Risky Obsession (Wolf Security #3)

15. Lacey/Tory

CHAPTER 1 5

Lacey/Tory

I woke up in the passenger seat of our parked rental car to pain pulsing through my body and my head pounding. The stiff leather seat pressed into my battered ribs, and the cold made my dislocated fingers ache like mad. The stillness beside me confirmed Kane was still asleep and the stale air in the car lingered with scents of sweat from last night’s attack and subsequent adrenaline rush and his delightful cologne.

I still couldn’t believe that attack happened. Just like when Grant Hughes had jumped me out of nowhere. It pissed me off that Kane noticed that bastard in our room last night before I’d seen him. I was a cop, trained to identify deadly situations, and in the space of a few weeks, I’d missed two massive ones.

The sun streamed down the ramp to the underground parking garage we’d parked our car in at two o’clock this morning. A sunbeam glinted off the windshield, blinding me, and I turned my head toward Kane. His eyelashes were long and dark, and his strong jaw was graced with a short beard that was trimmed to perfection.

His eyes fluttered open, and I offered a smile. “Hello, sleepyhead.”

Yawning, he attempted to stretch his back in the cramped space. “You been awake long?”

“About three minutes.”

“So, you did get some sleep. I wasn’t sure you would.” He drove his fingers through his thick hair .

“A few hours.”

“How are your wounds?”

I turned over my right hand. “My fingers are fine. How are yours?”

After we’d stopped last night, he asked me to check his back and although he had lots of tiny nicks, he was lucky none of them needed stitches. He had a slightly deeper cut on his foot, but again nothing serious.

He leveled his gaze at me. “I meant your other wounds.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, forcing a smile and ignoring the sharp sting in my chest that accompanied every breath.

He glared at me like I couldn’t possibly be fine.

The last thing I needed was him trying to protect me. I could handle myself, and I certainly didn’t need him distracting me with his caring eyes and amazing hugs. His embrace by the fire last night had just about been my undoing. And it pissed me off that he had seen my tears . . . tears that were triggered by my guilt over lying to him.

He placed his hands on the steering wheel. “I need a piss, and a coffee.”

I forced a giggle. “Hopefully not at the same time.”

Kane didn’t continue the joke like I thought he would. Instead, he started the engine and as we drove up the ramp of the underground parking garage, we both raised a hand to shield the morning sun from our eyes.

We swept our gaze to each other, and I laughed. But it hurt so much I gasped a breath.

“Like I said, sis. We’re a fine pair.” He wriggled his brows at me.

My jaw dropped. “I told you not to call me that.”

“And I don’t want you to pretend with me. I’ve had enough women who do that.”

My stomach churned. I had done nothing but pretend with him.

“I can have bruises and still be fine,” I muttered.

He clamped his jaw like he was fighting his reply and turned the car onto the surprisingly deserted road. It was early Sunday morning, but I expected people to already be on their way to the town center, preparing for another day of the antique fair.

“Kane, I really am fine. We have more important things to focus on like my bag being stolen and my broken phone.”

Not having a phone was a major issue, but the loss of my passport wasn’t a worry because it was fake, but I needed to keep that fact from Kane. He was already suspicious of me .

He nodded. “That bastard knows who you are now.”

No, he didn’t. “And you’re a fugitive from the police because you ran away from the scene of a crime.”

He frowned at me. “We both ran away.”

“Yes, but your name was on the register.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I used a false name.”

My jaw dropped. “You did? Why?”

“Another tip from Pops. He said it saved him many times. First time I’ve used it. Lucky I remembered.”

I chuckled. “Lucky is an understatement. I think we got lucky with a whole heap of things.”

Kane turned off the road. “Well, let’s hope our luck continues, and this café has a restroom, or I’m going to burst.”

Kane parked the car outside a quaint little café, and we stepped out into the frigid morning air. My body protested every movement, but this pain was nothing compared to the agony I’d suffered when I was stabbed nearly a decade ago.

Kane held open the café door for me, a gentlemanly gesture that added to my conviction that he really was a good guy.

Inside, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the scent of pastries enveloped us. As Kane made a beeline for the restrooms at the back, I headed to a table in the corner, away from the front counter. We were the only customers in the café. Maybe the locals liked to sleep in on Sundays.

A waitress came over, and I placed our order, taking a guess that Kane would have the same as he’d had yesterday morning.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and ran my finger over the shattered phone. It didn’t even light up. Damn it. The phone had more damage than just a cracked screen. I shoved the phone back into my pocket, wondering how soon I could get a replacement and what the hell we were going to do for money without Aria’s credit card.

Kane slipped into the chair opposite me. “That’s better.”

“Great. I ordered our coffee and strudels. Hope that’s okay?”

“Sounds good to me.”

I stood. “My turn in the toilet.”

In the restroom, I locked myself in the cubicle, and after I finished peeing, I lifted my shirt to examine my torso. Wincing, I touched the fresh bruises dotting my ribs. The yellowing bruise on my left side was now accompanied by two bruises the size of fists on my right side. If anyone saw me, they would think I’d been in a car crash. That was how I felt too.

At the sink, I washed my face and attempted to tame my wavy hair with wet fingers. The bruise and cut on my cheek were just about gone. Thank goodness. I’d received lots of wary looks with those injuries. At least I could hide most of my other wounds.

By the time I returned, our coffees and pastries had arrived, and I felt half decent again.

“Feel better?” Kane asked with a gentle smile.

“Yes, much.” I wrapped my good hand around the hot mug. “This will help.”

With his eyes on me, he sipped his coffee, and I had a feeling he wanted to ask a question I wouldn’t want to answer.

Taking charge of the conversation, I said, “What time is it in Australia? Maybe we can call Aria.”

He checked his watch. “Three in the afternoon.”

He pulled his phone from his jacket pocket.

It didn’t really matter what time we rang Aria. When our phone numbers flashed up on her screen, she would answer. He scrolled down to her name, and when he put the phone on speaker, I shuffled forward on my seat.

She answered on the third ring. “Is that you, Kane?”

“Yes, I’m with Tory, and I have you on speaker.”

“Is everything okay?” Aria was always straight to business.

“No, actually. We were attacked last night,” I said. “Kane and I are fine, but they stole my bag with my passport and your credit card, and my phone was ruined.”

“Shit. Those things can be replaced, but was it a random attack?”

I nodded at Kane to answer.

“No, we don’t believe so,” he said. “We think he was after my map.”

She didn’t reply and Kane studied me as if I could interpret Aria’s uncharacteristic silence.

“Are you there?” Kane asked.

“Yes. Can you give me a description of the attacker?”

“He wore a balaclava at first,” Kane said, his stunning eyes capturing me, “but Tory got it off him.”

I leaned closer to the phone. “He was about six foot eight, red hair, red beard, pale blue eyes, and jagged scar on his chin.”

Kane blinked at me.

“Christ! That could be Cooper Apollo,” Aria said. “Give me a sec. I’ll send you a photo.”

“Also, he was right-handed,” I said, “and knew hand-to-hand combat. He looked familiar, but I can’t figure out how.”

The phone pinged, and Kane clicked on the image. We leaned forward as we studied the man in military uniform. He was about the same height as our attacker, but his build was nowhere near as big. The man in the photo didn’t have a beard either.

“What do you think?” I asked Kane.

Frowning, he shook his head. “Can’t say.”

“Sorry, Aria, it could be him, but we can’t be absolutely sure. How old is that picture?” I asked.

“About seven years.”

Kane scrunched his nose. “If it is Cooper who attacked us, what should we do?”

“Stay the hell away from him,” Aria snapped.

“He’s the guy who stole the gold from you, correct?” Kane asked.

“Yes, and he tried to murder my team.”

Kane’s eyes darkened.

“Aria, we showed Kane’s map to only one man yesterday,” I said. “Then we got attacked in the middle of the night. It seems like a stretch that Cooper just happened to be in the same town we visited and that the guy we met yesterday knew him.”

“Cooper had connections, and he has enough money to have anyone he wants in his pocket,” Aria said. “But you’re right, it seems a stretch. Although it’s an angle we can’t ignore.”

“But if that attack does relate to my map and the gold,” Kane said, “then why would Cooper be involved? He already has enough gold to last a lifetime.”

She moaned into the phone. “Cooper is a greedy bastard. He fucked us over once to steal what we found. He’ll do it again. Look, no matter who attacked you, the stakes just got a hell of a lot higher. Do you want me to pull you out?”

“Absolutely not,” I said .

“That’s a no from me too.” Kane’s grin brightened his eyes.

Aria sighed. “Listen, this has taken a turn I wasn’t anticipating. If you need anything, you call me, and I’ll have whatever it is you need, and my team, there ASAP.”

“Thanks, Aria,” Kane and I said in unison.

“Good. Now tell me where you’re staying, and I’ll arrange a new passport and credit card.”

“We don’t know just yet, but as soon as we do, I’ll let you know,” I said.

“Don’t worry about the credit card,” Kane said. “I’ll fund everything.”

“That’s not necessary, Kane,” Aria said.

“I know. You can buy me a beer when we get back.”

My jaw fell.

Mr. Nice Guy strikes again.

He winked at me, and my heart melted. Then my mind wept over all my lies.

“Roger that, but I’ll make sure you’re fully compensated,” she said. “Watch your six, guys, and keep me posted.”

“Will do.” Kane ended the call. “You sure you want to continue this?”

“Absolutely.” I picked up my coffee.

“Fantastic. Then let’s start with talking to the slimy bastard Gunter.”

“Perfect.” We downed the last of our coffees and made our way back to the car.

Kane drove up the street toward the section of town that was blocked off for the antique fair. Parking close to Gunter’s shop was impossible, so after looping around the town a couple of times, he pulled into the first park he came across and we climbed out.

I felt naked without my bag across my chest. And without my badge and gun for that matter. Those two items had become a part of my daily life for nearly ten years. I’d left my badge at home because I couldn’t risk Kane finding it. I didn’t bring the gun for two reasons: getting it through customs when I couldn’t show my badge would have been difficult, and the gun would have raised questions with Kane that I would require lies to answer.

The morning sun was doing its best to filter through the gray clouds overhead, but without it, the frigid wind that raced over the cobblestone streets took on an added bite. Once again, the shops had all their wares out, but the wind was playing havoc with tablecloths and umbrellas, and the crowds were only a third the size of yesterday.

Hunched over with my jacket hood on, I tried not to shudder because every time I did, the pain in my bruised ribs stole my breath away. At the top of the hill, Kane and I stepped into the alley where Gunter’s store was, and the reprieve from the wind was instant. Many others had the same idea, because the crowds in this area were triple the numbers of the main street.

My jaw clenched as we approached Gunter’s store. It was still shut.

“Where the hell is he?” I muttered, testing the doorknob. “He should be here by now.”

“I doubt he’s coming.” Kane’s voice was tight with frustration. “Or maybe he had a visit from our attacker, too.”

“I hope not,” I said, although the thought had already crossed my mind. “Let’s ask around, see if anyone knows where he is.”

Inside the neighboring store, every cabinet was stocked with glistening jewelry. The middle-aged woman behind the counter was adorned in so many rings and bracelets, she had to be the store’s best customer.

After I established that she spoke English, I asked, “Do you know the man who works next door, Gunter?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Oh, good. He’s not in his shop today. Do you know why?”

A deep frown crossed her forehead. “No. That’s odd.”

“The sign on his door says he’s ill.”

Her hand went to her chest. “Oh, I hope not. He’s the guest speaker at the charity ball tonight.”

She turned to her desk, plucked a poster from a stack of papers, and handed it to me. Two pictures were at the top, one was a glorious castle. The other was a man dressed in a tuxedo and beaming like a proud father.

Gunter.

Kane leaned closer, his eyes narrowing as he pointed at the bold text. “Can you please translate this for us?”

“Of course.” She lifted the glasses hanging from a gold chain around her neck onto her nose. “A night through time: Gala Ball featuring Gunter Sachs, Renowned Symbologist.”

Kane’s eyes shimmered. “That’s interesting.”

“Sure is,” I said, hoping Kane didn’t see my confusion. I should probably know what a symbologist did for a living .

I pointed at the paragraph below the heading. “And this section?”

She read out loud for us. “Immerse yourself in the rich tapestry of our region’s history with a captivating presentation by Gunter Sachs, a renowned antique dealer with an uncanny ability to decipher puzzles locked away within historical objects. Dance the night away to live music and savor a delectable dinner and free-flowing champagne as we celebrate our fascinating history.”

Kane swept his gaze at me. “I guess that’s where we’ll find him.”

“Oh.” The woman’s eyes widened. “You won’t get a ticket. This sold out months ago. It’s very prestigious. Even Baroness Sophia van der Hausen is attending.”

I raised my eyebrows, acting surprised, yet I had no idea who the baroness was.

“I know.” Her eyes dazzled. “That’s why she hired extra security. She’s worried about her jewels being stolen. If I were her, I would leave them at home.”

Kane lifted the saleswoman’s hand and made a show of admiring her jewelry.

“But exquisite quality deserves to be on show.” He gave the woman that smile, and she was so flustered it was a wonder she didn’t pass out.

“Oh.” She giggled, wriggling her fingers on her other hand to show off her abundant rings. “I know. I know.”

“May we take this poster?” Kane released her hand.

“Yes, of course.”

“Will you be attending the gala tonight?” I asked.

“I wish. You wouldn’t believe the pieces of jewelry I have sold for this event,” she said. “I would love to see them on show. But the price of the ticket is out of my budget, I’m afraid.”

“That is a shame.” Kane swept his finger through his hair, and I had the feeling he would have bought her a ticket if the event wasn’t sold out.

“Thank you. You have been very helpful.” I hooked my hand through his elbow and guided him away from her.

I released my grip on him as we walked out the door into the frigid air. We returned to the front of Gunter’s closed shop.

“You know we need to go to that ball, to find Gunter,” he said.

“We sure do.” I rubbed my hands together and blew into my palms, trying to warm them up. “But how will we get in when it’s sold out? ”

“Don’t know yet, but we’ll figure it out. We’ll need to find some appropriate outfits though.”

Frowning, I scanned the antique shops around us. “Let’s check out the back streets. Maybe we’ll find some op shops.”

He released a lovely laugh. “You’re not going to find a gala ball outfit in an op shop.”

“Ahh, challenge accepted.”

“In that case, I’m looking forward to this.” His beaming smile grew bigger, and my stupid heart fluttered.

Holy smokes, can he get any more handsome?

I couldn’t stop the grin on my face, and I allowed myself a few lovely minutes with Kane, pretending we were just a couple of friends out for a stroll. The reality of my situation was getting harder by the minute.

I pointed across a cobblestone road to a shop with mannequins wearing dresses in the window. A hand-painted sign hung above the door: Fr?ulein’s Frocks.

Kane opened the door for me and inside, the air was thick with the scent of lavender and mothballs.

“It’s pre-loved clothing,” I said.

“I can smell that.”

Clothes were crammed onto all the racks, and the farther I progressed into the store, the more my claustrophobia reared its ugly head.

“Back here.” Kane waved at me over the top of the racks.

Sucking in a lungful of musty air, I squeezed between two overloaded racks and entered a small, contained room. “What have you found?”

He swept his hand to the rows of dresses lining the three walls of the windowless room. Dresses in every color, style, and length filled the racks. Satins and sparkles dominated the theme.

I scanned the price tag of one dress. One hundred euro.

“Jeez, if that price is for secondhand, I’d hate to see the price for brand new.”

“Forget the price,” he said. “The question is if anything is suitable.”

I tugged a full-length satin dress from the rack. It was a fire engine red, with puffed sleeves and a decorative patch of rhinestones on one hip. It wouldn’t win any best-dressed awards.

Scrunching my nose, I held it to my body.

Kane’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Dare you to try it on. ”

“You have no idea who you are challenging.” I hooked the dress over my arm. “Find me five more.”

With a devious smirk, he turned back to the dress rack. “What about this one?” He held up a green satin dress that shimmered beneath the fluorescent lights. There was enough fabric to make a parachute.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”

Laughing, he put the dress back. While I searched for dresses that were at least decent, Kane was doing his best for the opposite.

“Ha. This is the one.” He held up a dress that looked like it should be a costume in the Bridgerton movie. It was pale pink, had a massive skirt and puffy sleeves, and was dotted with diamantes and lace. It was like the dressmaker was on a challenge to use up all her leftover items.

“Oh, that’s beautiful,” I said, trying to keep the grin off my face.

Kane’s jaw dropped.

I burst out laughing and then gasped at the pain in my ribs.

“You need to try it on now,” he said.

I rolled my eyes. “Fine. Give me that.” I snatched the dress off him and headed toward the changing room.

“You need to show me them on,” he called to my back.

In the changing room, I removed my clothes and slipped into the pale pink monstrosity, struggling with the layers of lace and the weight of the skirt. Tugging at the sleeves, I emerged from the changing room feeling like a parody of a princess and faced Kane with a theatrical flourish.

“Well, what do you think?” I twirled for him, and the layers of lace and diamantes rustled.

Kane clapped dramatically. “Absolutely stunning. You should wear that to the gala tonight.”

“Very funny. I need to look beautiful, not ridiculous.”

His eyes softened. “I think you’d look beautiful in anything.”

My blood seemed to dance, and time stood still between us.

“Oh.” I cleared my throat. “Thanks, but no. This isn’t the look I’m going for.”

“Try on the red dress,” he said, and the air between us crackled like static electricity.

A knot wedged in my throat as I stepped back into the cubical and unzipped out of the dress, letting it fall at my feet.

Damn him . . . why does he have to be so . . . nice ?

Do not cry. Do not cry.

Despite my mantra, tears pooled in my eyes. I blinked them away and tried to tell myself that I was just doing my job.

But for the first time since I became a cop, I wasn’t sure if following orders was the right thing to do.

I tugged on the red dress, and despite every effort, the bruises battering my body made pulling up the zipper impossible.

“Well?” Kane sounded like he was right outside the curtain.

“I can’t do the zipper.”

“Come out, I’ll do it for you.”

Cringing, I pulled open the curtain and stepped out. “No need. It’s hideous.”

“You won’t complete the dare.”

I groaned. “Really?”

“Yep. Turn around.” He twirled his finger.

I turned my back to him.

“Oh, Tory,” he breathed. “These bruises are horrific.”

Shit. In our reflection in the dressing room mirror, the tenderness in his expression nearly cracked my heart in two.

He brushed his fingers over the tender skin near my backbone, maybe tracing bruises that I hadn’t seen. A shiver ran through me, not from pain but from the unexpected softness in his touch. His fingers left a warm trail that sent prickles of delight along my skin.

“These look so painful.” His voice was laced with concern.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself not to cry.

“Sometimes they hurt.” I lowered my gaze from our reflection. “Like when you make me laugh.”

A wave of vulnerability tugged at something deep within me. I’d been on my own for so long, I didn’t think I needed anyone. Kane was cracking through that resolve, and it scared the crap out of me.

Not because I didn’t want him, but because my lies and deceit would ensure I could never have him.