PUTTING HER ARM in a plastic bag was the easy part. She’d never realized just how much she needed both hands in the shower until she was without one of them. Even putting the cap over her hair, so she didn’t have to wash it, was difficult.
It would be her life for a while, she’d get used to it.
Clothes were more difficult. Pants would be no problem, but nothing work suitable fitted over her splint. So she went with a dress, maybe a little formal, but she would rather be more business than pleasure.
She tried with the concealer, but it was impossible to hide the swelling still in her face. In the mirror, she didn’t look like her. Was that her injuries or something else?
Whatever it was, she had to get back to her life and left her bedroom ready to return to work.
She didn’t expect there to be people in her living room or for one of them to be her former protector.
“Daly?” she said.
He turned to smile at her. “Miss me?”
“What the hell?” she asked, glancing at Strat next to him before hurrying over to hug the other bodyguard.
At least, she intended to hug him until she raised her good arm too high and aggravated her injuries.
“Don’t worry,” Daly said, offering a gentle hug. “I know I’m out of shape.” He didn’t look bad at all, considering. “I’ve got guys downstairs for the tough stuff. Boss just thought you’d prefer a familiar face.”
“Strat is familiar,” she said, looking at him. “What’s going on? Why the hell are you here?”
“I’m here because I knew you’d never do as told and rest,” Strat said. “Didn’t expect McDade to answer the door when I knocked.”
“McDade to… Connel?” Her focus swung back to Daly. “Why was Connel in my apartment again?”
“Again?” he asked. “Boss spent the night.”
“Boss spent the night,” she murmured. Shock hit her hard. “He stayed over?”
Daly snickered. “Guess it wasn’t a night to remember.”
He’d walked out of the bedroom. She hadn’t actually seen him walk out the front door. Had Connel McDade spent the night on her couch? No. Why would he…? Because he wanted his people to think he was a stud? No, he didn’t care what people thought. If he wanted to be a stud, his efforts in the playroom when there was an audience would prove his prowess.
Thank God Lachlan hadn’t come over before Strat. Her brother had left a voicemail when she was in the shower, but she’d already texted him to say she was alive and well.
“I’m going to work,” she said to neither of them specifically. “I want to check my email, see if any of my efforts bore fruit.”
“You can’t check your work email here?” Strat asked.
She smiled. “I can. I just don’t want to.”
On the night of the attack, her intention was to spend the night at Stag. She had cash in her purse, but not her wallet or cards. Which was great, given her purse was long gone. Lachlan got her a new key for her apartment. Everything was as it should be. Wasn’t it?
“Need a ride?” Strat asked.
“We have a car,” Daly said.
“So does Strat,” she said, heading for the door. “I’ll get in the car with him.”
She could get a cab, but Strat was her friend. She wasn’t trying to send him a message.
As soon as they were in the car, he asked, “What happened?”
“Oh, God, you know,” she said, putting on her seatbelt as he got them going. “I’m so sick of that question.”
“McDade came over?”
“Yes,” she said. “In the middle of the damn night.”
Though, in fairness, she didn’t know exactly what time it had been.
“Seemed like you didn’t know he was there this morning.”
“I thought he went home,” she said. “I told him to go home.”
“You told him to leave?”
“Yes.”
“And he didn’t force the issue?”
Shifting in her seat, she angled toward him. “Why are people always so surprised he’s not violent with me? No, he didn’t force the issue. He could’ve, but no. I told him to go, and I thought he did.”
“But he stayed.”
“Apparently.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
“Not really,” she said, flipping down the visor to check her eye in the mirror. “But what am I going to do about it? It’s done.”
“Daly and his people are following us.”
Flipping around, she looked over the shoulder of the chair. Yep, the Bentley was tailgating.
“Shit.”
“There’s a whole van full of guys behind it,” he said. “Ire’s serious about protecting you.”
“Protecting me from what, exactly? Evander followed me around for years. Never once did anyone gunning for the Manzanis come for me.”
“You blame him?” Strat asked. “The attack was Ire’s fault?”
“No,” she said. “It wasn’t his fault! It was…” That was an interesting point. “Who was it? If they were Manzanis…”
“Vex was pissed about you and Ire.”
“If Evander wanted to hurt me, he’d do it himself,” she said. “And no one mentioned my physical relationship with Conn. They wanted information. Business information.” Her attention stopped on his profile. “What’s the Harvest deal?”
“Beats me,” he said, glancing at her. “I thought you knew.”
“No. I’d never heard of it until they mentioned it.”
“Except they thought you knew enough to screw it up.”
“I think they wanted it screwed up,” she said. “I did have information.”
“Did you tell them?”
“No,” she said. “What good would that have done? Then I’d just have two families after me.”
“That’s why you didn’t tell them?” he asked, his gaze lingering an extra second. “That was your first thought?”
“Honestly? It happened so fast, I don’t know why I didn’t tell them. They were more interested in beating the crap out of me than waiting for an answer. The second guy was…” Saliva rushed her tongue; she swallowed. “If they had the Manzani mark, they were loyal to the Manzanis.”
“Could ask Vex,” he said. “Find out what he knows.”
“Go to him voluntarily?” She shuddered. “Is that a game I want to play?”
“McDade spends the night, then the next day you seek out Vex… He might be looking for you.”
“Evander?”
“If the attack wasn’t on his order, he can’t be happy someone acted without his consent. He thinks of you as his girl.”
“One of them,” she said. “When it suits him.”
Her inquisitive mind wanted to know more, but was it worth it? If Evander didn’t give her answers, Connel was her only other potential source. Unless she asked Daly. He had been laid up for a while, as far as she knew. He might not know about the Harvest deal and could get in trouble for mentioning it.
“If Manzanis hurt you and you go to them… It might not end well.”
And she was definitely not in fighting form. “Maybe I should focus on one mystery at a time.”
“Probably a good idea. Want to stop somewhere for breakfast?”
“No, please,” she said, her stomach roiling. “I can’t even think about food.”
“You’ve lost weight,” he said. “Wasn’t much of you to begin with. You should be eating.”
“I have a brother to lecture me about that. He’s got you covered.”
They shared a smile. Strat wanted to look out for her, she got that, appreciated it. Better him than Lachlan. Though, really, she didn’t want anyone putting their life on hold for her.
When they got to The Chronicler building, Strat said he’d be around if she needed a ride later. She didn’t even talk to Daly, though the Bentley stopped behind them. Maybe he’d be there all day… or maybe he’d get bored and leave. Wishful thinking.
Another huge bouquet awaited her at The Chronicler reception.
Lucy leaped to her feet. “Oh, Sersha! Hi! Oh, God…” She came around to hug her, too tight, she braced against the pain. “You look so good.”
“Okay, that’s a lie,” she said with a smile. “But thank you.” She nodded at the flowers. “Addressed to me?”
Lucy nodded and went back to her post. “They’re so pretty.”
“Keep them,” Sersha said. “Keep all of them. Or give them away to good causes.”
“I don’t get it,” Lucy said, her head dropping to the side. “He really loves you.”
“He doesn’t know me. Any messages?”
“A bunch!” Lucy said, grabbing a stack of notes from her desk to hand them over. “How can someone who doesn’t know you love you so much?”
“Exactly my point,” she said, looking through the stack.
One man showed his love with flowers, the other used mangled corpses. Did either of them really know her? That wasn’t fair, Connel never claimed to love her. His murder spree was about the family name, not winning her heart.
She turned to head for Steeple’s office but didn’t get a step before her head spun. Grabbing for the reception desk, she squeezed her eyes closed, searching for stability.
“Sersha!” Lucy exclaimed.
Someone held her arm and helped her to the floor to sit. Sitting was better.
“Thank you,” she said. “I just… moved too fast, I think.”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
A male voice. A familiar one.
She opened her eyes to confirm the ID. “Daly.”
“Didn’t think I’d go far, did you? Want to get out of here?”
“No!” she asserted, trying to get back to her feet. God only knew where the notes had gone. “I’m going to my boss’s office.”
“Okay,” he said.
Suddenly, someone scooped her up off the floor. “What the hell are you doing?”
Daly again. Goddamnit. Was he even allowed to carry people? How injured had he been?
“Boss says to do whatever you need.”
“Well, you tell him I needed to have screaming, wild sex right in the middle of the bullpen and I forced you to oblige.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I wanna keep my life. But I can call him if you—”
“Don’t even think about it.”
Without knocking, he opened Steeple’s door. Her boss spun in his chair, phone to his ear, and frowned the moment he noticed them.
“I’ll call you back,” he said and hung up to leap to his feet. “Ser, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” she said as Daly settled her down in the seat opposite Steeple at the desk.
Daly offered a two-fingered salute and went out, closing the door, though he stayed right there to block it from the outside.
“This guy again?” Steeple said, wary as he descended to sit.
“Don’t,” she said on an exhale. “It’s not me, it’s Conn—I’ll talk to him, tell him to call his people off.”
Though without her phone, calling to converse might be difficult.
“Will he?” Steeple asked. “Do you want him to? No offense, but I don’t feel worse knowing they’re watching your ass… Unless it was McDade’s people who jumped you.”
“It wasn’t.”
“She says with authority without telling anyone who was responsible.”
“Lachlan call?”
“A couple of times,” he said. “I don’t blame him for being worried.”
“I’ve been lying in the hospital for four days and chose not to crash your meeting this morning so my return wouldn’t be a big deal. But I’m here. I want to get back to work.”
“What does McDade think about that?”
“Who the hell cares what he thinks?” she asked. Rage didn’t help her injuries, but it was automatic. “Don’t dare tell me he called—”
“If Ire McDade called this building, I’d give him the damn keys,” he said, touching his collar. “You know he’s killed people, right?”
Cautious, she didn’t want to be paranoid. “Who told you that?”
“No one told me. It’s known. People know that. Guy gets mad in a snap. You must’ve seen it.”
“He doesn’t…” She took a second. “He cares. About the family. About his people. He’s protective of them.”
“Hence the guy on the other side of the door.”
“Daly is one of his people. Conn cares about him too.”
“And you? Does Ire care about you?”
Angling her head, her boss’s curiosity didn’t escape her notice. “I was attacked in McDade territory.”
“So it’s a personal insult? He doesn’t care who you are, just that someone stepped on his toes?”
So many people wanted her to talk about things she couldn’t make any sense of herself.
“Can I hang out here today or not?”
“Sure,” Steeple said, pushing back in his seat. “Just don’t do too much. Having your brother on my ass is one thing, put against Ire McDade…”
“Okay,” she said, standing up. “Thank you.”
Given she’d about passed out at reception, doing too much would be impossible, even with all the will in the world. Still, for as long as she was able, she wanted her mind busy and not obsessing about other things, other… people.