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Benji paced from wall to wall in the office. Anxiety prickled his skin and churned his stomach. Belle was pregnant? How? He’d used a fucking condom. Was the baby even his? She probably bed-hopped all the time. That didn’t sit well with him. She was a little wild, but no way would she trap a man who wasn’t the dad. Unless she wanted his money or business. Goddamn it. What a nightmare.
His assistant manager, Ollie, cracked open the door. “Hey, Ben. You got a phone call. Some woman is demanding to speak with you. I put her on hold.”
“The woman from earlier?” Benji stared at the roses he’d stuffed back into the box. Please, God. Let the caller be Belle.
“The crazy, crying lady who decorated your hair and office with flowers? Nah, I don’t think so.” Ollie smirked. His mop of dark hair dangled over his eyes.
Benji groaned. He’d never live this down.
Ollie had pushed his way into the office after Belle left, and he doubled over in laughter at the petals stuck in Benji’s hair.
“Thanks, man. I got it.” Benji grabbed the phone from his desk and pressed a button as Ollie left. “Ben’s Auto Repair, Benji speaking. How may I help you?”
“About damn time. I need you, Benji. Please, help me. I’m in trouble. Like, big trouble.” The words rushed out in a breathless stream.
He froze. His sick stomach dropped to his feet. Fucking hell. It was his sister. “How did you get this number, Meghan?” He skirted the desk and collapsed in his chair.
“Online, from your website. Come pick me up.”
He gripped the phone so tight his knuckles ached. “The last time I saw you, you caused a scene at our father’s funeral. I told you I never wanted to see or hear from you again.”
Meghan huffed. “It’s been four years. You can’t still be mad about that. I was grieving, like you.”
“You were high. Why are you calling me?”
“I need a ride. I’m scared, okay? I need out of here.”
He squeezed the bridge between his eyes. “Why should I care?”
“You’re my brother, Benjamin. My big brother. That’s why.”
“That’s supposed to mean something? I’ve tried to help you for years, and you lashed out each time. Why should I bother now?”
“I’ve been in rehab. I’m trying to straighten out my life, but I can’t do that if I stay with my boyfriend. He’s a dealer. Please, help me make a fresh start. Let me stay with you for a few weeks. Dad would want it.”
Benji grumbled a curse.
To appease his father on his deathbed, he’d promised him he would help Meghan if she ever hit rock bottom and came to her senses.
Had she finally done so? Did he dare believe it? Meghan probably did need a place to stay, though, if she intended to leave her drug-dealing boyfriend.
“All right, fine. Where are you?” He rubbed his nape. Sweat slicked his palm and trickled down his back, prickling his skin.
“Oh, thank you, Ben. Thank you so much. I’m in Fort Collins, at a shopping center.”
“That’s very informative. Do you expect me to check every store in the city?”
“Of course not. Gimme a sec.” Noise thudded on her side of the line as though she’d set down the phone. Her high-pitched voice returned. “Starlit Plaza. I’m in a little Internet café. A clerk is letting me use the shop phone. I’ll meet you outside at the white gazebo in the food court.”
He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. I’m leaving now.”
“Thank you again. I swear, Benji, you won’t regret this.”
“We’ll see.” He smashed a button and dropped the receiver back on the base. His hand trembled. First Belle, now Meghan. The day had taken a detour straight down the crapper. He snatched his smartphone from his jeans pocket, typed Starlit Plaza in the browser, and mapped the shortest route. Invoices, inventory lists, and account statements cluttered his desk. When would he find time to go over them?
He shut down the computer and rushed out of the office while tugging on his coat. “Hey, Ollie. Will you close up for me?”
“Yeah, sure. Everything all right?” The man leaned against the counter as he scribbled in a spiral ring notebook.
“I think so. Hope so, anyway.” Benji clapped his employee on the back and strode from the lobby. The icy breeze stung his skin and dried the sweat on his neck.
The muffled grind of machinery reverberated from the closed garage doors like music to his ears with the stench of exhaust and motor oil wrapping him up in a familiar cocoon. What would he do without this place? A dozen cars crowded the lot, and he stepped back as a customer pulled from a spot and left the lot.
Benji climbed into his truck, let it warm up, and drove through LoDo—the lower downtown district. After a few quick turns, he reached the congested interstate and cursed. Traffic crept along, and he honked his horn like the other impatient drivers around him.
“I should’ve taken the back roads.” He slouched in the seat and turned on the radio. The wail of throaty voices and ripping guitars of alternative rock jackrabbited his heart. He drummed his hands on the steering wheel. Why was he doing this? Meghan was a liar, a user. Nothing good would come of letting her back into his life. And what could he do about Belle?
Traffic picked up after he breached the city limits. He hit the gas and passed a few vehicles. Countless trees, vast spreads of farmland and ranch country, and outcroppings of little towns blurred past. He spent so much time in the city he’d forgotten the rough-and-tumble countryside that made Colorado so wild and beautiful. A shrill noise echoed through the music, so he switched off the radio. His beeping phone signaled the turnoff as buildings rose in place of trees along the road. He took the next exit and turned into a parking area.
A massive multistory shopping complex lorded over the masses. Dozens of shoppers rushed toward high-dollar outlets while others strode toward their vehicles with large bags weighing down their arms, temporarily satisfying their souls.
Benji drove slowly, passing several clothing stores. Where were the restaurants?
A few women bolted in front of the truck.
His heart slammed in his rib cage. He smashed the brakes, lunging forward. The seat belt snapped him back, slicing pain across his chest. Ow, fuck.
The strangers hurried onto the sidewalk, and one of them flipped him the middle finger.
“Goddamn fools. Fancy-ass shoes and purses aren’t worth your lives.” He muttered the words, shaking his head, and rubbed his chest. As he inched down the main strip, he scanned the structures and finally pulled alongside the food court.
He grimaced at the bare trees and leafy green shrubs in sparsely mulched flowerbeds. A cobblestone walkway twisting through the court connected several restaurants and cafés he wouldn’t stop dead in. Scratch that. Two of the chain eateries he’d gone to back home in Denver. A white gazebo with a dozen metal tables and benches surrounding it dominated the middle of the spacious area. But where was his sister?
“I don’t believe this.” He turned between two long rows of vehicles and parked several yards from the food court. Cold prickled his skin as he left the warm truck. The wind barreled into him. He clamped his jaw and tromped across the lot to find her.
A familiar high-pitched voice rent the air. “Let me go!”
Benji dashed between vehicles for the adjacent row and skidded to a stop, almost running into the side of a passing car. His pulse skyrocketed. Hell, he was just like those women. After the sedan passed, he darted past more vehicles toward another row.
“Stop!” Meghan flailed, hitting the man who dragged her across the asphalt. Her wild red hair flew as the ruff of her fur-lined parka partially hid her face. Her boots clacked as she stumbled.
A second man stomped behind them and carried two beige travel bags.
Benji ran after them. “Hey! Let her go.”
The brawny men abruptly stopped and flipped around to face him.
Meghan’s eyes widened. She pushed free from her stunned captor and ran toward him.
Benji groaned as she leapt into his arms and knocked him backward. Ugh. The stench of perfume and cigarettes engulfed him.
She hugged him tight. “What took so long?”
“Traffic. Who are those guys?” He set her back as the meatheads in their fancy wool coats advanced.
“Doesn’t matter. Let’s go.” She pulled his coat sleeve, trying to drag him back.
He shook off her hold and glared at the strangers. “What do you want?”
“The bitch. She belongs to our boss. Walk away, man, and we’ll forget you intervened.” The tall, muscled blond flicked his gaze to Meghan. “Get your ass over here unless you want this guy breathing through a tube in a hospital.”
Wonderful. Threats. What the hell had he expected? Meghan always gravitated toward violent men, except for when she’d married Alan. If only that relationship had lasted.
Meghan gripped Benji’s hand. “No, Shaw. I’m leaving. Tell Iversen I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. I appreciate all he’s done for me, but I need to move on with my life. I need to stay clean.”
Shaw tsked. “You’re making a mistake, honey.”
“Iversen’s the one who sent you to rehab.” The other man cocked his head. “He wants you cleaned up, but now you’re abandoning him, after all he’s given you, like these clothes.” He snorted and dropped the bags. “Think about what you’re doing, Meg. You seriously want to leave him, and for who? You screwing this guy?”
Benji choked. “Hell, no. I’m her—”
“Friend. He’s my friend.” Meghan squeezed his hand harder as though in warning. She tilted her chin at the brunet stranger. “Don’t call me Meg. I hate that stupid nickname, Mayer.”
Shaw rolled his eyes.
Mayer swiped his hand over his low ponytail, snagging a few strands. His dark eyes narrowed. “Fine. Have it your way.” He lunged at Benji like a linebacker.
Oh, shit. Benji pushed Meghan aside as Mayer barreled into him. Air whooshed from his lungs as they hit the ground and skidded on the asphalt. Thank God for his thick coat, but the pain still jolted up his spine. Fuck. He didn’t sign on for this. The goon weighed like a pallet of bricks. Benji lifted his arm, blocking Mayer’s blow, but the next strike hit the mark. Goddamn it! Fire lanced through his jaw. Dots danced in his vision.
“Stop it, Mayer. Leave him alone!”
Meghan’s words rang in Benji’s ears. He didn’t have time for this. Shaw would grab her and run if he didn’t stop him. He threw up his arms like an X, blocking Mayer’s next punch, and slammed his arm with all his strength against his attacker’s left side.
Mayer groaned. His face flushed crimson.
What organ was in that area—the spleen? Benji bucked his hips, knocked the man off, and rolled to his knees. His lungs pounded for air as he scraped his hands on the rough ground and scrambled up. The fiery heat coursing through him pushed back the chill.
“You’re gonna pay for that, asshole.” Shaw stomped toward Benji like a rhino.
“Oh my God. A fight!” a stranger shrieked from yards away. “Call 911!”
Benji scowled at the bystander.
Three middle-aged women gaped and clutched their shopping bags to their chests.
“We gotta go. Now.” Meghan grabbed her travel bags.
Shaw heaved Mayer to his feet. They ran off.
Benji gripped Meghan’s arm and pulled her across the lot. Where the fuck was his truck? Air sliced hard through his lungs. Fading sunlight reflected off several windshields, nearly blinding him, but he trudged on. His truck’s chrome grille gleamed in the light. After they climbed inside the still-warm cab, he cranked the engine and peeled out of the lot.
Dear God. Why was this happening? Did he wake up in an alternate reality that morning? Were those men following him? Several sedans, vans, and trucks spanned the highway behind him, so he sped up and wove around a few cars before staring back out the rear-view mirror.
None of the vehicles changed lanes to chase after him.
He sagged, relieving the strain in his lower back. His temples throbbed, and his head ached as though trapped in a vise. He rubbed his stiff neck and jaw, and a twinge of pain shot from behind his eyes. Damn it. He couldn’t wait to get home and raid his fridge for a nice cold beer—or three. He stared back in the mirror. Scratches marred his forehead, and a bruise darkened his cheek. How would he explain the marks to the guys at work?
Meghan leaned her head back. The creases around her eyes and mouth aged her past her thirty-three years. She breathed in through her nose, held the air, and expelled it in a long, slow stream through her mouth. Then she did it again.
“Why are you breathing like that?”
“I’m stressed.” She clutched a travel bag on her lap and curled her fingers around the long strap. She’d stuffed her purse and the other bag at her feet. “My therapist says I should breathe deeply to calm down.”
“You really went to a rehabilitation center?”
“Of course. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.”
“Well, I never know with you, Meghan. You’ve lied to me so many times.”
She huffed. “I’ve made mistakes. I need to own up to them and make amends. It’s hard, though. I don’t know where to begin.”
He’d longed to hear her say those words, but he didn’t trust her. How could he? She’d ripped out his heart more than once. “Those guys back there, Shaw and Mayer? Who are they?”
She grimaced. “They work for my boyfriend.”
“Mayer called him Iversen, right?” He sighed as she nodded. “Is that his last name?”
“No, it’s an alias. He doesn’t like anyone knowing his real name unless he trusts them. I know it, but I shouldn’t tell you. It’s for your own safety, Ben.”
Of course it was. “What kind of dealer is he?” He gritted his teeth until the pulling tendon in his neck ached. Ow! He moaned and stretched his mouth in a wide yawn. “Shaw and Mayer were dressed like high-priced bodyguards, so I bet Iversen ranks high in the drug business.” He eyed her expensive parka. “You aren’t the type to date a poor, dirty thug who slings trash on street corners. You always want the best.”
“I’ve changed, Benji.”
“Rehab isn’t cheap. Did Iversen pay for it?”
She nodded again and dropped her gaze.
“Are you gonna tell me what happened?”
“I guess I have to.” She plucked a loose string from the bag. “I got drunk and high during a party and acted like a fool in front of everyone. Iversen sent me to rehab. It was the longest three months of my life, but I’m grateful for it. I’m good now, and I want to stay good. I’ve been out a week, but I’m not ready to be back in the real world.”
“Temptation’s everywhere.”
“Exactly. Iversen wants me to light up, but he expects me to control myself. I can’t. If I take one hit, I’ll cut loose again. He doesn’t understand that.”
“He’s a pusher. He wants you under his thumb. How could you get involved with someone like that?”
Her cheeks reddened beneath a scattering of freckles. She hunkered down in the seat.
Shit. He had to stop browbeating her. “Since Iversen sent his goons after you, do you think he’ll look for you again?”
“I hope not. If he does, he won’t be able to find me.”
Benji snorted. “What makes you so sure?”
“Iversen knows people who could track my phone and any credit card purchase I make, so I left the phone at his condo and won’t use the cards. Luckily, I got some cash on me.” She faced him. “I’m glad we got outta there without Mayer and Shaw finding out who you are. He could hunt me down through you, and I don’t want you in trouble.”
“A little late for that.” He rubbed his jaw.
“I’m sorry. I was hiding in the food court when the guys showed up.” She clasped his knee. “I made plans to go shopping with a friend. After she realized I meant to run away, she kicked me out of the car. I think she called Iversen. How else could those pricks have found me so soon? I’d hoped to get out of town before anyone knew I was gone.”
“Some friend.” He grasped her hand from his leg and moved it to her bag.
“She’s afraid of Iversen. Everyone is. She ratted me out to protect herself.”
“Are you sure he won’t come after you?”
“I doubt it. I’ll lie low at your place for a while until it’s safe to move on. I have friends who might help me, people who don’t know Iversen.”
“I helped you out of a bind, Meghan, but I never said you could stay with me.” He switched lanes and passed a car crawling well below the speed limit. “What about the police? I’m not a big fan of the boys in blue, but they could protect you.”
She recoiled, drawing against the door. “I’m a drug dealer’s addict girlfriend. The cops would lock me up. Please, Benji. Can I bunk with you?”
She pouted her bottom lip as she did when they were kids. Her puppy-dog eyes pleaded, her gaze boring into his skull.
Dad had always caved to her manipulations, but Benji had built up his immunity. Good to know the barrier between his sister and his heart was still intact. Mostly, anyway. He never should’ve picked her up at that damned shopping center.
“You’ve lied to me, Meghan. You crushed Alan’s heart. How can I let you back into my life? Would you do the same for me if I were in your shoes?”
“That’s not fair. You would never be in my shoes. Maybe things would’ve been different if Mom hadn’t died. Dad took you under his wing, not me.”
“Bullshit. You balked at Dad’s every attempt to reach you.”
“I like clothes and makeup, but he shoved car crap down my throat.”
“He backed off after you insulted the way he put food in our bellies for the billionth time. Do you remember anything he taught you, like how to check the oil or change a flat tire?”
“Hello? Girly girl here.” She popped her chest with her hand.
“Aargh.” He scrubbed his palm down his face. He’d rather suffer a root canal without anesthesia than let her stay with him, but she was already in his truck. “You can stay if you follow four simple rules.”
“Four? Talk about excessive.”
A shudder coursed through him. “The first one is obvious—no drugs.” He stared back out the windshield, ticking off each rule with his fingers. “I’ll kick you out if I see anything or if you even look high. Two—do not contact Alan or Danny. I’ll tell them about you when I figure out how to word it.”
No way would this end well. Benji loved Meghan’s ex-husband like he was his real brother. When Alan found out about this, he would rip Benji a new one.
“Three—find a job. I don’t care if you have to flip burgers. My home is not a day spa, and you will contribute as much as possible.” He lifted another finger. “Four—enter a twelve-step program or whatever system Narcotics Anonymous uses. Go to the meetings. I’ll help you find a meet-site and go with you if you need me to.”
“I’ll do my best.”
The tension tightening his shoulders flushed his face warm. She agreed too easily. He flicked a dial on the dashboard and turned off the heater. “Don’t you have anything to say about Alan or Danny?”
“No, I haven’t thought about them in a while.”
“Not smart. You want my help, but you don’t give a damn about your ex-husband or your son. They’re my family.” His gut clenched. “You sure can pick ’em. Iversen is another prick in a long string of abusive boyfriends, yet you dumped the only guy to love and respect you.”
“Things didn’t work out with Alan. Get used to it already.”
“Want me to drop you on the roadside?”
She crossed her arms. “Don’t be an ass, Benji. I wouldn’t have called you, but I had no one else to ask. If Dad were alive, I would’ve called him.”
“That would’ve been a sight—our sixty-some-year-old father going head-to-head with a thug half his age.” He veered off the interstate. “Dad would’ve ended up in the morgue.”
Tears welled in her bloodshot eyes.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter. Damn it. Better not break. No apologies. Large buildings and evergreen trees blurred into a mass of silvery-brown tones as he drove through town. Silence spread between them. What nerve. Her long-overdue apology couldn’t wash away all the shit she’d done to him and his loved ones, but it was a start.
The knot in his stomach doubled as the cityscape bled into houses and yards. Kids rode bikes down the sidewalk, so he eased off the gas pedal and drove below the speed limit. After a few turns, he parked in his driveway and killed the engine. He did it. He brought Meghan home.
God help me. I’m screwed.