Mine to Hold

Page 35

Del had no idea where or what that was, but she figured she could find it. “Sure.”
“Come alone,” he warned.
“I’ll be bringing a . . .” She stared at Tyler, trying to decide what to call him. She didn’t really want to define her complicated love life for a stranger. “Friend.”
Tyler’s expression didn’t change, but he froze. Then he looked away.
Damn, she’d upset him.
“He better not be a cop,” Esteban challenged. “Or there are consequences, you know?”
“He doesn’t even live in this area.” Del didn’t mention that Tyler used to be an LAPD Vice detective. At this point, she had to pray that they’d never seen him before or Esteban was likely to cut her cold.
Esteban let it go. “Wear tight jeans and red shoes. You look hermosa, yeah?”
Del thought that meant “pretty.” “I’ll try.”
“Order wine at the bar. You’ll stick out for sure.” He laughed.
But she feared the joke was on her. Still, she didn’t have much choice but to agree.
As soon as she hung up, Tyler frowned. “I don’t like it.”
“I don’t, either, but what are our more appealing options?” She shrugged. “None. Until midnight, I need to keep working. Let me see the computer, please.”
Tyler stepped away, letting her sit. The seat was warm, and his scent lingered everywhere, soothing her, even as her thoughts whirled and she longed to throw herself into his arms. Instead, she forced herself to concentrate on the task at hand.
“I need to send an untraceable e-mail. Any idea how?”
“Why?”
“I need to test Preston and find out if I can trust him. If my boss is at all in league with Carlson, I’d rather know it now than when it’s too late.
“Untraceable e-mails aren’t my area of expertise, but I know someone who can help.” Tyler called Deke. In less than five minutes, Deke had walked them through the process. Tyler gestured in her direction. “Type away.”
Quickly, she began composing an e-mail to her boss. Then stopped. “I need to talk to Xander.”
Tyler looked like he really wanted to object.
“It’s urgent,” Del assured.
With a curse, he handed over his phone. She flipped through the numbers and found the record that said PRIVATE CALLER. When she dialed, Xander answered on the first ring.
“Everything okay, Tyler?”
“It’s Delaney. If I wanted to . . . misdirect someone who might be playing for the dirty team to somewhere in town that’s being watched and has security, where would that be?”
“Cautious little cat, aren’t you? I like that,” he drawled. “Jot this address down. It’s a warehouse I own. Round-the-clock surveillance with state-of-the-art equipment. Logan and his brother, Hunter, made sure of that.”
“Perfect. Thanks! I owe you.”
“Hmm. Careful, or I might come around to collect.”
Tyler ripped the phone from her hand. “Over my dead fucking body. Back the hell off.”
With a laugh, Xander hung up.
Del rolled her eyes as she typed quickly. “He only does it to annoy you. It doesn’t mean anything to him.”
With a snort, Tyler sat on the edge of the desk and stewed.
She put the warehouse’s address in the e-mail to Preston, claiming that’s where she was hiding, then asked about any information he might have on Lisa’s murder. All done, she hit send. If he or a group of thugs showed up at the warehouse instead of answering via e-mail, she’d know that Preston was dirty. Now, all she could do was prepare for the coming night and hope that her upcoming chat with Esteban was the big break she needed.
***
TYLER hated this whole plan. Going to visit a gangbanger on his home turf when they had no idea what they were walking into? Something like suicide, he feared. But no, he didn’t have a better idea. While Del showered, he had to fucking call Xander again because Del didn’t have any red shoes, and it was too risky to walk into a well-lit public place to shop. There’d be a lot of security cameras there. And who knew how many dirty cops Carlson had and if their beats included the mall?
He managed to force another few bites of food into Del before he hopped in the shower and readied himself for the meeting to come. He’d feel better with firepower and backup, but that wasn’t in the cards. Then Xander rang the doorbell.
Tyler pulled it open to find the man dressed casually in jeans and a clearly designer shirt. He dangled a pair of red fuck-me peep-toe pumps in one hand and had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“Thanks for picking the shoes up.” Tyler reached out to take them.
“Not so fast.” Xander stepped into the house. “Javier is so predictable it’s making my head hurt. He was a complete disaster at Látigo. We’ll try again tomorrow night. In the meantime, you’re my ticket out of boredom.”
“You think you’re coming with us?”
“Yes.” Xander smiled wide. “I have experience with Desnuda and the guys who roll there. I can help. And I come bearing gifts.” He held out the shoes.
Del walked down the hall just then and grabbed them. “Oh my God, they’re beautiful.”
“They’re Christian Louboutin. Enjoy!”
“These are crazy expensive. Did you just have these hanging around?” Del frowned.
“No. I shopped. I tried to imagine the shoes you’d look sexiest in naked and bent over—”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” Tyler growled.
Xander just laughed. “I brought you presents, too. Happy birthday.”
“My birthday is in September.” Tyler gritted his teeth.
“Then happy fuck-off day.” Xander shoved the duffel bag in his midsection.
As Tyler grasped it, the metallic sounds of the jostling contents told him immediately what lay inside. “Hardware.”
“A lot of it. A nice collection of semiautomatics, a sniper rifle or two, a few hand grenades—though I hope it doesn’t come to that since Desnuda is a decent club—and even a Corner Shot.”
Tyler gaped. As much as Xander got on his nerves, Tyler kind of loved the guy in that moment. “Wow, money really does buy everything.”
“Mostly.” Xander shrugged. “The rest . . . I’m still figuring out how to get.”
Unable to imagine anything Xander lacked or wanted for, Tyler shrugged. “Are we ready?”
Del nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready to go anywhere in shoes this fabulous. Thank you so much.”
She closed the distance between her and Xander and placed a kiss on his cheek. Xander wrapped his arm around her waist, looking like he hoped to bring her in for a big, juicy kiss. Tyler wasn’t having any of that.
He grabbed Xander’s shoulder, pinched hard on the nerve, then slammed him back into the front door. “Straight up? I appreciate your help, and we wouldn’t be doing this well without you. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let you touch my woman.” Tyler got in the other man’s face and forced him to meet his stare. “Are we clear?”
“Tyler! Stop!” Del insisted, gaping at him in shock.
“That you’re a caveman? Absolutely. She’ll come to her senses soon and find me irresistible.” Xander shrugged free and winked at her.
Gritting his teeth, Tyler let him go. If not, he’d risk really pissing Del off. And given the bastard’s grin, Xander knew it.
“I’ve got a car outside,” the billionaire said. “Let’s go.”
Tyler slung the bag over his shoulder, then grabbed Del’s hand. Following Xander, they made their way out into the night air. It was crisp and light, with a hint of a cool breeze. Xander stopped beside a sleek black Audi so new it didn’t yet have license plates and opened the door for Del.
She bypassed the open door and climbed in the back. Tyler grinned as he slung the duffel onto the floorboard and eased into the passenger’s seat where Xander proffered the door open.
“Shithead,” he muttered, and slammed the door.
Within minutes, they were off, heading out of the hills and down into a seedy part of town. Clusters of older homes merged with liquor stores and pawnshops, flashing lights, ladies of the night, and drug deals going down everywhere. They parked in a shadowed lot behind an old stucco building. As Tyler tucked a couple of the Glocks into his waistband at the small of his back, he watched Del. He didn’t like the dark surrounding them or the cautious, tense expression on her face. Xander didn’t seem to notice as he grabbed a pistol, tucked it away, and led them around the side of the building, to the front door, painted a garish red. Tyler glanced behind him and stared at the club’s sign, then winced at the neon dancing woman edging red panties down over her ass.
This wasn’t a nightclub; it was a strip joint.
Xander stopped them before they could enter. “I’m going to walk in first, get the lay of the land. They’ve seen me here before, so I won’t stand out. If there’s anything wrong. I’ll call. If you haven’t heard from me in five minutes, the coast is clear.”
As much as Tyler wanted to object, the plan made sense. Del nodded.
The minute Xander disappeared inside, Tyler wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her into the shadows, just in case Lobato Loco had sold her out, too. He wished he could tell her that they didn’t have to do this, but that would be a lie. Her life literally depended on this, and there was no way around it until they could prove how dirty Carlson was.
Del stood stiffly against him. “I’m way out of my element. I don’t like it.”
“I’m here for you. I’ll keep you safe.”
Gnawing on her lip, Del nodded. She looked so nervous, and Tyler just wanted to wrap her up and hide her away. It wasn’t in the cards.
After five minutes, they hadn’t heard from Xander, so Tyler led her into the club. It wasn’t upscale in the least, and he wondered why a billionaire came here for kicks. The music was loud, and everything smelled steeped in alcohol, with a slight tinge of musty underneath. A pretty Latina woman danced on the stage, wearing only a spangled thong. She dragged a sheer red scarf back and forth, across her hard, rosy brown nipple. Seen it, fucked it. Not this particular woman, but after a while, women like her were all the same.
Rolling her eyes, Del eased over to the bar and ordered a white wine. The bartender looked at her like she was crazy, but shrugged and poured her a glass. She looked around the room then and spotted Xander, who looked engrossed in the journey that red scarf was taking around the stripper’s body.
Tyler approached her, and he felt Del’s tension as she scanned the room for her contact. He glanced at his cell phone. They were still a few minutes early. Maybe Lobato Loco wanted to make a big entrance.
“We should sit toward the front, someplace visible so he sees you when he comes in.”
Del clearly didn’t like it, but she nodded. Together they found a table in the front corner of the room. She crossed her legs, and those red shoes were like a beacon in the club. No way any man entering could miss those long, slender thighs and those shoes so provocative, they were an X-rated invitation all their own. Tyler sat closer to her, threw an arm around her shoulders, wanting every bastard in the joint to know exactly who she belonged to. Behind them, he could almost feel Xander laughing.
Five minutes slid into ten. The woman with the scarf was replaced by a naughty nurse, then a cowgirl who made chaps look downright indecent. A few years ago—hell, two weeks ago—he would have grinned and whistled, coughed up a twenty, and hoped for a little action later. And how fucking pathetic was that? He’d been using sex like a drug so he didn’t have to confront how lonely he’d been without Del.
At the twenty-minute mark, Del had finished sipping her wine and was looking around for her contact. Still nothing—except the painted-up beauty who’d wielded the scarves earlier headed in their direction. She wriggled her curves in between him and Del.
Then she straddled his lap with a lascivious smile.
Del backed away, her brows raised and her mouth open with annoyance. The dancer thrust her breasts in his face and wriggled down on his lap. Tyler reared back and closed his eyes. This had to be Xander’s work, and he was going to throttle the asshole.
He grabbed the dancer by the hips. It took him a few moments to stop all her gyrations and unplaster her from his chest. Undaunted, she grabbed his face and smothered his mouth with her too-red lips.
Tyler wrenched away. “I’ll give you a hundred bucks just to go away.”
She paused. Her come-hither glance fell away, then she shrugged and held out her hand. Snarling, he pulled bills out of his pocket and thrust them into the dancer’s hand. “The guy who hired you? He’s loaded. Absolutely stinking rich.”
The dancer smiled wide, then planted another kiss on Tyler’s mouth, this time in gratitude. He pushed her away again and set her off his lap with a grimace. God, she smelled like booze and sweat and other men. He’d done a hundred girls who smelled just like her, and it had never bothered him before. But it bugged the shit out of him now, and he knew the cause: Del.