His hands bunched to fists at his sides. Real danger lurked
“Just remember, Brick,” Darlene said, eyeing him. “We’re the good guys.”
He couldn’t say he’d stay on that side of the law. Not if Remi’s life was hanging in the balance. The rules no longer applied, and for the first time in his life, he felt the siren’s call of the gray area between right and wrong.
49
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.”