Beloved Killer, page 5
There was an audible intake of breath, and Allen’s tone grew more assertive. “I’ll leave it up to you. If you’re interested, you can call me.” He gave his number, then wrapped up the call. “Okay. I hope you call. It’d be nice to have someone to hang with. We can compare notes on how weird it is to be back in the old neighborhood.”
Nikki stared at the answering machine, finger hovering over the delete button. But instead, she replayed the message and entered Allen’s number into her phone.
She listened to the quiet settling sounds of an empty building. It was nearly one o’clock on a Sunday night. Would she seem eager if she called Allen right now? Just yesterday she’d been brushing him off. But all of a sudden she couldn’t bear the idea of being alone. She was young, single, and in dire need of at least a pseudo date.
She made the call.
An hour later, she met Allen at a diner not too far away. Nikki thought how lucrative it must be, serving pancakes and eggs to drunks at three in the morning every day of the week. High-end restaurants came and went. Bars like hers struggled to pay the liquor bill. But cheap diners endured forever.
Allen was waiting for her in a booth. He smiled and waved at her.
She walked over to the table, and in a flash saw the whole thing playing out. This guy who’d had a crush on her all through high school would keep calling for dates. She’d have to fend him off. She shouldn’t have responded to his message. She’d end up hurting him.
Nikki slid into the booth. “Hi. Thanks for coming out so late.”
“Not a problem. I’m really glad you called. And let me apologize again for acting like a dick last night.”
“No. Tina and I misread the situation. The guy really was just lingering over a drink. Not his fault he’s sort of scary looking.”
“He was, wasn’t he? And a helluva fighter. Fast.”
The waitress came over and poured coffee. Allen waited until she was gone before he continued. “You should have some sort of protection when you’re in the bar late at night. It’s not safe.”
“My dad used to keep a baseball bat behind the bar, but I can’t see myself using one on somebody.”
“Maybe have a silent alarm installed,” he suggested.
She wrapped her hands around the cup to warm them. “I’ll get right on a security system as soon as I have an extra thousand bucks lying around. Not that it’d matter as useless as the cops around here are.” She knew from past history that they weren’t responsive to problems in her neighborhood.
“Business not so good?”
The very subject she’d come here to forget. “Not terrible, but my dad left some debt along with the bar. I’d rather not talk about it. Tell me something about you.” Distract me.
“I’m almost twenty-six and back in my parents’ house, so I’ve got that going for me.” He grinned ruefully. “Somehow I thought I’d be further along in life by now. Recruiter made me think I’d come out of the army with a degree, money in my pocket, and a solid future. Didn’t quite work out that way.”
It was a relief to listen to someone else’s problems, not that she didn’t get an earful at the bar every night. Allen talked for a while about his experiences in Afghanistan, his problems since coming home, his vague plans about what to do next. All she had to do was listen and sip her coffee.
“Sorry. I’ve been rambling on about myself,” he said at last. “I don’t usually talk about me all the time, I swear.”
“It’s okay. I’m interested.”
“But I’m interested in hearing about you. What have you been doing since high school?”
Nikki blew an audible breath and smiled. “Aw crap, I was hoping we wouldn’t have to go there.”
“That bad?”
“No. Just not that interesting. Basically, like you, I thought I’d be in a different place by this point in my life. I started out okay. Went to college, got halfway through a business degree; then I met a guy and got…distracted.”
Allen nodded in sympathy. “Romance will do that to you.”
“I wasted a bunch of time on him, and just as I was starting to get back on track, I got the call about my dad. I came here expecting to lay him to rest and wrap up his business affairs but ended up keeping the bar.”
“Why, if you hate it?” His warm blue eyes invited her to tell more.
“It’s not that I hate it. I like the customers. There’s a loyal clientele. Established. I could do worse starting up a new business of my own. But my dad didn’t leave the place in the best fiscal shape. I’m trying to put the pieces back together and make it work. Thus the long hours and no time for a social life.”
Allen reached across the table to cover her hand with his. “Well, you can call me any time to hang out. If there’s ever anything bothering you, or you just want to talk, I’m all over it.”
“Thanks.”
His warm skin felt good against hers, and it had been way too long since she’d been touched. After Tony, she’d sworn off men for a while to refocus on classes. Since she’d been home, despite getting hit on pretty regularly at the bar, she’d had zero action. What would be the harm in bringing kind, attentive Allen home with her tonight?
But Nikki pulled her hand from beneath his and reached for a menu. “How about an early breakfast?”
They talked about everyday things, memories of the past, people they both knew, things going on in the world while they ate omelets and drank more coffee.
Afterward, outside the restaurant, Nikki shook Allen’s hand to keep him from moving in for a kiss. “Thanks again for calling me. This was nice.”
“Like I said, any time.”
He smiled, and for a moment, she could see the boy he’d been back in high school, only less skinny and insecure. Allen seemed to be a truly nice guy, the sort of guy who would be good for her if she allowed herself to fall for him.
But she didn’t change her mind and ask him to walk her home, and when she lay in bed that night, it was the two-minute conversation with Jay that stuck in her mind rather than the two-hour talk with Allen.
There was something about Jay. It sure as hell wasn’t attraction she felt, but she found him strangely fascinating, a mystery in a dark overcoat. She wanted to poke until she found a sensitive spot that would crack open his smooth veneer. Surely there was a living, breathing person underneath the mask of indifference.
Not that it mattered. The henchman served one function in her life—to stop by weekly and take a huge chunk of her income. He certainly wasn’t someone she’d ever become friends with. But he was interesting. And maybe if she were nice to him, he could intercede for her with his boss. It wouldn’t hurt to try to develop an ally. She decided to start being more pleasant when he came around.
The late-night caffeine finally released its grip, and she drifted into anxious sleep full of dreams of running and being chased, of hands grabbing and holding her down. Frightening nightmares bled into dark erotic fantasies.
Nikki awoke, pulse racing, body sweating, pussy yearning. She relieved it by reaching down and touching herself. But even as she came, she ached for something more. She wished she’d brought Allen home after all.
Chapter Eight
She’d called him a thug, and J knew he was. But he’d never quite thought of himself that way before. Working for Kuypers was what he did. It was his life. He hadn’t examined it too closely, and, stupid as it would seem to someone like Nikki Larson, he’d never actually considered the fact that he could do something else. She made it sound so easy to leave. It wasn’t.
The week after his Sunday-night collection at Mike’s Joint moved like a car with flat tires. Every day was painfully long, and the tasks Kuypers assigned were mind-numbingly mundane. J “talked to” a lot of people and collected a lot of money. He accompanied Kuypers to a couple of sit-downs and stood by, keeping an eye on where everybody’s hands were. In his experience, these meetings never ended in bloodshed, but that was always a possibility.
Midweek he had to settle a grudge between Mac and Tyrone, a couple of Kuypers’s other employees. New guy Tyrone had taken initiative and broken previously untapped markets using the Internet, something old Mac never would’ve thought of. Some of his contacts just happened to be in Mac’s territory. J negotiated peace, convincing Tyrone to give Mac a token percentage.
“The guy’s a loose cannon,” Mac complained when they were alone.
“He’s young and trying to make a name for himself like you did once. Cut him some slack,” J cautioned.
“I don’t like him.”
Tyrone was the future and Mac the past, and J couldn’t care less about either of them. Business bored and exhausted him. He’d spent the entire miserable week simply looking forward to Sunday.
Of course he didn’t have to wait to see Nikki. He could hang out at the bar, pretending Kuypers wanted him there. Yeah, he could be a stalker, but he had a better plan. On his next collection visit, he’d be so charming she couldn’t help but be swept away by his sheer magnetism, totally forgetting he’d kidnapped her on their first meeting. Yeah. That was going to happen.
Eons later, it was Sunday night at last. J found Nikki alone in the empty bar, sweeping the floor with the same broom she’d tried to brain him with.
She acknowledged his entrance with a nod. “Be right with you.”
J went to the bar and settled on one of the stools. He reviewed the conversation starters he’d thought up for tonight’s meeting. “Cold out tonight” was one. Another sparkling gem was “How’s business?” He had some great ideas for ending the conversation too, such as “Have a nice night.” That would surely win her over as he walked off with her money.
Instead of any of these conversational marvels, he remained silent as she handed him the envelope of cash. Then, as she turned away, he blurted, “You look tired.”
Immediately, her bright eyes were back on him. “Well, I’ve been working since two this afternoon, and I haven’t had a day to myself in weeks, so, yeah, I’m tired.”
“What about your waitress? Can’t she fill in?”
“She’s working more than she wants to already. Besides, I can’t afford to pay her and your boss too.”
Another “I’m sorry” rose to his lips, but he’d worn out that expression. It didn’t change anything. She still owed money, and he’d continue to take it from her.
“Maybe you could…” he trailed off.
“Maybe I could what?” she demanded.
“Let Mr. Kuypers use your place, and he’ll expunge your debt. It would be a lot easier.”
He wasn’t trying to convince her for Kuypers’s sake. He was just speaking the truth, but Nikki glared at him like he was the devil.
“No, it wouldn’t. I’d be abetting criminal activity. When your boss eventually goes down, I’d be part of it. Not to mention it’s wrong.”
“He won’t be arrested, you know. Mr. Kuypers is pretty untouchable.”
“Politicians and police in his pocket. Why am I not surprised?” she said sourly.
Desperate to prolong the conversation, J said, “Could I have a drink?”
Nikki sighed. “Sure. Why the hell not. Bourbon?”
He nodded and for a moment was thrilled she’d paid attention to what he drank the other night. Then he realized it was a bartender’s business to recall drinks.
She set a glass with a finger’s worth of amber liquid in front of him, stingy with the liquor so he’d be done sooner. He put it to his lips and barely sipped before setting the glass down.
“Do you like museums?” One of the stupider conversational gambits he’d dreamed up burst out of his mouth before he could stop it.
“Do I like what?” Her eyes widened.
He wanted to disappear, but he gritted his teeth and forged on. “Museums. Science, history, art.”
“Yeah, sure. I like museums.” Laughter bubbled beneath her words. “Do you?”
“Yes.” That was all he could think of. He stared at the glass and was about ready to toss back the booze and get the hell out of there before she laughed in his face.
“What kind of museums do you like? You seem like a history kind of guy.”
“Science. There’s, uh, scope for imagination.” He continued to stare at the glass. “But I enjoy them all.”
She dipped her head, trying to catch his averted gaze. “Are you seriously trying to have a conversation with me? Is this your idea of flirting?”
He stood. “I should go.”
“No. Sit,” she ordered. “I’ve got to hear more of this.”
And now she was laughing and J’s stomach was churning.
“You have the balls to hit on me after you kidnapped me. How did you think I’d react?” She kept talking as he walked away. “What would make you think I’d have anything to do with you if I didn’t have to, Jay?”
He winced as his every imagined worst-case scenario came true. He was humiliated past bearing. But even as her laughter followed him out the door, a tiny part of him perked up because she’d called him by name. He truly was pathetic. Bad enough to develop a crush, but worse he’d tried to act on it. He’d schooled himself long ago not to care about much of anything, yet he’d allowed this woman to get inside his head and fuck him up.
No more. He would turn off the switch and return to normal, send someone else to collect in the future and erase Nikki Larson from his consciousness.
****
Nikki found herself thinking about that weird encounter with Jay too often the following week. She’d been right to shut the creep down so there was no reason to feel sort of bad about the momentary flash of pain in his eyes when she’d laughed at him. Man was a violent thug. He deserved to be hurt.
Yet she kept replaying over and over his quiet mutter, Do you like museums? She felt as if she’d kicked a stray dog when it reached out to her for a scrap. Could she have been a little kinder? Sure. Should she have been? Hell, no! The asshole worked for the man who was slowly bleeding her dry. She had no reason to feel guilty about hurting his feelings.
If she were to feel guilty about anything, it should be ignoring Allen’s texts, which came with decreasing frequency as the week passed. She’d had a nice time with him the other night, but she wasn’t quite ready to encourage him. She’d told the truth when she said she had no time or energy to be dating anybody. It was all she could do to keep her head above water financially. She wasn’t anxious for some sort of emotional entanglement, and with Allen she guessed “just hanging out” would quickly turn to more.
Thursday, she finally returned one of his messages. Sorry. I’ve been crazy busy. Don’t know when we can get 2gether again. I’ll let u know. It was curt, but it would have to do.
At the end of Saturday night, Tina sat and had a drink with her after closing.
“Wanna go out?” Tina asked. “I’m meeting my boyfriend at an all-night club. There’s one of his friends you should meet.”
“I’m pretty dragged out. I’ll probably just go to bed.”
Tina sipped her martini and frowned. “You look like hell. You can’t keep on like this, just working and sleeping. You’ve gotta get a social life.”
“I’m not much of a clubber.”
“Fine. Something outdoorsy, then. Jogging or whatever. But you’ve got to get out of this place.”
“I will as soon as I can afford to hire more help. You know my dad didn’t leave the bar exactly solvent.”
“Why do you feel like you have to clean up his mess? Sell the bar. Get out from under his debt.”
“Who’s buying? You?”
“Just let it go. Take a loss,” Tina said.
Nikki raised an eyebrow. “You want to be out of a job?”
“Hey, I’m a great waitress. I can make better tips elsewhere. I only stick around because you need me.”
Nikki grinned. “I do need you. Thanks for sticking by me.”
“For now,” Tina warned. “But something’s gotta give soon. Neither of us can keep up these hours.”
“You’re right.” Nikki finished off her beer. “And maybe I should just let go of the place instead of sinking more money into trying to keep it afloat. I suppose it has something to do with me feeling guilty for not being here the past couple of years when my dad fell apart. Maybe I could’ve done something to help.”
“But there’s no reason for you to beat yourself up about it or tie yourself to his failures.”
“Ooh, Tina, you’re all wise and insightful tonight,” Nikki teased.
She lifted her glass. “It’s the martini. You should hear me after about two more.”
After Tina hugged her good-bye and left, Nikki shut off the lights and went upstairs. She’d tried to end the conversation on a light note, but Tina’s words weighed on her. Was hanging on to the bar some form of self-punishment? She should abandon all Dad’s debts—including the one to Kuypers—and just leave town.
Eating leftovers from the fridge, she looked out the kitchen window at the few parked cars on the street. J’s sedan hadn’t been there all week. So she was off surveillance, but she’d see the man tomorrow. Why should that idea stir anything other than dread inside her? She had to admit the guy intrigued her in some perverse way. He made the hair on her neck prickle and inspired a tingling she didn’t even want to think about. His presence put her on edge, which made her want to crack his deadpan expression. Well, she’d achieved that last week. Maybe this time she’d actually talk to him a little.
But Jay didn’t show up that Sunday. Instead, a black guy with a smoothly shaven head came in at nearly midnight and sat at the bar.
“I’m about to close,” Nikki warned. “If you want a beer, you’re going to have to drink fast.”
“I’m collecting for Mr. Kuypers.”
“Where’s Jay?”
“Busy.”
Nikki felt like one of those games where you have to get BBs into little holes. She was all shaken up, and the balls were clattering around searching for a new place to land.
