Tough Love
Page 124
Finally Phil said, “I don’t believe you.”
Stack would agree, except in a twisted, illogical way, it made sense. Now Vanity just needed to convince Phil, to keep control of the scene.
To protect herself until he got there.
“Stay,” Vanity cajoled. “Stay and I’ll tell the cops everything I know. They’ll understand that Whitney conspired a lot of this. Stay, and I’ll give you the two grand to start over. But you have to talk to the cops, you have to tell them what you know.”
She wanted Phil to help indict Whitney? Stack couldn’t imagine Phil being a credible witness, but the PI she’d hired...yeah, that guy was going to come in handy.
In the middle of the turmoil, Stack felt pride. She was, by far, the most amazing person he’d ever known.
“Seriously, Vanity?” A different emotion influenced Phil’s tone. “You’d do that for me?”
Uncertainty now sounded in hers. “Oh, um...yes. Yes, I would. To help Stack. Not to—”
“We’ve gotten along, haven’t we?”
“No! I’ve tolerated you, Phil. That’s all.”
“You like me, I can tell. We clicked, didn’t we?”
Just as Phil’s voice went husky, Vanity’s went shrill. “What are you doing? Get away from me!”
Stack screeched up to the curb, threw the car in Park, and jumped out running. He reached the glass door in time to see Phil corner Vanity. The bastard had one hand clamped on her arm, the other knotted in her long hair, and he was trying to kiss her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IN A MURDEROUS RAGE, Stack stormed in...and saw Vanity bring her knee up to Phil’s jewels. A direct hit. For that one second in time before the pain set in, Phil gaped at her and his hands loosened.
But Vanity wasn’t done. As she’d been taught in the self-defense classes, she used the heel of her hand to bash Phil’s nose. Hands to his balls, his head knocked back, and Phil staggered.
When blood sprayed, Vanity recoiled. “Eewww...”
Phil dropped to his knees.
Stalking in, Stack immediately drew him back up and slammed him against the wall. “You dared to touch her?” He slammed Phil again. “You miserable—”
“Stack!”
He stilled. Not Vanity’s voice, but his sister’s.
Groaning, Stack looked over his shoulder and there stood Tabby, her eyes flared, her mouth pinched.
She was going to be so badly hurt by all this.
Then he glanced at Vanity. She watched him warily, her eyes still red, her lips trembling. She’d been hurt, too.
By him.
Time for him to start mending things, instead of wrecking them. Opening his fingers, Stack released Phil and let him slump down the wall to the floor. One deep breath, then another, and he thought he just might be able to speak coherently.
“He had his hand in his pocket,” Vanity warned. “I don’t know—”
“Got it.” Stack knelt down, frisked Phil and found a bag of pills but no weapons. Shit. He shoved Phil’s face up, and only then did he realize Phil wasn’t all there. “What did you take?”
“Don’t know,” he slurred. “I just needed...something.”
“Courage?” Disgusted, Stack stood and tossed the pills on the countertop. His gaze met Vanity’s.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
And, yeah, that totally blew his cool all over.
Emotions combustible, he reached her in one long stride, drew her in, pressed her head to his shoulder while he gently hugged her. “You’re okay?”
“Yes.” She remained tense in his arms. “You heard everything?”
Over and over, he smoothed his hands along her back. “Yeah. Smart move, leaving the call open like that.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”
Stack lightly kissed her. “You’re unsure about a lot of things, I know.”
Tabby elevated her tone in demand. “What is going on?”
Keeping Vanity close—something she didn’t object to—Stack turned to face Phil. “We thought he was the one hiring goons to come after me, but it was only Phil the first time. After that, it was Whitney calling the shots.”
Exasperated, Tabby rushed over to Phil with a handful of tissues. “I told you Phil wouldn’t do that.” She pressed the tissues to his nose as she took his arm, helping him to stand. “You’re okay?”
Phil nodded, his cagey, bleary gaze on Vanity and Stack.
Stack was about to explain when Tabby gave them both a fierce scowl. “If it was Whitney, then why did you slug Phil?”
Stack would agree, except in a twisted, illogical way, it made sense. Now Vanity just needed to convince Phil, to keep control of the scene.
To protect herself until he got there.
“Stay,” Vanity cajoled. “Stay and I’ll tell the cops everything I know. They’ll understand that Whitney conspired a lot of this. Stay, and I’ll give you the two grand to start over. But you have to talk to the cops, you have to tell them what you know.”
She wanted Phil to help indict Whitney? Stack couldn’t imagine Phil being a credible witness, but the PI she’d hired...yeah, that guy was going to come in handy.
In the middle of the turmoil, Stack felt pride. She was, by far, the most amazing person he’d ever known.
“Seriously, Vanity?” A different emotion influenced Phil’s tone. “You’d do that for me?”
Uncertainty now sounded in hers. “Oh, um...yes. Yes, I would. To help Stack. Not to—”
“We’ve gotten along, haven’t we?”
“No! I’ve tolerated you, Phil. That’s all.”
“You like me, I can tell. We clicked, didn’t we?”
Just as Phil’s voice went husky, Vanity’s went shrill. “What are you doing? Get away from me!”
Stack screeched up to the curb, threw the car in Park, and jumped out running. He reached the glass door in time to see Phil corner Vanity. The bastard had one hand clamped on her arm, the other knotted in her long hair, and he was trying to kiss her.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
IN A MURDEROUS RAGE, Stack stormed in...and saw Vanity bring her knee up to Phil’s jewels. A direct hit. For that one second in time before the pain set in, Phil gaped at her and his hands loosened.
But Vanity wasn’t done. As she’d been taught in the self-defense classes, she used the heel of her hand to bash Phil’s nose. Hands to his balls, his head knocked back, and Phil staggered.
When blood sprayed, Vanity recoiled. “Eewww...”
Phil dropped to his knees.
Stalking in, Stack immediately drew him back up and slammed him against the wall. “You dared to touch her?” He slammed Phil again. “You miserable—”
“Stack!”
He stilled. Not Vanity’s voice, but his sister’s.
Groaning, Stack looked over his shoulder and there stood Tabby, her eyes flared, her mouth pinched.
She was going to be so badly hurt by all this.
Then he glanced at Vanity. She watched him warily, her eyes still red, her lips trembling. She’d been hurt, too.
By him.
Time for him to start mending things, instead of wrecking them. Opening his fingers, Stack released Phil and let him slump down the wall to the floor. One deep breath, then another, and he thought he just might be able to speak coherently.
“He had his hand in his pocket,” Vanity warned. “I don’t know—”
“Got it.” Stack knelt down, frisked Phil and found a bag of pills but no weapons. Shit. He shoved Phil’s face up, and only then did he realize Phil wasn’t all there. “What did you take?”
“Don’t know,” he slurred. “I just needed...something.”
“Courage?” Disgusted, Stack stood and tossed the pills on the countertop. His gaze met Vanity’s.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
And, yeah, that totally blew his cool all over.
Emotions combustible, he reached her in one long stride, drew her in, pressed her head to his shoulder while he gently hugged her. “You’re okay?”
“Yes.” She remained tense in his arms. “You heard everything?”
Over and over, he smoothed his hands along her back. “Yeah. Smart move, leaving the call open like that.”
“I wasn’t sure you’d answer.”
Stack lightly kissed her. “You’re unsure about a lot of things, I know.”
Tabby elevated her tone in demand. “What is going on?”
Keeping Vanity close—something she didn’t object to—Stack turned to face Phil. “We thought he was the one hiring goons to come after me, but it was only Phil the first time. After that, it was Whitney calling the shots.”
Exasperated, Tabby rushed over to Phil with a handful of tissues. “I told you Phil wouldn’t do that.” She pressed the tissues to his nose as she took his arm, helping him to stand. “You’re okay?”
Phil nodded, his cagey, bleary gaze on Vanity and Stack.
Stack was about to explain when Tabby gave them both a fierce scowl. “If it was Whitney, then why did you slug Phil?”
