A Perfect Storm

Feeling a little traitorous, Spencer crossed the restaurant floor. He’d only promised not to tell Jackson, he reminded himself.

He hadn’t said a thing about Trace.

When he reached the table, Trace set aside his napkin and glanced up. “There a reason you stood there studying me before coming in?”

Since he hadn’t been going for stealth, Spencer didn’t mind the direct question. He shook his head and slid into the booth. “Not really. Just wondering about something. I know Jackson renamed Arizona. And I know that Alani’s last name is different from yours, even though you’re siblings. So was she renamed, too?”

“No.”

Which meant Miller was an alias.

Figures. With a nod, because he really didn’t care, Spencer said, “I have a problem.”

With a half smile, Trace asked, “Is her name Arizona?”

Not funny. Or rather, it would be funny if it didn’t involve him. “Bingo.”

“What’d she do now?” Trace sat back in the booth. “And why aren’t you going to Jackson? She’s like a sister to him.”

Was she? He knew Jackson felt that way—but Arizona? Sometimes he wondered. They had a very complicated relationship, but Spencer said only, “Arizona made me promise I wouldn’t tell Jackson.”

“Ah. Didn’t mention keeping it from me or Dare, huh?”

“No. I guess she didn’t think you two were an option.” Dare was the third element in the team. The day Spencer had met them all, Dare had been on surveillance—meaning crouched on a hillside with high-powered rifles ready to pick off anyone planning an ambush. “I doubt Arizona even realizes we’ve stayed in touch since that cluster-fuck happened.”

He shrugged. “It went as planned.”

“She was in the middle of it all.” It still made Spencer furious to think about it. Arizona had used herself to lure in the human traffickers. But she hadn’t realized they were the same people she’d previously escaped—the same people who had once tossed her, bound and abused, over the side of a bridge and into a churning river to kill her.

If Jackson hadn’t come upon them that night, if he hadn’t been skilled enough and fast enough, Arizona would have drowned.

Sadly, few would have noticed her passing. Even fewer would have cared.

Spencer’s guts cramped. So far in her young life, Arizona had been dealt a miserable hand. And still she was so…spirited.

“Since they wanted her dead, I’d say you were right.” Trace studied him. “You seeing her much?”

“Not really.” He didn’t want to betray Arizona’s trust, so he couldn’t explain that he’d been trying to avoid her—and forget her—only to find her sitting in his bedroom, watching him sleep. “She stopped by.”

Trace’s expression didn’t change. “To engage you in one of her stunts?”

Now he felt defensive on her behalf. “What she doesn’t have in size and strength, she makes up for with brains and bravery.”

“Bravery?” Eyebrow raised, Trace reached for his Coke. “I’d call it recklessness.”

“Maybe.” He didn’t want to argue the point. “It bothers me that she doesn’t show enough caution, and she puts no value on her own hide.”

“I know.” Almost as a warning, Trace said, “Whoever hooks up with the girl better have a lot of fortitude, because I don’t see her easing off anytime soon.”

Yeah…he didn’t want to think about Arizona with anyone else. And the way she’d reacted to the idea of a kiss, he knew she still had a lot of hurt to overcome. People now cared for her, but she trusted only the ugly side of life.

Because that was all she knew.

With the Coke gone, Trace got serious. “I thought Jackson had her busy doing computer work.”

Not busy enough, obviously. “She does that—and then some.”

On a sigh, Trace asked, “So what’s she into now?”

Spencer explained about the bar and grill, and Arizona’s suspicions. “She told me she’s been there a few times already and she’s been noticed.”

“That girl would get noticed anywhere.”

An irrefutable fact. He’d never seen a woman as breathtakingly gorgeous as Arizona. “So at this point, for the sake of her safety, I have to assume there are some shady deals going on. Which means someone might have already followed her.”

“They could know where she lives, the places she frequents. She could get grabbed right off the street.” Trace gave him a long look. “Unfortunately, it happens all the time.”

Which was why he wanted to protect her. “I have no choice but to get involved.”

“No choice at all.” Trace considered things. “Give me the name of the place and the location.”

“The Green Goose, in downtown Middleville.”

Expression arrested, Trace said, “Shit.”

“What? You’re aware of something going on in there?”

It took him a second, and then Trace laughed. “She’s got great instincts, I’ll give her that.”

It hit Spencer like a ton of bricks. “She’s right about the place, isn’t she?”

“Afraid so. Luckily for your peace of mind, we were already on it. Early stages, though. Dare was running background checks on the owners, and I was planning a visit so I could scope out things from within.”

“Arizona’s already done that.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, but Trace had to know it all. “She says she sat at a table, and when a kid came to take her order, she noticed some bruises, what looked like a broken finger that hadn’t been set right, and the boy wouldn’t look her in the eyes. Probably not more than sixteen, though of course his age would be fudged.”

Anger gathered in Trace’s expression, but he sounded calm enough when he said, “I wish we’d moved on this sooner, damn it.”

But they couldn’t be everywhere at once, and cruelty existed far and wide, all the time. “When the boy brought her food, Arizona asked if it was a good place to work. She told him she was looking for a job.”

“The boy’s reaction?”

“He couldn’t or wouldn’t tell her what they made per hour.”

Grim, Trace said, “Because he’s not getting paid.”

“That’s Arizona’s assumption. Around a lot of stammering and nervousness, the boy pointed out the man to talk to if she wanted to work there. Arizona said he’s a tall, skinny guy, mid-forties, thinning brown hair, brown eyes, goatee, earring, some sort of colorful tribal tattoo on his left arm. From what she could find out, he’s the owner of the place.”

“Terry Janes.” Trace crossed his arms. “Did some time when he was younger for peddling drugs, been in more trouble a handful of times for robbery, breaking and entering, suspected rape. He had a charge for beating a guy half to death, but that fell through the cracks. No way is he the owner.”

God, it sounded worse than Spencer had suspected. “Later that night, Arizona kept watch on the place and only a few of the employees left. Janes, his bartender, his bouncer—just key people, I guess. He locked the door behind him. It’s a shitty part of town, so bars on the windows make sense, but in this case—”

“They’re there to keep the workers in.” After a moment of thought, Trace leaned forward, arms resting on the table. “Please tell me that Arizona hasn’t talked to him.”

That was the only good news in the whole screwed scenario. “She says not, but she told the boy she’d be back tomorrow night—and she’s pretty sure the guy overheard it all.”

“Which was probably intentional on her part?”

“I assume so.”

Trace shook his head. “So now they’ll be watching for her.”

“You met Arizona. That’s her plan.” Disgust rolled through him; he hated her plan. “She wants them to know, to make a move, so she can expose them.”

“At least she had the good sense to come to you for backup.” Trace pulled out his cell phone. “Where’s Arizona now?”

“At this precise moment? No idea.” And that was a problem, because it would take Arizona no more than a minute to get in over her head. When he couldn’t see her, he worried about what she was doing, if she was safe.

He wondered if she thought about him even half as much as he thought about her.

It’d be nice to claim that altruistic motives drove him. But that wouldn’t be the whole truth, and he knew it.

He glanced at his wristwatch. “She’s coming by my place in a few hours so we can coordinate plans for tomorrow.”

“Coordinating plans was the best you could come up with?”

Spencer shrugged. That had been the only excuse he could think of to gain himself time enough to talk to Trace—and to get a cake for her birthday.

Trace said, “Whatever you call it, get her to stay overnight with you, and keep her under wraps until she heads to the Green Goose.”

No and no again. “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” And not touch her?

“I don’t know. Find a way. Tell her you need to go over the rules with her.”

Or just go over her. Spencer shook his head. “You think that’ll take the whole night?”

“Guess that depends on how you drag it out, doesn’t it?”

Spencer didn’t miss the suggestion. But Trace had to be kidding. With a hand to the back of his neck, Spencer tried to rub away the growing tension. “The thing is, Arizona’s…skittish.”

What an understatement. Arizona was all brass and bravado, until someone showed intimate interest. Then her survival reaction of fight, flight or freeze kicked in.

So far, with him, she always chose to fight.

And every time it happened, the vise on his heart squeezed a little tighter. He had a plan to help her with that. A masochistic plan that was sure to make him nuts, but for Arizona…

“She knows you want her.”

“No.” Damn it, he’d said that too fast and sounded far too defensive.

Trace just looked at him.

“I’m too old for her.” God, just shut up, Spencer.

“Given what she’s been through and the way she lives, I’d say you’re just what she needs.”

Not a topic he’d discuss with Trace or anyone else.

As if he realized that himself, Trace didn’t wait for confirmation. “Get her to your place, and I’ll find a way to disable her car. It’s as good an excuse as any for her to stay the night. Keeping her with you will give you more control until we shut down the joint.”

The enormity of coercing Arizona to do anything was overshadowed by Spencer’s surprise. “Shut it down?” Could it really be that easy to remove Arizona from danger—this time? “Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that.” Being enigmatic, Trace added, “We were on this anyway.”

We, meaning Trace, Dare and Jackson? He didn’t ask. He knew Trace wouldn’t tell him. “Glad to hear it.”

“Now, with Arizona ready to dive in… It could still take some time, but I’ll do my best to accelerate things.”

“I hope so, because if you know Arizona at all, you know I’m not going to be able to get her to pull back.” Hell, he’d be lucky if he could get her to stop swinging for his head. “As for her staying with me…dicking with her car might work once, but after that? She won’t like the idea of anyone protecting her.”

Trace looked down at the table. “I understand her. After what she’s been through, she hurts, physically and emotionally, thinking about anyone caught in that situation.”

“She knows how it is,” Spencer agreed softly. “She understands that unique misery only too well.” And for Arizona, the only escape from her memories would be to validate her current well-being by helping others. Otherwise, she’d feel like she had no justice at all.

They shared a somber moment, then Trace flipped open his phone and pressed a button. “Let me make this call, and then I’ll tell you what we’re going to do.”

CHAPTER THREE

BRIGHT SUNSHINE SHONE in Arizona’s eyes as she waited in her car for Spencer to return. Even adjusting the visor didn’t help. Heat built—inside the car, inside her mind.

Growing bored, then quickly drowsy, she leaned her head back, closed her eyes against the glare…and drifted away to the day of that awful confrontation.

Spencer’s voice sounded with conviction…and with caring. “Whatever Chandra did to you, she’ll pay.”

But Arizona knew that couldn’t be true. Even thinking Chandra had died wasn’t payment enough. And now, people she cared about, people she loved, were at risk.

Because of her.

Red-hot hatred, bone-deep fear, churned inside her.

It wasn’t easy, but she pretended indifference to the situation. Not that she ever could be. Not faced with her tormentor—the one who’d orchestrated so much hurt and unthinkable disgrace, here in the flesh.

All this time, she’d thought Chandra dead, well out of reach of revenge.

And unable to cause more pain.

Yet there she stood. Smiling. Sick as always. Unfortunately, this time, Arizona wasn’t her only target. Now Chandra planned to hurt others—Jackson, his girlfriend, Alani.

Spencer.

No, not Spencer. He’d skipped out seconds before the situation escalated. To where?

Who cared? She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

Bravado would have to get her through. Summoning a snide smile to hide the hurt, Arizona sneered, “Usually dead women can’t talk. And you are dead—whether you realize it yet or not.”

A maniacal laugh. Chandra’s awful, bone-chilling enjoyment of pain.

It left her pale, cold. Determined. Arizona didn’t back down. “It’s between us. Leave the others out of it.” Let me have my revenge. Please.

Chandra disregarded the warning, saying, “If she speaks again, shoot her.”

And they would. Chandra’s bully boys would enjoy putting a bullet in her.

What to do? Stand back, as Jackson asked? She owed him so much, but…she couldn’t. If she stayed safe, she couldn’t strike out. And she wanted to. She desperately needed to.

So what if her hands were shaking?

So what if her heart thundered and her eyes burned and the urge to flee beat hard and fast in her chest? Never would she run away.

This was her hell.

She had the right to end it.

Determined, determined…but then everything happened at once. Multiple shots, chaos…

Spencer! He hadn’t left. Not yet.

Expression fierce and jaw rock-hard, Spencer started toward her.

He’d stolen her revenge.

He hadn’t left her.

Anger and relief built in combustible force, so confusing, so powerful—

“Yoo-hoo.”

Jolted from the dark memory, Arizona bolted upright in her seat. Without thinking about it, she automatically reached for her knife and looked around at the same time.

Standing there by the passenger door, bending to look in the window, was Spencer’s busty neighbor. She showed off a bright smile, a lot of cleavage and cunning resolve.

Perfect. Just what she deserved.

Still caught up in reliving the awful scenario that had stolen her purpose for being, Arizona breathed too hard, too fast. Sweat had gathered along her spine. Her palms felt damp.

Slowly, hoping the neighbor wouldn’t notice, she drew her hand away from the knife hidden at the small of her back, then shoved her hair from her face.

Where the hell was Spencer? She’d pulled up twenty minutes ago but hadn’t seen his truck. While trying to decide whether to hang around or to bolt, she’d taken an unplanned trip down memory lane.

So lame.

Surreptitiously she swiped a forearm over her brow and put up the car windows.

Never one to miss an opportunity, Arizona undid her seat belt and left her black Focus. “Yoo-hoo, yourself.” Even saying it with sarcasm, she felt like an ass. But at least the intrusion had brought her back to the here and now. “You know where Spencer is?”

“He went out,” Blondie said helpfully.

“No kidding?” Arizona circled the hood, leaned against the fender and crossed her arms. “You don’t miss much, do you?”

Blondie’s smile slipped, making her almost feel mean.

“Sorry. I’ve had a rough day.” She held out her hand. “Arizona.”

“What?”

Well used to that reaction, she shrugged. “My name. It’s Arizona.”

“Oh.” Wary, keeping the contact as brief as possible, the neighbor-lady shook her hand in a limp, barely there greeting. “Marla.”

“Nice to meet you, Marla.” Spencer had asked her to come back at six, and she was twenty minutes early, but so what? She couldn’t break in again, not with the ever-alert Marla keeping tabs on things. Anything that happened now was Spencer’s fault. “So, that stuff this morning… You and Spence got something going on, huh?”

Marla found her backbone. “Yes.”

That was it? Arizona pursed her mouth and waited. Blondie would crack, no doubt about it.

Annnnnddd…she did.

“We’ve, ah, been seeing each other for a while now.”

Seeing each other meant what? In the sack, or had Spencer taken her out on a date? Dancing, dinner, movies… Arizona really had no understanding of the concept. Never in her life had she been out on a legitimate “date.”

This could be a great learning experience. She’d uncover details about Spencer that a cold file filled with facts couldn’t give, and maybe get a better, more personal grasp of the whole relationship ritual.

“No kidding? How long is a while?”

Marla’s bravery faltered. “Long enough.”

Meaning…they were an item? “Well of course you have. Look at you.” She gestured at Marla’s boobs. “No guy would pass that up, right?”

That must’ve been the wrong thing to say, because Marla backed up two steps. “You looked lost in thought when I walked out.”

Lost being the operative word. But not anymore. Never again. “Just waiting on Spence.”

“Why?”

For some insane reason, maybe deeply rooted female vindictiveness, Arizona enjoyed telling her, “He wanted me to join him for dinner.”

Putting her plump shoulders back, Marla tried for a level, nasty stare. “You’re wasting your time.”

A direct attack? Bravo, Marla. Grinning, Arizona said, “Well, look at you feeling all ballsy and possessive and stuff.”

That got her a double take and more wariness. “I mean it.” Marla visually worked up her courage. “Spencer and I might not be…committed—”

“Still up in the air, huh?”

“But we have an understanding.”

What did that mean? An understanding about what? “Enlighten me, why doncha?”

“You can’t have him.”

No misunderstanding that. “Didn’t say I wanted him.” Arizona pushed away from the car, and Blondie took another quick step back. “At least, not for what you’re talking about.”

“No?”

“Definitely no. You want to screw him?” Her throat tightened, but she got the words out. “Have at it. More power to you.”

Marla soaked in the words, analyzed them, and gave a slow smile.

Arizona didn’t trust that smile one bit. “What’s funny?”

Overflowing with good humor, Marla said, “You haven’t slept with him, have you?”

How would she know that? She couldn’t. “I never kiss and tell.”

Marla shook her head. “Spencer said you were a one-night stand, a mistake, but now I know that was a lie.”

A mistake? That dick. She’d make him pay for that. “You calling Spence a liar?”

“I’m just saying that he made up a story for some reason. Maybe to protect you somehow. I know he’s a bounty hunter. Could be you’re undercover with him or something.”

Huh. What exactly did she think bounty hunters did? Mocking her assumptions, Arizona said, “That’s some imagination you’ve got.”

Marla shrugged. “All I know is that you haven’t slept with him.”

“You’re sure about that, are you?”

“Absolutely.” Marla oozed satisfaction, even leaned in to taunt Arizona. “If you’d ever had him, you’d feel differently about having him again.”

She sounded so convinced, she piqued Arizona’s interest. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

With significance, Marla purred, “For one thing, he’s big all over.”

Arizona’s heart almost stopped. In an appalled whisper, she asked, “You like that?”

Scowling, Marla pulled back. “Bigger is definitely better.”

Visuals came to Arizona’s mind, but she didn’t have quite the reaction Marla seemed to expect. She wrinkled her nose. “If you say so.”

Marla shivered with pleasure. “He’s delicious.”

Yeaaaahhhh, she’d let that one go. “You’re saying that even though he’s big, you don’t feel…” She couldn’t think of an appropriate word and settled for, “maybe threatened?”

“With Spencer? Of course not.”

Hmm. Okay, so Spencer was extra tall, extra muscular, solid, and loaded with ability. He had never hurt her.

Contained her, yes. Hurt her, no. “So you like it that he’s big?”

“That, and the man knows things.”

Fascinating. What things could he know that she didn’t, that Marla found not only acceptable, but good enough to want again and again? “Give me an example.”

“I’m not telling you!”

Provoking her—because she really did want details—Arizona said, “That’s what I thought. You can’t give an example because you don’t know.”

“He’s wonderful.”

Arizona snorted. “Wonderfully pushy.”

“He’s considerate and patient.”

“So is my bookie,” Arizona told her, “but I wouldn’t want to screw him.” She shuddered at just the thought.

Taking the bait, Marla leaned forward again. “He’s the best, most generous lover I’ve ever had.”

“How many have you had?”

“My God.” Gasping, Marla drew back once more. “That is none of your business!”

“You brought it up.” Still ripe with curiosity, Arizona asked, “So what does Spence do specifically that’s so awesome you’d be willing to fight for him?”

Marla blanched. “Fight? But…but I never said anything about fighting.”

“No? So then what’s this?” Arizona waved a hand between them. “Some sort of warped social call?”

Her mouth worked, but it took her a few seconds to get anything out. “He said you’re a stalker.”

Considering she’d broken in and watched him sleep, she couldn’t deny that. “Ehhhh…maybe.”

Marla found her courage again. “Well, whatever reason you’re here, you might as well give up on the idea of having him. He’s mine, and he’s staying mine.”

Spencer drove up and, looking horrified to see the women together, pulled into his driveway and slammed the truck into Park.

Lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the sun, Arizona watched him cross the yard in a fast, long-legged stride. He wore a frown of concern. Sheesh. What did he think she’d do to his girlfriend?

“Last chance to tell me what’s so special about him.” In bed.

“That’s personal, so forget it.”

Knowing there’d be no more Q & A, Arizona said to Marla, “Spoilsport.” And then she waited for Spencer to reach them.

* * *

WHILE ARIZONA ACTED as if nothing had happened, Spencer continued to stew. He didn’t know if she truly lacked all social graces, or if she enjoyed pushing his buttons in any and every way possible.

There’d be hell to pay with Marla. She’d already started to get clingy, and now, seeing Arizona as a direct threat, she’d probably double her efforts.

Just what he didn’t need.

Since losing his wife three years ago, he’d occasionally given in to his baser urges. He was a grown man, and between long bouts of celibacy, he needed relief.

He didn’t fault himself for that.

But giving in to Marla had been a huge mistake. Their close proximity as neighbors was sticky enough; the fact that she had marriage in her eyes should have been the clincher.

Unfortunately, a few months after she’d moved in, she’d caught him at a weak moment, a moment he regretted, and after that…well, he’d slept with her a total of three times.

Idiotic. And regrettable.

But that was all before meeting Arizona, and since meeting her… No, he hadn’t wanted Marla.

Straddling a chair, Arizona watched him intently as he went about cooking dinner. There was a new attentiveness to her gaze that hadn’t been there before. He didn’t understand it.