One Touch More (6 page)

If Damien hadn't stepped in . . . God, she didn't even want to think about what might have happened. Tabitha was still shaking when she fastened her seat belt. It took two tries to get the key in the ignition and she didn't know what had her more rattled: her encounter with Tony or the effect of Damien's close proximity.

By the time she pulled out of the parking lot, Tabitha was fairly sure she could drive home without getting in a wreck. If Damien could shake a woman up by touching her hair, she could only imagine what skin-on-skin contact would do. A quick ten minutes—thanks to the streetlight gods—saw her home, parked, and ready to call it a night.

“Hey, I saved you some pizza.” Seth was sitting on her couch, flipping through channels with a can of soda balanced on his knee. “What took you so long? Didn't you get off work like an hour ago?”

It wasn't that she minded having her younger brother as a roommate. In fact, with Seth's penchant for getting into trouble, she could keep an eye on him better if he was under her roof. But tonight was one of those nights that Tabitha would have appreciated a little solitude to decompress. Her mind was racing with too many thoughts for casual conversation.

“How'd you pay for the pizza?” It sucked that it was the first thing she was prompted to ask. But she knew that Seth didn't have three dollars, let alone thirty bucks.

He gave her a bright smile. “As of today, I'm officially and gainfully employed. The guy who owns Les Bois Construction, Jack, gave me a hundred-dollar draw to buy work boots.”

“And you ran straight over to Flying Pie and bought a pizza?”

“No.” Seth rolled his eyes and hiked up a pant leg. “I bought these first. On sale. Then I bought the pizza. Because I'm a boss at money management.”

The boots were nice, but he should have used the thirty bucks he'd saved for pizza for a higher-quality shoe. She wasn't going to lecture him about it, though. Seth hadn't worn many bright smiles in the past couple of years. And if she was going to keep him on the right track, he needed Tabitha's encouragement, not her disdain.

“Pretty fancy for work boots.” She grinned. “When do you start?”

“Tomorrow,” he said through a mouthful of pizza. “I also went over to BSU today and talked with an admissions counselor.”

“Really?” She hadn't meant to sound so shocked, but she would have simply been happy to see Seth enroll in a nine-month tech course.

“Yeah. I mean, I still don't know what I want to do, but I thought I could apply for spring semester and figure it out in the meantime.”

“That's awesome, Seth.” They were only two years apart in age, but most of the time Tabitha felt more like a mother than a big sister. “I can help you with the financial aid stuff if you want. I bet you'd qualify for a few grants, too.”

“All under control, sister.” Seth tossed a sliver of crust into the pizza box, his gaze focused on the pepperoni, bacon, and mushroom pie. “I know I've been a major fuck-up. And you got my ass out of trouble when you probably shouldn't have. I just want you to know that I'm ready to put all of that behind me. And I don't want you to feel like you have to take care of me anymore.”

Tabitha plopped down on the couch beside him and ruffled his blond hair that was just a little shorter than hers. “You're not a fuck-up, Seth. You've just made some bad choices. And I don't feel like I have to take care of you.”

“Did you notice I didn't get any peppers on the pizza?”

She smiled. “I did. You're so considerate.”

Seth nodded solemnly. “Considerate is my middle name. And I
really
wanted peppers, too.”

Tabitha selected a narrow slice from the half of the round that was still left. She leaned back on the couch and propped her feet up on the coffee table. Seth settled in beside her and resumed his channel surfing.

“So, how was work? Anything interesting happen in the land of guest services today?”

A flush crept over Tabitha's skin as she recalled the heat in Damien's golden eyes as he'd swept the hair from her face. The sheer maleness of him as he'd jerked Tony away from her and slammed him against her car and the roll of his muscles as he'd walked away from her. “Same old, same old,” Tabitha replied after a moment. “Just another glamorous day of reservations at the IdaHaven Inn.”

Seth laughed. “One more semester and it won't matter, right? You can kiss that place good-bye and go work at a hospital and torture people with your cold stethoscope.”

Tabitha let out a chuff of breath. She'd never let Seth know the truth. That if Joey had anything to say about it, she'd never leave that hotel. “That's the plan.”

For once, she wished that life could be that simple.

Chapter Six

Damien collapsed on the bed, ready to put this miserable night behind him. For the past three hours, he'd been reliving his time in the parking lot with Tabitha. His fingertips still tingled where they touched her hair.
You stupid, impulsive bastard
.

He hadn't intended to touch her. Fuck, he barely knew her. And she'd just barely fended off that asshole Tony's unwanted attention when he'd reached for her. His gut clenched at the thought of how her gaze had warmed. And whereas she'd cringed away from Tony, he could have sworn that she'd leaned into his touch.

And goddamn it, her hair had been just as soft as he'd imagined. Like corn silk. His eyes drifted shut, and Damien didn't even bother to turn off the lights as sleep weighed down his limbs. All he felt like doing lately was sleep. Probably a sign of depression. Oh fucking well . . .

A knock at the door squashed any hope of oblivion and Damien dragged his ass out of bed. He'd crossed the last guy off his list of “appointments” about a half hour ago. From the dresser, he retrieved his Beretta and held it at the ready as he checked through the peephole in the door. On the other side, Joey Cavello stared at the screen of his phone, his expression pinched and impatient. Checking up on him, huh?

“'Sup?” Damien swung the door open wide and tucked his piece into the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back.

Joey strode through the door and took a quick look around as though trying to catch Damien doing something he shouldn't. As tonight was his first night on the job, Damien didn't blame him for being suspicious. “A buddy of mine did some checking up on you tonight, Evans. Found some pretty interesting shit.”

Adrenaline shot through Damien's bloodstream and his muscles bunched in anticipation of a fight. The Marshals Service had done a pretty good job of burying his real identity, but hackers could be crafty. If Joey knew a good one, there was no telling what he might have found. “Oh yeah? And what's that?”

“Said you were arrested a few months back with a bunch of Mexican arms dealers. That right?”

To protect his undercover persona, Damien had been arrested along with Teyo Sousa and his crew as they were getting ready to take possession of a dirty bomb near the Port of Seattle. He had a fake criminal record a mile long, and his colleagues never seemed to tire of throwing the cuffs on him. Their entertainment was a hard-core pain in the ass for Damien. “Yeah, that's right,” he replied with a shrug of one shoulder.

“You must know some heavy hitters to get out of that shit. 'Cuz I bet none of those other guys are out walking around like you are.”

True. Sousa and his associates wouldn't be seeing the light of day anytime soon. “I do.” Again, said as though it was no big deal.

Joey looked him over, a smirk pulling at his thin lips. “I knew taking you on would be a good move. C'mon, I need some help tonight and Tony flaked out on me.”

Bastard was probably in a flophouse somewhere coming down from his high. Things were progressing quicker than he'd expected, which in some cases could be considered a bad thing. Since he didn't consider Joey stupid by any stretch of the imagination, he had to be suspicious of his motives for trusting him so easily. He'd thrown him into the deep end of his business without batting a lash, and now he was taking him out as backup for God knew what. Not that Damien wasn't pleased. But he wasn't interested in taking a bullet to the skull anytime soon, either. “Sure. What do you need?”

“I'm picking up a delivery. Some assholes from a syndicate out of Nampa tried to jump us last time, and I'm not putting up with that bullshit tonight.”

And no doubt Lightfoot would find someone else to work with if Joey couldn't keep his house in order. “You think there's going to be trouble? If that's the case, you might want to take more than me along.” It showed the low level of criminal Joey Cavello was that he wasn't taking an armed entourage along to pick up tonight's shipment. Which made Damien more than a little twitchy. You'd think they were going to the grocery store to pick up a gallon of milk or some shit, not a half million dollars in narcotics. The kid was clueless.

Joey snorted. “I take a big motherfucker like you along, ain't
no one
gonna fuck with me.”

Jesus. Damien was big, but he wasn't Superman. It was his reputation that backed up his size, though, and Cavello knew that. Damien wondered how much Joey's competition from the neighboring city would care.

“Don't be so sure.” He tucked the suitcase with the rest of the product under the bed and grabbed the Do Not Disturb sign to hang on the door. He led the way out and Joey followed him. “I'm down, though. Am I good to leave my luggage in the room? I don't want anything happening to it.”

“You're good,” Joey remarked. “As long as that door hanger's up, no one will go in. Tabs runs a tight ship and everyone knows that when my crew is staying the weekend, they don't like to be disturbed. And it's in her best interest to keep me happy.”

The threat inherent in Joey's tone made Damien want to beat the fucker to the ground. His statement was yet another indicator that Tabitha might be helping him under duress, and though it didn't pertain to his assignment in the least, he was bound and determined to get to the bottom of it.

They hopped in Joey's tricked-out Ford F-150 pickup and headed from the downtown area to the outskirts of the city, toward Gowen Field. Several shipping companies had their headquarters on the lots that skirted the freeway, and Joey followed Federal Way out to a fenced-in lot with a large warehouse. A sign that read LTC Inc. was hung on a chain-link fence and Joey stopped to enter a code on the automated gate that slid open with several jerks and squeaks of metal.

Questions raised suspicion, and Damien had learned over the course of his undercover assignments that if he kept his eyes open and his mouth shut, he'd learn all he needed to without uttering a single word. Joey flicked his cigarette out the window before rolling it up and drove through the gate toward a large lot full of semitrailers. “The shit's coming down from up north. So far, the state police don't have a clue about what these trucks are really transporting. We're talking high-tech shit. Hidden compartments that the dogs can't even sniff through. It's fucking genius, dude.”

Ingenious, dude
. For every undercover op Damien worked, he felt his IQ drop another notch. “Sweet.” Just to be safe, he'd have to fill Deputy Gates and the chief deputy in, make sure that the Idaho State Police gave the shipping company a wide berth, as well.

“When I started distributing for this guy, I was setting up at the hotel one weekend a month. Now, I'm up to twice a month, and with this shipment, I'll probably have you there every weekend from here on out. This guy is a fucking gold mine. I'm making bank, and if you stick around, I can guarantee you that you'll be pulling in some serious cash.”

What Joey didn't know was that Lightfoot would be pulling his operation out of Idaho soon. And when that happened, he'd leave him high and dry. “You thinking of setting up shop somewhere else? Gotta spread the love, you know what I mean?”

“Nah. Why? I've got a sweet deal at Tabitha's hotel. I'm not gonna catch any heat as long as she's working there, and she's working there until I tell her she's not.”

Damien resisted the urge to pop the asshole in the face as Joey pulled the truck to a stop just inside the yard and flashed his headlights three times. “She used to be your girl, right?” He'd violated his own rule by asking a question, but curiosity burned him from the inside out.

“Yeah,” Joey said in a conspiratorial tone that caused Damien's hackles to rise. “And believe me, I
defiled
her fine ass.”

Damien swallowed down the growl that rose in his throat and traded it for an appreciative snort. “But you're not hittin' that anymore?”

“Tabs likes bad boys, but she wants hers to have more of a conscience. Ain't nobody got time for that shit.”

Joey's statement, coupled with Tony's not-so-gentle reminder to Tabitha that Joey had her brother by the balls, only helped to confirm that there was more to Tabitha's involvement than Damien had first surmised. It was becoming more obvious that she was being coerced, which made him wonder exactly what Joey had on her brother that would convince Tabitha to help him out.

In the distance, a flashlight blinked in the darkness once, twice, and again. Joey opened his car door. “We're on. Let's get the cargo and get the fuck outta here.”

Damien put Tabitha to the back of his mind as he got out of the car and followed Joey. His skin prickled as his senses engaged, fine-tuned to his surroundings and every minute sound that shifted in the distance. It was too damned dark out here. The opportunity for an ambush too perfect. As they approached the three men waiting for them, Damien banished that last bit of concern for Tabitha to the compartment that he stored Parker's sensibilities in.

The exchange was made easily enough. Product was transferred from one of the semitrailers and loaded up into the backseat of Joey's truck. He pulled out of the yard and stopped just outside of the gate to the shipping yard, waiting for it to close behind them, when a disembodied arm reached in through his open window and pointed a gun at Joey's head.

The would-be carjacker leaned in the rest of the way, his face undistinguishable in the darkness. “Both of you fuckers, get out of the truck. Now.”

Obviously Joey's rival dealer wasn't done trying to get his hands on Lightfoot's product. From out of the shadows, the guy's backup approached from behind a souped-up Nissan. The car was running, but the lights were off. Damien couldn't see much past the headlights of Joey's truck, but as the dude sidled up to his partner, the light glinted off the chrome of a 9mm clutched in his grip.

Joey eased open his door and climbed down from his seat and Damien tucked his forty close to his hip as he followed suit. They had darkness on their side and with what appeared to be two-against-two odds, Damien had the height and muscle—not to mention the training—that would ensure they got the upper hand.

He kept his stance relaxed as he came around the high front end of Joey's Ford, using the truck's jacked-up height to hide the weapon at his side.

Thug number one jerked his gun in Damien's direction. “Get your ass over here before my patience runs out, asshole.”

The fence to the shipping yard rattled closed and Damien used the momentary distraction to strike. He used the butt of the gun and brought it down on the head of the guy closest to him, knocking him out cold.

Before thug number two could react, he brought his gun up and aimed it at the bastard's head. “You really wanna do this?” he asked. “Just gather up your buddy, back the fuck off, and let us go.”

“Yeah, right.” Thug number two let out a disbelieving bark of laughter. Dude was either incredibly brave or goddamned stupid. “I'm not going anywhere until you hand over the shit you got in the backseat. I didn't come all the way out here to go home empty-handed again.”

Damien lunged in with an elbow and caught the guy under the chin. The gangbanger spun away, his 9mm dropping from his grasp as he slumped to the ground beside his buddy. Small-time gangster bullshit. Damien hated dealing with this petty crap, but at least a clueless thug was easier to take down than a seasoned dealer. Tonight could have easily gone south. Joey was damned lucky.

“Fuck yeah!” Joey shouted as he hopped up into the truck. “You're a certifiable badass, Evans!” Damien hustled back to his side of the truck and hopped in. Joey threw the truck into gear and peeled out onto Federal Way, the tires squealing in his haste. “Damn, am I glad I brought you with me tonight.”

Damien stowed his gun and rolled down the window to let the chill wind cool his heated face. Funny, none of what he'd just done made him feel like a badass.

 

 

Why
had she agreed to a blind date? Or even a double date, for that matter? Lila was chatting up a storm with Charlie, the guy she'd met at Liquid a couple of weeks ago. They'd been going strong since that night, and now Tabitha was being forced to endure small talk with Charlie's friend—what in the
hell
was his name again? Josh?—while Lila seductively fed her date calamari from across the table. Ugh.

“So you're a nurse?”

“I'm sorry, what?” Tabitha dragged her eyes from the spectacle of Lila feeding Charlie and turned her attention back to her date.

He flashed her a knowing smile, as though watching her friend behave like a horny vixen was turning her on or something. Gross. “I said that Lila mentioned you were a nurse.”

“I'm still in school.” She reached for her wineglass and drained it in a couple of swallows.
Where in the hell is the waiter when you need him?
“I just finished up the current semester and I'm about to start my clinical rotations in a month.”

“Cool. So, if I passed out, could you do mouth-to-mouth on me?”

It took all of the self-control she could muster not to roll her eyes. “Only if you stopped breathing,” she said, refusing to take his bait.

Josh deflated a little but continued in his valiant attempt to make small talk. “Do you want to take care of babies or work in a swanky downtown clinic?”

She opted to ignore his veiled misogyny. “My specialty is going to be trauma. I want to work in the ER.”

“Triage.” Ooh, Josh was throwing down the twenty-five-cent words now. “Right?”

“You've got it.”