Full Contact
Page 63
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Ray shrugs. “Can’t help it. This is who I am. Man sees someone touching what’s his, he’s gonna do something about it. Man thinks his woman is threatened, he’s not gonna hold back until she’s safe.”
“He hardly threatened me.”
“You don’t know him like I do.”
With a sigh, I sit on my artist’s chair. “Actually, the person I don’t know is you. If I did, I would have known how you would react and I wouldn’t have told you what happened to me. But you don’t talk much about yourself. You don’t let me in. I hardly know anything about you. We never…go out and do stuff together.” Like Doctor Death said.
Tension coils in the air between us, and my head starts to throb in time to the pounding bass of the Metallica song Duncan is streaming through the speakers.
Ray folds his arms across his chest. “What do you want to know?”
Really, there is only one thing I want to know. The question that has been burning into my brain since Doctor Death first talked about Ray. “Why does Doctor Death think you’re going to walk away? Why did he say you aren’t the man you appear to be?”
His eyes darken, and then he shrugs. “Don’t know.”
Defeated, I try an easier question. “What kind of work do you do as a PI?”
“Surveillance mostly. Spent the morning watching a building. Gotta get back out there in an hour. Came by to see if you were okay after what happened at the hospital. I would’ve come by yesterday, but I was on a job and had to keep radio silence. Sent a text.”
“I got it. Thanks. Anything else about what you do?”
“Nope.”
With a sigh, I say, “Well, I really feel like I know you better now. Guess I’ll see you around.”
Ray stares at me for a moment like he wants to say something, but then he just nods. “Later.”
When he turns away, I grab my purse from the counter where I dropped it before going to check out the modeling software, and a rolled-up picture falls out.
Ray’s picture. Even though I’m annoyed, I want him to have it.
“Ray. Wait.”
He turns, and I hold out the picture. “This is for you.”
He closes the distance between us and takes it from my hand. “What’s this?”
“Take a look.” My face heats and I bite my lip. What if he doesn’t like it? I was so excited to be finished that I never thought about how he might react.
Ray unrolls the picture and his body stills.
“It’s you.” My voice wavers. “The first time I saw you fight. You were so beautiful to me. I’ve had that image in my head since that night. And that’s me standing by the pillar.”
Long seconds pass and he doesn’t look up.
“It’s okay if you don’t like it.” I fill the silence with my anxiety. “It’s the first non-tat drawing I’ve finished since…you know. I’m a little bit rusty.”
He looks up, jaw tight, eyes burning bright with repressed emotion. The drawing shakes slightly in his hand. “It’s…” His voice cracks, breaks. “Perfect.”
My tension eases and I smile. “I’m going to finish the painting of your bike next.”
“Knew it was my bike.” His corded throat tightens as he carefully rolls up the drawing. “You wanna come?”
“Where?”
“Surveillance. Tonight. You said we never go out.”
I glance up just as Slim walks in the door. He frowns at the clients on the couch with Duncan, Rose’s empty desk, and me clearly having a personal conversation. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”
Duncan shoots me a glance, takes in the moment, and then waves Slim over to help answer one of the clients’ questions.
“Surveillance isn’t a date. I just thought…maybe we could do something that didn’t involve sex or me having a panic attack or you beating the crap out of someone.”
“I’ll bring potato chips.”
My betraying mouth waters. “Chips?”
“You said they were your vice. We’ll chill in my vehicle. You’ll have your vice. I’ll have mine.”
Despite my best efforts, a smile tugs at my lips. “I didn’t think you were paying attention.”
Ray’s eyes soften, and he cups my jaw and strokes his thumb over my cheek. “I pay attention to everything about you. I want to know what to do to make you happy. I wanna be there for you when you’re sad. I want to make this world beautiful for you again. I want you to know when you walk out the door that nothing will harm you.”
“You can’t protect me from everything, Ray.
He leans down and kisses me lightly, sending an electric current through my body that makes my toes curl. “I can try.”
Chapter 18
You’re gonna burn up my Jeep
Later that evening, Ray and I are parked in a dimly lit side street in the Tenderloin, one of the seediest areas of San Francisco. Ray’s target is somewhere to the left, which is all I can gather from the direction of his binoculars and the occasional click of his long-range camera lens.
My stomach growls softly, and I glare at the empty chip bag. Two last-minute walk-ins meant I didn’t have a chance to grab dinner before Ray showed up, and although delicious, the chips aren’t quite enough to sustain me.
From my vantage point in Ray’s Jeep, I can see through the brightly lit windows of the apartments surrounding us. I’ve never sat and stared at an apartment building for any length of time before, and I am amazed at how few people think to close their curtains when they engage in illegal activities like freebasing in their kitchens, selling drugs in their living rooms, and counting huge piles of cash.
“He hardly threatened me.”
“You don’t know him like I do.”
With a sigh, I sit on my artist’s chair. “Actually, the person I don’t know is you. If I did, I would have known how you would react and I wouldn’t have told you what happened to me. But you don’t talk much about yourself. You don’t let me in. I hardly know anything about you. We never…go out and do stuff together.” Like Doctor Death said.
Tension coils in the air between us, and my head starts to throb in time to the pounding bass of the Metallica song Duncan is streaming through the speakers.
Ray folds his arms across his chest. “What do you want to know?”
Really, there is only one thing I want to know. The question that has been burning into my brain since Doctor Death first talked about Ray. “Why does Doctor Death think you’re going to walk away? Why did he say you aren’t the man you appear to be?”
His eyes darken, and then he shrugs. “Don’t know.”
Defeated, I try an easier question. “What kind of work do you do as a PI?”
“Surveillance mostly. Spent the morning watching a building. Gotta get back out there in an hour. Came by to see if you were okay after what happened at the hospital. I would’ve come by yesterday, but I was on a job and had to keep radio silence. Sent a text.”
“I got it. Thanks. Anything else about what you do?”
“Nope.”
With a sigh, I say, “Well, I really feel like I know you better now. Guess I’ll see you around.”
Ray stares at me for a moment like he wants to say something, but then he just nods. “Later.”
When he turns away, I grab my purse from the counter where I dropped it before going to check out the modeling software, and a rolled-up picture falls out.
Ray’s picture. Even though I’m annoyed, I want him to have it.
“Ray. Wait.”
He turns, and I hold out the picture. “This is for you.”
He closes the distance between us and takes it from my hand. “What’s this?”
“Take a look.” My face heats and I bite my lip. What if he doesn’t like it? I was so excited to be finished that I never thought about how he might react.
Ray unrolls the picture and his body stills.
“It’s you.” My voice wavers. “The first time I saw you fight. You were so beautiful to me. I’ve had that image in my head since that night. And that’s me standing by the pillar.”
Long seconds pass and he doesn’t look up.
“It’s okay if you don’t like it.” I fill the silence with my anxiety. “It’s the first non-tat drawing I’ve finished since…you know. I’m a little bit rusty.”
He looks up, jaw tight, eyes burning bright with repressed emotion. The drawing shakes slightly in his hand. “It’s…” His voice cracks, breaks. “Perfect.”
My tension eases and I smile. “I’m going to finish the painting of your bike next.”
“Knew it was my bike.” His corded throat tightens as he carefully rolls up the drawing. “You wanna come?”
“Where?”
“Surveillance. Tonight. You said we never go out.”
I glance up just as Slim walks in the door. He frowns at the clients on the couch with Duncan, Rose’s empty desk, and me clearly having a personal conversation. “Someone want to tell me what’s going on?”
Duncan shoots me a glance, takes in the moment, and then waves Slim over to help answer one of the clients’ questions.
“Surveillance isn’t a date. I just thought…maybe we could do something that didn’t involve sex or me having a panic attack or you beating the crap out of someone.”
“I’ll bring potato chips.”
My betraying mouth waters. “Chips?”
“You said they were your vice. We’ll chill in my vehicle. You’ll have your vice. I’ll have mine.”
Despite my best efforts, a smile tugs at my lips. “I didn’t think you were paying attention.”
Ray’s eyes soften, and he cups my jaw and strokes his thumb over my cheek. “I pay attention to everything about you. I want to know what to do to make you happy. I wanna be there for you when you’re sad. I want to make this world beautiful for you again. I want you to know when you walk out the door that nothing will harm you.”
“You can’t protect me from everything, Ray.
He leans down and kisses me lightly, sending an electric current through my body that makes my toes curl. “I can try.”
Chapter 18
You’re gonna burn up my Jeep
Later that evening, Ray and I are parked in a dimly lit side street in the Tenderloin, one of the seediest areas of San Francisco. Ray’s target is somewhere to the left, which is all I can gather from the direction of his binoculars and the occasional click of his long-range camera lens.
My stomach growls softly, and I glare at the empty chip bag. Two last-minute walk-ins meant I didn’t have a chance to grab dinner before Ray showed up, and although delicious, the chips aren’t quite enough to sustain me.
From my vantage point in Ray’s Jeep, I can see through the brightly lit windows of the apartments surrounding us. I’ve never sat and stared at an apartment building for any length of time before, and I am amazed at how few people think to close their curtains when they engage in illegal activities like freebasing in their kitchens, selling drugs in their living rooms, and counting huge piles of cash.
