No One to Trust (12 page)

Miguel’s casual attitude annoyed him, but he
bit back a response. Right now he needed his cousin to have his
back. Needed someone he could trust on the streets. Especially with
Benny still out there. “Have you heard anything about Benny?”

Miguel nodded. “That’s what I wanted to tell
you. Got a tip that he’s shacked up with one of his exes. Another
junkie who apparently went straight. Heard someone saw him around
her place.”

Finally luck was shining down on him. Orlando
nodded at two of his guards hovering by the Olympic sized pool a
few feet away. “You two come with us.”

Miguel fell in stride with him as they headed
toward the house. “You don’t want to send someone?”

“Not this time.” He wanted Benny and he was
through depending on anyone else to clean up this mess.

* * * * *

Porter knelt in front of Elizabeth, careful
as he removed the strips of bloodied cloth from her feet. She
sucked in a hiss of breath once but other than that, didn’t make a
sound as he took them completely off.

She sat on the closed toilet lid in the
bathroom of a local diner that was open twenty-four hours.
Unfortunately it wasn’t far from the motel they’d run from, but
while they waited for his brother it was the best place to hide and
inspect Elizabeth’s wounds. The tired looking waitress hadn’t
glanced twice at them when they’d told her they’d need a minute
before ordering. She’d just grunted and nodded as they’d hurried to
the restroom in the back of the one-story building. Other than her,
there hadn’t been anyone else out front.

“You don’t have to do that.” Elizabeth laid a
gentle hand on his shoulder.

Looking up at her in that rumpled dress, a
bad case of bed head and dark circles under her eyes, he just
wanted to pull her into his arms and get her the hell out of there.
“Yeah I do,” he murmured, looking back down.

Her feet weren’t as bad as he’d originally
thought. They were raw but once he got some proper bandages and
some serious antibiotics on them, she should be fine. He grabbed a
bunch of paper towels and placed them in front of the white sink.
There wasn’t a mirror in the place, though that was probably a good
thing. Neither of them needed to see what they looked like.

“Can you stand?” he asked.

Laughing under her breath, she nodded. “I’m
not going to break, Porter. My feet hurt, but this isn’t that
bad.”

As she stood, placing her feet on the paper
towels, he put his arm under her shoulders. “Put one foot in the
sink.”

After washing the blood away, she repeated
the process with the other foot then stepped onto fresh paper
towels. As he helped her to sit back down, his phone buzzed once in
his pocket. When he saw his brother’s text, telling Porter that he
was outside waiting for them, relief flooded sharp and potent
inside him. “Grant’s outside,” he told Elizabeth.

“Thank God,” she muttered as she stood.

After throwing away the bloody towels, Porter
peered outside to find the small hallway by the restrooms empty.
Thankfully the rest of the diner was the same except for the
waitress from earlier. Even though she let out a yelp, Porter
picked Elizabeth up and carried her out. “I don’t want you walking
barefoot on this floor,” he murmured as they hurried through the
quiet diner.

“I’m not complaining.” She tightened her grip
around his shoulder.

He turned to the side and pushed open the
glass door with his hip. The second they stepped outside, Grant
jumped out of the front seat of his four-door police-issued
sedan.

Even though he had on sunglasses, Porter
could see the tenseness in his brother’s shoulders as he approached
them. “Shit, you didn’t tell me she was hurt.”

“
She
is right here and I’m fine. I
just need some bandages,” Elizabeth said as she shifted against
him.

Instinctively Porter glanced around the
parking lot, gauging possible threats as he took her to the back
seat of Grant’s car. When he didn’t see anyone, he helped her
inside then slid in after her.

Grant immediately got in the driver’s seat.
Before Porter could ask if his brother had brought what he’d asked,
Grant handed him a plastic shopping bag and a small first aid
kit.

“I didn’t know your size, Lizzy so I
guessed.” Grant didn’t glance at them as he steered out of the
parking lot.

“Put on these new clothes first then I’ll
bandage your feet,” Porter said to her when she looked
questioningly at the bag Grant had handed them.

“Keep your eyes on the road, Grant,” she
muttered as she started pulling clothing out.

His brother grunted a non-response as he
zoomed down the road and away from the diner.

Despite the situation, Porter grinned as she
hurriedly stripped out of the dress and into the fitted pair of
dark jeans and tight black T-shirt. He should have given her a
little privacy, but he couldn’t help and sneak a few glances in her
direction. After seeing her half naked this morning he was kicking
himself for showing so much damn restraint back when they’d been
dating. Since she didn’t have a bra Porter could see the outline of
her nipples. She cleared her throat and he realized he’d been
staring when he caught her gaze.

Her pretty lips pulled together in a thin
line. “Do you mind?” she whispered.

Knowing that flirting with her would get him
burned he kept his mouth shut, but still couldn’t keep from
grinning. “Sorry,” he whispered back.

She shook her head, but he was relieved to
see a small smile tug at her lips. “No you’re not.”

He shrugged and patted his leg. “Put your
foot up here.”

Using a small bottle from the first aid kit,
he poured hydrogen peroxide on her feet. She hissed but didn’t
struggle.

As he continued with the ointment and
bandages, Grant finally spoke. “What the hell is going on with you
two? And don’t give me some bullshit story. After the drive-by, the
explosion and now some gang members attacking you, why the hell
aren’t you going into protective custody?”

Porter already hated involving his brother
this much. “I already told you—”

“I know what you told me and I also know
you
. Do not fucking lie to me anymore,” Grant growled.

Porter met his angry gaze in the rearview
mirror, but before he could speak, Elizabeth beat him to it.

“It’s my fault.” Her voice was quiet, but
strong and he realized she was going to tell Grant the truth so he
didn’t try to stop her. “Benny left me a key. Porter thinks it’s to
a safe deposit box and I agree with him.” She shot Porter a quick
look, then returned her gaze to the front seat. “We need to see
what’s inside it since it’s obviously tied to why Orlando wants me
dead.”

“Captured,” Porter corrected quietly.

“What?” Frowning, she turned to look at
him.

“That gang member said they needed to take
you alive. Which means Orlando wants to use you as a bargaining
chip against Benny. Possibly for whatever’s in that safe deposit
box.” Porter looked at his brother again. “We need to get
whatever’s in that box first and I don’t need you involved. You’re
a cop and if it’s illegal you’ll have an ethical duty to report
it.”

Grant was silent for a long moment, then
finally gave a short nod. “I don’t like it, but you’re right. And
I’m still following you to whatever bank you’re going to. If any of
Orlando’s guys get a bead on your location, I want to be nearby,
especially since you can’t bring a weapon inside.”

Porter nodded. “Fine with me. Lizzy?” He
couldn’t help but call her by the nickname as he looked at her.

“What if the contents of the box are
illegal?” she murmured even though Grant could hear her.

Porter didn’t even want to go there because
he knew he’d break a lot of laws to keep her damn brother out of
trouble. Not for Benny, but for Lizzy. That scared the shit out of
him. But he couldn’t say that in front of Grant. “We’ll deal with
that once we open it, okay?”

Expression grim, she nodded. “Okay. I…I trust
you.”

It almost seemed to pain her to say the
words, but it touched him she’d even opened up to Grant. By telling
his brother what was going on it was obvious she trusted his family
to some extent.

The longer Porter was around her, the more he
realized that walking away from her after this bullshit with her
brother and Orlando Salas was over, was going to be damn near
impossible.

Chapter 10

Lizzy clasped her hands tightly together in
her lap as she stared at the bank looming across the street from
her and Porter. The simple building with palm trees and an American
flag outside it shouldn’t be intimidating.

“You have nothing to be nervous about. As
soon as Grant lets us know the bank is clear, you’re good to go
inside.” Next to her in the driver’s seat of the car Grant had
retrieved for them, Porter was once again the epitome of calmness.
He didn’t need to say a damn word. The man just made her feel safe
simply by being here. After seeing him in action more than once,
she knew there was no one she’d rather be with right now than
him.

She was thankful for that. For so many years
she’d been cleaning up Benny’s messes on her own. On an
intellectual level she knew she was only enabling her brother. But
she didn’t know how to
stop
helping him. Turning her back on
him seemed cruel when she was the only family member who would have
anything to do with him. Having Porter helping her even when she
knew what he thought about her brother was a huge relief. She
hadn’t even realized how stressful taking care of Benny had become
until now, when she had someone sharing the burden. “I know. It’s
just not knowing if this is even the right bank. What if it’s
not?”

Porter shrugged, those broad shoulders
lifting casually. “Then we keep hunting until we find the right
one. But…this is one of the most secure banks in Miami and the key
looks almost exactly like mine. Your brother might be a junkie but
he doesn’t strike me as stupid. This is the place he’d hide
something important.”

Her first instinct was to defend Benny at
Porter’s use of the word junkie, but he’d almost said the words
absently as he intently scanned the area around them for possible
threats. He wasn’t insulting her brother, just stating a fact.
Benny
was
a junkie. Even if he had been clean for a little
while, he had an addiction problem. If it wasn’t drugs, it was
gambling. She needed to come to terms with it and stop making
excuses.

Lizzy looked out her tinted window again. The
row of tall, skinny palm trees in front of the two story bank
swayed in the gentle breeze across the street. And the steady
stream of people who had been milling in and out of the
international bank only half an hour before had thinned to an
almost nonexistent trickle. After another few minutes passed, only
one man in a suit stood under the stone overhang outside the
building talking on his cell phone. “Can I use your phone again? I
want to check my voicemail.” Porter’s cell was encrypted so she had
no worries of them being traced if she used it. Since she’d thrown
hers out, she’d been trying to check her voicemail as much as
possible on the chance Benny called with more information.

Porter nodded as he pulled it out of his
pants pocket and handed it to her. Now that they were both wearing
regular clothes and she’d had a chance to brush her hair—and thank
God brush her teeth—she felt more like her old self again. Not
completely, but anything was better than running around in that
dress with no shoes on. The sneakers Grant had brought for her were
a little big, but they were cushioned and helped with her
soreness.

She quickly dialed her number then punched in
the voicemail code. After deleting a message from her mother, and
her oldest brother Santos, the bottom of her stomach fell out when
she heard Orlando Salas’s unmistakably cruel voice on the other
end.
“I have something you want and you have something I want.
Let’s make a trade. If not, the thing you want will disappear.
Forever. Call me to make arrangements. And if you tell your fucking
bodyguard about this…well, people disappear all the time.”
He
left a number which she immediately memorized.

She could feel the color from her face drain
as the call ended so she slightly turned away from Porter, hoping
he wouldn’t notice. She wasn’t ready to tell him about this call
just yet. Especially since Orlando had not-so-subtly threatened him
too. Instead of deleting or saving it, she replayed it again. Her
hand tightened around the phone, her palm slick with perspiration.
She could only assume the ‘thing’ she wanted was Benny. Orlando had
been very careful to leave a fairly generic message. Sure the last
bit was threatening, but it was nothing that could get him in
trouble with the law. Sneaky bastard. Once she’d heard the number
again and was sure she’d committed it to memory, she snapped
Porter’s phone shut and handed it to him.

“You okay?” he asked, concern in his deep
voice and in every line of that handsome face. The man didn’t miss
a thing. Those eyes of his were so damn searching, so…full of
warmth it nearly undid her.

Instead of answering she asked what had been
on her mind the past twenty-four hours. “Why are you helping me,
Porter? You don’t owe me anything. You could have turned me over to
your brother and let the cops deal with all this. After today I
wouldn’t blame you if you did just that.”

Something flashed in his eyes, something
predatory and primal. It was gone so fast but she knew she hadn’t
imagined it. “I can’t
not
help you, Lizzy. I’d do any damn
thing you asked me to.” He ground the words out, as if admitting it
was painful.

For the second time in minutes, her stomach
dropped. Because of what he’d said and his use of her nickname. His
voice always softened when he called her Lizzy and she liked it a
little too much. “What—”