Dakota stood in her living room, her gut churning in trepidation at the thought of seeing Hamilton again. Earlier, when she first heard his voice on the phone, she’d been cautiously optimistic that he was still interested. But when he made it clear he was just dropping off the jacket that she’d left at their office, that bit of hope fizzled. A little.
The conversation had been short, but she wasn’t ready to let the intense vibe between them go. She needed him to know she wasn’t her father.
Dakota took another quick glance around the apartment. Besides the moving boxes, stacked three-high in the corner, everything was in place. Her and Tymico’s lease was up at the end of the month and they both felt it was time for the next chapter in their lives. Dakota couldn’t imagine her life without her friend. Which was why moving out of their current apartment and into their own places would be weird. Even so, nothing could break their sisterly bond.
Dakota huffed out a calming breath before stepping into the hallway, locking her apartment door behind her. With any luck, she could talk Hamilton into coming back to her place and hearing her out. She hadn’t gone two feet before her pain-in-the-butt neighbor stepped out of his apartment.
“Well, well, well. Tonight must be my lucky night.”
Dakota rolled her eyes and folded her arms across her chest. “Sonny, I don’t have time for your nonsense. I need to get to the lobby.”
“Why do we have to go through this every time we run into each other? I don’t know why you insist on playing hard to get.”
He reached out to touch her face and she leaned back. He might’ve smelled good, but she didn’t want his hands anywhere on her. As it was, his closeness alone made her uncomfortable. Lately, he’d been coming on stronger, getting a little too touchy-feely. It was like that when she had stupidly agreed to go out with him a few months ago.
“I am hard to get,” she finally said. “Now back off!”
She stepped around him and headed for the lobby, but he grabbed her butt and squeezed.
Dakota whirled around, catching him off guard. She clipped him in the jaw with her elbow and swept her right leg out, tripping him to the floor.
“Don’t you ever put your hands on me again,” she ground between gritted teeth. It had been a long time since a man’s touch made her want to stomp the crap out of him.
Sonny leaped up quickly, and she got into a ready stance. He had no idea that with her training, she could kill him with one perfectly placed jab.
Stunned, Sonny stood with his hand holding his cheek…and then he smiled.
It was as if the fog had been lifted and she was snapped out of a temporary trance. Instead of speaking, Dakota turned and stormed away.
Yet again she had chosen wrong. For a person who was hoping to meet a nice guy and get married sometime in the very near future, she’d been lousy at picking men, especially lately.
“Dakota, wait up. I’m sorry. You’re right. I was way out of line.” Sonny jumped in front of her, slowing her pace, but stayed back a couple of feet, his hands raised. “I shouldn’t have put my hand on you. I had a couple of drinks tonight and I’m not thinking straight. I promise, it’ll never happen again…unless you want something to happen.”
“Sonny, just move.” She glanced around him through the glass door to see if Hamilton had arrived but didn’t see him.
“Okay, one more thing. You owe me. How about you and me go out Friday night?”
“Clearly you have lost your mind. I don’t owe you a damn thing. When I finally agreed to go to dinner with you, your ass took me to some shit-hole house where an orgy was going on.”
He chuckled and licked his lower lip. A sly grin, one that he probably thought was sexy, spread across his mouth. He looked more like a slimy predator than the handsome man who had first started asking her out almost a year ago. Now, Dakota wished she had stuck with turning him down. Her thought back then had been not to date someone who lived within walking distance of her. But he had worn her down with his persistence.
“Come on, baby. I already apologized for that,” he said. “And that was almost three months ago. You can’t still be holding that against me. Besides, I thought it was just going to be a house party. I had planned on us getting our eat on, and then doing a little bumpin’ and grindin’ on the dance floor. Then I tho—”
“Sonny, just stop. You blew it. That was your one shot. Besides, I’m seeing someone,” she lied but thought about Hamilton. It would be perfect if he’d show up at any second. With his unknown help, she could nip this nonsense with Sonny in the bud tonight.
* * *
Hamilton glanced at the address that he had scribbled on a slip of paper. He was having second thoughts about dropping off Dakota’s jacket, but it was the least he could do. The way he left her in the conference room without an explanation had been a punk-ass move. Granted, it was in the best interest of all of them that he’d left when he had, knowing it wouldn’t have taken much for him to haul off and punch Wesley.
Just as Hamilton exited highway 85, his phone rang through the truck speakers and his best friend Lazarus’s name popped up on the radio screen.
He pushed the phone button on his steering wheel. “What’s up, Laz?”
“Not much. I was taking a break and figured I’d check in.”
Hamilton and Lazarus had been college roommates while attending Georgia State and were closer than most brothers. Back then, some even referred to them as Ebony and Ivory. These days, they practically lived in two different worlds. Hamilton had opted for a safer career, while Laz lived for his job as an Atlanta police detective.
Recently, there had been rumors swirling around that he was a dirty cop. Hamilton knew better. Sure, his friend pushed the limits and skated on the edge of the law, but Laz was committed to ridding the city of scum. He was also the best damn detective in Atlanta. Lazarus got the job done, not caring that many of his arrests resulted in internal affairs investigation.
“How’s my godson?” Laz asked of Dominic.
“It’s scary how much that kid reminds me of you,” Hamilton said as they discussed Dominic’s latest antics. Laz only laughed while listening to one story after another.
“Man, I love that kid. He’s a quick study and will make a helluva cop when he grows up.”
“Oh, I didn’t tell you. He wants to be a stuntman now.”
Hamilton gave him a quick recap of Dominic’s trip to the movie set, realizing that Laz had heard about parts of the visit from Dominic.
Discussing the movie set brought up thoughts of Dakota Sherrod or Dakota Bradford. Whatever the hell name she went by. Hamilton had the shittiest luck. Of all the women who could have caught his attention, it had to be Wesley’s daughter. Talk about a buzzkill.
“Well, tell Dom we’re still on for laser tag this weekend.”
“Okay.” Hamilton slowed down across the street from Dakota’s building. He frowned when he spotted her inside the glass doors in what appeared to be a heated discussion with a man.
“He’ll be at my parent’s house. You can pick him up from there.”
“That works for me. I’ll get a home-cooked meal. It’s been awhile.”
Irene Crosby, Hamilton’s mother, lived to cook for her husband and three boys as well as Laz. She treated him like one of her own, and he rarely missed an opportunity to dine at her table.
“So, what’s up with you and your woman?” Hamilton asked.
After a slight hesitation, Laz asked, “What woman?”
“The woman whose name you usually work into every conversation. Is that gorgeous prosecutor still giving you hell?”
Hamilton laughed when Laz released a string of curses. His friend didn’t want to admit it, but he was in love with attorney Journey Ramsey. It didn’t matter that she was a state prosecutor who challenged most of Laz’s cases.
Hamilton parked his truck in the first available spot up the street and grabbed Dakota’s jacket from the passenger seat. Before shutting off his truck, he switched to his cell phone to continue the conversation.
“That woman will forever be a gorgeous thorn in my side. Giving me hell is putting it mildly.”
Hamilton started to tease him but noticed a dark vehicle creeping up the street with its lights out.
“Are you still there?” Laz asked. “What are you doing?”
“Stay on the line, man,” Hamilton said as he eased around to the other side of his vehicle, slipping the handgun he usually carried from his ankle holster. Some things he did out of habit, like checking out his surroundings and noting when something seemed out of order. Then there were other times when an ominous feeling licked at his nerves—that’s when he got into protection mode and armed himself. Right now, his intuition was screaming that something was about to go down.
He glanced at Dakota’s building. He could barely see her behind the guy with the wide shoulders, but the way her arms were flopping around, it was safe to say they were still in a heated discussion.
Hamilton’s heart rate amped up. He had been a cop long enough to know that as slow as the car was moving, whoever the passengers were, they were definitely up to no good.
He remained out of sight and close to his truck until the vehicle crept past him. Then on a whim, he glanced at the license plate.
“Laz, I have a plate for you. Queens, Nora, Tom, 9705.” Hamilton rattled off the license plate number, his police training kicking in. “A dark four-door Chevy with tinted windows just past me with no headli—”
Hamilton flinched when gunshots pierced the quietness of the night.
“Shots fired!” he ground into the phone and jerked back to the other side of his truck as the individuals in the vehicle opened fire on Dakota’s building.
He could barely hear Laz calling his name when screams erupted. A car going in the opposite direction slammed on their brakes. People on the sidewalks scattered. Within seconds, the hit car peeled away.
Hamilton took off in a sprint toward the building. He yelled the address to Laz, knowing he’d heard the gunshots.
“A black and white is on the way,” his friend said into his ear. “And I’ll be there shortly.”
A sense of foreboding crawled through Hamilton’s body, unsure of what he would find when he reached the building. Still holding Dakota’s jacket, he pocketed his cell phone and kept his gun at his side as he slowed. Maybe Wesley’s fear for his daughter’s life wasn’t as far-fetched as she thought.
Another scream came from inside the building once he neared the entrance. Shards of glass from the double doors littered the sidewalk, as well as inside the lobby.
Hamilton eased his gun into the back waistband of his pants, making sure his jacket covered the piece as he entered the building. Foreboding inched through him when he spotted a body. The man Dakota had been arguing with lay lifeless, bullet holes in the back and blood painting part of the floor around him.
Some of the neighbors had ventured into the hallway, one with a phone to his ear sounding as if he was talking to a 911 operator, and another woman screaming for someone to do something. Both were standing in the middle of the staircase, keeping their distance.
Hamilton’s heart kicked against his ribcage as his gaze darted around the space, the pressure in his chest mounting.
Where the hell was Dakota?
He quickly checked the unmoving man for a pulse.
“Is he…is he dead?” the frantic woman asked, not as crazed as she’d been a moment ago. The man on the phone looked as if he was waiting for Hamilton’s response as well.
“Yeah. Everyone stay back. I already called this in, and the cops are on the way,” he said. He still had no idea what had happened to Dakota, but he did see blood smudges that started near the victim’s body and got thinner a few feet away.
He eased away from the body while the man and woman standing on the stairs weren’t paying attention and followed the trail. It stopped at the edge of a narrow hallway that curved around.
Hamilton pulled up short and his body tensed.
Hunkered down in a small area beneath the stairs, Dakota sat, blood covering her arms, hands, and the front of her sweater. Before Hamilton could say anything, her gaze shot up. She jerked back and bumped the wall. Her light honey-brown eyes were wide with alarm, and her face paled.
But then she recognized him.
Dakota opened her mouth to speak, but only a slight whimper came out as her chest heaved up and down rapidly. Her bloody hands and sweater stood out like a beacon of fire sitting on a hill.
He swallowed hard, scanning her body as he eased toward her. The sounds of people coming out of their apartments and sirens in the distance faded to the background. At the moment, she was his only concern.
Stooping down he moved his large body closer into the tight space, careful not to hit his head on the low ceiling. He kneeled next to her and set the jacket he’d been holding onto the floor.
“Where are you hit?” he asked quietly.
“I—I don’t…I—I’m not. Son—Sonny’s blood. So—so much blood.” Her voice cracked.
Dakota lifted her shaking hands toward her face, but Hamilton stopped her by grabbing both wrists. He didn’t want her to get someone’s else’s blood on her face. He also still wasn’t convinced that she wasn’t hurt considering the amount of blood on her clothes.
“I—I need to get to my apartment. They might come back.”
Hamilton doubted they were coming back, at least not today, but he didn’t like the idea of her being in the open. Although hiding in the tight space beneath the stairs did give some cover.
“Let me make sure you weren’t hit. I’m going to lift your sweater a little. Okay?”
She nodded and shivered, her breathing increasing.
“Does anything hurt?”
“My butt. Can you check to see if I have a bruise?”
Hamilton’s left brow arched as he looked down at her. When his hands stilled on her sweater, those long lashes shielding her eyes lifted, and she glanced up at him. Each time he stared into those gorgeous eyes, his pulse kicked up. He could almost hear the blood rushing from his brain to the lower part of his body, but now wasn’t the time for lustful thoughts. Dakota had said the words about her butt with a straight face, but he couldn’t determine if she was serious.
Serious or not, there was no way in hell he was checking out her ass. He’d already had a hard time trying to block thoughts of her out of his mind. Considering she seemed to be sitting just fine, maybe she’d made the comment to get a rise out of him. It worked. He knew people who used humor to take their mind off of serious situations. Either way, he wasn’t going to torture himself any more than he had to.
Still concerned about the blood covering her clothes, he made quick work of checking her for wounds, running his hands gently down her sides, hips, and legs. She winced a little when his hand grazed her left hip, but considering the amount of blood on her, he was shocked he didn’t find any bullet wounds.
“What happened?” Hamilton asked and let her lean against him, noting that the adrenaline she’d been high on was probably subsiding. He had no idea how she’d been able to get to the back of the stairs.
“S—Sonny and I had been arguing and then…shots rang out, like—like machine guns or something. Glass shattering and people screaming was all I heard. Hell, that’s all I’m still hearing.” She shook her head as if trying to shake the sounds free.
“Did Sonny say anything?”
Seconds ticked by and she didn’t speak but shivered again, her hands shaking slightly, and he cradled her against him fearing that she was going into shock.
“He, um…grunted when he got hit and his eyes grew big.” Her voice cracked. “Sonny’s body jerked a few times, and…and he crashed into me and I fell hard on the floor. I—I was pinned under him,” her voice shook and she stared down at her hands before rubbing them on the thighs of her jeans. “I should’ve…I should’ve done something.”
“Baby, there was nothing you could’ve done.” The endearment slipped through before he could stop it. She still had to talk with the cops and he didn’t want her to lose it yet by blaming herself for not doing more. “The shooting took place within ten seconds. You—”
“I freaked when he was on top of me. I just knew I had to get away. I pretended it was a scene. I just kept pushing against him enough to get free, and…and then you came.”
An overwhelming feeling Hamilton couldn’t describe came over him. He was glad he was there. Glad she wasn’t alone. He had seen enough dead bodies to know it could screw with your mind.
Dakota glanced up at him and his breath hitched as tears filled her eyes, but then she quickly looked away.
“I—I need to go. All of this…this blood. I need to get to my apartment,” she mumbled.
Hamilton was thinking the same thing, but not for the same reasons as her. He was pretty sure those guys weren’t coming back, but if she’d been the target, the gunmen would find a way to determine if she was dead. And if she hadn’t been the target, she was still a witness.
“Where’s your apartment?” It wasn’t a good idea to move her from the scene, but Hamilton planned to treat her like he’d treat one of his charges that he was guarding. His number-one priority in those situations was to make sure his client was safe.
“Down the hall.” Dakota lifted a trembling finger and pointed to the left. “Apartment 105.”
Hamilton heard more frantic voices nearby and sirens getting closer. He needed to move her now before it got too crowded.
“Let’s go.” He lifted her from the floor before she could protest and eased down the hall.