A Spy For a Spy Page 13

  You won’t destroy me that easily, Doytchevsky. You vicious little shit.

  I seized my phone again and punched Arnie’s number.

  No answer.

  Dammit, it was his cell phone. He always carried it. I hit redial.

  Again.

  After the third try, I realized he wouldn’t pick up. A razor-sharp wire of pain tightened around my heart.

  It couldn’t be too late. I couldn’t lose him like this.

  I pressed the button one last time and waited for his usual gruff voice prompt. “Helmand. Leave a message.”

  That impersonal tone gut-punched me. What if his laughter and teasing and friendship were gone from my life forever?

  Please don’t let it be too late…

  “Arnie…” My voice broke and I had to stop and try again. “Arnie, I…” Unwelcome logic reminded me that cell phone calls weren’t secure. “I can’t talk about it on the phone. I’ll be there in a couple of hours. If… if you’re going to be home. If…” I swallowed the stupid tears again. “If you’re still willing to listen…”

  Oh, shut the fuck up and stop being so damn pathetic. I punched disconnect, scrubbed my hands over my face, and slammed the truck into gear.

  I’d make him listen. Once I explained everything, it would be all right.

  He had to listen.

  He just had to.

  Chapter 18

  Standing in the lobby of Arnie’s condo building, I pressed the call button for his unit with a shaking finger.

  His familiar rasp rattled the tinny speaker. “What.”

  “It’s…” My voice was a dry whisper. I swallowed. “It’s Aydan.”

  My only response was the click when he hung up.

  The pain was so intense I stood frozen, my arms wrapped around my body. As if hugging myself could make it better.

  Stupid.

  I should have known. I shouldn’t have let myself count on him.

  They always hurt you.

  Always.

  I managed to move at last. Just as I was turning away, the door lock buzzed its release tone. I reflexively snatched the door open and slipped inside to stand trembling in the main lobby.

  Had he changed his mind? Or had another resident released the latch? If I knocked on his door, would he slam it in my face?

  I shook myself. Nothing to lose. If he threw me out, so be it. If he was mad enough to hit me…

  But he wouldn’t. Arnie would never do that, no matter how angry he was. I gulped at the memory of his scarred knuckles and prize-fighter’s face. If he did lose his temper…

  He wouldn’t. I knew he wouldn’t. And anyway, it didn’t matter.

  I turned my feet toward the stairs. Even if he beat me to a bloody pulp, it wouldn’t hurt as much as losing him because I was too cowardly to try.

  Outside his door, my hand didn’t seem to want to knock. I focused my will on it, but it hovered stubbornly a few inches from the panelling.

  Just knock on the damn door, for shit’s sake.

  My eyes welled up again. I was swiping at them in an attempt to preserve what little dignity I had left when the door flew open.

  I let out an involuntary squeak and threw up my arms to protect my face as Hellhound charged. The impact slammed a cry of pain out of me, his powerful arms grinding my bruised ribs while we staggered off-balance.

  In an instant, the pressure released and he steadied me. “Jesus Christ, Aydan, what the fuck? Are ya okay?”

  I opened my eyes to see his concerned face peering down at me. “I thought ya left. I was runnin’ to catch ya. Are ya okay?” he repeated.

  His gentle hands on my shoulders nearly undid me completely.

  “I…” The word choked out on a half-sob.

  Get it together.

  I pulled away, swallowing hard. A couple of slow deep breaths, grappling for control.

  “Aydan?” His fingertips touched my cheek as tenderly as his soft rasp caressed my ears. “Aw, darlin’, what happened?”

  I resisted the urge to throw myself into his arms and never let go. I wiped my eyes, holding my voice as steady as I could. “Can we talk?”

  “Yeah.” His voice rose to a shout. “Ya goddam dumbass furball!”

  I took no offense. Hiding my emotion behind a grin, I helped him corral the large, battle-scarred cat that had escaped his apartment to make a determined foray toward the stairs.

  “Hey, Hooker,” I murmured, cuddling my armload of long, tickly fur. “Who’s my big guy?” I scratched behind his torn and tufted ears, and his booming purr filled the hallway.

  I relinquished him to Hellhound, who roughly massaged the big cat’s scruff and muttered ‘dumb-ass furball’ with unmistakeable fondness. The furball in question slitted his eyes in bliss and pushed his scarred nose into Hellhound’s beard, his purr rumbling while we stepped into the apartment.

  As soon as the door closed behind us, Hellhound lowered the cat to the floor. When he straightened, I met his eyes. “Arnie, I didn’t do it. I didn’t file that complaint.”

  “What?” He scowled. “Kane saw it. He said it was your signature. Photos an’ everythin’.”

  “It wasn’t me. I’d never do that to him.” I clutched his sleeve. “Arnie, please tell me you didn’t really believe I’d do that!”

  His arms folded me in. “I didn’t wanna believe it, darlin’, but it sure as hell looked bad.”

  “Thanks for giving me the benefit of the doubt even when there wasn’t any doubt.” I gave him a squeeze and pulled away before I could get too comfortable in his arms. “Can you call John and tell him? If he even talks to me he’ll get court-martialled. And if Stemp finds out I’ve told anybody it’s fake, it’ll make things even worse.”

  Hellhound frowned and headed for his dilapidated chair, waving me in the direction of the sagging but still comfortable couch. “But he’s gonna wanna know what the hell’s goin’ on. Who filed the complaint if it wasn’t you? How’d they just happen to get pictures the one an’ only time he ever made a move on ya in public?”

  He reached down beside his chair, fingering the strings of the guitar propped beside it as if taking comfort from his beloved instrument.

  “An’ all this right after he asked ya if he should back off an’ ya said it was okay. An’ ya promised he wasn’t gonna end up on sexual harassment charges. An’ why the hell didn’t ya just tell Stemp it was bullshit and drop the whole thing?”

  He straightened, his brows drawing together. “Hell, never mind Kane, I fuckin’ wanna know. Christ, Aydan, this’s rippin’ my fuckin’ guts out.”

  “I’m sorry, Arnie! Stemp already knows it’s bullshit, he just won’t let me tell anybody. I told him Kane and I staged the kiss, and I think he believed me. The guy that faked the complaint was trying to blackmail me by saying he’d get John in trouble for making a move on me on the job, but…” My stomach wrung itself in a corrosive mixture of rage and remorse. “I guess he decided to go for the gold with a sexual harassment complaint instead. Prove he was serious.”

  Hellhound jerked forward. “Aydan, who’s blackmailin’ ya? An’ why?”

  I sighed. “It’s complicated. I, um… had a kind of a… promotion at Sirius Dynamics and I was in Vegas on… um… business.”

  He settled slowly back in his chair, his shrewd gaze searching my face. “Stemp finally brained up. Ya ain’t an asset anymore, you’re an agent. Ya had a mission, an’ it went bad,” he translated.

  I shot him a half-serious glare. “Stop doing that. Go be a dumb biker.”

  He grinned. “Sure, darlin’.” His smile drained away. “So what kinda shit are ya in? How deep?”

  “Not as deep as it could be.” I sighed. “My business in Vegas actually went okay. It was done by the time John got there. I knew I’d picked up a tail earlier, but I thought…”

  I pounded my forehead with the heel of my hand. “No, I didn’t fucking think at all, goddammit. Moron! It never even occurred to me the bastard would still be follo
wing me, and I should have known better. I tried to tell John to cool it, but he wouldn’t listen…”

  “So what’s this asshole got on ya?” Hellhound eyed me levelly. “Ya got your hand in a cookie jar somewhere?”

  “No! He’s got nothing on me. He just wants information and he was trying to use those photos as leverage to make me tell him.”

  He relaxed. “An’ ya didn’t play ball.”

  “No. I tried to bluff, and I lost.” I gulped. “John lost. There aren’t any consequences for me.” I buried my face in my hands. “I really fucking hate this stupid life.”

  The couch dipped and Hellhound’s arm tightened around my shoulders. “It’s okay, darlin’, it ain’t your fault.”

  I collapsed against him. “It is my fault. I should have thought. I should have warned John about the tail and I didn’t, and now he’s going to lose everything over one lousy kiss…”

  “Well, shit, if he’s that bad a kisser, maybe I should talk to him. Give him some pointers.”

  I straightened out of my slump to see his grin. I wedged an elbow into his ribs. “You know what I meant. And anyway, keep your secrets to yourself. If all the men in the world could kiss like you, women would be doomed.”

  “Aw, thanks, darlin’.”

  Our eyes met, and the memory of his kisses sent a wave of primal need coursing through me. God, how I missed his easy presence in my bed. His teasing mouth, his adept hands, his musician’s unerring feel for rhythm and tempo. That slow smile with his eyes half-closed, just before his skillful touch toppled me into glorious free-fall. The wonderful safety of knowing he wanted nothing more from me than a few hours of mutual pleasure…

  I realized I was tilting toward him, lips parting.

  I jerked upright. “Sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” He rose, not meeting my eyes. “I’m gonna call Kane.”

  “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “I have to go. I can’t be here when you call.”

  Hellhound shrugged, his gesture encompassing the small apartment. “Who’s gonna know?”

  “Anybody who’s tracking my cell phone.”

  He stiffened, his gaze darting to the beaten-up behemoth of a coffee table. “Do I need my gun?”

  “No, it’s okay.” At his dubious expression, I clarified. “I just meant it would be bad if anybody could prove I was here while you were talking to John. I’m going to leave. Give me twenty minutes before you call him. I have to call Nichele anyway, so I’ll do that from somewhere far away from here, at the same time you’re talking to John. Just in case.”

  “Okay…” He moved closer to take my hand. “Aydan, we promised each other no lies. Are ya really tellin’ me the truth?”

  I clasped my other hand over his. “No lies. I promise. Everything I told you is the truth.”

  “An’ what didn’t ya tell me?”

  I squeezed his hand, willing him to understand. “I told you as much as I can without putting you in danger.”

  “An’ how much danger are ya in yourself?”

  “None that I know of.”

  He disengaged my grip to slide his hands up my arms. “Then why’re ya shakin’?”

  “I…” I gulped down rising tears along with the urge to blurt out an admission of the nightmares and flashbacks. To beg him to sleep with me just so I could take comfort from his closeness.

  I held my voice level. “I’m just bagged and I need to eat.”

  “Shit, Aydan, it’s damn near eight o’clock an’ ya didn’t eat yet?” He eyed me with concern. “I got some leftover Chinese food in the fridge…”

  “No, it’s okay. I really need to go so you can call John.”

  “Come right back. I’ll call ya as soon as I’m done.”

  I considered, my thoughts stumbling over each other in calorie-deprived exhaustion. “Okay. That’ll work. My last cell phone call was to you, so it’ll look like you’re returning my call. See you later. Remember, wait twenty minutes before you call him.”

  I turned to go.

  “Hey.”

  When I turned, he folded me into a gentle hug, his muscular bulk making me feel small and protected. “Drive safe, darlin’. Make sure ya get somethin’ to eat.” His lips brushed my forehead.

  “Thanks,” I choked, and stumbled out before I could cling to him.

  When I emerged from the building, snow was beginning to sift down and the breeze had turned into a biting north wind. I bolted for the truck and hunched shivering in the driver’s seat, cursing until the first puffs of welcome heat wafted into the cab.

  East of downtown, I pulled into the first fast-food restaurant I found and wolfed down a burger and fries whose flavour was virtually indistinguishable from the packaging. Spitting out a fragment of paper, I reminded myself to slow down and pay attention to what I was eating, and then promptly ignored my own advice while my mind shuttled from one problem to the next.

  What if Stemp found out I’d told Hellhound the sexual harassment charge was fake?

  Worse, what if Doytchevsky found out? What if he was following me even now?

  I stopped my feeding frenzy long enough to shoot a worried glance out the window. I had taken a seat with my back to the wall, near an exit as usual, but I was far too visible in the brightly-lit restaurant.

  I shrugged and let it go. Whatever. So he follows me and sees me visiting Hellhound. I was pretty sure everybody thought we were sleeping together anyway, so no problem.

  But Kane. My stomach clenched around the greasy food. What a horrible betrayal. How could he forgive me for the damage to his career, his life?

  He couldn’t. I wouldn’t expect him to. It was more than anyone could expect.

  But there had to be a way to fix it. Somehow, I had to find a way.

  And what about Dave? God, please let him be all right.

  The snow was beginning to accumulate, brightening the slick, dark pavement. What if he had driven off a mountain road, was even now lying injured and alone in the icy wreckage?

  Dammit, no, that wouldn’t happen. He drove an eighteen-wheeler, for chrissake. It wasn’t like people would fail to notice a wrecked semi. And the police would have known about something like that right away. He was probably fine…

  I gulped the last of my drink and pulled out my phone. Nichele would be frantic.

  When she answered, her voice sounded strained and exhausted. “Hi, Aydan.”

  “Hi, Nichele, I’m back in Calgary and I’m just on my way over to Arnie’s place. Did you get some rest?”

  “I couldn’t. But don’t worry, Aydan, I don’t expect you to go out when the weather’s like this. Go over and see if you can patch things up with Arnie, and we’ll talk in the morning.”

  I held the phone away from my ear to frown at it. That was a hell of an about-face.

  “Are you sure, Nichele? Are you okay?”

  “Yeah... But it’s dark and the roads are really bad…” Her voice wavered as if on the verge of tears. “…and I don’t want you to take a chance driving tonight. I’ll call you in the morning. Maybe by then I’ll have good news.”

  “Okay, if you’re sure…” Relief battled guilt. “I’ll come over to your place as soon as I’m done talking to Arnie.”

  “Oh…” When she spoke again a few moments later, it was in her usual bantering tone. “Girl, if you show up on my doorstep tonight, I won’t even let you in. You get your ass over to Hellhound’s and into his bed, or else!”

  I laughed. “Thanks for the pep talk. Try to get some sleep, okay?”

  “Try to get some hot sex, okay? Bye-bye!”

  I hit disconnect and stared at the phone. What the hell was she up to?

  The phone’s vibration made me start, and I hurriedly punched the answer button.

  Hellhound’s welcome rasp soothed my ear. “Hey, darlin’, come on over.”

  I bit my tongue to keep from asking about Kane. Damn cell phones. “I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes,” I said inste
ad.

  “Hang on, did ya get somethin’ to eat?”

  “Yes.” I eyed the grease-smeared paper wrappings with distaste. “’Something’ is about the only way to describe it. I’m on my way.”

  Chapter 19

  By the time I parked in the visitor’s slot at Hellhound’s condo, I was thankful all over again for Nichele’s unusual attack of good sense. The roads weren’t exactly bad, but they were definitely getting slippery. Even with the two hundred pounds of sandbags I always left in the truck box for winter traction, the rear end was developing an uncomfortable tendency to slide when I braked.

  Shivering inside the front doors, I pressed Hellhound’s call button with a gush of relief. Thank God he had believed me. Thank God I didn’t have to dread his reply this time.

  When the lock released, I hurried up the stairs. By the time I gained the third floor, he was waiting in his doorway with Hooker tucked under one arm. The big cat squirmed and fixed me with an expectant yellow gaze, apparently hoping I’d provide sufficient distraction for another escape attempt.

  “Nice try, buddy,” I said, and gave him a chin-scratch as Hellhound stepped aside to let me in.

  “Where’s mine?” Hellhound asked plaintively, raising his chin.

  “Right, I can’t neglect the big pussycat.” I slid my fingers into his beard and rubbed his chin while he rumbled raspy satisfaction. “You’re two of a kind.”

  “Yeah, we both look like we been chasin’ parked cars,” he quipped as he locked the door behind me. He released Hooker and made for the kitchen. “Ya want a beer?”

  “Oh, hell yeah.” I slid off my boots and dropped my coat on top of the half-wall that served as his impromptu coat closet. Padding over to his couch, I sank into my favourite corner and pulled one of his hand-crocheted afghans around me.

  “Ya want a coffee or somethin’ instead?” Hellhound appeared around the corner and gestured with the frosty bottles. “This ain’t exactly gonna warm ya up.”

  “I don’t care.” I reached for a bottle. “You have no idea how much I need this right now… shit.”

  “What?”

  “I better not. The roads are getting bad, and-”