“You okay?” Denver asked.
Scrubbing his hands over his face, Stack felt the bruise swelling near his eye. His forearm was still sore. His lip split. Compared to the two who’d attacked him, he couldn’t complain.
Popping the tension from his neck, he narrowed his gaze on the first man. “He’s going to be singing in the choir.”
“Nut shot?” Denver asked.
Nodding, Stack added, “Hard.”
Cannon shrugged. “Probably doesn’t need to be procreating anyway.”
“And that one.” Stack swallowed back his disgust at seeing the second man’s distorted face. “He threatened Vanity.”
“Then he deserved it,” Denver said.
Cannon pulled off his stocking cap, ran fingers through his hair, then let his arm drop to his side. “I called Logan.”
Great. The cops. “At least he knows us.” Logan was one of Cannon’s detective friends. He was also a good, fair man. With one last glance around, Stack picked up his sister’s jewelry. Some of it had been stepped on, but the most important pieces were fine. He set them on the dresser and withdrew his phone. “I should call Tabby before the interrogation starts.”
“Go ahead,” Denver told him. “We’ll keep an eye on your friends.”
Stack went into the living room to give his sister the news. It was going to be a long night.
And the worst was yet to come.
* * *
ARMIE AND LEESE kept her company, but that just made Vanity feel worse, like an imposition. She knew they both had better things to do.
In Leese’s case, he had any number of ladies trying to get his attention. He teased back, flirted, but he didn’t leave her side.
Armie, for the most part, ignored other ladies. For the first time that Vanity could ever remember, he seemed utterly disinterested in their come-ons. With her, he smiled and chatted, but it all felt very forced.
What had started as a festive, fun night out, now felt dark and depressed. The urge to call Stack gnawed on her peace of mind. Cannon had checked in with Yvette, Denver with Cherry.
But not one word from Stack.
Twenty minutes later, when he, Denver and Cannon finally came in through the front doors, Vanity’s heart shot into overdrive. She wanted to race to him, but something held her back. Even from a distance, she felt the difference, saw it in the set of his shoulders and the remoteness in his eyes.
As Yvette went to Cannon, and Cherry ran to Denver, Vanity couldn’t seem to move.
Since she didn’t budge, neither did Leese or Armie. She tried to swallow, but emotion left a lump in her throat the size of a softball.
Something was wrong, but what? Stack hadn’t even looked at her yet. The others started giving her worried looks and still she just stood there, uncertain, worried.
Finally, after speaking to the guys, Stack looked up, saw her and, mouth grim, headed her way.
He’d been fighting. She’d known that from what Cannon and Denver had relayed during their calls, but seeing the bruises on his face was very different from just hearing about it.
He stopped in front of her. No smile, no touch. It felt like a mile separated them. “You ready to go?”
Her heart plummeted. His cold eyes told her what he hadn’t yet said.
“Vanity?”
Nodding, she whispered, “What’s wrong?” As she reached out for him, he leaned away. Crushed, she retreated, then sought her pride as a defense. “I drove my own car.”
“I’ll follow you home.”
Home. She’d begun to think that meant the same to him as it did to her, but something tonight had changed him. “Fine.” Taking her coat from the back of her chair, she pulled it on and tugged her purse strap up to her shoulder.
Thinking to tell everyone goodbye, she looked up and realized she and Stack were now alone at the table.
She wasn’t great at these group-type relationships. Did their absence mean a rejection of her, that they knew of a problem, or were they just giving her and Stack privacy?
She searched the room, but the only one to make eye contact was Leese. As soon as she looked at him, he started in her direction.
Bunching up with barely tempered animosity, Stack took a stance.
Oh, no. Vanity didn’t want a private conflict to spill over to one of Stack’s friends.
Moving in front of Stack, she hurriedly told Leese, “I just wanted to say goodbye. We’re heading out now.”
His hard gaze cut beyond her to Stack. When his eyes met hers again, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yes.” She forced a tight smile. “Of course. Thank you.”
Scrubbing his hands over his face, Stack felt the bruise swelling near his eye. His forearm was still sore. His lip split. Compared to the two who’d attacked him, he couldn’t complain.
Popping the tension from his neck, he narrowed his gaze on the first man. “He’s going to be singing in the choir.”
“Nut shot?” Denver asked.
Nodding, Stack added, “Hard.”
Cannon shrugged. “Probably doesn’t need to be procreating anyway.”
“And that one.” Stack swallowed back his disgust at seeing the second man’s distorted face. “He threatened Vanity.”
“Then he deserved it,” Denver said.
Cannon pulled off his stocking cap, ran fingers through his hair, then let his arm drop to his side. “I called Logan.”
Great. The cops. “At least he knows us.” Logan was one of Cannon’s detective friends. He was also a good, fair man. With one last glance around, Stack picked up his sister’s jewelry. Some of it had been stepped on, but the most important pieces were fine. He set them on the dresser and withdrew his phone. “I should call Tabby before the interrogation starts.”
“Go ahead,” Denver told him. “We’ll keep an eye on your friends.”
Stack went into the living room to give his sister the news. It was going to be a long night.
And the worst was yet to come.
* * *
ARMIE AND LEESE kept her company, but that just made Vanity feel worse, like an imposition. She knew they both had better things to do.
In Leese’s case, he had any number of ladies trying to get his attention. He teased back, flirted, but he didn’t leave her side.
Armie, for the most part, ignored other ladies. For the first time that Vanity could ever remember, he seemed utterly disinterested in their come-ons. With her, he smiled and chatted, but it all felt very forced.
What had started as a festive, fun night out, now felt dark and depressed. The urge to call Stack gnawed on her peace of mind. Cannon had checked in with Yvette, Denver with Cherry.
But not one word from Stack.
Twenty minutes later, when he, Denver and Cannon finally came in through the front doors, Vanity’s heart shot into overdrive. She wanted to race to him, but something held her back. Even from a distance, she felt the difference, saw it in the set of his shoulders and the remoteness in his eyes.
As Yvette went to Cannon, and Cherry ran to Denver, Vanity couldn’t seem to move.
Since she didn’t budge, neither did Leese or Armie. She tried to swallow, but emotion left a lump in her throat the size of a softball.
Something was wrong, but what? Stack hadn’t even looked at her yet. The others started giving her worried looks and still she just stood there, uncertain, worried.
Finally, after speaking to the guys, Stack looked up, saw her and, mouth grim, headed her way.
He’d been fighting. She’d known that from what Cannon and Denver had relayed during their calls, but seeing the bruises on his face was very different from just hearing about it.
He stopped in front of her. No smile, no touch. It felt like a mile separated them. “You ready to go?”
Her heart plummeted. His cold eyes told her what he hadn’t yet said.
“Vanity?”
Nodding, she whispered, “What’s wrong?” As she reached out for him, he leaned away. Crushed, she retreated, then sought her pride as a defense. “I drove my own car.”
“I’ll follow you home.”
Home. She’d begun to think that meant the same to him as it did to her, but something tonight had changed him. “Fine.” Taking her coat from the back of her chair, she pulled it on and tugged her purse strap up to her shoulder.
Thinking to tell everyone goodbye, she looked up and realized she and Stack were now alone at the table.
She wasn’t great at these group-type relationships. Did their absence mean a rejection of her, that they knew of a problem, or were they just giving her and Stack privacy?
She searched the room, but the only one to make eye contact was Leese. As soon as she looked at him, he started in her direction.
Bunching up with barely tempered animosity, Stack took a stance.
Oh, no. Vanity didn’t want a private conflict to spill over to one of Stack’s friends.
Moving in front of Stack, she hurriedly told Leese, “I just wanted to say goodbye. We’re heading out now.”
His hard gaze cut beyond her to Stack. When his eyes met hers again, he asked, “You okay?”
“Yes.” She forced a tight smile. “Of course. Thank you.”
