A Perfect Storm
Page 66

She wanted him in ways she’d thought long lost to her.
She wanted him as a man.
Tonight, if she played her cards right, she just might manage to get lucky.
* * *
WELL AWAY FROM THE BAR—a few feet in front of him—Spencer watched Arizona skipping along in a drunken trot. He flexed his fists, expanding and contracting his bruised knuckles. All the volatile emotion he’d felt tonight still churned inside him. He wanted to tear apart everyone involved…while Arizona smiled like a kid at a carnival.
Keeping her within reach, while not yet touching her, and constantly scanning the area, he called Dare. The ringing stopped, but Dare said nothing. “It’s Spencer.”
“Done playing around?”
“Carl’s in a room off the alley to the right of the front door.”
“You immobilized him, right?”
That was a nice way to put it, but Spencer said only, “Yes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I went a little overboard on him.”
“No doubt he had it coming.”
Spencer saw no reason to explain that Carl had dared to pull a knife on Arizona, that he’d threatened her life.
Or that she’d been in the process of bartering sex to gain the upper hand.
“I should have killed him.”
Dare said, “We need him alive to answer questions. Get her out of here. I won’t be far behind you.”
“Thanks.” He ended the call.
As soon as they rounded the corner, Spencer caught up with Arizona, anxious to ensure her safety. “Get in the truck.”
She nodded but said, “That was so f**king awesome, Spencer. A night I’ll never forget. I’m almost giddy, you know?”
He couldn’t look at her. “In the truck, Arizona.”
“I’m going, I’m going.” She laughed as she turned to walk backward, watching him. “Smell the rain?” She flung her arms out wide and inhaled deeply. “Seems appropriate that it’d storm again, doesn’t it?”
A storm for Arizona Storm? When she tripped, he caught her arm to keep her from falling.
She snugged herself up to him. “You impressed me, Spence, and that’s not easy to do.”
He sighed. God, what would he do with her?
Probably not what he wanted.
Unless… He eyed her, saw the daze in her eyes and knew she was too drunk. No, definitely not what he wanted.
“Stop looking so morose, you grumpy Gus.” She nudged him. “Everything is fine!”
“Yeah, just dandy.” She might’ve been raped, then murdered in a back room off an alley. But she discounted that peril completely. “Pay attention to your feet before you fall.”
“Nag, nag.” When they reached the truck, she launched into chatter again. “It was so cool how you came out of nowhere like a big avenging angel. A dark angel. And bam.” She threw a shadow punch. “You took it out of old Carl. One blow, and that sucker was done for.”
Spencer held her door open, saying nothing. Still smiling, she slid into her seat.
“You did that in the bar, too. I should call you One-Shot Spence, or something catchy like that. Maybe when I’m more sober, I can come up with a good name for you.”
Again checking the area, Spencer closed her door, then went around the truck and got behind the wheel. He immediately locked the doors and started the truck.
Oblivious to his mood, Arizona said, “I broke Carl’s fingers. Did you see that?”
“No.” All he’d seen was Carl dragging her away… His heart ached, just remembering. He never wanted to see anything like that again.
“Must’ve been after he got me into the alley.” Arizona made a twisting motion in the air. “Felt damn good, getting him like that. You know he had broken poor Quin’s finger, right? I wanted to pay him back in kind. But you know, I wasn’t even thinking about that when it happened. He tried to choke me—the dick—and I went on auto-drive.” She gave him a fat smile. “See, training pays off. Told you everything would be fine.”
Adrenaline still pumped through Spencer’s veins, making everything she said feel like nails on a chalkboard. “Put on your seat belt.”
After a long look, she huffed at him. “You are being such a pill.” She latched the belt.
A pill? He wanted to raze that goddamned bar and half the men in it, yet he held on to his temper—just barely. Spencer put the truck in gear and, deciding he needed to get moving before he blew, pulled out to the road.
“Wish I could have stomped on old Terry a little more, too. Cowboy.” She snorted in utter disdain. “What an ass.”
Grinding his teeth, Spencer tuned her out and concentrated on his driving. They got a few blocks more before she started in again.
“He thought he’d break me in. That’s what he said. His exact words. Can you believe that? I’d break him.” She laughed. “Just like I broke Carl’s fingers.” She reached over and patted Spencer’s thigh. “And just like you broke the rest of him.”
At her touch, his whole body tensed more.
The pat turned into a tentative stroke, moved to his inner thigh, and Arizona gave a bold and curious squeeze. While playing with him, she said, “I hope when we go back, I get a shot at Terry—”
Primed to the breaking point, Spencer snapped, “Enough!” He knew he wouldn’t make it until they reached his home, so he jerked the truck off to the side of a busy street. He put it in Park with jarring impact.