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Authors: Lisa Clark O'Neill
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really unfair. What’s to say that he wasn’t just the victim of a random gunshot? Maybe he got in the middle of some kind of turf war. That isn’t all that uncommon in this neighborhood, as I’m sure you know. Or maybe he was car-jacked. There’s still no sign of his truck, and if you ask me, that’s a pretty good indicator that something’s amiss.”
“If that’s true, Sam, then why did he run? When he woke up, found himself in the hospital, why not just tell someone that he’d been caught in the crossfire, or that his vehicle had been stolen? He bolted, Sam. He was bare-assed, wearing nothing but a hospital gown, and he climbed down off that gurney and took off. Blood tests showed he wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t high, and unless he’s gone insane since I last saw him, chances are he was scared. My question is: what was he afraid of?”
That premonition of danger, of opening something that was going to come back to bite her in the ass, swamped Sam again, causing her to shudder. Rubbing her hands down arms bare beneath her T-shirt, she looked at the man across from her, a man she had once instinctively trusted with her life, and wondered how much to tell him. Not that she knew anything, really, but she’d been feeling the presence of… something for weeks. Probably her overactive imagination, but when Josh put Donnie’s situation in those terms, she couldn’t help but wonder: had she inadvertently drawn the attention of whoever had shot her brother? Was that possible? And what could Donnie have been involved in that would cause him that kind of fear?
“I don’t know,” she admitted to Josh. “If Donnie was messed up in something, I honestly don’t know what it might have been. Like I said, I hadn’t seen him a whole lot recently, and whenever I talked to him he sounded fine.” But he hadn’t told her about moving. In fact, there were probably a lot of things she didn’t know about her brother. The thought made her stomach convulse.
JOSH nodded his head, accepting that as the truth, and then scratched the back of his ear as he looked around. Jeez. The place really was a shithole. And he just couldn’t stomach the thought of Samantha staying here night after night. It was probably a miracle that she hadn’t been burgled. Or worse. She’d directed him upstairs in response to his knock, which suggested it wasn’t the first time that had happened. And the next time the visitor might not be inclined to simply leave her alone.
His eyes drifted back to hers, and he found her watching him, expression pensive. There was still an unaddressed issue hanging heavily between them, and he figured he might as well take it on.
“About last night –”
“Josh –”
“Samantha, don’t interrupt me. I have something to say and you’re going to listen to me while I say it.” The hard-ass, don’t-screw-with-me-I’m-a-cop tone shocked her speechless, which was good, and Josh figured he better go ahead and get this out before she realized he was a fraud. Where she was concerned, he was no bigger and badder than a whipped dog. “I’ve done some homework and figured out that you’re stripping to make extra money, because between paying for this place and trying to keep up with your brother’s hospital bills, your job at the Roadhouse isn’t cutting it as far as income.” She sucked in a small breath, and he figured he had about another thirty seconds before she got good and pissed that he’d completely invaded her privacy. “Yes, I followed you, and yes, I made some discreet inquiries – the little known benefits of being a cop.” He wasted a couple seconds to offer a tight smile.
Samantha wasn’t impressed.
“Now before you kick my ass, listen to my proposition. I have a new condo with an extra, empty bedroom. You need a place to stay that’s safe. And best of all, it’s free.” He held up a hand when her mouth
“If that’s true, Sam, then why did he run? When he woke up, found himself in the hospital, why not just tell someone that he’d been caught in the crossfire, or that his vehicle had been stolen? He bolted, Sam. He was bare-assed, wearing nothing but a hospital gown, and he climbed down off that gurney and took off. Blood tests showed he wasn’t drunk, he wasn’t high, and unless he’s gone insane since I last saw him, chances are he was scared. My question is: what was he afraid of?”
That premonition of danger, of opening something that was going to come back to bite her in the ass, swamped Sam again, causing her to shudder. Rubbing her hands down arms bare beneath her T-shirt, she looked at the man across from her, a man she had once instinctively trusted with her life, and wondered how much to tell him. Not that she knew anything, really, but she’d been feeling the presence of… something for weeks. Probably her overactive imagination, but when Josh put Donnie’s situation in those terms, she couldn’t help but wonder: had she inadvertently drawn the attention of whoever had shot her brother? Was that possible? And what could Donnie have been involved in that would cause him that kind of fear?
“I don’t know,” she admitted to Josh. “If Donnie was messed up in something, I honestly don’t know what it might have been. Like I said, I hadn’t seen him a whole lot recently, and whenever I talked to him he sounded fine.” But he hadn’t told her about moving. In fact, there were probably a lot of things she didn’t know about her brother. The thought made her stomach convulse.
JOSH nodded his head, accepting that as the truth, and then scratched the back of his ear as he looked around. Jeez. The place really was a shithole. And he just couldn’t stomach the thought of Samantha staying here night after night. It was probably a miracle that she hadn’t been burgled. Or worse. She’d directed him upstairs in response to his knock, which suggested it wasn’t the first time that had happened. And the next time the visitor might not be inclined to simply leave her alone.
His eyes drifted back to hers, and he found her watching him, expression pensive. There was still an unaddressed issue hanging heavily between them, and he figured he might as well take it on.
“About last night –”
“Josh –”
“Samantha, don’t interrupt me. I have something to say and you’re going to listen to me while I say it.” The hard-ass, don’t-screw-with-me-I’m-a-cop tone shocked her speechless, which was good, and Josh figured he better go ahead and get this out before she realized he was a fraud. Where she was concerned, he was no bigger and badder than a whipped dog. “I’ve done some homework and figured out that you’re stripping to make extra money, because between paying for this place and trying to keep up with your brother’s hospital bills, your job at the Roadhouse isn’t cutting it as far as income.” She sucked in a small breath, and he figured he had about another thirty seconds before she got good and pissed that he’d completely invaded her privacy. “Yes, I followed you, and yes, I made some discreet inquiries – the little known benefits of being a cop.” He wasted a couple seconds to offer a tight smile.
Samantha wasn’t impressed.
“Now before you kick my ass, listen to my proposition. I have a new condo with an extra, empty bedroom. You need a place to stay that’s safe. And best of all, it’s free.” He held up a hand when her mouth
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