Edge of the Enforcer

Chapter Twelve

Thanksgiving Day was cold, with a small glittering sun in the gray sky. Lindsey carefully carried her pies up to the Mediterranean-style mansion, shivering in the moist chill air. Brrr. Unhappily her black secondhand jacket didn’t look sophisticated enough to wear today. Shoot, Xavier’s Tiburon home would make Armani feel underdressed—let alone a Texas ranch girl.

But Abby had said the attire of the day was nice, not fancy, so Lindsey’d donned her favorite black jeans, heeled black boots, and a wide silver-encrusted belt. It wasn’t as if she’d accumulated much of a wardrobe. She sighed, thinking of all her clothes back in Texas. So many of them had been gifts—like the Texas-themed T-shirts from Mandy. Or the western shirts from Daddy, which she’d worn until the material was almost threadbare. She never had nightmares when she wore one of Daddy’s flannel shirts.

At least on a trip to the secondhand store, she’d found a nicely festive red, satin shirt. The neckline even dipped far enough to flash a bit of cleavage. Only a bit.

Mama had once lectured her sister, Melissa, saying holiday meals were intended to show off turkey breasts, not women’s breasts.

Don’t think of home, dummy. Missing what she couldn’t have never helped anything. But…dammit, it was supposed to be her turn to have Thanksgiving dinner at her house this year. Instead they’d all be at Melissa’s.

Melissa and Gary with little Emily, Amanda, and Mama. Lindsey smiled slightly. Mama was flighty as a hummingbird, but she had a ranch-size heart. Lindsey bit her lip, remembering lullabies sung to drive away night terrors, big squishy hugs for lost pets, huge productions for each girl’s birthday, and special-made chocolate-chip cookies for when a best friend was mean.

There was something wonderful about being loved so completely. I want to go home. Now.

Before she could free a hand to ring the bell, Xavier opened the door. “Happy Thanks—” He used a finger under her chin to tilt her face up. “Are you all right, pet?”

“My liege—I mean, Xavier—I’m fine. Maybe a tad homesick.” She curled her lips upward.

His frown indicated her attempt had failed to reassure him. “Abby said you had sisters. In Texas?” He motioned her into the house.

“Uh. Right.” Lordy, what had she babbled to her friends? How much had they shared, not knowing better? “Who all is coming today?”

“Eight total. No children this year. Rona’s sons are at their father’s. Simon’s son is with his ex.” He smiled slightly. “Abby’s parents are sailing in the Caribbean, and her good sister is skiing with a friend’s family.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a dinner for all us strays,” Lindsey said, her voice shakier than she liked.

“It’s our pleasure. Now go drop the pies off and come out and talk.” Xavier stepped back, releasing her, although the concerned expression on his face said he’d be keeping an eye on her.

In the kitchen, Abby gave her a hug and sent her off with a bottle of wine to join the others.

In the living room, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the Bay, framing a view of fog-shrouded Angel Island. The fireplace held a cheerfully crackling fire. A Dom from Dark Haven occupied one of the white leather chairs. In tight jeans and a stretchy Henley shirt, Dixon sat on the chair arm, talking with Rona on the adjacent sofa.

Standing off to one side, Simon, in his usual white long-sleeved shirt and black slacks, broke off his conversation with Xavier. “Lindsey.”

When Lindsey stopped beside him, he touched her cheek with gentle fingers. “All healed up. Good.”

She felt her homesickness recede. Her family was in Texas, but her friends were here. “Happy Thanksgiving, Simon.”

“And to you, pet.” He held out his glass, and she topped off his drink. “Thank you.”

As he returned to Xavier, Lindsey walked across the room to the others.

Dixon bounced up to give her a hug. “Hey, girlfriend! Love the hair!” He tugged at her new red-and-green highlights.

“I’m getting ready for Christmas.”

“Awesomesauce! Let’s dress up for Dark Haven as Santa’s elves.”

“Oh sure.” Lindsey grinned. “I’ll consider it only if you talk Xavier into a Santa costume. With a big belly and a white beard and—”

Dixon doubled up at the idea.

“Lindsey.” Her grin faded at the sound of Xavier’s voice.

She turned to see his black unreadable gaze on her. Surely he hadn’t heard her.

“No.”

Oh God, she was dead meat.

As the men returned to their talk, Simon backhanded Xavier—in his awesomely flat belly.

Snickering, Dixon shoulder-bumped her. “Maybe you should avoid the club until after New Year’s.”

“No shit.”

“Well, on to other topics,” Dixon said and turned to the Dom next to him. “Have you met Tad?”

Brown-haired. Fairly muscular. Full lips. Was this the so-called Dom who only wanted sex?

“In passing.” Hands occupied, Lindsey nodded at Tad. “Nice to meet you.”

The man didn’t stand—Lindsey’s father would have frowned at his lapse in manners—and held his glass out to be filled. “A pleasure, Lindsey.”

Rona’s expressionless face showed she wasn’t impressed with the man. It just went to prove Dixon really did have crummy taste in boyfriends.

And this guy looked like he was all hat and no cattle. She’d definitely have to keep an eye on Dix. Quiz him a bit. Nudge him along to a better selection of man. Meanwhile, Lindsey poured wine and dropped down beside Rona on the sofa.

Carrying a platter of porcini mushroom tartlets, Abby came in. “Here’s something to munch on, but don’t ruin your appetites.” As she set the plate on the coffee table, the doorbell chime sounded. “I’ve got this one,” she told Xavier.

Sitting back, Lindsey glanced around, feeling like when her high school hosted a father-daughter night and she’d had no one to take. It sucked deVries’s assignment to Seattle had run over, and he hadn’t been able to return in time.

Yet, perhaps his absence was best. In her world, taking someone to a Thanksgiving dinner meant serious. What had she been thinking, agreeing to go steady with deVries? Sure, exclusiveness was logical to prevent disease and everything, but…what they had was far too much like a…a real relationship.

And she knew better.

It wasn’t safe for him. And it wasn’t safe for her because if—when—she had to run and leave him behind, her heart was going to bust into a million pieces.

Even worse, what would her leaving do to him?

Since she’d had the meltdown at Dark Haven two weeks ago, they’d been together each night—and she’d loved every minute.

She’d believed she wanted someone intellectual, refined, and aristocratic, into opera and fancy restaurants. But deVries enjoyed home cooking—which was what she actually preferred to cook. He was definitely super intelligent, but…also super blunt. He liked fun movies and grilling and going on long hikes. And so did she.

She’d begun to realize her dreams were something left over from childhood—and not about finding a person who would match her likes. Who she could live with. When deVries wasn’t in Dom mode and deliberately making her uneasy, she was comfortable with him, whether arguing over which television show to watch or trading him cookies for gardening work. He was surprisingly fun to be around.

And the sex was off the scales. Especially without a condom. The feel of his bare cock inside her… She shivered.

Okay, no more thinking like that. He’d probably come over tonight, so she’d save her carnal thoughts for the appropriate time.

And tell her heart to stay out of the game entirely.

When Xavier left the room, Simon walked over to the couch. “How are you doing with the new job, Lindsey?”

“I love it.”

“That’s excellent, although you’re going to disappoint Mrs. Martinez. She hoped you’d return.”

Warmth flooded Lindsey’s heart. “Can you give her a hug from me?” However, a squeeze didn’t seem nearly enough to pay the sweet woman back for all her help. Perhaps, since she had a good paycheck coming in, she could do something more tangible. Her Rayburn family was famous for their Christmas tins filled with homemade candy. This year, she wasn’t known as a Rayburn, but her San Francisco friends deserved some treats, didn’t they?

A guttural voice from beside Lindsey said, “What kind of a hug you want delivered? I’ll see it done, Tex.”

To her surprise, she looked up into deVries’s face.

The corners of his mouth rose as he tugged her up and into a long embrace.

Resting her face against his wide chest, she inhaled the fragrance of his woodsy masculine soap. When his cheek rubbed her hair, the feeling of being treasured shook her. Even knowing she was heartsore and vulnerable, she melted right into his embrace.

With reluctance, she lifted her head. “DeVries. What are you doing here?”

“I finished early and caught a ride down with a friend.” He brushed his mouth over hers in a light, affectionate greeting and whispered, “Each time you call me deVries from now on will be rewarded with something nasty. Got that, little girl?”

The threat in his voice sent goose bumps down her arms. “I—right.” Her gaze dropped. He’d asked her to call him Zander more than once. But darn it, she didn’t want to be sucked into caring for him. She mustn’t.

“Good.” As if they were a long-standing couple, he tucked her against his side as he walked over to greet Simon and Xavier.

As Simon glanced from her to de—Zander, his brows drew together. “Zander. Good to see you.”

When Lindsey looked up, Zander only smiled slightly and squeezed her closer. Unlike a few previous boyfriends who’d tried to display ownership, he didn’t grope or kiss her neck. He merely kept his arm around her, showing the others he considered her to be his date.

She shouldn’t be his date. Shouldn’t encourage him.

“Have you been shooting this week?” he asked Simon. “Got a new GLOCK you might like.”

As the men talked, Lindsey stood stiffly and…the hell with it. She didn’t want to think about the future or having to leave or dying or hurting her friends. Not now. Today, there was nothing more she wanted than to be right where she was. With a sigh, she slipped her arm around his waist and snuggled against his side.

He stopped midsentence, bent to kiss the top of her head, and continued with his conversation.

She’d surprised him, she realized, and pleased him. The knowledge set up a sweet glow inside her.

After a few minutes, she noticed Rona had disappeared—probably to help Abby. She pulled away slightly.

He looked down. “Babe?”

“I need to help in the kitchen.”

He nodded. “Those pies yours?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Any chance you saved one at your place?”

Criminy, did he know her so well? She had. Despite her attempt to smother her smile, she saw the knowledge in his eyes.

“Good girl.”

When he let her go, she hesitated, wanting only to snuggle back up against him; however, both Xavier and Simon were watching her. Studying her.

Jeez.

In the kitchen, Abby was putting a pot of potatoes on the stove and talking with Rona.

“Hey, y’all. Need help?” Lindsey leaned on the creamy-colored granite-topped island. With ample windows and golden-oak cupboards, the high-ceilinged kitchen seemed filled with light despite the gray sky outside. She moved a bouquet of dark red roses off to one side and noticed they matched the hand-painted backsplash tiles.

“You can dish something up—and I’m talking information.” Setting rolls on a baking sheet, Rona raised her brows at Lindsey. “Last I heard, you thought Zander was an asshole. Now Abby says I missed part of the story. I’d say a lot of the story. Like when did he get elevated to teddy bear status?”

“Teddy bear?”

“Huggable.” Rona put the last roll on the pan, picked up her wine, and gestured with the glass. “Talk fast.”

As heat filled Lindsey’s cheeks, Abby gave her a sympathetic wink.

“Uh, okay. I ran into him when he was setting up security for a battered women’s shelter where I was doing interviews, and we talked. Then he came to my house, but he pissed me off, so I picked on him at the club, only he…kind of gave me a lesson in manners…but that upset me, so he took me home with him.”

Rona choked on her wine.

Giggling too hard to speak, Abby made a continue gesture with her hand.

“And he kept showing up at my place with food without calling first or anything. I have no clue why I even let him in the door.”

From the way her friends were snickering, they were jumping to all kinds of ideas.

Probably pretty accurate ones. She flushed.

“Oh right,” Dixon said behind her. “Like anyone in their correct mind would close a door on the Enforcer.” He fanned himself. “Ooo, BFF, that’s megalicious hot!”

She pointed at him. “You are not helping.” Unfortunately, he was right; Zander could simply look at her, and she got damp. “So, Dix, what’s the story with you and Tad? I thought you said”—she dropped her voice—“he only wanted sex, and you were going to kick him to the curb.”

Dixon’s happy smile faded, making his face gaunt. “He does. I was.”

Leaning across the island, Rona patted Dixon’s hand. “Why did you bring him to the dinner?”

Dixon shrugged. “I’d asked him to Thanksgiving before, and he was looking forward to hanging out with the San Francisco big shots.”

Simon and Xavier were rich and well-known. Lindsey wrinkled her nose. Tad was using Dixon; she knew exactly how the realization could hurt.

“Oh honey.” Abby walked over to give Dixon a hug. “That really bites.”

He sagged into her. “Kinda. But I saw we weren’t going anywhere. He’s not even a top, let alone a Dom.”

And Dixon wanted—needed—a Dom, preferably one with a touch of sadism in his soul. “Honeybunches, don’t you worry. You’re going to find someone wonderful. This guy is just a li’l stepping stone on the way there.”

Even as his face brightened, Lindsey was considering. They could rearrange the seating at the dinner table, so Tad would be seated at the other end from Simon and Xavier. Once there, she and Rona would draw the jerk out…and the Enforcer could flatten the smarmy piece of bull-pucky.

***

Leaving the men in front of the football game, deVries took his beer and went in search of Lindsey. Dinner had been great, the company—with the exception of Tad—lively and intelligent.

But his woman had seemed more sad than normal.

In the kitchen, Rona and Abby were seated at the island, quietly chatting and cleaning off the turkey bones.

With a yark of excitement, Abby’s half-grown dog dashed toward deVries, floppy ears bouncing as it skidded on the smooth floor. The little body hit deVries’s boots with a thump, and the pup gave an embarrassed whine.

“Sorry,” Abby said. “Blackie hasn’t grown into his feet yet.”

“No problem.” He bent and ruffled the soft curly fur. “You’ll get there, buddy. Give it time.”

Blackie’s fluffy tail dusted the floor with the pup’s enthusiastic agreement.

“Looking for Lindsey?” Rona asked.

“Yeah.”

She pointed to the French doors leading outside.

“Thanks.” As the pup returned to his job—cleaning up dropped tidbits—deVries went out onto the wide stone patio. After the warmth of the house, the cold briny air was a welcome wake-up call.

Leaning on a railing, Lindsey was looking out at the bay and talking on a black cell phone.

Black? Wasn’t her cell phone red?

“I miss you too, sissie.” Her voice broke, and she wiped her hand over her cheek. “Maybe someday I can come home. Until then, y’all have to be careful. Okay, honeybunches?”

Seeing her cry put an ache in his chest. Why hadn’t she gone home? And what did “sissie” need to be careful about?

He and Lindsey needed to have a long talk—but not during a party. He silently backed a step to return to the house.

“Bye.” Still sniffling, she pitched the cell phone in a high arc past the cliff and into the roiling water of the bay.

What the hell? DeVries stared. Why would she throw away her phone? No…wait…it hadn’t been her red smartphone. Had she just tossed a burner phone? The cheap, cash-bought cells were often used to avoid being traced…by people who worried about being traced. Something wasn’t right here.

He stepped forward, deliberately scraping his foot on the flat stones.

She jumped and spun around. “Oh! De—Zander!” As he walked over, she gave him such a fake smile he wanted to shake her. “Uh, hi.” Her voice wavered before she firmed it up. “It’s nice out here, isn’t it? Xavier has a gorgeous view of the bridge.”

“You missed a tear.” With his thumb, deVries swiped away the dampness on her cheeks. “You running from the law, babe?”

Her eyes rounded. A second later, her chin came up. “Do I look like a criminal? Lordy, what a question.”

Great nonanswer. If she wasn’t a felon, who was she avoiding? Fake identity. Burner phone. Twitchy about being in the open. Definitely on the run. Forestalling her retreat, he put a hand on the railing on each side of her, trapping her.

She still smelled like the pumpkin pies she’d baked. Edible. With grunt of exasperation, he kissed her cheek, her soft hair with the new glints of red and green, and the curve of her neck.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “This isn’t the time.”

“There is only now.” Unable to resist, he snuggled her against him. Despite her firm body and lush ass, she seemed far too fragile. “Wish you’d tell me what’s going on. Let me help, Tex.”

The stiffness melted from her, and she leaned her head against his chest. Finest feeling in the world, taking a woman’s weight like that.

“I can’t…Zander.”

Hearing her say his name was good. Very good. Didn’t make up for her refusal, though. “Why not?”

Her fingers clenched, wadding his shirt, before she pushed him away. “I can’t.” She looked into his face, shook her head, and walked toward the house.

Too pissed off to try to continue the non-discussion, he let her escape. “Can’t,” huh? He was seriously regretting he’d stopped his computer search on her. At the time, he hadn’t felt right about investigating a bedmate.

Now? Now, Miss Nonexistent Adair had just won herself a free ticket to a full-blown background investigation. When he finished, he’d know the color of panties she’d worn in college.

His lips quirked. Probably a bright red.

Once he knew the story, he’d do what needed to be done to fix her life.

And if she didn’t think he should get involved? Well, that would be a shame, since he had no intention of backing off.

Pacing the patio until his annoyance decreased, he felt his phone vibrate.

The display showed Blevins. “What?”

“Job came up. South America. Need you on a plane ASAP.”

Through the French doors, he could see Lindsey talking with Rona. Smiling valiantly. He admired the little submissive’s strength. Admired a lot about her. Wanted more from her.

Needed to know what trouble she was in.

“Iceman?” Blevins prompted.

But if he stayed the relationship course, it wasn’t fair to offer her a body that might return home riddled with bullets. “I’m done, Blevins. Remove me from the list.”

“Shit.” After a brief silence. “I figured you were getting close to this point. I get it. All the same, can you take this one last job? It’s a kidnapping, Iceman. The boy’s not even ten.”

Fuck. Blevins knew he wouldn’t refuse. DeVries watched joy fill Lindsey’s face as she played with the pup. He wanted her sweetness. “Last one. After this, I’m out. Completely. No calls; no contact. Agreed?”

“Your choice.” Blevins hesitated. “Thanks.”

“Yeah.” Hopefully he wouldn’t get blown away before he could come back and claim his woman.

***

On Friday, Lindsey dropped into the chair at the small desk in a corner of her living room. Hanging out in the kitchen at the Thanksgiving dinner, she’d missed the football game, and after Zander got her all upset, she’d not even asked the guys about the score.

With high hopes, she called up an online newspaper. Scowled. Her fingers twitched with the urge to slap the numbers right off the monitor.

The Cowboys had lost to the Saints because of some stupid fumble. Seriously, what was with that? C’mon, guys, you can do better. Perhaps it was best she hadn’t been able to watch the game yesterday; Zander had threatened to gag her last time.

And—the nerve of the jerk—he’d said since she lived in California now, she should follow the 49ers.

When hell freezes over.

With a frustrated grunt, she switched the papers to the San Antonio Express-News. Half breathing, she waded through the articles. Muggings. Drug busts. Immigrant woes. Murders. Nothing new.

That was good news. At least they hadn’t announced her arrest—LINDSEY RAYBURN PARNELL CAPTURED IN SAN FRANCISCO. Visualizing the imaginary headline sent a chill up her arms.

If only something would go wrong for Parnell and Ricks. Why didn’t someone catch them?

She shivered. Ricks’s voice was always sliding into her nightmares. “Be a while before Parnell can pick you up. Enough time to do you. He doesn’t care if you’re damaged.” He’d ripped her shirt, shoved her to the floor, and unbuckled her belt. She’d fought, but he was twice her size and weight. When his fist had slammed into her cheekbone, her face felt as if it had broken in half. Eyes blurring, she’d battled to scratch him, hit him—and he’d snickered. He’d been excited by her struggle. And then he’d punched her over and over until she was retching and crying as he’d unzipped her jeans.

God. She swallowed hard. It was in the past. Over. He hadn’t succeeded, and she’d gotten away. Arms covered in blood from the window, but free.

If there was ever a next time, though—the upsurge of sickness made her swallow hard—if he caught her, her rape would be…ugly.

Unable to sit longer, she walked through the house, trying to lose the taste of fear. Ricks wasn’t here; neither was Parnell. She was in San Francisco, buried in a city, with a new name. Perfectly safe as long as she was careful. And she’d be careful.

And darn well watch her back more carefully.

How could she have let Zander sneak up on her? How long had he been listening? Even worse, he’d seen her throw away her disposable phone.

Damn man. Her life would be much easier if she could just brush him off.

However, he was so…so amazing. Like at Thanksgiving dinner with Dixon’s jerky wanna-be Dom. She smiled. Tad had insisted a “real” submissive wouldn’t safeword out, and Zander’d told him, “I’m trying to see it from your point of view, but can’t get my head that fucking far up my ass.” The silence afterward had been glorious.

And Zander wanted to help her. His offer made her all quivery inside—and terrified her. He couldn’t fix her problems. If he tried, he could end up arrested or hurt.

If she only knew what was on those flash drives. If there were anything there to incriminate Parnell or Ricks, she’d take the risk of sending off the information. Everywhere. All the law enforcement agencies in Texas. The newspapers.

If only she could break the encryption.

Maybe she should contact a different law enforcement agency. Surely not all of them were corrupt.

And how did that work out for you last time, honeybunches? She rubbed the scars on her arms, remembering how the glass had ripped the skin away. Hadn’t worked so well, had it?

Smuggling weapons and drugs meant the bad guys had money to buy off just about anyone. What was the life of one Texas woman when compared to hundreds of thousands of dollars?

Zander wouldn’t sell her out.

She sat back at the computer. No, he wouldn’t. He might be gruff and rude and pushy, but his muttered comments during action movies showed his inflexible opinions about what was right. He really was like a hero in a western—the lone sheriff ready to stand up to an entire gang of villains.

She took a sip of her coffee. Having seen him take on a gang, she knew he could do it too.

God, she loved him.

Her gasp drew coffee into the wrong pipe, and she burst out coughing.

No. Absolutely not. Bad, stupid, insane. Texas girls on the run do NOT fall for snoopy, controlling Doms. Especially sadist Doms. “I need my head examined. And to be fitted for a straitjacket. And to be put on some psychotropic medications.”

Reality check, please.

Talking sternly to crazy people rarely worked—and it didn’t this time with her. She wasn’t listening to herself speaking reasonably. Nooo, all her insides were doing a squishy happy dance. Love him, love him, love him.

She was pretty darned sure he didn’t feel the same.

On Thanksgiving, he’d left soon after their talk on the patio. He said he’d been called away. Yet if he worked for Simon, how could he be called away? And Xavier had told Zander, “Be careful.”

Be careful of what? Where had Zander gone? Well, whatever he was up to apparently wasn’t safe.

Her life wasn’t safe either. So falling in love with him was doubly stupid.

Dump him. Dump him now.

No.