Fighting Dirty
Page 39

Warring with himself, Armie hedged—and then Leese was there.
“I’ll see that she makes it to her car.”
A red haze clouded Armie’s vision, but what could he say? If it was anyone other than Rissy, he wouldn’t think a thing of it.
“Seriously.” Hands on her hips, Rissy huffed at one and all. “I can walk out on my own steam.”
Leese shifted impatiently. “Where are you parked?”
Her umbrage lost its edge. “Um...across the street in the lot—”
“Right.” He turned back to Armie. “Say your goodbyes, already. I have a date tonight and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”
“I do not need you to walk me out.” Then in quick succession, she said, “This is ridiculous. If it’ll make you feel better, just watch until I get to my car. You can see me from the front door.”
Looking beyond Leese, Armie saw the stacked blonde seated at a small table, watching them.
Knowing Leese wasn’t making moves on Rissy made it easier. “Thanks. Wait until she pulls away.” He glanced at Rissy and kept it casual. “Drive safe.” Then he headed over to Havoc. The sooner he got done, the sooner he could join Rissy at his apartment.
Why the hell hadn’t he given her a key already? He’d take care of that as soon as he got home.
He tried to greet the rabid fans while also keeping an eye on Rissy as she headed to the door with Leese. He smiled toward the camera but his gaze slanted to Leese, leaning against the door frame and keeping watch as Rissy headed out across the busy street and into the dark lot.
They finished taking a corny picture of Armie and the other dude, fists up and mean mugging. Thinking he could head out, that he’d only be a minute behind her, Armie was thanking the fans when suddenly Leese went rigid, then took off in a dead run into the night.
Fear cut into Armie.
Something had happened.
Blindly he pushed free of the small crowd and shoved his way across the room and out the door—where he saw Rissy knocked to the opposite curb, one shoe in the street, her purse dumped.
Rage blocked out everything and everyone but her. With no thought for the traffic, he charged across the street. Leese was already helping her to sit up and she said, fast and breathless, “I’m okay!”
Kneeling in front of her, Armie smoothed her hair away and saw blood on her bottom lip. “What the hell happened?” Gently, he gathered her into his lap.
“She was damn near hit,” Leese said. “Some idiot...”
Armie looked at him. It surprised him to see Leese was also infuriated, even shaking with it. Their gazes met—and Armie knew.
Standing, Leese looked up and down the street, then crouched down again and in an enraged whisper, said, “Swear to God, Armie, it looked like the lunatic tried to run her over.”
* * *
THEY BOTH PULLED into his apartment parking lot half an hour later. Armie hadn’t wanted her to drive, had in fact wanted to call the police. But Merissa insisted it was her fault, that she’d been daydreaming and not paying enough attention to traffic and she’d already been embarrassed over drawing so much notice.
Half of the damned bar had emptied to gawk at her. Denver, Miles, Brand, Justice had all stood together, creating a solid wall that offered her some privacy as she straightened her clothes and smoothed her hair. Leese had fetched her shoe from the road. Cherry had gathered up the belongings of her dumped purse.
Knowing how their inner circle worked, Leese had quietly told him, “I’ll ask around, but I doubt anyone saw anything.”
Since Rissy had insisted on driving, Armie had helped her to her car, then taken a moment to talk with Denver, who would in turn get in touch with Cannon and together with Leese they’d decide if something more was going on. One of them would be in touch with him.
And of course, this meant Cannon would know Rissy was staying with him again. Armie wasn’t sure how he felt about that—or how Cannon would feel about it.
But he did know Rissy shouldn’t be alone. Not tonight, not tomorrow.
Not until they knew what the hell was happening.
A robbery and then a near miss—that was too much coincidence for any intelligent man to swallow.
Leaving his truck, he hustled over to Rissy’s car and opened the door. “Here, let me help you.”
“You’re being ridiculous.” Surly, she hitched her purse strap over her shoulder with more force than necessary and stepped out. “I keep telling you, I’m fine.”
Emphasis on the fine, and Armie well knew when women started using that word, there was a problem. “Oookay.”
She took a step, and limped.
Son of a bitch. He felt so damned helpless, he wanted to howl. “Okay, screw it.”
She arched a brow, her look lethal.
“I am who I am, Rissy.” He pointed at her. “You know that. You pushed your way in—”
Both brows now snapped down. “I—”
“—and now it’s too late to back out on me. You’re here, so you’ll just have to suffer me.”
“I have no idea what that— Armie!”
“Shush.” Lifting her into his arms, he started for the apartment entry door. “You have road rash on your cheek—the same cheek that still shows a faint bruise from the robbery. Plus I saw you limp, and you know me well enough to know I’m not going to ignore that.”
“I told you I’m—”
“Yeah, I know. You’re fine.” He shouldered the door open and started up the steps with her. “But I’m not.” Hoping she’d understand, he admitted softly, “I need to hold you, okay?”
Gradually her frown smoothed out and now she just studied him, her expression enigmatic. When they reached the upper landing, she said calmly, “Put me down so you can unlock your door.”
“You won’t budge?”
“I’ll stand here like a good little victim.”
He rolled his eyes, but took her at her word and put her back on her feet. It took him only seconds to unlock the door, then he scooped her up again.
This time she looped one arm around his neck and with the other she closed and locked the door.
Armie started down the hall.
Resting her head on his shoulder, she asked, “Where are we going?”
“To the bed.”
“Ah, okay.” She brushed her lips to his throat, up his neck to his ear. “Now you’re being more reasonable.” Sharp little teeth nipped his earlobe.
The muscles in his thighs tensed. “Behave.” As he lowered her to the bed, he got a text on his phone. After he had her situated against the pillows, he pulled the phone out of his pocket, checked the text, then put it facedown on the nightstand. “Just relax.”
When he started to remove her shoes, she said, “Stop.”
Wrapping a hand around her ankle, he looked up. “What?”
“Who texted you?”
Not about to touch that one, he shook his head. “It’s nothing. Now—”
She snatched her foot back and in a near-demonic tone, repeated, “Who?”
Armie tilted his head, took in her antagonistic posture and smiled. She was in quite the mood tonight. “You wanna do this now, Stretch?” Maybe she needed a diversion to get past the fact that someone had tried to run her down. “All right. It was a chick I used to bang.”