Radclyffe - Sheltering Dunes

Damn it, Flynn, what are you doing?

Flynn and Mica started off again, cutting through the crowd, and Allie fell in behind them. She wouldn’t have called Reese if she hadn’t been certain something was off with Mica, and talking to her for a few minutes in the Piper had made her even more certain. The girl had been skittish, more than skittish—she’d looked like the hounds of hell were after her. That would’ve tripped her trigger even if Mica hadn’t been hanging around Flynn. She wasn’t about to stand around doing nothing and watch Flynn get dragged into something that might get nasty. If she had to traipse around town in the middle of the night, every night, to find out what the hell was going on, she would.

And first thing in the morning, if the computers didn’t give her a lead as to the girl’s identity, she’d have to go at it the old-fashioned way. She’d convince Reese to let her bring the girl in for questioning. Reese had said to trust her instincts, and her instincts were telling her trouble, big trouble, was waiting right around the corner.

Chapter Nine

“So,” Mica said, “this is it.”

She slowed in front of a ramshackle building that once must have been an elegant captain’s house. Now, even in the weak light cast by the moon ducking in and out of the clouds, the shabbiness was hard to miss. Peeling paint, sagging porch, shutters hanging askew. She’d been lucky to get the apartment—more like a big room, really, with the bonus of having a private bathroom, and she’d used the last of her money paying the first month in advance.

“Thanks for dinner,” Flynn said.

Mica shook her head. “You paid, remember? So that’s my line.”

“Tell you what,” Flynn said. “Let’s make a deal—no lines. I won’t if you won’t.”

“What does that leave us with?” Mica asked, looking for the con.

“The truth.”

“Yeah, right. But why not?” She tossed the ball back to Flynn. Her play. Let’s see what she called truth. “So why the dinner?”

“Like I said before, I enjoy your company.” And she sounded like she meant it. Looked it too—her eyes glinting in the moonlight, an easy smile making her look sexy and sleek.

For a crazy nanosecond, Mica contemplated asking Flynn upstairs with her. She’d had a good time at dinner—a really good time. Flynn was easy on the eyes, easy to talk to, easy to be with. Too easy. She made Mica forget for minutes at a time to be careful, to be wary. Flynn even made her forget now and then to pay attention to who walked by, who followed in the near darkness, who might be waiting up ahead. Dangerous. Stupid and dangerous, all because Flynn made her forget her own rules. And now she was thinking about asking Flynn upstairs? Yeah, right.

“Are you working tomorrow?” Flynn asked.

“I work every day, if I can,” Mica said.

“Then you probably have to get up early. I should let you go.”

Flynn didn’t move away, and neither did Mica. Nothing waited for her upstairs. A silent room, an empty bed, another night when she kept the loneliness at bay by replaying the alternatives in her mind. Hector’s mocking laugh, his rough hands, the wild, crazy gleam in his eyes.

“You want to come up?” Mica blurted. When she looked into Flynn’s eyes, she couldn’t see Hector’s.

“I think we should stick to the original plan,” Flynn said seriously. She cupped Mica’s chin and kissed her on the cheek before Mica could jerk her head away. “Thanks for tonight.”

Mica stiffened. Flynn’s lips were soft and warm. She smelled like autumn in the park, with just a hint of sweetness beneath the rich scent of burning leaves. Mica hadn’t walked in the park since she was ten and her mother took her and her brother and sister to the playground on the rare Saturday or Sunday she wasn’t working. Then her mother had lost her job and gotten hooked up with a man who’d put his hands on Mica’s ass one too many times, and she’d found a new family. After she’d joined MS-13, there were no more late-afternoon walks in the park, not even the little scraggly one along the waterfront across the highway from the high-rise where she lived. Mica pulled away from the kiss before her body asked for more. “What the hell was that? If you don’t want anything—”

“I don’t.” Flynn backed up. Her blond hair silvered in the moonlight. Her lanky body, all dangerous edges and teasing curves, shimmered like a blade. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

Mica’s breath snagged on a lump in the middle of her chest. “Flynn—”

“Night, Mica.”

Her name whispered on the wind and Flynn was gone.

Mica waited, holding her breath, her belly tight and aching, anticipating the instant when Flynn would reappear. She touched her fingertips to her middle, felt her muscles clench—an unfamiliar longing swirled in her chest. Flynn didn’t come back, and after a minute, Mica sucked in a breath, spun around, and climbed the porch. She let herself in and hurried up the dark stairs to the second-floor rear apartment. The room smelled musty and abandoned, but underneath the heavy scent of loss, she detected a hint of the sea, and hope. Leaning back against the closed door, she shut her eyes. Her face tingled from the touch of Flynn’s lips. That ache in her belly was bigger, part loneliness—that she was used to—and another part so unusual she hadn’t recognized it at first. The slow burn of desire flickered and flared. Her breasts tightened, her nipples pebbled underneath her T-shirt. Her belly quivered.

None of the girls she’d played with, not even the ones she’d kissed in the shadows when the loneliness got too big, had made her want so much. She’d been crazy to ask Flynn to come upstairs. She couldn’t afford to let anyone inside her defenses. Especially not someone who made her forget for minutes at a time that her life was not her own.

*

Allie let herself into her garden apartment between Commercial and Bradford a little after one. Her cell phone finally caught a signal and she saw she had voice mail. She dropped her keys onto the table that doubled as a dining table and desk and scrolled through the short list, her heart kicking up when she spotted Ash’s number. She slid her thumb over the Listen icon.

Hi, babe, I guess you must be asleep. Sorry I didn’t call sooner—I’m in some kind of a dead zone and can’t get a signal half the time. Talk to you in the morning. I love you.

Allie replayed the message. Ash’s husky voice cut through her as if she hadn’t heard it hundreds of times before, leaving her awash with joy and desire and old fears. Ever since Ash had come back into her life a few weeks ago, the old wounds had started to heal, but she still had moments when she walked into the empty apartment and nearly drowned under the crushing memory of the long, lonely months after Ash left her. God, she’d been miserable. She’d very nearly slept with Flynn to push the pain away. She didn’t regret having met Flynn, having gotten close to her, but a small part of her worried she might have been using Flynn, and the guilt burned. She hit Call and waited, her stomach jittery with anticipation.

“Hi, baby.” Ash sounded wide-awake.

“Hey,” Allie said, moving through the living room to her bedroom without turning on a light. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“No, I’m watching TV,” Ash said. “I’ve been in the car so much I needed to unwind a little bit before trying to sleep.”

“How’s it going?” Allie pushed the speaker button, set the cell phone on the dresser, and pulled off her T-shirt. “Are you almost done?”

“Getting there. I’ve got a couple of sites to visit tomorrow morning and then I’ll hit the last ones on my return leg. I ought to be back soon.”