Sterling (9 page)

“You need to keep that stick in your pants,” I laughed as Adam cleared the table.

“You really should quit your day job,” I yelled out. “Open up your own bistro. I could waitress and flirt with the customers, if I’m flirt-worthy.”

“You’re definitely flirt-worthy. I bet you have to beat men off with a stick.”

I carried the remaining plates to the sink and stood beside him. He washed, I dried.

“You saw what a ravishing delight I used to be.” Sarcasm dripped off my tongue. “Sunny was the flirt, I just hung back and observed the master.”

“Some men prefer beer over a fine wine. That doesn’t mean much.”

“So what am I in this scenario—the beer or the wine?”

Adam dropped his chin and frowned. “The wine, of course.”

“Sunny would kick your ass for calling her beer.”

“It’s not a put down. Some girls are the kind that every man appreciates, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

He ran the plate under the faucet scrubbing it with the bristle sponge and passed it over to me.

Part of our perception of our looks is shaped from a lifetime of comments, opinions and reactions to it. I always knew where I stood before. But now, I had none of that to go on outside of what I saw in the mirror—was I still wine, or was I beer? Hell, maybe now I was moonshine.

“I’m sorry I slapped you and said what I did.”

“Don’t apologize, you were right. I shouldn’t have left you alone like that, you could have been hurt.” There was a delicate stretch of silence. “So who was I chasing?”

I tensed. Here it was, the moment Adam would decide how far-fetched this whole thing really was. He knew what he found and he knew what the paper said, but he didn’t know the whole truth of it.

“I was crossing a field that night on my way home when someone jumped me.”

Adam played statue, holding a bowl under the running water but not looking up. Perhaps he was afraid if he startled me, I might quit talking.

I continued to dry the plate, every square inch of it.

Three times

As I told him the details of what happened to me, my pulse quickened and I was out of breath. While I had replayed the events in my head a million times I didn’t realize how much it would still affect me when I actually verbalized it. When I finished, I recapped.

“I didn’t even hear him come up on me; he just knocked me over and was doing something with our hands.”

“Doing what?”

“I don’t know, it was like he was sucking the life out of me, and then it was back. It was electric, like you described. He tried choking me after I kicked him in the groin, but then…”

“Zoë.” Adam’s expression tightened. The water was no longer on. My name was a single request to keep going.

“He said he had done the same thing to others, and that he was going to make mine so much worse. It hurt Adam, it hurt so much when he cut my throat with that knife.”

An angry curse sliced through the conversation.

It wasn’t mine.

“You feel it when you die. You just know. My heart stopped and I had this weightless disconnected sensation.” Remembering Adam’s sister, I didn’t want to give him nightmares. “Once it was done, it was okay. Your soul wants to go…somewhere. I wanted to hold on, too. But there was a familiarity to it. That’s all I remember, until I woke up in the body bag.”

My arms wrapped around my waist. “I don’t know how or why I’m still here. He wasn’t normal; and somehow whatever he did changed me. I don’t think he meant to kill me; that’s the strange part. Do you think he made me this way on purpose?

I stood there trying to remain stoic—I wanted to shut it off like a faucet and just not feel anything.

Adam captured my hands and wrapped them around his body, pulling me against him. He cradled me and even with the uncertainty of knowing I could hurt him again, he held me with such devotion. I fell against his chest and closed my eyes.

Adam wiped strands of my hair away from my forehead.

“Zoë, you can stop being a tough bitch now. Cry if you need to.”

“I don’t cry in front of people.”

I was not a crier, especially in front of someone else because that was showing too much vulnerability, which I wasn’t willing to give anyone.

“Would it make you feel better to know that I’m going to kill him?”

The threat hung at the end of the conversation like a stinger on a bee. No more words were spoken, and we remained like that until I felt ready to let go.

Chapter 8

It was just after dusk and Adam left the house to run some errands
. Earning my keep became an important role, so after polishing the floor to a solid shine, I tucked the mop back into its corner in the hall closet and looked up. There were three rows of high shelves. Adam put the stupid cleaners on the top shelf. Because I wanted to scrub out some of the grime that dripped to the bottom shelf in the fridge, I dragged one of the small kitchen chairs over and climbed up.

Just as my fingers reached for the lemon scented cleaner, the metal legs slid across the wet floor and away from my feet.

I grabbed one of the shelves and it snapped away from the wall sending all the contents spilling to the floor. Luckily, the metal toolkit broke my fall and I cringed as the top shelf items of batteries, nails and screws showered over me like shrapnel.

When the last screw rolled to a stop, I looked around.
What a mess.

There was an unexpected knock at the front door.

“Hold on!” I called out, thinking Adam forgot the keys to the house. I flicked a few nails that had stuck to my arm and cursed at the board on the floor that used to be a shelf.
He’s going to kill me
.

More impatient knocking.

“Okay I’m coming,” I said in annoyance. I winced when I stood up—my shoulder cried out and I kicked a few of the screws in the closet.

When I swung the door open to apologize to Adam—before he even saw the catastrophe—my jaw hung silent.

The gun show was in town and I was getting the private tour. Two giant biceps were swallowed up a sleeveless white shirt. I looked up at a steel expression, as if his skin had been pulled taut over thick jaw and broad cheekbones. Knox gave his greeting with a thin-lipped grin. He wore the same black cap snug to his head, and black hair peeked out around the edges.

“I don’t think we were properly introduced,” he said without moving those folded arms. There was no attempt to shake my hand.

Blocking the doorway with my body I blew out an agitated, “Can I help you?”

He dropped his arms but his smile remained fixed. “I’m Knox. I’m an old friend of Raz—Adam. And you are?”

My eyes arrowed to the shadow of a weapon beneath his shirt. “Is he expecting you?”

“Is he around? I need to talk to him.”

“He’s busy,” I lied. When I shouldered the door closed, his oversized boot wedged inside of the open space.

Knox shook his head. “Adam isn’t here.”

“How do you know? Because the only balls I see on you aren’t crystal.”

Knox snorted and actually shifted his balls. I averted my eyes at the gesture. “Adam would never let anyone else answer his own door. I didn’t get your name.

“Then wait outside, he didn’t tell me you were coming so you’re not invited.”

“He’s not expecting me, true. I know I’m intimidating but fuck, I’m as harmless as—” Knox quieted as he leaned over my shoulder craning his head around the door to look behind me.

“What the
fff
—”

I was brushed to the side and stumbled over my feet when the door swung open. Knox signed, sealed and delivered his own invitation as he marched into the kitchen and loomed in front of the closet. His combat style boots stopped short of the fallen chair, broken shelf, and scattered tools. Knox twisted his large body around gripping something beneath his shirt.

“Are you alone?” Not waiting for an answer, his eyes were already scoping the house.

“Not anymore.”

Well the invitation situation was now a moot point. I closed the door behind me and walked into the kitchen, glaring at the new visitor.

“The chair slid out from me when I was rehearsing for my strip routine.”

Knox wasn’t listening; he slanted his eyes staring out the back window. “You sure about that?”

The legs of the chair slammed on the floor as my best fake smile played across my face. “Can I offer you some tasty refreshments?”

That broke the tension. Knox huffed out a laugh and strolled back into the kitchen pulling his shirt down. “You aren’t exactly the kind of woman I pictured Adam falling for.”

I laughed back and pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge. “I’m not his woman.”

“Damn shame to hear that,” he said as he slid his wide frame into the tiny chair. It quivered beneath his weight and looked about as frightened as an inanimate object could.

“Let’s go into the living room before you give that chair a heart attack.”

I set his beer down on the coffee table, easing back on the sofa while picking at the label on my bottle. “So how do you two know each other?”

The beer let out a sigh of relief as did the chair he collapsed in—Adam’s black leather, ass-pampering seductress of comfort. Knox didn’t just sit in the chair, he eclipsed it.

I waited while he knocked back half the bottle. “We served together.”

“Military?”
That would explain a lot about Adam’s behavior
.

“He didn’t tell you, huh? How long you guys been…
not dating
?” he smirked. Yet it was not a casual question.

I could see why Adam would click with Knox; he was an extremely likable guy once you got past all of the bulk and attitude. What particularly interested me is that most people automatically assume a guy of his size is all brawn and no brain, but there was intellect behind his eyes and he was analyzing every answer I gave making me more self-conscious. With the mention of military I might have assumed front lines—Marine. But intelligence was more like it.

“He’s just helping me out. I’m between jobs right now and he’s letting me stay here for a while.” I tried to twist off my cap but a sharp pain sliced through my shoulder. I grimaced as my muscles gave a silent warning not to try that again.

Knox leaned over and snatched my beer, popping off the lid as easily as a 600lb gorilla could crack a peanut. “If you don’t have a home, what were you doing at those apartments?”

“You first.”

“Visiting a friend.”

“Likewise.”

That answer didn’t satisfy him but he looked as if he were expecting it.

“Where did you meet?” he pressed on.

I shrugged and considered a little rephrasing. “I was out for a run.”

“From who?”

I leaned back to take a long, very long, slow sip of that beer.

Knox leaned forward. “I think we’re both bullshitting here, you ever play that card game?”

“With my grandma, every Sunday after church.”

He laughed and that’s when Adam burst through the front door. If he had just seen us sitting in the living room there might not have been such concern on his face. But his features were marred by the state of disarray the kitchen closet was in.

“In here. Ignore the mess everything’s fine.”

Adam came in, not surprised to see Knox as his jeep would have tipped him off. The keys were tossed on the bar and Knox stood up to give him a handshake when Adam shoved his hand into his chest. “Did you touch her?”

“
As if
,” Knox choked.

I interrupted the birth of a fight. “I’m sorry I broke your closet shelf, but you don’t put cleaners out of reach unless you have kids. They go under the sink.”

“You should listen to the woman,” Knox said as he patted Adam on the back. “Or should I say…
your
woman?”

“Sit the fuck down,” Adam laughed.

“Quite the little smut mouth, isn’t he?” Knox winked and I smiled, scooting over to make room for Adam. Beer splashed on my legs when he pushed me forward mid sip.

“What are you doing?” I protested.

“Jesus, what the hell did you do to yourself?”

He was staring at my back.
Oh yeah, that.

“I fell out of my chair.” I could almost hear the snare of a drum at the poor choice of words that sounded like a bad joke. My curtain closed and I took another swig of beer.

“Wanna kiss it and make it better or can I sit back now?”

“You’re bleeding.”

Shit, all over his sofa
. I turned around and saw the smear on the black leather. I cursed under my breath. Adam loved his leather and even hated the fact that I ate on it. “I’m sorry…I didn’t realize. I’ll get something to clean it.”

“Fuck the sofa woman, stay here.”

He disappeared in the bedroom and I watched Knox’s eyebrows slowly rise up as he polished off his beer. “Friends huh?” He examined the last drops swirling at the bottom.