Trouble in Tampa (9 page)

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Authors: Nicole Williams

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: Trouble in Tampa

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“What you call life-saving I call life-spying,” I replied.

“Whatever you call it, you can’t deny that that microchip did, in fact, save your life.”

“My life wasn’t in danger.”

Henry’s eyes ran up and down me again. They narrowed as he took in my face. “And what you call not in danger, I call getting beaten to the point of camping out on death’s doorstep.”

He was right, of course, but I’d never admit that. Time to change the subject. “So what happened after I blacked out? Do you know?” I found the bed remote and raised the head of it so I was somewhere between sitting up and lying down.

“
Before
you blacked out, I’d already located you thanks to my laptop being glued to my hip everywhere I go, including the bathroom—”

“Eww, you were in the bathroom during all of that?” I curled my nose.

Henry rolled his eyes. “I’m exaggerating to make a point, Eve. Roll with me, okay?”

“I’ll roll with you, just so long as it isn’t into the bathroom.”

He groaned. “Once I’d located you, I had one of my colleagues call the emergency system in the Tampa area to alert them that you needed help, along with where you were.”

“So the ambulance showed up, rushed me to the hospital, and then we all lived happily ever after?” I scanned the room. If that was anything close to what HEA looked like, pass me the hemlock. “How long have I been unconscious?”

Henry gave my hand a gentle squeeze. “About two days.”

Knocked unconscious for two days?!
Rob Tucker had just made enemies with the single most spiteful person on the continent. I could do revenge like he could swing his fist.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had a crazy week filled with meetings and negotiations and Korean BBQ.” I knew having Henry beside me should have been the opposite of comforting, but there was nothing else I needed more right then.

“Some things are business, and some things are
important
,” he answered.

“For a man like you, don’t those two things go hand in hand?”

His eyes locked onto mine. My heart picked up its pace, which I promptly attributed to the drugs. “I’m here with you now, aren’t I? Does that answer your question?” he asked.

Things were as convoluted as they had ever been between Henry and me. Nice to see some things stay the same—insert sarcasm here.

“Thanks for being here,” I said, working a smile into place.

He matched his smile to mine. “Where else could I be?”

Of course that would be the instant Mrs. Callahan came to mind. Somewhere out there was a woman wearing a wedding ring the man beside me had given her. Somewhere out there was a woman who’d hired me to seduce the man beside me so she could be free of him. Somewhere out there was a woman who wanted to leave Henry Callahan like I’d wanted to.

I wondered if Mrs. Callahan would be more successful than I had.

“I’m going to rest, I think. I’m pretty exhausted.” My smile shifted into a fake one as my hand went cold. My heart might still react to Henry, but my brain knew the score. My mind would never forget what he’d done, or the reason I’d been reintroduced into his life, or why revenge should always be on the tip of my tongue when I thought of Henry Callahan.

Rising, Henry leaned over me and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. His lips should have felt like ice . . . but they felt warm. “I’ll be in the waiting room when you wake up.” His eyes stayed on me as he headed for the door.

Only when he’d closed it was I able to take a breath. I was in bad shape, mentally and physically. A Target had been responsible for nearly killing me. Another Target was responsible for saving me. One Target I loathed more than I’d ever hated another person. The other Target was one I had to convince myself to hate, despite feeling quite the opposite.

And damn it, what was I going to tell G? The thought of it all made me as tired as I’d just tried to convince Henry I was. Lowering my bed, I curled into my pillow to fall asleep, hoping some of the
what-nows
would have been magically answered when I awoke.

I’d just closed my eyes when the door opened. I smiled, keeping my eyes closed. “What did you forget?”

“To tell you that the reason I do the things I do is because I care about you.”

My eyes flashed open, my body curling inward to protect itself. I instructed myself to stay calm, to keep my breathing even and my face strong, but I wasn’t sure if I was up to staying calm and strong when Rob Tucker got closer to me with every confident step. He had an overflowing bouquet of flowers in one hand, a large teddy bear in the other—the bandaged one from the file I’d unleashed on him—and a smile like he was congratulating his wife on giving birth to their firstborn.

“You have an unusual way of showing someone you care about them.” My voice sounded almost as scared as I felt. That wouldn’t work. I couldn’t be scared. I wouldn’t let a man like Rob Tucker reduce me to fear and cowering.

“But look at you now, sweetheart,” he said proudly, setting the bouquet on the nightstand before tucking in the bear beside me. “I can already see on your face and hear in your voice that you’re showing me more of the proper respect and reverence I deserve. I didn’t hit you because I wanted to. I hit you because I had to. You needed to understand your role in this, as well as mine.” After arranging a few of the flowers, he looked at me with a wide smile.

He was
proud
. He was looking at me as if I was his child who’d just taken her first steps. He was pleased with the way our relationship was progressing . . . because laying a woman out so badly she was unconscious in the hospital for two days was the pinnacle of progress.

Rob Tucker had some seriously fucked up views on relationships.

I had two options. I could lash back at him with my words and fists like I was twitching to do—right before pressing the nurse call button and screaming bloody murder. That option was appealing in just about every way possible.

The second option was trickier. Much trickier. I could play along with him in his twisted game. I’d have to play the beaten “girl” he’d pulled the spine right out of, and play pantomime in this sick relationship game. If I played along, I could free Mrs. Tucker and exact a sharper revenge on Rob Tucker. If I played the part of a weak woman, I could come out the other end as the strongest one he’d ever met.

Option one was instant gratification and so appealing. Option two would take time and dedication and couldn’t be executed overnight. Continuing with the Errand would mean working two of the most difficult and intricate Errands of my career. Option two could also mean death. The man grinning at me had made it clear he had no qualms about beating me close to death, and I didn’t doubt he’d finish where he’d left off if he deemed me stepping out of line again.

It was dangerous. It was daunting. It was like playing a game of tug-of-war with death.

It was everything I was cut out for.

“Thank you, Mr. Tucker,” I said softly, sweetly. I matched my smile to my tone. “Thank you for showing me what my role is.”

And thank you for reminding me that my role is to not rest until you have been totally and irreversibly fucked over in every way a man like you can be.

“You’re my girl now.” He grabbed my hand, and I couldn’t help but compare the difference between his and Henry’s touch. They were like night and day. “I’ll take care of you if you take care of me.”

I kept my smirk to myself and glanced at him, keeping my fake smile in place. “I’ll take care of you, Mr. Tucker. Guaranteed.”