Twice As Delicious Read online

  I wasn’t built for this criminal underground, run all night, hide all day, high speed chase sort of lifestyle, and as a result, seeing it firsthand brought on this scared little girl I’d turned into. Or maybe the dead body last night was the trigger. I swallowed hard at the sobering reality and held my stomach, which now felt like I’d been sucker punched hard in the gut.

  Dead bodies. Dodging real bullets.

  What the hell? Was this my life now?

  Nothing I’d ever seen or done before could’ve prepared me for this. My parents were unassuming, straight-laced, salt of the earth, working class people. I tried to picture them and how they’d handle themselves if this were to happen to them.

  I couldn’t.

  Impossible.

  It would never happen.

  Not in a million years.

  Yeah, I’d thought that about myself too, until now.

  I wished they lived close enough to see them. I wished we were emotionally close. Again, a first. They’d been good parents, just…distant. And while I’d thought that had made me into the self-reliant, independent person I was today, it also made me realize how alone I was. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt I needed them, or anyone. Maybe as a teen. It was definitely before I started high school. But suddenly, as a result of this ambush at my kitchen—a scene from an action-adventure movie, I felt like a kid again. Weak, unstable, unsure of myself, thoroughly unable to protect myself from harm. Legitimately so, but it was still so foreign to realize I wasn’t enough, that I couldn’t rely solely on myself to find my way out of this incredibly dangerous situation.

  Again, an image surfaced. I stood in my catering kitchen—my second home—happy and sated because of two men’s wild-sex-fantasies-come-to-life one moment, and crumpled on the floor with bullets flying overhead the next. All the food I’d prepared was bullet ridden, glasses and dishes had shattered and were now littered everywhere, and the shrimp I’d been cooking on the stovetop remained there. My place was trashed. No way did I have a backup for this scenario. My clients would surely raise hell tomorrow when no one showed up with the food they’d ordered.

  Shut down due to unexpected shooting rampage.

  Food unsafe due to unexpectedly high lead content.

  Those excuses were sure to go over well with the clientele.

  This was a disaster. My heart began to race again and my chest tightened, making the simple act of breathing air an effort. And there I was last night, living under the mistaken notion that seeing a dead body was the worst thing that could’ve happened to me. That was nothing compared to today.

  I wiped my hand over my face, felt the tears that must’ve fallen without me even noticing.

  More tears.

  Brushing them away with the back of my hand, I took another breath. This one filled my lungs all the way down to my diaphragm. Tears wouldn’t get me out of this mess. Neither would weakness. Or feeling sorry for myself.

  I took another deep breath, then another, and I felt Dane’s squeeze.

  What I needed to feel was angry.

  Mad as hell.

  Irate and vengeful.

  I’d done nothing wrong and yet I was running. People tried to kill me. Criminals. Murderers. They should’ve been the ones fleeing and hiding. Yet, I’d practically rolled over just because I saw something I shouldn’t have. My place of operation was in ruins and my business would go under. All that money, sweat equity and time down the drain because of what?

  Because of me.

  Because I acted like the one who’d done something wrong.

  The cops should’ve been my first call. Maybe if the police had been notified, I wouldn’t be in this mess.

  But the second that assertion surfaced, somewhere lurking in the corner of my thoughts, I knew it was wrong. Those men who shot up my place weren’t afraid of being seen. They didn’t give a crap that it was broad daylight when they pulled out all their guns and opened fire. They didn’t care who was inside, if kids were around, or who was innocent. In all likelihood, just as Leo had warned, these men didn’t give a fuck about the law. They were above it. Or, they had the authorities in their pockets.

  Knowing that, how was I supposed to keep going? They’d missed me this time, but what about the next? Was it smart to just blow this town, stuff all my worldly possessions in the back of my car, and start over somewhere new?

  God, I couldn’t believe I was entertaining the idea. At least I was alive. I still had a pulse. I couldn’t run a catering business if I’d bled out and died on that cold tile floor. That was my takeaway from all this. My upside. People died every day, every minute. I wasn’t one of them. Yet.

  Closing my eyes for a moment, I took in another long breath. The faint smell of Dane’s cologne and fresh smelling shirt filled my nostrils. A reminder that he and Leo had protected me. They were still buffering me from harm. Driving me away from it. Saving me.

  When I opened my eyes, I realized we were at Dane’s condo already, heading down the ramp to the underground parking. When my phone buzzed in my purse placed in the front passenger seat, I could think again. That call or text could’ve been from anyone. My staff, clients, suppliers, maybe even my landlord at the kitchen. It was only a matter of time before he found out.

  Pulling out of Dane’s soothing embrace, I reached for the purse. I saw the call was from Jane. Shit, if she or any of my staff went over to my kitchen now…no one was safe there. Without reading her message, I scrambled to send a text back, but as we were probably three levels underground, my message didn’t go through.

  Leo slowed the vehicle and reversed into a parking spot. When he turned off the car, he gripped the steering wheel with one hand as he looked back, smiling. Yes, the bodyguard, tense and on alert, smiled. Climbing from his seat, he walked around and opened my door, offered his hand to help me out. Taking it, I stepped out and didn’t hesitate to walk right into his open arms, only stopping when there was no space between our bodies and his arms were wrapped about my waist. I felt his hard body, heard the beating of his heart.

  “Thank you,” I spoke into his chest and gladly accepted his hold. I lifted my head, turning to meet Dane’s eyes. “Thank you both. I should’ve listened to you. If I’d just done what you said, we’d still be here at your place, and my kitchen wouldn’t look like a war zone right now.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Dane said firmly, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze. “You did nothing wrong. No one deserves what just happened.”

  Leo caught sight of his men in the second SUV and gave the driver a nod. “Let’s get you upstairs.” With his arm around my shoulder and Dane’s hand wrapped around mine, they quickly led me to the private elevator up to Dane’s suite.

  “Are you sure we’re safe here?” I asked on the ride up the elevator, breaking the silence. Even though we’d just left four oversized security guys in the garage, I had to ask.

  I heard that squeaky, frightened little voice again and cleared my throat. It sounded nothing like me. But then again, I also found myself looking in every direction around the space, dreading the possibility that we were still in danger. And we were on an elevator, for crying out loud. “Do you think anyone followed us?”

  “Yes, we’re good here,” Leo said. “And yes, they could’ve put a tail on us. But if O’Sullivan has tech people on his staff, which I’m sure he does, it won’t take them more than an hour to know roughly where you are anyway.”

  The elevator dinged and the doors opened.

  “How do you mean?” I asked as I stepped off with them.

  “That phone of yours. They can trace you with no problem at all,” Leo added, pointing to my purse.

  “You’re not thinking of smashing it to pieces, are you? Like in the movies? Please say you’re not going to do that. I’ve seen enough of my life broken and shattered today.”

  He flashed a glance at Dane, who was about to slip his key into the front door. “I would, but maybe it’s time we face these men on our
own terms…here on our turf.”

  “I agree,” Dane told him. “This stops now.”

  “So, I get to keep my phone?”

  Dane pushed the door open and ushered me inside, a sure, strong hand at the small of my back. “Yes. You’re safe here. No one can get onto this floor without a key and only Leo and I have them. Not even the concierge. You can relax.”

  I laughed at that. “Sure. I’ll relax,” I replied sarcastically. “I need to make some calls. To my staff at least, so no one goes near the kitchen.” Just as I uttered the last word, my phone buzzed again in my purse. “Then I need a shower.” I plucked at my shirt and a small cloud of flour dust came off it. I was dirty and sticky—God, it felt like ages ago when they’d used my honey in a way I’d never imagined. And the butt plug Dane had brought. I closed my eyes and clenched down. I was sore there. I was so glad Dane had taken it out after we were done. And my pussy? It throbbed from their very thorough and pleasant use. But that had been before…everything.

  “Of course,” Dane said and nodded to Leo. “Do what you need. You know where everything is.”

  They helped me settle in for a few minutes. Leo sat with me, quickly wrapping me in a warm blanket, while Dane went into the kitchen and brought me a bottled water, opening the lid and handing it to me. I didn’t have to ask. This was their nature, to be kind, caring, and protective. Had I not been shot at within the last hour, I might’ve been able to do something in response to the continued throbbing between my legs from just being close to them. But at this point, acting on that impulse wasn’t smart. They knew it and so did I. This was the time for getting all our asses out of this mess. One way or another.

  I was sure they were going to come up with some idea then try to convince me to go along with it. To stay high in the sky in this gorgeous penthouse. Safe. Locked down.

  I needed other plans. I had to get myself out of this mess on my own if it were the last thing I did. Of course, I had no fucking clue exactly how, just yet.

  Dane got to his feet first. “You’re okay on your own?”

  Was I? I knew he meant sitting in the living room, but I had to think bigger than that. I was okay. Or, I would be. I nodded.

  “We’ll just be down the hall,” he said to me. “Give a holler if you need anything at all.”

  “I will,” I replied, offering a small smile. “Thanks.”

  “Let’s talk in my office,” he said to Leo and they swiftly moved off and disappeared around the corner.

  My phone buzzed with a text from Jane yet again. Unlocking the screen, I tapped out a reply.

  Me: Hi, Jane. Did you get my last message?

  Jane: Harper! OMG you’re alive!

  Shit. She had to have seen something. The news? Online? Maybe a phone call was in order after all. I navigated back to the phone app and tapped on her name to call her. She answered on the first ring.

  “Hi, boss! God, I’m so glad you’re not dead right now.”

  I rolled my eyes at her choice of words but accepted the good-natured gist of it. “Thanks. Did you go back to the kitchen after you left earlier?”

  “Yeah. I forgot to grab my spare uniform. Made it to the corner just as I saw those men put you in their SUV.”

  My eyes widened and my heart skipped a beat. “Did you go inside?”

  “No way. The place was shot to hell. I took one peek through the glass in the front window and got the hell out of there. What happened?”

  “I’m not getting into it now. I need you to phone the rest of the staff and tell them not to go into work until I get in touch with them.”

  “Okay, no problem. Were those the guys from the event last night? The ones who wouldn’t leave the O’Sullivan kitchen?” She sighed. “I’d recognize those two dark and dangerous sex gods anywhere. They were hot as hell last night at the party. I mean, I was a little jellie at all the attention the two of them sent your way and everything. But whoah, weren’t they the tall glasses—”

  “Jane,” I said to cut her off. I’d grown used to her naturally bubbly personality and usually loved to chat, but I wasn’t feeling it now. Maybe all this rambling and unnecessary openness was her way of processing the fact that my kitchen—the home base of her place of employment—looked like a crime scene in an episode of some suspense drama series. Chalking it up to that, I added, “Yes, they were the guys from last night. And yes, I’m with them now. They saved my life.”

  Maybe she heard the seriousness of my tone. I hadn’t spoken about Leo and Dane in a playful way. I might have if this conversation had occurred between the honey incident and the shootout, but a near death experience made me realize the guys were more than just man candy.

  “Sorry, I shouldn’t have said I was jellie or called them sex gods. I meant…those gentlemen.”

  “It’s fine. Could you just do what I asked? Reach out to the others for me.”

  “Right. You got it. I’ve got numbers for all the other site coordinators and servers in my phone. I’ll tell them to keep away until one of us reaches out to tell them otherwise.”

  “Thank you so much.”

  She paused. “So, uh, can I ask you something else?” she asked.

  “Sure.”

  “The gigs tomorrow, are they a go? I mean, I saw all the shell casings around the back, and the broken glass close to the front entrance. I’m assuming…well, I guess what I’m saying is if you need any help to get the food ready from another location, I can lend a hand. I’m free to work both events, too. Well, just let me know.”

  I smiled softly at the offer. I was damned lucky to have an employee like Jane. She’d demonstrated her readiness to step in at a moment’s notice more than a few times before, and in this high turnover food service world, that quality was rare.

  “I appreciate the offer. Give me a couple of hours, and I’ll get back to you.”

  “Sounds good. I’ll get right on those calls.”

  “Excellent. Thanks again for your help.”

  “Talk later, Harper.”

  As I hung up and walked toward Dane’s bathroom to take a shower, I tried to get my mind around the next steps to keeping my business afloat while staying hidden from the bad guys. I just needed to find another place to cook, get all the ingredients I needed for both of tomorrow’s events’ food and a bulletproof vest.

  No problem.

  Fourteen

  DANE

  “They were staking out her kitchen all this time,” I said to Leo. He was anxious, ready to pounce, pacing around my office like a caged tiger.

  “But we’d been there for hours. Why didn’t they get it over with the second we walked in?”

  “To catch us off guard,” I argued. Shrugged. “Maybe to avoid more witnesses than necessary.”

  “Or simply to be a hundred percent sure they were shooting at the right target.” Leo stopped at the floor to ceiling window to the right of my office desk and stared outside. “They probably had their people follow us here.”

  Probably.

  “Doesn’t matter,” I told him, my eyes fixed on my phone screen as I scrolled through my contact list. “We’re safe within these walls.”

  “True, but sooner or later we’ll need to leave.”

  “Let’s cross that bridge then.”

  “I’m just saying I don’t think we’ve got enough men on our team to fight off O’Sullivan’s entire fucking army.”

  I glanced up at him. “I’m not looking to start a fight. I want to end it.”

  He sat on a guest chair, long legs sprawled out in front of him and raked a hand through his hair, seeming to relive those tense moments in Harper’s kitchen. “That whole showdown’s on me,” he ground out through a tight, clenched jaw. “It should never have happened. I should’ve had my men cover every angle of that place. If anything would’ve happened to Harper—”

  “It didn’t. Get over all that guilt. None of this is on you.”

  “I was distracted. My head wasn’t in the game. Fuck. I didn’t
have to go that far, licking honey off her clit…”

  I was itching to tell him that if this were my last day on this planet, I couldn’t think of a better way to spend it. But that would only get him blaming himself more, so I pushed down the urge and changed the subject.

  “I’m phoning the fucker.”

  “Who? O’Sullivan? Now?”

  “Damn straight.”

  “Fuck, no. We can’t. We need some leverage.”

  “Like what?”

  “Dirt.”

  I placed both elbows on the hard surface and leaned forward. “How about you hum a few more bars so I get the drift?”

  “You need me to draw you a flow chart?” He sighed. “I mean dirt. Shit about O’Sullivan that we can hold over his head. There’s no other way she’s getting out of this alive.”

  “And add both our names to the equation. They didn’t come there just for her.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah. I figured that.”

  I got out of my chair. Our names were on a fucking O’Sullivan hit list. Fuck. I needed a drink. Crossing the room to the stocked bar, I poured us both a triple serving of single malt and passed him a glass.

  “What kind of dirt is bad enough to get him to back down?” I asked.

  “Honestly? That fucking body in the freezer, for starters. If I’d known the situation could turn this fast, I would’ve taken a fucking picture, figured out who O’Sullivan killed, and hang that shit around his fucking neck.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I disagreed.

  He sat up, leaned forward so his elbows rested on his thighs. “Trust me, it’s the only language those fuckers speak. We’d need to put a few copies of that photo on lockdown for safekeeping, not trade it. The only way he’ll back down is if he believes that killing us will bring more trouble to his door.”

  “We don’t have a pic, though.”

  “That’s why we need to find more dirt. Questionable financials, unusual real estate deals, anything that’ll put him in the hot seat if the wrong people find out.”