Remi waited until the occupants of the house were occupied in a spirited argument about the best way to prepare and enjoy eggs before slipping out the front door. It was April, and while yesterday had impressed with a balmy forty-nine degrees, it was spitting a little freezing rain that morning.
Brick hadn’t come home last night. She’d spent the night alone in his big bed after staying up late talking to Camille. They’d glossed over what was happening today and pretended to ignore the next steps that needed to be discussed.
Instead, they’d painted their toenails and talked about movies, men, and art.
But in the light of day, Remi couldn’t ignore the tension that was building in her chest. She knew as well as anyone that Warren would see a gauntlet when Camille’s attorney filed for divorce and asked for a protection order. Brick had already antagonized him with the photos of the two of them together. It would only drive Warren’s need to save face by any means possible. And that meant danger to everyone she cared about.
The only upside was that with the reports made public, with an active police investigation, the whole world would be watching. And when he came after Camille, they’d be ready.
It wasn’t good enough, she thought, pulling up her hood and hurrying toward downtown.
There were a few fudgies out today, braving the weather, buying their souvenirs, and downing hot chocolate on the run.
But overall, it was quiet. Strangers on the street made her look twice, each man looking more and more like Warren as the cold rain blurred her vision. She needed to talk to Brick. Needed to know what came next and how she could help.
Hell, she needed to see him. To touch him. To reassure herself that he was real and solid and there for her.
“William Eugene Callan the Third.”
Remi hid her smile when Brick’s size fourteen boots unceremoniously hit the station floor a split second after what looked like the dredges of cold coffee.
He’d been kicked back in his chair, feet on his desk. It would have been the picture of relaxed if it hadn’t been for the fact that the man had the heels of his hands jammed into both eyes.
Those blue eyes were more red this morning. His hair stood up in funny tufts as if his hands had spent the night wrestling with it. His uniform shirt was wrinkled.
“Remi,” he rasped.
She loved him so fiercely in that moment it took her breath away. “You forgot something last night.”
“I did?” he looked dazed, exhausted. She wanted to wrap her arms around him and hang on tight.
“You forgot to come home.”
He reached for her, and she walked into his strong arms and buried her face against his chest. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, and for a moment, the whole world felt right again.
“Remington, when this is over, I’m going to have a sizable question to ask you,” he rumbled.
Her heart tapped out an emergency SOS.
She pulled back to look up at his handsome face. “What kind of question?”
He rubbed his thumb over the pads of her palms. “A big one.”
Her heart skittered and then restarted. Visions of rings and Brick down on one knee danced in her head. For some reason, she didn’t feel terrified. “You could always ask it now,” she suggested innocently. “Distract us from the mess we’ve got going on here.”
“You make it damn hard to say no to,” he said, rising to his full height before dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
“I like that about me,” she whispered.
“So do I, baby. But the answer’s still no. When this is over. When you and Camille are safe.”
She looked up at him. Into those fierce blue eyes. The set of his jaw.
“Thank you,” she said.
“For what?”
“For keeping not just me but also my friend safe. For opening your home to my sister and her kids. For not biting your dad’s head off when he delivered my friend to me. For being happy for your brother and your ex-wife. Brick Callan, you sure know how to make a girl feel safe and special.”
He was a protector by nature. A big, burly, broody man whose only goal was to keep his loved ones safe and happy. And Remi was going to spend the rest of her life loving the ever-loving hell out of him.
“This is Chief Ford,” Darlene said, her cop voice carrying through the open office door. She waved at both of them, summoning them. Brick dragged Remi along behind him, positioning himself in the door with her at his back.
Remi peeked around the massive man mountain, wondering what threat lay within that had his hackles raised.
“I see,” Darlene said, her voice clipped. Remi recognized that tone. It was the I’m very disappointed and very, very angry voice. Someone somewhere was ass-deep in trouble.
“And how in the hell did that happen?” her mother asked, tapping out a staccato beat with a pen against her desk.
Brick swore under his breath.
She slammed the receiver back into its cradle and, in a moment of uncharacteristic rage, hurled her stapler at the wall of filing cabinets in front of her. “Son of a bitch!”
“What happened?” Remi demanded to Brick’s back.
“How did it go down?” he asked.
“The PD had intel that he was in his office this morning. The uniforms showed up and found his office cleared out. His computer gone. Half his files shredded. He was nowhere to be found.”
“Someone tipped him off.” Brick’s tone was colder than the sleet coating the station windows.
“Looks that way. I warned them. I told them to keep it under their fucking vests. But he still made them look like kids playing Nancy Drew,” Darlene said, standing up to pace.
“What happens next?” Remi asked, pressing her face between Brick’s hulking bicep and the door frame.
“Next, those bozos try to save face and search the greater Chicago area for him. They’re checking on his plane right now. Knocking on the doors of some of his associates.”
“They’re not going to find him,” Remi said, feeling an icy dread settle in her chest.
Her mother’s desk phone rang again. “What?” she snapped as a greeting. “Mexico? Can’t you turn it around?”
Remi slunk away from her mother’s office and wandered back to Brick’s desk.
She felt his calming presence behind her a moment later. “This isn’t something for you to be concerned about, Remi.”
“I know,” she said.
“I’ll protect you. I won’t let that son of a bitch anywhere near you or Camille. Or anyone else on this island.”
“I know,” she said again.
He was silent for a long beat, and she felt the weight of his gaze on her. “However,” he began.
She closed her eyes.
“This means you can’t go anywhere alone. Neither can Camille. You two need to stay in the house until we find him.”
“She said Mexico,” she said, nodding in her mother’s direction.
“That was his family’s plane. The flight plan they filed this morning. The Chicago PD isn’t too concerned about tracking down someone for domestic assault in Cancun.”
“You don’t think he’s on that plane?” she guessed.
He shook his head. “Remi, it’s already hit the news. The divorce, the abuse allegations, and now a botched arrest. He’s got nothing left to lose.”
She closed her eyes again and let out a shaky breath. The one thing, the tiny veneer of protection Camille had against the monster, had been stripped away. Warren Vorhees no longer had a face worth saving. He was already ruined. And there was only one thing worth living for now.
Revenge.
“He’s coming here,” she said.
“He won’t get near you as long as you do what I say.”
She felt utterly helpless and disgusted by it. Brick and her mother could strap on guns and march off to face danger. But she had to lock herself away inside and wait for someone else to finish the fight. It felt wrong. Because this was as much her fight as anyone else’s.
If Warren was out for blood, so was she. She wanted to be the one to turn the key in the lock. To watch the embers of his power snuff out and die. She wanted him to be revealed for exactly what he was. An inhuman monster with nothing to live for.
“Remington,” Brick said, the warning clear in his growl.
“What?” she asked, stubbornly.
“I know that look. This isn’t some illegal party on Round Island that you’re missing out on. This is life or death. This is a battle I’m trained to fight. One that I’m not going to lose. But you have to do your part.”
“Yeah. My part is to play the damsel in distress in my stupid ivory tower because once again, I’m incapable of taking care of myself.” She crossed her arms over her chest.
“This isn’t me going off to fight your war. We’re partners in this. And we’ve got to play to our strengths. Which means I go break the bad guy’s face while you keep Camille in one piece. She needs you right now. She’s minutes from falling to pieces. That’s why she came to you. Because you’re the strong one. So let me fight the enemy while you protect your friend.”
She glared at him, then rolled her eyes. “Damn it. You’re really good at that.”
He pulled her into his chest, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the busy bullpen around them. “Yeah? Just wait till I ask my big question.”
“Brick, I swear to God, if you turn it into something like ‘Remington Honeysuckle Ford, will you get tacos with me tonight?’ I will be ordering an extra large body bag and digging a real big hole in the Grand Hotel’s rose garden.”
He ran a hand gently over her face. A sweet, soft, soothing touch. “Are you telling me you’d turn me down for tacos?”
She felt a smile tugging at her lips. “Of course not. I’m not an idiot. I’d eat the tacos and then bury your body.”
“You’re a hell of a woman, Remi.”
“Yeah. Yeah. And you’re my big brawny man mountain who had better make Warren Vorhees regret ever laying a hand on a woman.”
“I know you’re being sarcastic. But I still like the sound of it.”
Her flirtatious retort was cut off by the station door flying open. In strolled two scowling suits. The first, a woman, long and lean in a boxy polyester suit the color of horse shit. The second was a baby-faced man who looked like he’d practiced his scowl in the mirror and wouldn’t be able to grow facial hair if he tried.
“Who are they?” Remi asked.
“Feds,” Brick growled.
According to every cop TV show she had ever watched, a territorial pissing match was about to occur. One that had probably never happened in the history of Mackinac Island.
“Oh, boy,” she said.
Brick gripped her arm and steered her toward the side door. “You’re going home.”
“But I want to watch my mom yell at these guys.” Remi pouted.
“I’ll re-enact it for you later,” he promised.
She heaved a sigh. “Fine. But I want you to do the facial expressions and the accents,” she insisted.
“God, I love you.” Heedless of the audience, he grabbed her by the chin and kissed the hell out of her.
A few of the other officers who weren’t staring down the suits whistled their approval.
“Don’t forget to come home this time,” she said when he’d pulled away and her head stopped spinning.
“I can’t go another night without you.”
She started for the door, but Brick stopped her. “Turk? You mind walking Remi home?”
“I can get myself home,” she scoffed.
Carlos jumped up from his desk. “Sure thing,” he said.
“What did we just talk about not even five minutes ago?” Brick demanded gruffly.
“I don’t really recall. I was too busy thinking about you naked.”
“You’re evil.”
“Have fun with that hard-on, big guy,” she said, tapping him in the balls and breezing out the door with Carlos Turk on her heels.
