mix of relief, laughter and still-simmering fury. But she said, “Why do you think I’m fighting so hard? A shriveled little thing like that? Why waste my time?” Amazingly, she grinned at him before adding, “I’m used to having something
a lot
more substantial.”

God help him, Joel actually felt himself stir at her words. Not that he’d call himself
a lot
more substantial, but…

He considered Chuck again. Okay, yeah, he would call himself
a lot
more substantial.

Chuck’s shriveled little thing shrank even more at Lila’s words, but his face reddened with his anger. “Nobody invited you to this party, you dick. So beat it.”

Joel shook his head derisively. “Oh, I think you’re going to be the one who’s beating it tonight, Chuck. Provided there’s anything left of it when she’s finished with you. Which is doubtful. Something that tiny and all.”

And with that, and no further warning, Joel went in swinging. The two guys holding Lila immediately released her so they could fight back, and once she was up, all hell broke loose in the room. When it was finished, Big Guy One was out the window on the roof where Joel had been crouching only moments ago, covered with shattered glass, his lip split open and at least two teeth gone. Big Guy Two was sprawled half on and half off what was left of Chuck’s dresser, his nose bleeding and his arm at a funny enough angle that he wouldn’t be throwing any balls anytime soon. And speaking of balls, Joel was reasonably sure Big Guy Two would never have full use of his again. And Chuck…

Well, Lila had seen to Chuck herself once she’d dispatched Big Guy One through the window. After ensuring that Chuck’s ear, nose and throat doctor would have plenty to keep him busy, she shoved him out of the room—leaving his pants and boxers behind—and half shoved, half carried him down the stairs, dumping him into the middle of the party with his shriveled little thing on display for everyone. Everyone who promptly voiced their surprise that Chuck had such a shriveled little thing.

Then Lila zipped up her jacket over her torn shirt and said a few more things to Chuck that he—and anyone else within hearing distance—would never forget. And then she and Joel left the party.

Neither said a word as they strode back to the car. Joel’s body was still reacting to what had happened. His skin was hot, his head was pounding, his chest was heaving and his ears were filled with the sound of rushing wind. His legs were weak and his arms hurt like hell, and he couldn’t seem to stop shaking. Never in his life had he been reduced to physical violence. He’d just never experienced anything, even as a kid, that made him want to lash out. But he hadn’t even hesitated back there. Hadn’t questioned his reaction at all. He’d been motivated by one thing, and one thing alone.

How Lila had looked when he’d burst into that room.

If he lived to be 180, Joel would never, ever forget the image of her held down and struggling against two men twice her size. And every time the scene replayed in his head, he would feel all over again his rage, his terror and his calm but absolute certainty that he would tear all three men apart and feel not one iota of remorse for doing it.

It wasn’t an easy realization to arrive at, how quickly and easily and completely the veneer of civilization could be stripped away to expose the Neanderthal lurking beneath. But that was precisely what had happened back there. Joel had abandoned quite willingly all polite behavior he’d ever learned, and he’d reverted to the most primitive version of humankind that had ever existed. What was most revealing, though, was that he knew he’d do it all over in a heartbeat. If anyone ever,
ever
threatened Lila again.

They strode side by side in silence until they were safely inside the car. Then Lila turned to face Joel and said, “Evidently, whoever gave you my dossier neglected to include some very important information.”

He started the car and pulled away from the curb before asking, “What’s that?”

Her voice was steely cold as she said, “No one rescues me. Ever. I take care of myself. Always.”

Joel kept his attention on the road, but replied, “Looked to me like you were having a little trouble with that this time.”

“Then you weren’t watching very closely,” she said evenly. “Didn’t it occur to you that I had a plan? Did you think I was so stupid that I would have allowed myself to be led to Chuck’s room with two other guys without knowing how I would get back out again?”

He expelled a long, disgruntled breath. Finally he admitted, “I guess I didn’t really think at all.”

“No, I guess you didn’t,” she said tersely. “But I did. I thought it through a lot, and I knew exactly what I was doing. I would have been fine. I’ve been outnumbered by way more dangerous guys than those losers, and I kicked their ass.”

Now Joel did spare her a glance, long enough to see how angry she was. Her body was rigid with it, her features stark, her eyes cold.

He returned his gaze to the road and tried to inject a carelessness into his voice that he was nowhere close to feeling. “Lila, what’s the big deal? You looked like you were in trouble, and I was in a position to help you out. So I did. We got what we came for, and we didn’t compromise the investigation.”

“Only because those guys were too drunk to be suspicious,” she pointed out.

Joel said nothing. She was right. He turned again to look at her, but only long enough to see that she was still glaring at him.

“No one rescues me,” she repeated emphatically. “I’m not some damsel in distress who needs to be taken care of. I take care of myself.”

Quietly he said, “You know, I think you’re bothered more by the fact that I helped you out back there than you are by the possibility that the investigation could have been compromised.”

“Yeah. So?”

“You act like being in a position of needing help is the most heinous crime a person can commit.”

“And your point is?”

He expelled a soft sound. Right. He should already have realized she’d feel that way. A little more gently this time, he said, “It’s not a crime, Lila. Everybody gets in a jam at some point. Everybody needs a little help sometimes.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. And people who need people are the luckiest people in the world,” she muttered. “I get that.
Other
people,” she then clarified. “Not me. I don’t need help. I don’t need anybody.”

Meaning him, Joel translated. Not that she hadn’t already made that clear dozens of times.

They made the remainder of the drive to the apartment in silence. But by the time they arrived, Joel had managed to get a handle on his reaction, and Lila’s anger seemed to have cooled. She went straight to the bathroom and turned on the shower, so, as a peace offering, he brewed her a cup of decaf green tea and had it waiting for her when she emerged. Although he pretended to be more engrossed in a file and the brandy he’d poured for himself, he instead watched Lila closely from beneath his lowered lids, trying to detect any sign that she wasn’t, as she insisted, fine.

She’d changed into the sort of clothes she always slept in, a pair of baggy drawstring pajama bottoms—these patterned with wide vertical stripes in varying shades of green—and a dark green cotton T-shirt that stopped just short of meeting the drawstring. She hesitated outside the bathroom door at first, seeming uncertain which way she wanted to go, then turned toward the living room. Then she turned toward her bedroom. Then the living room. Then the bedroom again. Finally she made her way toward Joel, padding barefoot into the room. She still seemed a little edgy, though whether it lingered from the altercation with Chuck or her anger at Joel, he couldn’t have said. When she noticed the cup of tea, however, her face softened and her body relaxed. Her hand was steady as she reached for it, he saw, and her smile seemed genuinely unbothered.

Evidently she was indeed fine, and doubtless would have been, even without him. Joel told himself he should be reassured by that. Instead, he felt kind of defeated.

“Thank you,” she said softly before enjoying a sip.

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

To his surprise, when she sat down she didn’t fold herself into the chair, but onto the sofa beside him, near enough for him to touch her if he wanted to. Which, of course, he did. Which, of course, he wouldn’t. But she
was
near enough for him to touch if he wanted to. For a moment they only sat in more silence, Lila sipping her tea, Joel watching her—but openly this time. She didn’t seem to mind his attention, however, any more than she seemed to mind the silence. He didn’t mind the silence either, and wasn’t sure what to say anyway that hadn’t already been said.