Play It Again (9 page)

There’s more silence for a moment and my
heart is pounding so hard that I’m certain they can hear it, that
they know I’m standing here, listening.

The silence stretches.

It’s deafening.

I consider turning around, not sure I want to
hear all their suspicions and plans, but my legs seem to have
another idea. Before I fully register what I’m doing, I’m standing
beside the couch where Vance is sitting, elbows on his knees and
hands dangling between spread legs.

“You guys think someone loosened my tire?” I
ask. “Who the hell does something like that?”

“My guess,” Wes says, reclining back in his
chair, “it’s the same person who’s been screwing around here.”

I gape at him. “Really?”

Jase nods, crossing a leg over his knee. “If
we’re right that it wasn’t just an accident, then yeah, it makes
the most sense it’s the same person.”

I shiver again, though this time I’m certain
it’s from the topic and not simply because I’m cold or hungover or
my head is throbbing.

Vance sees it, and his eyes soften. “You
should go to bed.”

“Vance,” I say, hating that my voice trembles
over his name, “do you agree with them?”

His lips press into a thin line, but his eyes
stay soft and concerned. “We don’t know anything for sure, Piper.
This is all just speculation. Nothing for you to worry about, so go
on and get some sleep, yeah?”

“No,” I say immediately, shaking my head. My
insides are nearly vibrating with the need to know why Vance
doesn’t want me involved in this conversation. I step right over to
him, dropping down beside him on the couch and folding my arms
stubbornly over my chest. “Don’t you dare try and put me off. I
deserve to know what’s going on or at least what you think is going
on. I need to know.”

“Jesus,” he mutters, looking at me curiously.
“When the hell did you get so stubborn?”

I narrow my eyes in a glare. “I’ve always
been stubborn. You just never bothered to find out before now.”

The words are out of my mouth before I can
stop them, and I instantly regret them. A look of disturbance
crosses Vance’s face and I get the feeling that he wants to say
something, refute my statement, but then Wes and Jase chuckle, and
the look melts away.

“All right, guys,” I snap, annoyance thick in
my voice, and I pin them all with a look. “Start talking. Now.”

Vance

Jase and Wes are gaping, full on, open
mouth, gaping, and Jesus, but I feel my jaw starting to drop,
too.

I stare at Piper. I’ve never seen her like
this before. Never known her to be demanding, or pushy, or
stubborn, and I’ve definitely never heard her snap.

At anyone.

Ever.

She might push a little, might make her
displeasure known for a tick or two, but she’s usually sweet about
it, quiet about it.

I can’t say I don’t like this new attitude on
her, because hell yes, I do. There’s just something so appealing
about a woman who wants something and grabs it by the balls, but
it’s a little after three o’clock in the morning and she looks
exhausted, a little pale with thin lines around her eyes and lips
that tell me she’s in pain.

My chest rises and falls, air rushing in and
out of my lungs, but I don’t feel like I’m breathing. At the
moment, I don’t feel anything but an urgent need to make her feel
better, and all I can think about doing is giving her the pain
pills the doctor left for her and tucking her into bed.

Her glare swivels between the three of us
expectantly, her hair, a deep red curtain hanging down her back,
and her expression ...
Fuck
, her expression is a roiling sea
of emotion. Anger. Shock. Anxiety. Concern.

She’s not going to let this go.

If the tables were reversed, I wouldn’t
either.

Silence swallows the room, and Piper begins
to fidget, wrapping the hem of her too-big tee around her finger.
For the first time since she came out here, I really take her in.
Baggy tee and yoga pants. She didn’t bother getting dressed up for
me, and I admire that. Shows me that she’s grown a certain level of
comfortability around me and the guys, and Jesus if that doesn’t
make my chest tighten and warm.

Scrubbing a hand over my face, I consider
what to say. I want to tell her everything, but also nothing,
because the truth is, there’s really nothing to tell. Until now,
she’d made it clear she didn’t want me doing anything more than
installing a security system, so aside from keeping an eye on her
house, a chat with Kim, and the call Wes placed to Cruz, I haven’t
really done any poking around.

All I’ve got is a gut feeling to go on.

No facts.

No solid leads.

Nothing tangible to give her.

“I’m sorry,” Piper blurts suddenly, her face
heating with embarrassment. “I shouldn’t have snapped. I’m
just—”

“Don’t apologize,” I say, cutting her short.
“Never apologize for saying something you mean.”

She smiles slightly and her chest rises and
falls with a heavy breath. “I know I said I didn’t want you guys to
look into this. I know I said it was nothing to worry about. But if
you really believe that tonight wasn’t just an accident, then I
need your help. But I also need to be involved, so if you can’t
give me that, I’ll hire someone who will.”

I don’t respond immediately, not because I
don’t want to, but because her blunt demands render me mute. Where
the hell has this side of Piper been hiding all these years?

She regards me critically for a second … two
… five … before letting out a frustrated huff and turning her gaze
to Jase and Wes. She lifts an eyebrow in question, urging someone
to respond, but they say nothing, just sit there and watch, leaving
everything up to me.

I don’t know whether I love them for that, or
hate them.

Sighing, I lean back, resting my head on the
back of the couch. When I finally speak, my words are even and my
tone, straightforward. “Wasn’t planning on keeping you in the dark,
Piper. Just figured with everything you’ve been through tonight you
need sleep more than you need to know what the nonexistent plan
is.”

“Oh,” she says, the word no more than a
whispered breath, as though she’s surprised, like she can’t quite
wrap her head around the fact that I wasn’t trying to hide anything
from her.

“Here’s what we suspect,” I continue. “You’ve
pissed someone off enough that they felt the need to vandalize your
home. If we’re right, that same person kicked it up a notch
tonight, going from simple vandalism to tampering with your truck,
which could wind up being looked at as attempted murder. We know
the cops don’t have any leads, but we also know they haven’t tried
too hard to find any. From what our contact told us, they’ve been
taking your complaints and adding them to the overflowing pile of
break and enter and destruction of property cases they have on the
go.”

Piper frowns and lifts her hands to her face,
rubbing the skin at her temples. “I thought there was an active
investigation,” she says. “The officers that came to my house told
me they were looking for the person who was doing this.”

I shake my head, letting out another sigh.
“They may be keeping an eye out, but they haven’t been actively
searching for the person or for leads. Until tonight, you’ve been a
pretty low priority, but I guarantee you that’s about to
change.”

“You’re fucking right it’s gonna change,”
Jase grinds out. “As soon as daylight hits, I’ll be pulling Cruz
into this.”

“Who’s Cruz?” she asks, shifting her weary
gaze to Jase.

“He’s a detective,” Jase says, giving her a
reassuring smile. “A friend of sorts. We’ve been helping each other
out on cases for a few years now.”

“But if the police aren’t doing anything,”
she says, “why do you think this detective will help?”

None of us respond immediately, none of us
really wanting to broach the whys, not with everything still so
fresh.

I glance at Jase, meeting his eyes as
something dark and unsettled passes across their depths. I’ve seen
that look a few times since he got back from New York, each time a
little darker, a little angrier, and I don’t have to guess where
his mind has gone.

Officer Lawrence Peck.

The dirty cop who abused Elena, forced her
into a relationship, and had her on the run for a year.

The same bastard who showed up at Jase’s
house trying to take her back, shot his father, and if Jase hadn’t
pulled the trigger, killing the man in his backyard, Peck would
have taken down Cruz. As it was, one of Peck’s bullets grazed
Cruz’s arm.

A few weeks ago I would’ve said we’d have to
badger Cruz enough until he gave in and helped us with the case.
Now, though ... now I know Cruz won’t hesitate.

It’s Wes who finally answers, his tone cool,
almost cold, his thoughts stuck on that night. “Because, Jase saved
his life.”

Piper must notice the untouchable topic vibe,
because she doesn’t question Wes’s blunt statement. She simply nods
and says, “Okay. We have the detective’s support. Where does that
leave us in terms of trying to track this person down?”

I smile, slightly amused at her persistence
and I turn to face her. “First, we get some sleep. Then, tomorrow
we can start here and work our way out, canvassing the area,
interviewing neighbors. See if anyone saw anything suspicious over
the last couple of weeks, or maybe someone new to the area.”

She hesitates, her gaze darting around the
room, landing on each one of us for a second, before she nods.
“Okay,” she says, nodding again, although this time the motion
seems to be more of an affirmation to herself than an agreement to
my proposed plan of attack. “Sleep, then canvassing. I think I can
handle that.”

We sit there for a few minutes longer,
hashing out the things Jase is going to tackle—meeting Cruz and
checking out the damage on Piper’s truck—while the rest of us get
some shut eye, before the guys pack it in and head out.

After walking them to the door, and giving
Piper’s spare truck keys to Jase, I lock the door and set the
alarm. I make my way back to the living room, to find Piper,
standing at the edge of the couch, arms loaded up with pillows and
blankets.

She looks at me over the stack in her arms
and blinks. “So, uh, my guest room is kind of my office now …”

She blushes, pink staining her freckled
cheeks and nose, and her gaze drops to settle on my chest.

“Couch is just fine, freckles,” I say,
fighting the grin that threatens to split my lips.

Her face lightens with a smile that looks
part relieved and part disappointed. “Okay, um … good,” she says,
setting the pile down on the arm of the couch. “Do you need
anything else?”

“You mind if I take a shower?” I ask.

She nods, looking down at the blankets for a
second, before turning back to me, offering a small smile. “Sure,
of course. You can use the main bathroom. Let me just grab you a
fresh towel.”

Piper moves down the hallway gingerly, taking
her time and picking her steps as though she’s not entirely steady
on her feet, and it twists my gut into knots as I follow her.

I want to reach out and steady her.

Scratch that. I want to scoop her up in my
arms and take the burden of walking from her.

She stops at a closet across from the
bathroom, opens it, and pulls out a plush burnt orange towel,
handing it to me. “There’s shampoo and soap under the counter,” she
says. “And a stash of extra toothbrushes and toothpaste, too.”

An unwelcome wave of jealousy strikes me at
her statement, and I cock a brow. “Why the hell do you have a stash
of toothbrushes?”

She shrugs, giving me a curious look. “I’m
big on oral hygiene. It’s important to change your toothbrushes
regularly you know.”

I chuckle, fighting through the possessive
urges, and remind myself that aside from her relationship with
Colton, Piper never was much of a dater. No way would she keep a
stash on the off chance she had a guy over.

The thought probably wouldn’t even cross her
mind.

Refusing to examine my reaction too closely,
I take the towel and mutter, “I know, and thanks.”

We stand there for a moment, staring at each
other, neither of us really sure what to say or do. I want to reach
out to her, pull her to me, hug her, kiss her so badly that my
fingers itch and burn with need, and by the way she’s looking up at
me, lips parted, cheeks pinked, I really don’t think she’d be
opposed to any of it.

Needing to touch her, I reach out a hand,
pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, my fingertips
brushing against her cheek. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t recoil from
my touch. Instead, she tilts into me, her entire body veering
toward me.

Cupping the nape of her neck, I lean in,
pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m glad you’re okay, freckles,”
I say against her skin. “Really fuckin’ glad.”

Her hands come to my shoulders as I start to
lean back, and before I can process it, she pushes up on her
tiptoes, closes her eyes, and presses her lips to mine.

I inhale a sharp breath, staggered,
completely dumbfounded.
Jesus.
I don’t know where it came
from, but I like the bold streak that’s caught hold of her tonight.
Liked her standing up and demanding answers earlier, and I really
fucking like her making her move now.

Her kiss is innocent and soft, almost
testing. Her lips barely part as she places tiny little pecks
against my mouth.

My hand tightens at the back of her neck, as
my other one comes up to her hip, but I don’t press her for more,
letting her take the lead and only accept what she’s giving me, too
fuckin’ ecstatic that she’s giving me anything at all.