In Too Deep Page 26

  They fell asleep, exhausted, tangled like lovers.

  Rawley awoke to total darkness. Benny lifted his head beside him, alerted to his movements. Absently patting the dog’s head, he thought of Hunter Calgary, and got angry all over again.

  He thunked his pillow with his fist and crushed it into a ball, then lay back again with his head propped up, staring at the ceiling. A moment later he reached around the bed and grabbed his soccer ball; then, lying back down, he tossed it lightly upward, catching it almost silently.

  He almost liked the guy. Almost. He’d brought Benny from Houston, and he let Rawley tag around with him at the police station from time to time. He even put up with all the guff Sergeant Ortega threw at him, which was kinda funny, since it really infuriated Ortega, you could just tell. But Ortega liked him, too.

  And then there was that thing with Obie Loggerfield. Phew! What a garbage dump the old guy was, but really cool, too. Rawley liked that His Majesty bit. The guy had a dignity that was real. And Hunter treated Obie with respect, not condescension.

  Rawley nearly missed catching the ball. He held it in his hands, listening. He didn’t want to wake his mom. She was working really hard and happier than she’d been in a while. Sure, she was out of her mind about his dad, but women were kinda crazy sometimes. Brandon had assured him that you just had to just ignore the really weird things they did.

  But he couldn’t deny that his mom liked having Hunter Calgary around. He cringed at the thought of them dating. The idea gave him a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. And he knew the guy was trying to move in on his mother. Maybe he hadn’t quite succeeded yet, but he didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon. And Christ! He lived in Santa Fe!

  Rawley was certain there was some kind of conspiracy there. He wished he could call his dad right now. Was it too late? Probably. Parents freaked if you called them after nine P.M. And what about his mom? Rawley tossed the ball one more time, catching it deftly. He couldn’t get a reading on her.

  Sometimes she seemed thrilled to have Hunter around; other times she looked worried sick. Like tonight. Something had happened and the only consolation was that Hunter seemed as baffled by everyone’s attitude as Rawley did. But he’d hoped Hunter might sort of go away. He still did. He had a dad now, and it bugged him to think that someone else might try to take over. Really bugged him.

  Rawley gently dropped the ball on the floor beside Benny. He lay on his side and gazed at the goldenhaired mutt. But Benny was resting. He breathed deeply, emitting little doggy sighs that made Rawley grin.

  Had Hunter left? Or was he still here?

  The grin slid off his face in a flash. Alarmed, Rawley slid out of bed. He dragged a pair of jeans over his boxers, unwilling to have anyone see him half-dressed. Tiptoeing to the front room he stopped short. Blood rushed to his head. They were lying down on the couch together!

  His chest constricted. He couldn’t breathe. It was a total relief to realize they were fully clothed. They even had their shoes on, he noted quickly, fading back into the shadows of the hallway.

  Rawley sneaked back into his own room but didn’t undress. He didn’t even lie down again. He stood in the center of the room, thoughts racing. He should have told his dad more about that guy. He should have warned him!

  Picking up the receiver, he dialed his father’s cell phone number from memory. He didn’t care if he got yelled at for calling so late. It rang four times before the voice-mail message came on.

  “Hi, Dad,” he said in a strained voice, glancing toward the door. “Mom’s been seeing this guy. You know the one I told you about? He’s here and I don’t want him here. You need to get here right away. I—” He heard his voice crack and get higher. “Where are you? You said you were coming. Dad! Please! You’ve got to get here fast!”

  Troy sat silently in his green Explorer and watched the gray light of dawn brighten the eastern sky. His mood was black as he sat outside the wrought iron fortress where Jenny had holed up. He could scale the fence somewhere, if he so desired, but he couldn’t get the car through without permission from within. He slammed his palm against the steering wheel, then slammed it three more times, grinding his teeth to contain the scream that wanted to erupt from the depths of his anger.

  He knew he was being irrational. But he was powerless to do anything other than move forward. He waited for her to come out. He could follow her if she were with Rawley, or if the kid was left inside, he would phone him.

  Troy glanced at his cell phone. He’d turned it off for economy’s sake. Power down to compensate for the piddling amount of money Holloway had given him. He’d tried to use Patricia’s credit card one too many times and had learned that access had been denied.

  Access denied.

  He threw a bitter glance at the wrought iron fence with its arrow-tipped spikes. They were always trying to keep him out, but it wouldn’t work. He was going to eat them alive.

  Last night had not gone well. Troy grimaced and growled low in his throat. He’d known two women would be trouble, but his embarrassment was profound.

  They’d been more than eager. Heather and Jessica. Friends. He’d bought them a couple of drinks and then had pretended it was time for him to leave. They’d begged him to stay and though he’d merely sipped his own drink, they’d belted back a few of those flavored martinis that were so popular these days until they were totally tanked and inhibitions were gone.

  He’d tried to figure out how to divide them. He’d liked Heather better than Jessica. Liked her rounded tits and ass, whereas Jessica was leaner and more athletic and she laughed like a hyena. They’d talked him into coming to their place, a little house on the north side of town down a gravel lane that turned out to be quite attractive. Heather drove their car and Troy followed. He could feel that crazy beat in his head, that need to drum his fingers and jiggle his leg. He wanted to ride Heather like the bitch she was.

  But Jessica was there and she was more aggressive. She kept laughing and telling jokes and grabbing him by the arm like they were old buddies. He wanted to slap her silly. He’d tightened up and that’s when it had all gone to hell.

  They poured more drinks. Vodka with a spray of soda and tiny ice cubes. Troy held his glass but never took a swallow. It seemed like his vision was filmed in red, somehow, and all he could see was Heather’s bouncing butt cheeks. He finally reached over and squeezed. She slapped his hand away, but playfully, and then Jessica went in for the kill. Coming up behind him, she clamped that big ugly mouth on the back of his neck, sucking and moaning, while her fingers traveled downward and played with him through his pants. He lay limp. And even when Heather approached from the front and slid her tongue between his lips, Troy couldn’t get aroused. He felt used. Trapped. Claustrophobic and subservient.

  They did their utmost, but Troy yanked away from them. He grabbed Jessica by the throat at one point, until her eyes bugged out in surprise. Then he wanted her, but he wanted her down on her knees. When he tried to push her down she resisted and yelled; and then Heather started yelling and yelling and Troy felt like his head was going to explode.

  They were laughing when he left! Laughing!

  Humiliation burned so bright he felt like he was on fire. And it hadn’t burned out yet.

  Running a hand through his hair, he knew he looked like hell. This wasn’t the Troy Russell of old. He’d lost something. He wasn’t sure what, but he’d lost it just the same.

  He sat for another hour, wondering if he should call Patricia and try to mend some fences. He could go back to L.A. and make nice and she would take him back. She wasn’t all that attractive, though—and she wasn’t that wealthy. If he really wanted to play the whipped puppy he could go back to Frederica. If she were on an upswing she would take him in, no holds barred.

  But he couldn’t imagine being their stud. Either one of them. For the first time in his life Troy didn’t trust his cock. Last night had shattered his confidence. Women were such ball-busters. They thrived on
humiliating men. They laughed and pointed.

  You had to teach them respect. You had to beat the fear of God into them.

  He’d always known it, but it suddenly sounded like an epiphany. He had to make them cower and cry and gaze at him in fear.

  He got an achingly stiff hard-on just thinking about it.

  Jenny awoke to a sense of heat and confinement. Her arm was numb and she realized it was crammed beneath her and she was pressed into the couch, her legs entangled with another body. Hunter’s.

  She jolted to wakefulness and her sharp movement made him stir. While she assimilated the situation, he said lazily, “I took your shoes off.”

  She gazed down at her stockinged feet, wiggling her toes. “Thanks.”

  “How are you feeling this morning?”

  “Cramped.” With that he turned on his side, facing her. The moment lengthened. “I have to brush my teeth,” she whispered through tight lips.

  He grinned, and his smile was just too devastating. It shattered her strength. In one sinuous move, she freed herself from his embrace and headed into the bathroom, groaning at the sight of her wild hair and rumpled sweater. Brushing her hair and teeth, she scurried into her room and changed her wrinkled pink sweater and creased trousers for a black sweater and slacks to match.

  She returned to the living room to find him gone. She looked into the kitchen where Hunter was fiddling with her coffee maker. The sight was so domestic she felt slightly breathless.

  I want this, she thought fiercely.

  “Here, let me do that,” she said and proceeded to make coffee as he settled onto one of the stools she’d brought from Houston and leaned his elbows on the kitchen bar.

  His silence unnerved her and she threw him a look. “What?” she demanded.

  “You okay?”

  “You mean after my near breakdown last night?” She watched the coffee begin to run rapidly into the glass carafe. “I’ve been living in a little fantasy world ever since I got to Santa Fe. I pushed all my problems aside and thought they wouldn’t follow me here, but then my father showed up and told me …” She lifted a hand helplessly, then dropped it to her side. “I think Troy would do anything,” she admitted, meeting his gaze directly.

  “I do, too.”

  “You’ve met him,” she said, as if the thought were new. Maybe it was. She hadn’t been thinking all that clearly last night.

  Hunter nodded.

  “I wish you had told me.”

  “I was supposed to watch you, not meet you. I didn’t plan to tell you anything.”

  “But later,” Jenny insisted. “After we—were together. You should have told me.”

  “And if I had?”

  She blinked. “I would have thrown you out of my life and screamed at you for working for my father.” She gazed at him in a way that constricted his heart. “What can I do? I want a restraining order against Troy. I can’t bear that he sees Rawley! And he won’t quit I really do know that, even if I’ve been trying to repress it. He’ll follow us and follow us as long as my father keeps paying him.”

  It wasn’t just the money. Hunter knew it, and maybe Jenny knew it, but he didn’t say it aloud. Troy was toying with Rawley to torture Jenny. And both Jenny and Rawley stood to get hurt.

  She poured them each a cup of coffee. He couldn’t bear thinking how Troy intended to hurt Jenny.

  “Ortega wants me back, but I’m not going yet.”

  “I’ll pay you to stay with me,” she said quickly.

  “I’m staying with you anyway. What about Rawley? How’s he going to feel about this?”

  “He won’t understand,” she admitted tiredly, “but I can’t say that I care right now.”

  “Russell will show his hand eventually. I want to be there when it happens. So, I’m sticking to you like a leech, like a lover.”

  Her eyes left his, looking anywhere but directly at him. With a small swallow, she admitted, “I hope so.”

  Hunter relaxed the muscles in his back. He hadn’t even realized how tight they’d been until now. “Come on. I’ll take you to my ranch. I, too, need to brush my teeth, and unless you plan on plying me with more fabulous southwestern food, I also could use some breakfast. This time I cook.”

  She smiled at him, delighted by his suggestion. “I don’t have to be at the restaurant until later.”

  “Gloria could run that place blindfolded, with her hands tied behind her back, and in a wheelchair, even if she were Geneva’s only employee.” Jenny laughed. “She’s fierce.”

  Hunter basked in the sound of her happiness. “I’m scared of her.”

  “Uh-huh.” She lifted her cup to her lips, her eyes crinkling at the corners with mirth.

  “I’m serious. That’s really why I stayed with you last night. The dreams, you see.” He gave a mock shudder. “I need protection.”

  “Let’s go to your ranch,” she said, and there was a wealth of meaning in her words that Hunter didn’t miss. He slid a look over his shoulder, in the direction of the hall and further down, Rawley’s bedroom.

  Jenny took the iniative, heading to Rawley’s door and rapping lightly with her knuckles. When he didn’t respond, she turned the knob. “Rawley?”

  “What?” was the surly response.

  “I’m going out with Hunter for a while. Do you want to come?”

  “Where are you going?” he demanded.

  “For a drive. Then to see his ranch.”

  Silence. “I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  “You wouldn’t be,” she assured him, ignoring his martyred tone.

  “I’ll just stay here. I’ve got homework for tomorrow.”

  “All right,” Jenny said, closing the door softly. Through the panels Rawley yelled, “How long will you be gone?”

  “A couple of hours.”

  When he didn’t respond Jenny came back into the kitchen and raised her eyebrows.

  “Let’s vamoose,” Hunter said, grabbing his rainspattered leather jacket. He glanced outside. The rain had let up and the air felt drier already. Soon Santa Fe would return to its usual crisp, cold dry desert.

  Jenny tossed on a wind breaker and they headed outside. She’d put on some light cologne and she smelled like heaven.

  “I’m glad he wanted to stay,” she admitted.

  “Not as much as I am.”

  They ran to the Jeep, holding hands, dodging the shrinking puddles and laughing.

  The black Jeep came through the gates and turned toward town. Troy was so absorbed in his own problems he paid it scant attention until he caught a glimpse of Jenny’s profile. Adrenaline shot through him.

  Who was she with ?

  He was instantly infuriated. Rawley had told him there was a man sniffing around her, and though Troy had minded, he hadn’t considered him serious competition. Jenny was the ice princess. She didn’t take lovers.

  Suddenly Troy wasn’t so certain. Anger flooded him in red-hot waves. Goddamn the bitch! She was doing it on purpose to taunt him.

  He swore violently, coldly under his breath, twisting the ignition, only to let it die a moment later. If Jenny was out with her lover, Rawley was in. Switching on his cell phone, he realized there was a message. Growling in frustration, he punched in his code and listened to Rawley’s young voice telling him that his mother was involved with this guy.

  Troy shivered. There was no time to waste. He phoned Rawley back and the kid answered on the first ring.

  “Hello?”

  “Hi, there, Rawley,” he said, forcing a lightness to his voice even while inside his head he was screaming. He shook his head, trying to clear it. His control was slipping.

  “Dad!” He sounded relieved. “You got my message?”

  “Just did. I was thinking about coming over and checking this guy out for myself.”

  “You can’t! They just left together.”

  Troy squeezed his fist closed and held it as tight as he could. “Really.”

  “I don’t know about
him. I just wish he’d go away. Why’d he have to show up now?”

  “Hey, I’m in the neighborhood. What’s that code for the gate? I’ll just come on in and we can do something together.”

  “Great!” Rawley rattled off the numbers and Troy burned them into his memory.

  “See you in a few,” he signed off. He was half tempted to chase after Jenny but he hadn’t lost it completely. Oh, no. Troy could play a waiting game if he had to.

  He unfisted his hand and stared at the fingers. He wanted to strangle someone. Someone with blue eyes and a false smile. Someone frigid and beautiful. Someone wealthy … who would be wealthier as soon as her old man popped off.

  That thought cooled his killing fever a little.

  Hunter’s ranch lay nestled in a small valley, tucked against the rolling hills outside of Santa Fe. Jenny stepped out of the Jeep and Hunter held open a gate made from coyote fencing. They walked along a pebblelined path to the front door, which he unlocked. Holding open the door, he allowed her entry.

  The place was small and fairly bare, little more than a cabin. The furniture was knotty pine and a stack of wood lay on the slate hearth of a river-rock fireplace that rose to the ceiling. Two doors jutted off one end, and she could see the curved bar that led to the kitchen. It was tidy and spare and cozy enough to elicit a pleased, “oh …” from her lips.

  He shrugged, somewhat embarrassed. “I haven’t done much to it, besides repair the outside fence. No livestock. I bought it with the furniture from a gal who was getting married and moving to Phoenix.”

  “It’s really nice,” she said, meaning it.

  “I could make a fire,” he suggested.

  “I could make breakfast, if you have some supplies.”

  “I said I’d do that,” he argued.

  “Oh, come on. Let me have a task.”

  Hunter lifted a brow. “Good luck. There’s bread in the freezer. Cereal. No milk. Frozen bacon. Anything perishable perished while I was gone.”