Take a Chance (17 page)

Understanding dawned at Ethan’s absence. The
man had been fucking busy and most likely wouldn’t be showing his
face anytime soon.

The coffee mug shook on the way to the table.
The chair under him pushed back and he pressed his feet to the
floor, one hand on the tabletop until his knees started supporting
him again.

He wouldn’t survive this. The robbery. The
break in at Dena Lindsay’s house. The attempted kidnapping. And
now, a murder. Sure, he’d only actively participated in the robbery
at the brokerage, but the DA could call it conspiracy and he’d be
in prison for most of his natural life.

“
Ethan, you sorry son of a
bitch. What have you done to my life?” he asked of the empty room.
Knowing he couldn’t put the full blame on Ethan, he paced the small
living room on wobbly legs. There must be some way to get out of
this mess. He had a college degree. A law degree. He couldn’t fall
to his knees and give up. He sucked down another cup of coffee and
took a hot shower.

Between the shower and the coffee, he felt
scalded inside and out, but the numbness in his hands persisted.
Under the spray, he’d come up with a rudimentary plan. Still
wouldn’t get him a free ride, but maybe, just maybe, he’d get a
reduced sentence.

He picked up his cell and dialed.

“
Hey.”

“
Hey, man. Where you been.
I’ve been working on this code day and night.”

“
Busy.”

Lloyd didn’t blame him for being short.
Proved his supposition, to a point, but he needed a little more.
“You coming by tonight? I’m getting close to breaking this
thing.”

“
Naw, man. Road tripping.
Something for the uncle. I’m gone till tomorrow night. Maybe later.
Meet you then?”

Damn fucker was already running, he could
feel it in the short, choppy way Ethan spoke. “When do you want to
meet?”

“
Don’t exactly know. How
about I call you?”

Lloyd stalled for a minute. “Sure. Sure.” He
listened to the whine of wheels flying down a highway. “Where in
the hell are you going, anyway? Thought you were all hot and
bothered about this Lindsay deal?”

“
Fuck you. Uncle Alan asked
me to pick something up in Galveston and offered to pay me. I’ll
call when I get back.”

The line went dead. So much for
conversation.

At least, he had a working theory and a
recording of the conversation. He made one more call, waking up a
friend from work, and asked him to meet him at the diner across the
street from the police department.

“
Are you sure you want to do
this?” Don asked him.

“
I don’t really have a
choice,” Lloyd told him. Don Step was a friend from law school, one
of the top graduates, and he’d taken a job at the Legal Aid office
to get some real-time experience before moving to his father’s
firm. He was smart and cautious, just what Lloyd needed.

“
With the information you
have, we can try to make a deal. How involved were you in the
robbery at the office?”

“
I watched the back door
while everyone else went inside. And I represented John Kent and
Bill Faar when they were arrested after the burglary.”

“
The one you participated
in? That’s not going to go well with the court or with the
Bar.”

“
I know. Don, all I’m asking
for is break. I royally screwed up, but, man, Ethan has gone off
the deep end with this shit.”

Don leaned back in the booth, his eyes
tracking the room behind him, and Lloyd’s neck itched to turn
around, wondering if Don set him up. Too late to worry about it
now, though.

“
He owes a lot of money to a
loan shark. Don’t know who or how much, but I know he’s running
now. I think he saw the girl’s bank account and decided it was
easier than his other options. But that’s just a guess.”

Don tipped his head to the side and his lower
lip flowered out like he was working it over in his head. “Okay,
maybe. Well, you ready to do this?”

“
No, but I have
to.”

* * * *

Steve’s phone vibrated in his pocket. He
started to ignore it, knowing he was already behind schedule on
this job and all of his employees were working with phones off, but
he didn’t want to let a call from Dena go to voicemail.

The contact info was Mark’s.

Just as important, since he had contacts all
over the state. “Tell me.”

“
A friend downtown just
called. Someone walked in this morning and identified the man from
the ATM. Ethan Jenkins.”

“
Do we know him? Name sounds
familiar.”

“
He’s a member, one of
Connor’s relatives. And he was at the opening.”

Steve’s fist clenched at his side. “How much
you want to bet that’s who Dena saw?”

“
There’s more. You alone?”
Mark asked.

“
Give me a minute.” He
walked out of the building and leaned against a shade tree. “What
else?”

“
The dead girl was in bad
shape, and we might take some flak from it. Seems Connor’s nephew
played rough. Multiple penetration and strangulation before he
cleaned out her bank accounts.”

“
Son of a bitch. That won’t
be in the papers, will it?” He’d do his best to keep Dena from
hearing about her friend’s last minutes. Fucking psychopath was in
their club on opening night. Holy shit.

Chapter 19

The last two weeks had been horrendous. Sara
was gone, Susan and their parents were devastated, and everyone she
knew was grieving. She’d been unable to connect with Steve since
the funeral three days ago. The thought of being aroused and
enjoying the moment made her ill. He’d been kind. Understanding, to
a point, but she knew it was wearing on him. He wanted to hold her
and have sex when all she could feel was cold sadness.

She’d run him out of her kitchen, needing
some time alone to think about things. Just things. Nothing
specific, because her brain hadn’t been capable of much for days.
As long as she kept her hands busy, she was fine. Sitting around
drove her crazy and that was all Steve wanted.

He wanted to hold her. Comfort her.

Sooner or later, she’d have to either allow
it or force him to go home. Reluctantly, she made one more swipe at
the already dry counter and left the dishcloth on the island. She
tried on a smile and went into the living room.

He patted the spot next to him on the sofa
and she went to him, hoping she could thaw enough to respond. Maybe
a little cuddle would help. It couldn’t hurt, and she needed
something, just couldn’t figure out what.

His arm wrapped around her waist and he
pulled her in close and kissed her temple. He’d been wonderful when
everything fell apart for Susan, and she appreciated the way he
handled so many things for her friends. Steve Gladston was an ace,
a wonderful man with deep empathy for his fellow man. But he had
his rough spots. Demanding. Controlling. Fiercely sensual.

When they’d first met, she wanted all those
things in a man. Now, she wasn’t so sure.

The show he had on stopped as the news broke
in with an update.

A sharply dressed woman with short black hair
sat at a desk. “As we’ve reported earlier, an arrest in the murder
of Sara Henley was made in Galveston ten days ago. The suspect,
Ethan Jenkins is being transported from Galveston to a Dallas jail
today. We’ll show his transfer into the system when he arrives, but
for now, we have some background information to share.”

Dena leaned against Steve’s chest,
comfortable for the first time in a while, and tried to let go of
the pain. Every time the news came on, there was something about
the murder. “Can’t they just leave it alone?” she said into his
chest.

He held her tightly to him, his hand soft on
her while he stroked from shoulder to hip and back. “It’s their
job, sweetheart. They don’t have anything else to do.”

“
Ethan Jenkins is the nephew
of Senator Alan Connor, and both men are members of several BDSM
clubs where women are often the victims of men interested in
inflicting pain. As we reported earlier, the woman Jenkins is
accused of murdering was with him the night she died. Cause of
death has been attributed to an overdose of a date rape drug and
violent sexual activity, including strangulation. Jenkins was
arrested attempting to board a cruise ship out of the Port of
Galveston using forged paperwork. He is en route to the Dallas Jail
at the moment and we’ll have more information as it comes into the
newsroom.”

“
Oh, God, is that true?” She
lifted her head but his expression was blank. Emotionless. He’d
known, but hadn’t told her. Anxiety spread through her chest and
made her wonder what else he hid from her.

“
He was the man you
recognized at the opening, the man from your car accident. I
thought you’d put it together.”

“
No. I didn’t realize he was
the one. I wish you’d said something.”

“
I’m sorry, baby. We haven’t
been doing a very good job of communicating lately.” He stroked her
hair and tucked a stray lock behind one ear. “You don’t want to
know all the details, doll. Murder’s never pretty, and it’s best to
leave some things buried with the victim.”

“
She was my
friend.”

He pressed a kiss to her brow. “I know, and I
know how you feel, but nothing can change what happened to her.
Keep the happy memories you have, the fun times, and let go of the
way it ended.”

“
No, you don’t know how I
feel. My best friend since elementary school is dead. I miss her. I
can’t help but think that if I wasn’t so busy with you, I’d have
known she was involved with someone dangerous. I could’ve protected
her.” She pushed her body away from his and sat at the other end of
the sofa. “She was important to me.”

“
Dena.”

God, that deep, dominant voice was more than
she wanted to handle right now. He’d invaded every part of her soul
and her life and now he wanted to control how she felt.

“
I think you should go
home.”

“
You don’t need to be alone,
sweetheart. I worry about you.”

She scrambled to her feet and stood her
ground, holding fast to the tears threatening to break through. “I
need some time to work through this, Steve. Please respect my
wishes.”

He stayed where he was on the sofa, one knee
pressed against the backrest, and his empty boots on the floor
beneath the coffee table. “Dena, come sit with me. Let me take care
of you.” Quietly spoken words, but the dominance was still
present.

“
Purple.” His brows dropped
and a wrinkle formed above the bridge of his nose. She knew what he
was thinking. She’d used her safeword.

“
We’re not at the club,
Dena.” The low voice, the rumble of power. Chill bumps popped up on
her skin. “Talk to me, doll.” Defiance wasn’t a game in his world,
but she wasn’t playing a game.

She’d never pushed him away. Never said no to
anything he asked of her.

“
Dena, what are you
doing?”

Holding her breath, she waited for more of a
response to her request. Would he leave or argue?

Or would he force her into submission?

The television blared, the news interrupting
again, and her eyes were drawn to the man in the center of the
screen. Tall, athletic, handsome, except for the words he shouted
at the camera.

“
We were dating and she knew
the score. She wanted it hard. Begged me for more. I didn’t know
she was doing drugs. I never saw her take anything, but she always
drank wine when we went out. I didn’t kill her, I
swear.”

The lump in her throat broke loose and a sob
escaped. Steve came to his feet with a growl and came to her, but
she backed into the wall and pushed out her hands. “Please, don’t
hurt me. Please, just go. I want you to go.”

“
Dena, I’ll never hurt you,
I swear. I would never touch you in anger. Never.”

Her voice wasn’t all there, but she still
managed a few words. His face went from splotchy red to paper white
while he put his boots on and scooped up his keys. Her whole body
shook while his eyes bored into hers.

“
Dena, baby, please. I don’t
want to leave you like this.”

“
Just get out of my house,”
she whispered.

Lips a thin line, he opened the door. “Will
you at least come lock up after I leave?” He stared for a long
time, an age of time waiting between them, and then she gave him a
nod. She knew in her heart he’d be listening for the bolt, so she
took care of it, leaning her head on the door’s panel. A thump told
her he’d done the same. She could almost hear him breathing, and
words whispered through the door.

“
Dammit, Dena. Don’t give up
on me. On us. I love you.”

It took a long time before she heard his
truck start, and even longer before she turned off the lights and
crawled into her empty bed.

“
I love you, too,” she
whispered into the empty space next to her. He’d never said those
words before tonight, but they’d been on the tip of her tongue more
than once. So many times, she’d wanted to give them to him, and not
during sex.

But sex was too much a part of their time
together. She’d jumped into bed with him for the adventure and
found something exceedingly more intense than his BDSM
lifestyle.

It scared the hell out of her.

Friday rolled around. Again. And the thought
of spending another weekend sequestered in her house made her
squeamish. Steve’s texts had slowed to once or twice a day, and
he’d sent flowers twice, timing them so that the florist could pick
up the wilted ones when he left fresh roses. She was on the verge
of calling him when her cell rang.