Honor Unraveled (16 page)

He flagged the waitress down and ordered another beer, then slumped down in his seat, resolving to get through the night as the group’s resident table-sitter and purse-watcher. The guys and their women moved between the dance floor and the table in waves of motion, as Ivy did with Beck. After another landing, he noticed through his peripheral vision that the table was full—with only Val missing.
 

He scanned the room, looking for the big blond. He wasn’t head and shoulders above everyone; Wyoming seemed to grow big ranchers. He was, however, the only guy on the dance floor with several women clinging to him. Christ, they had their hands everywhere. In his pockets—front and back. Curved up around a shoulder. Standing close and working his neck as he bent over the jukebox.

No. No. No. Not the jukebox. “Oh, shit, Greer!” Kit growled, nodding over toward Val. “Tell me he’s not pulling a Michael. Did you let him watch TV after midnight?”

Greer looked where Kit was staring. “Hey, man, I’m not his keeper.”
 

Kit made a face and lifted his longneck. “Better drink up, boys. It’ll help with the pain later when the guys get tired of Val taking their women.” Literally and figuratively.

A song belted out over the speakers in Aretha Franklin’s dusky voice, the R&B tune clearing the floor except for Val and his four suckerfish. He moved in perfect rhythm to Aretha’s “Baby, I Love You,” writhing like a stripper, holding one girl while he kissed another, dirty dancing with a third, and twirling the forth. Shit. The man could move. He did the same thing in a hand-to-hand fight, popping his fists, feet, and knives where his opponents least expected it.
 

Kit tore his eyes away long enough to see that the whole table, hell the whole bar was watching him. It was late enough that the families had vacated, leaving the place to adults. A good thing, because the girls clustered around him started undressing him. Boots, then socks, hat then shirt. They started on his jeans, but he redirected their hands—up and down his body, though not before his top jeans button was released, leaving his waistband to droop down his lean hips, exposing a strip of his white briefs.
 

He and his cloud of women made their way over to a table of women—the same one Kit had noted earlier. The women wore short skirts, plunging tops, and up hairdos. By the time he reached the table, the music on the jukebox had switched to a deep-throated oldie by Bread, “I Don’t Love You.” The girls stood and formed a circle around him, laughing and screaming as he did a full-on Magic Mike.
 

Kit glanced down the table and wasn’t surprised to see Eden and Fiona ogling the sniper. Across the way, Ivy was watching, too. He pulled his gaze away from his woman and noticed that Greer’s gaze was fixed on the main entrance. Kit picked up his beer and took a sip while he turned to see what had caught Greer’s attention.

A young woman was standing inside the entryway. Her light brown hair was braided along the sides of her head, leading back to a thick ponytail that lay over the front of her shoulder. She wore a skimpy plaid top that was tied beneath her breasts, baring the slim column of her waist. She wore low-rider shorts with a wide belt that emphasized the curves of her hips. If her shorts were as wide as his hand, he’d be surprised. He doubted the frayed hems even covered her butt cheeks. Her long, pale legs ended in a pair of red and white leather cowboy boots.

“What’re you waiting for? Go get her,” he told Greer.
 

“No need. She’s heading this way.”

“Kit Bolanger?” the girl asked as she stopped beside him.

Shit. Not what he wanted at the moment. He dragged his eyes up the sweet length of the girl’s body. “Who’s asking?”

She pushed him back against his seat. “I’ve been looking for you.” She threw a leg over his lap and mounted him, hooking her heels in the rungs of his chair.

Jesus, was he old or was she super young? “Honey, your parents know you’re out here?”

“They know.”

“What can I do for you?”

She ground her hips against his. She was young and nubile, and he responded the way his body was long trained to react. Casual sex was all he’d known since his time with Ivy. Here it was being offered to him on a silver platter. And fuck if his response wasn’t kicking his ass.

She leaned forward and kissed him, the awkward gesture of an untried girl. He gripped her face and pushed back. “What’s your name?”

“Sally.”

“Uh-huh. You got my real name. How about giving me yours?”

“I can’t.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m a good girl. I’ve always done what was expected of me. What I needed to do.”

Kit frowned. Her words, besides being weird as shit, were a little slurred. He tilted the girl’s face so the light could catch her eyes. Her pupils were dilated and fixed. He wondered if she even knew where she was. A warning, that should have kicked off the minute he saw her in the doorway, started alarm bells in his head. He did a quick pat-down, feeling for a weapon hidden in her bra, her hip pockets. His hands followed her legs down into her boots where he found the sleek hilt of a knife.

He looked around the girl at Greer, who was watching them with a frown on his face.

“Mr. Bolanger…” the girl said in a sweet voice.

“Yeah?”

She leaned forward again. “I have to kill you.”

“Good to know.” Kit nodded. “How do you plan on doing that?”

She slipped the knife from her boot. “It’s like killing a pig. Be still, okay? ’Cause I’m seein’ two of you.”

“Sally, that knife’s more for eating a pig than killing it. Who made you do this?” Kit gripped her fist and pushed her hand down. Greer, seeing the flash of steel, was up and around the table in seconds. He pulled her hand down and retrieved the knife she held. It was a wide blade made from heavy-grade steel, about the size of a heavy duty steak knife. Weird thing was it didn’t look machine made. Greer wrapped it in a napkin and slipped it inside his shirt.

“She’s on something,” Greer hissed, wanting to draw as little attention as possible.
 

“Who drugs an assassin before the deed?” Kit snapped. “We’ve got to get her out of here, over to the clinic. We’ll question her there when she comes around. I’ll go get the doc.”

Greer pulled the girl from Kit’s lap. Kit noticed Ivy had returned to her table. She was grabbing her sweater and purse with sharp, jerky motions. She sent Kit a single burning look, then made a straight line for the exit, Beck close at her heels. He caught up to them at the exit and snagged Beck’s arm.

The doctor turned around. “You’re a bastard, you know that?”

“Yeah. I get that a lot.”

“You had to get it on with that girl, here, in front of Ivy?”

“It’s not what it looks like. She’s been drugged. I don’t know what she took, but she needs help. Greer’s got her over by the bathrooms. Can you meet us at the clinic?”

He sighed. “Yeah. What about Ivy?”

“I’ll go get her. Thanks, man. Sorry to bust into your date.” The doctor went into the front hall where Greer had gone with the girl. Kit hurried outside. Ivy was leaning against the wall near the entrance. When she saw him, she took off through the parking lot, her arms wrapped tightly about herself.

“Ivy. Wait.”

“Leave me alone, Kit.” He saw her wipe a hand across her face.

“No. I won’t.” He caught up with her outside one of their SUVs and drew her around to face him. The streetlights caught the moisture on her cheeks. “That wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Oh? That wasn’t a barely dressed woman giving you a lap dance?”

“No.”

“You kissed her. You had your hands all over her.”

“I was checking her for weapons.”

Ivy’s jaw gaped as she huffed a disbelieving breath. “That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard.”

“She came here to stab me. Did you see the knife she had?”

“She didn’t have a scrap of clothes on large enough to hide lip balm.”

“It was in her boot.”

Ivy’s lips flattened out. “Of course it was. You’re going to have to do better than that, Kit. Who would send a little girl like that to take on a man like you? I want to go home. Now.”

“Good idea.” He unlocked the SUV and held the door for her. He turned around, watching for Greer and the girl as he dialed Blade.
 

“Hey, bro. Everything okay?”
Blade answered.

“No. A girl just tried to kill me. Greer and the doc are taking her to the clinic. Ivy thinks I was putting the moves on her, but the girl was drugged.”

“Shit. I missed all that?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll round the guys up. We’ll get the girls back to the house, then meet you up there.”
 

“No need. Take Eden and Fiona home. Leave Angel and Kelan to back up Val when shit breaks loose. ’Cause you know it will.”

“Copy that.”

Kit hung up as Beck and Greer came over with their arms around the girl. “Sorry about the wait. She thought she was going to puke.”
 

“My car’s over this way.” Beck handed his keys to Greer. “You drive. I’ll sit in the back with her.”

Kit went around to get into the driver’s seat of his SUV. Ivy leaned forward, watching as Beck and Greer drag-walked the girl off to Beck’s car. “You were serious. Something’s wrong with her.”

“She’s been drugged. We’re taking her to the clinic.” Kit pulled out of the parking lot. Fortunately, they only had a few blocks to go.
 

After a minute, Ivy sighed. “I’m sorry. I jumped to the wrong conclusion. I saw her all over you….”

Kit couldn’t help the grin that broke free. He sent her a quick look. “’S’all good. You were jealous.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

Kit’s grin widened. He focused on the road, trying not to gloat over her reaction. At the clinic, Greer carried the girl inside. Beck kept pace with them. Kit and Ivy were close behind. The nurses hurriedly brought a gurney over and wheeled her into a room while the doctor ran down the situation.
 

One of the nurses stayed behind to question Greer. “What did she take?”

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Happened before she got to us.”

“Was she raped?”

“Again, no idea what happened to her.” He sent a look over his shoulder toward Kit. “She tried to kill him.”

The nurse made a face that clearly said she didn’t like mayhem in her town. “I’m going to call the sheriff.”

Kit nodded. “Do what you need to do.” Greer leaned against the wall opposite her door, silent, still, and deadly. Kit and Ivy moved farther down the hallway to get out of the way while the professionals helped the girl. There was a sitting area around the corner that they had to themselves. And whatever cameras the clinic had set up.

Ivy didn’t seem inclined to sit. She was pacing, her arms folded in front of her. “I was jealous.” She sent him a quick look.

“That’s okay. I was, too. I hate having any man touch you. Or watching you smile at them.” He sighed. “You looked like you were having fun.”

“I was. Beck’s a nice guy.”

Kit clamped down on his jaw, keeping himself from talking for a few seconds until his filters caught up to his mouth. “You going out with him again?”

“No.”

Good fuck, that was a relief. “Why not?”

She shrugged. “He’s not the one.”

“You can tell that from a single date?”

“I can.” She’d stopped in front of him. “I want what I want, Kit.”

He blinked, felt his jaw muscles contract. “That a fact? You feel like sharing what it is you’re looking for?”

“I want forever. Safety. Peace. Loyalty. Faithfulness.”

Kit nodded. He could provide some of her needs. Loyalty, faithfulness, and forever. Safety and peace could only exist in an artificial environment he set up for her, like the one he had her in now. She was a captured butterfly, taken from her world and put in a lovely terrarium where there was room enough for her to spread her wings in micro flights across the space. She could eat, breed, and die in the safety he gave her. But she would never again ride the breeze on a sunny spring day, floating wherever it took her. She knew it. And he knew it.
 

And it goddamn broke his heart.

Greer’s warning whistle alerted him someone was about to walk around the corner. Kit moved back a few inches, but the tension bouncing back and forth between him and Ivy was loud and clear. The sheriff drew to a stop as he looked from one to the other. His face took on a strange expression when he caught them standing so close to each other. “Evenin’. You want to tell me what happened tonight, Bolanger?”

“I wish I could. The girl walked into Winchester’s, came straight over to me, climbed on my lap, and said she had to kill me.”

“Huh. How was she gonna do that?” the sheriff asked.

“With this.” Greer pulled the napkin-covered knife out of his pocket. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep it, see what prints we can get off it.”

“You pressing charges?” he asked Kit.