Carver, page 2
“What the hell was that about?” the man spat, struggling against his restraints. “Let me go!”
Carver approached him, his expression darkening. This room was soundproof but he’d forgotten to close the door when Lucy rang the doorbell.
“You need to keep quiet,” Carver said calmly. “Or things will get much worse for you.”
The man glared at him but said nothing more, recognizing the dangerous edge in Carver’s tone. Carver tightened the gag around his prisoner’s mouth, ensuring there would be no more outbursts. He checked the bindings, making sure they were secure.
As he straightened up, his mind drifted back to Lucy—her face, her fear, and the brief connection they had shared haunted him. He wished for a different life, one where he could be honest with her, but that life was a fantasy, far removed from his reality.
With a final glance at his prisoner, Carver left the room, closing the door behind him. He returned to the kitchen and cut himself a slice of the pie. Carver took a bite, slowly savoring it, wondering what Lucy was doing now. Had he blown his cover? He had moved into this apartment so he could do his work quietly, away from the watchful eyes of his two brothers. They meant well, he knew, but sometimes he needed a little breathing room.
As he finished his first slice and cut himself another, he couldn’t help but marvel at Lucy’s baking skills. The pie was perfect—sweet, tangy, and comforting in a way that made him crave more. He wanted to taste more of her sweet treats, and not just her baking. But had she already become more suspicious of him? Would she call the cops?
Whenever a potential problem cropped up, Devlin and Galen trusted him to deal with it, and yet he didn’t want to believe Lucy would be a problem. She was a sweet girl, too innocent for the likes of him. She probably believed his excuse.
He finished the second slice, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. The memory of Lucy’s doe-like eyes filled with fear gnawed at him. He had seen enough fear in his line of work to know it well, but seeing it in her eyes was different. It unsettled him, made him unhappy.
Carver rinsed his plate and set it in the sink, his thoughts drifting back to the girl who lived in the apartment next door. If Lucy ever found out the truth about him, about what he did and why, it would shatter her perception of him completely.
He glanced at the clock. It was late, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep. Not with the lingering taste of Lucy’s pie on his tongue.
What if Lucy did become suspicious? He couldn’t afford to let her derail his work. Yet, he also couldn’t bring himself to hurt her or drive her away.
Carver’s cell phone vibrated on the table and he picked it up, saw it was a message from Devlin, asking him if the prisoner had talked yet.
With a sigh, Carver stood and walked back to the room where his guest was held. Opening the door, he looked at the man bound to the chair, his eyes wide with fear and desperation.
Carver approached him, his expression hardening. “We’re going to have a little chat,” he said quietly, his voice cold and controlled. “And you’re going to tell me everything I need to know. If you cooperate, this will be over quickly. If not...” He let the threat hang in the air, unspoken but clear.
As he prepared to extract the information he needed, Carver couldn’t shake the image of Lucy from his mind. Her kindness and the way she had looked at him with those trusting eyes.
He pushed the thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand. There would be time to deal with his feelings later—if there was a later. For now, he had a job to do, and he couldn’t afford any distractions, no matter how sweet they might be.
****
Carver groaned, realizing he’d fallen asleep on his sofa. The morning light streamed through the curtains, casting a harsh glare over the room.
“Morning,” a familiar, cheerful voice greeted him.
He glared at Devlin, who stood there in his sleek and fancy suit, casually sipping a morning coffee. For a moment, Carver was angry. This was supposed to be his private space.
Devlin had promised not to intrude, and yet here he was. What was he even doing here? Questioning his work? What if someone saw Devlin in his suit and fancy car?
No, Carver wasn’t worried about his brother getting robbed. The Arrow brothers had a certain reputation in the city, and even a two-bit thug knew not to mess with any of them.
But still … what if Lucy saw Devlin enter his apartment? Then again, he doubted Lucy would even recognize or know his brother.
“Woke up in a cranky mood, I see,” Devlin said, smirking over the rim of his coffee cup.
“Why are you here?” Carver asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Calm down. You didn’t respond to my text last night. I was worried. Galen told me you probably just got carried away with your guest,” Devlin said, his tone light but with an underlying seriousness.
Carried away. Yeah, Carver supposed that sometimes happened to him. None of them—Devlin, Galen, or himself—had turned out normal thanks to their father.
“I trust that Tom Emmet is still alive?” Devlin asked, an edge to his voice.
Carver sat up, running a hand through his hair. “He’s alive. Bound, gagged, and missing a few teeth, fingers, and toes, but alive,” he answered.
Devlin nodded, his expression shifting to one of approval.
“Good. We need him to be able to talk,” Devlin said.
Carver clenched his jaw. He knew how furious Devlin got when someone stole from them, and Tom Emmet was either brave or stupid for taking what amounted to several thousand dollars’ worth of cocaine.
Emmet knew the only reason he was still alive was because he hadn’t yet revealed to Carver where he hid the goods, but that wouldn’t last long. Eventually, they all talked under his knife.
“I’ll get what we need out of him. You don’t have to worry about that,” Carver said.
“I never doubted it,” Devlin said, his tone softening slightly. He moved to sit on the armchair opposite the sofa, crossing one leg over the other. “You look like you could use a real meal. Take a break. Stop by the house and let my chef make you a hearty breakfast.”
Carver grunted, not in the mood for small talk. “I’ve got things under control. You didn’t need to come here,” he said.
Devlin shrugged. “Maybe I just missed my baby brother,” Devlin said.
Carver rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a small smile. Despite everything, there was a bond between them that couldn’t be broken.
“Yeah, well, I’m touched. But you should go,” Carver said.
Devlin’s expression grew serious again. “Just remember, Carver, we’re in this together. If you encounter a problem, you call me. Don’t try to do everything on your own,” Devlin reminded him.
“I know,” Carver replied, meeting his brother’s gaze. “But I’ve got this. Trust me.”
Devlin studied him for a moment before nodding. “All right. Just don’t forget to eat something. And clean yourself up. You look like hell.”
With that, Devlin stood and made his way to the door. As he left, Carver couldn’t help but feel a mixture of relief and frustration. He appreciated his brother’s concern, but he needed the space to handle things his own way.
As the door closed behind Devlin, Carver took a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension. He needed to focus. There was still a lot to do, and he couldn’t afford any distractions.
His mind wandered briefly to Lucy, wondering what she was doing right now. Probably going for her usual morning jog before heading to work. He hoped she hadn’t heard any of the conversation or seen Devlin leave. But for now, he had to put those thoughts aside.
Carver stood and headed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face to wake himself up fully. He glanced at his reflection in the mirror, seeing the tired lines and dark circles under his eyes.
He couldn’t let this life wear him down. He had to stay sharp, for his sake and for those he cared about.
After freshening up, he made his way to the back room. The door creaked as he opened it, revealing Tom Emmet still bound to the chair, his eyes wide with a mix of fear and defiance.
“Morning, Emmet,” Carver said, his voice steady. “Ready for the next round?”
The man glared at him but remained silent. Carver sighed, pulling up a chair and sitting down in front of him. “Look, Tom, you know I can keep you alive for a long time,” Carver began.
Emmet’s gaze flickered, and Carver could see the resolve starting to crack. It was only a matter of time before he got what he needed.
The image of Lucy’s hazel eyes and kind smile lingered in the back of his mind as he picked up the next tool on his little table. After he took care of Emmet, maybe he could ask her if she wanted to watch a movie together.
Chapter Three
Lucy woke up that morning, the tendrils of her erotic dream still lingering in her head. The dream had been vivid, almost real.
She could still recall Carver gripping her hair, pressing his hot mouth over hers, cornering her against the wall.
Lucy, begging him to do whatever he wanted with her. She sighed, slipping her hand under her pillow, feeling the reassuring cold metal of her gun.
Lucy used to think that despite the broken-down building she lived in, with its peeling wallpaper and creaky floors, there was a small corner of safety thanks to Carver, but she wasn’t sure anymore.
With a sigh, she pushed the covers back and swung her legs over the side of the bed, feeling the cool wooden floor beneath her feet. She stood up, stretching her arms above her head, and walked to the small window in her bedroom. The city outside was already bustling, cars honking and people moving about their daily routines.
She smiled slightly, taking in the familiar sights and sounds.
Her thoughts drifted to the previous evening, to the strange noises she had heard from Carver’s apartment, and his quick dismissal with the “horror movie” excuse.
She frowned, the memory bringing back a flicker of unease. But then she remembered the kiss, how he had leaned in and captured her lips with such intensity. Her heart fluttered at the memory, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
Shaking her head, she tried to push the mixed emotions aside. She had a busy day ahead, starting with her morning run.
She quickly changed into her workout clothes, a pair of comfortable leggings, and a loose tank top. She tied her hair into a ponytail, grabbed her water bottle and earbuds, and headed out the door.
The fresh air hit her face as she stepped outside, and she took a deep breath, feeling more awake. She started jogging, her pace steady as she made her way through the neighborhood.
Running always cleared her mind, and she hoped it would help her make sense of the conflicting thoughts and feelings swirling inside her.
As she ran, her thoughts kept circling back to Carver. There was something about him, something that drew her in despite the warnings in her head. He was enigmatic, a puzzle she wanted to solve, and yet there was an edge to him that made her wary.
She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that there was more to him than he let on. She was so distracted, she didn’t notice the black Jaguar that nearly ran her over.
Thankfully, a passerby grabbed her arm and pulled her aside. A Jaguar in their neighborhood? Must be some spoiled rich driver, wanting to see the other side of town. She shook her head and returned to her apartment.
At the very least, she did feel invigorated. She took a quick shower, letting the hot water relax her muscles. As she dressed for the day, she found herself glancing at the clock, wondering what Carver was doing. Was he thinking about her too?
She dressed for work and headed to the kitchen to make breakfast. As she cracked eggs into a bowl, her mind wandered back to the pie she had made for Carver. She hoped he had enjoyed it, and a small smile tugged at her lips at the thought of him savoring her baking.
Lucy wondered if she should knock on his door again tonight, maybe invite him over for coffee. But then she remembered the scream she had heard, and doubt crept in once more.
Lucy shook her head, focusing on whisking the eggs. Maybe she was overthinking things. Maybe it really had been just a movie. But a part of her couldn’t let go of the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
As she sat down to eat her breakfast, she made a decision. She would be cautious, but she wouldn’t let fear dictate her actions.
If Carver was hiding something, she would find out. But until then, she would give him the benefit of the doubt. Everyone deserved a chance, after all.
****
Lucy was minding her business at the diner, wiping down the counter and occasionally chatting with Cindy, who was restocking the shelves with napkins and condiments.
The morning crowd had come and gone, leaving the diner in a lull before the lunchtime rush. The soft hum of the refrigerator and the clinking of dishes in the kitchen were the only sounds that filled the space.
Cindy leaned over, nudging Lucy with a grin. “So, any plans for tonight?”
Lucy shook her head, smiling. “Not really. Just hoping to get some rest,” she admitted. Perhaps she’d bake a simple banana cake, offer some to Carver, although she decided not to tell Cindy that.
Their conversation was interrupted by the unmistakable shuffle of their sleazy manager, Burt, as he approached. Burt was a balding man in his late forties with a perpetual smirk that made Lucy’s skin crawl. He stopped in front of her, his eyes lingering a bit too long.
“Lucy, looking good today,” he said, his eyes raking over her. “Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven, or did you trip over all those damn curves?”
Lucy forced a polite smile, her stomach churning with disgust. She turned to continue wiping the counter, hoping he would take the hint and leave her alone. But Burt wasn’t one to back down easily.
“Hey, Lucy,” he said, leaning against the counter, far too close for comfort. “How about you and me go out sometime? Maybe tonight?”
Lucy’s grip tightened on the cloth in her hand. She took a deep breath, steadying herself before responding. “No, thanks, Burt. I’m not interested,” she said.
Burt widened his smirk, clearly enjoying the chase. “Aw, come on. Don’t be like that. What’s the matter? Got someone else lined up?” Burt asked.
Lucy hesitated for a split-second, her mind racing. She needed to shut this down, and fast. The last thing she wanted was to make her work environment even more uncomfortable.
Without thinking, she blurted out, “Actually, I’m seeing someone else.”
Burt’s laughter filled the diner, loud and mocking. “Seeing someone else? Don’t make up things, Lucy. We both know you don’t have time to find a boyfriend,” he said.
Lucy flushed with a mix of embarrassment and anger. Before she could think of a retort, Cindy stepped in.
“She’s telling the truth, Burt,” Cindy said, her tone sharp. “Now, leave her alone. You’ve got better things to do, don’t you?”
Burt’s expression darkened for a moment, but he quickly masked it with another sleazy smile. “All right, all right. No need to get all worked up. Just thought I’d ask,” Burt grumbled.
As Burt walked away, Lucy let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She looked at Cindy, grateful for her friend’s intervention.
“Thanks, Cindy,” she said, her voice shaking slightly.
“Anytime,” Cindy replied, giving her a reassuring smile. “That guy’s a creep. Don’t let him get to you.”
Before Lucy could respond, the little bell above the front door chimed, signaling the arrival of a new customer. Lucy turned, her heart skipping a beat when she saw who it was.
Carver. Of all people, she never expected to see him here. She’d mentioned her workplace once or twice during their short elevator conversations, but she never thought he’d show up.
Her heart raced as he walked in, every inch of him exuding confidence and quiet strength. Dressed in a plain black shirt that clung to his muscular frame, he looked effortlessly good.
His broad shoulders and defined arms were impossible to ignore, and the way his jeans fit made her pulse quicken. She felt a flush creep up her neck as he scanned the diner and then locked eyes with her.
As he approached, Lucy’s body reacted in a way she couldn’t control. Her stomach fluttered, and her palms grew slightly clammy.
She didn’t understand why she always felt this intense pull toward him, this mix of excitement and nervousness. When he smiled at her, a slow, genuine smile that reached his dark green eyes, she practically melted.
“Hey, Lucy,” he said, his voice warm and steady.
“Carver,” she managed to reply, her voice catching slightly. “What brings you here?”
“Thought I’d stop by for some breakfast,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “You did say this place has the best coffee in town.”
Lucy felt her cheeks warm at the compliment. “Well, I hope we live up to the reputation,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Can I sit anywhere?” he asked, glancing around the mostly empty diner.
“Of course,” she said, gesturing to a booth by the window. “I’ll be right over with a menu.”
As Carver walked to the booth, Lucy quickly grabbed a menu and a coffeepot. Cindy shot her a knowing look but didn’t say anything. Lucy took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing of her heart, and walked over to where Carver had settled.
“Here’s the menu,” she said, placing it in front of him and pouring a cup of coffee. “Anything specific you’re in the mood for?”
Carver took the menu, his fingers brushing hers for a moment, sending a shiver down her spine.
“Surprise me,” he said.
Lucy nodded, unable to hide her smile. “All right, I’ll see what I can do,” she said.
As she walked back to the counter to place his order, she felt a mix of excitement and nerves. She wasn’t sure why Carver being here affected her so much, but she couldn’t deny the thrill his presence brought. She focused on preparing his breakfast, trying to push aside the lingering tension from her earlier encounter with Burt.
