Broken Build (12 page)

A few minutes later, she was transferred from the ambulance to the hospital. The emergency room was a blur of activity. Jen’s eyes were watery, and she could barely see. Nurses cleaned her wounds and bandaged them. An elderly doctor reassured her that she would have minimal scarring. “Be glad they used a chisel and not a blade.”

“Is there anyone we should call?” a nurse asked.

Jen shook her head. She coughed, and a nurse brought water to her lips. Squinting, she shielded her eyes from the light.

“The police are here,” another voice announced.

“Not yet.” Dave’s voice floated as if down a hollow tube. “I’ll take responsibility for her.”

The orderlies helped her into a wheelchair, and Dave pushed her behind a plastic curtain. He took her hands and rubbed them. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“They threw tear gas into your house. And they cut me.”

“Did they say anything else?”

She pressed her lips together and did not answer. They had called her names and wanted the code. But she wasn’t about to tell Dave what she promised while under attack.

He leaned close to her ear. “I’m not letting you go anywhere until you tell me what you’ve done and explain how the blood got on my car. Were they working with you?”

Jen turned her face to the wall, desperately willing the tears to stop. It had to be the tear gas, not the arrogant asshole hovering over her, trying to pin the blame on her. “I’ll tell the police you washed it off.”

“Don’t be stupid. We had a deal.”

A police woman poked her head through the curtain. “Is she ready?”

“One minute,” Dave said. The police woman backed away.

Dave shoved his face close to hers. “You know what they carved on you?”

Jen shook her head in that quick staccato between fear and dread.

“Code Thief.”

Chapter 11

The police woman whipped the curtain back and glared at Dave. “Are you finished? Or you tampering with the witness?”

Dave kissed the side of Jen’s face and ran his fingers through her hair as if comforting her. He sure as hell wasn’t going to let Jen squeal about the blood on the car.

The police woman jerked her chin. “I want to question her alone.”

“No can do.” Dave crossed his arms.

“You her attorney or her dad?” The police woman smirked.

Steam heated Dave’s collar. “I’m only five years older than her.”

“Then git.” She motioned with her thumb for Dave to step outside of the curtain.

Dave stared at Jen long and hard, but she avoided his gaze. She seemed angry. He crushed an empty Styrofoam coffee cup and strode down the corridor to the exit. He should get rid of the Camry. But where could he dump it? The police would be at his house gathering evidence, and he’d look suspicious going into the garage and leading them right to the car. He numbed his emotions and walked past two police officers.

After calling a cleanup service to board up his windows and sweep up the broken glass, he picked up two bacon-guacamole cheeseburgers, onion rings and soft drinks. Despite the toned muscles on her legs, Jen needed a bit of padding on her belly. He winced. Why would they carve ‘Code Thief’ on her stomach? And how did they know she was at his house?

He arrived back at the hospital and walked into the waiting room. Jen was sitting by herself. He took the adjacent seat. “The police didn’t offer you a ride or call you a taxi?”

Jen looked at her hands. “I’m tired.”

Something about the defeated tone in her voice made Dave ashamed of his behavior. She had been attacked at his home and all he could do was berate her? He took a wheelchair from the corridor, but Jen waved it off, so he swung her into his arms and carried her to his SUV. Since no police officers accosted him, he figured she hadn’t said anything about his car.

She nibbled on her burger and did not talk, so he switched on an eighties rock channel on his satellite radio. Once in a while, she’d shudder as if trying to calm herself. He shouldn’t have been so rough, but he had to know why she gave the code. Had they threatened her before? The marks on her neck had thankfully faded to a yellowish brown tint, but would the scars on her abdomen disappear?

Dave pulled up to his house. Praveena had left Jen’s car in the driveway and put her keys in his mailbox. He took her luggage out of the trunk and set it in the guest room. Then he carried Jen over the threshold and placed her on the bed. She’d been through enough, and he’d protect her from now on, or until the Black Friday build was delivered.

“How’s your ankle?” He propped her leg over a pillow.

She blinked, looking woeful. He smiled to reassure her, but she copied-and-pasted a smile that told him she was anything but.

He fluffed a pillow. “Would you like a drink? Some milk?”

“No, thanks. Could you cut the light? My eyes hurt.”

“Sure.” He dimmed the light and brought back blankets from the linen closet. “These may be dusty. I don’t usually have guests.”

“I’m not exactly a guest, am I?”

He shook out a blanket. “I’d like to think of you as one.”

“Sure, like the inmates at Guantanamo.” She pouted.

He sat on the bed, and his heart did a tap dance being so close to her. “Do the inmates at Guantanamo have me fluffing their pillow?”

She rolled her eyes. “More mercy for them. Are you going to include a bit of waterboarding?”

“Something better. How about a bedtime story and a glass of warm milk?”

“I’m hardly a child.”

“No, I can see
that
.” He wished his voice hadn’t come out as husky as it did. “I’m really sorry they attacked you.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It is. I should’ve been here—not left you alone.” He gazed at her, wondering how he had become so concerned for her.

“Why would you care? Are you going to fire me now?”

“Do I have a reason to?”

She sighed, moving her fingers as if to rub her eye, but dropped her hand.

“You’re in trouble, aren’t you? Do you want to talk about it?” He tried to keep his voice low and gentle. He had to appear nonthreatening, get her to trust him.

 She shook her head and rubbed her face. “I’m tired.”

Dave backed off and went to the kitchen. He should let her go to sleep. But her presence eased his loneliness, and she could use a drink after all she’d gone through. He heated a glass of milk and spiked it with a shot of whiskey.

* * *

Jen rummaged in her suitcase. Thankfully Praveena had packed her supply of disposable contact lenses, toothbrush, and makeup. She fumbled open a bottle of Tylenol and popped two in her mouth. The bloodstained sweater was ruined, and she tossed it in her suitcase. The welts on her stomach were raised and jagged, hastily scrawled. Tears formed in her eyes. At least they used a blunt tool. The deep scratches that broke the skin did not require stitches. She changed the gauze pads and put on an oversized flannel plaid shirt belonging to her father.

After a visit to the bathroom, she pulled on a pair of sweatpants and hopped back to the guest room. What had those guys said? About leaving a message for her boyfriend? Who? Rey was dead. They had to have known that. She buried her head into her hands. It was all too confusing. Dave deserved to know about the threat to his company and her part in it. But would he fire her if she told him?

A soft knock startled her.

“Care for some company?” Dave asked.

“Sure, come in.” It was his house, after all. Jen smoothed her hair back and wrapped a woolen blanket around her shoulders.

Dave entered with a glass of milk and set it on the nightstand. “Shall I turn on the heat?”

“No, I’m okay.”

His eyes were kind as he settled on the edge of the bed.

“I-I have to tell you something.” Her voice strained inside her raw throat.

He raised a hand, looking like he wanted to touch her, but lowered it and stared at her.

“Rey Custodio was blackmailing me.” She stared at her fingers twisting the satin edge of the blanket.

His hand found hers, and he held it, cupping his palm over her knuckles as she trembled. “It’s okay. If you tell me your secret, there’d be no need to fear. What did you do?”

She heaved a giant breath. “Because of me, some people’s lives were ruined.”

“Did you commit a crime?”

“No.” A sob trickled from her throat. “But I was negligent.”

“Is that why your sister’s in a foster home?”

She shook her head. “It wasn’t my sister who I hurt.”

Pain like barbed wire poked under her ribs. Abby was gone and Dave didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe he was at peace with it, but all her feelings poured out from seeing the crib, the dolls and the baby toys.

“Then who?” He handed her the glass, but she pushed it aside, spilling some of it on the bedcover.

He’d hate her if he knew. If she could find clues and bring Abby back, maybe he’d forgive her.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

“I can’t. I need this job.”

“But if you’re stealing code, I can’t have you working for me. The police are holding the memory stick they found on Rey’s body as evidence.” His voice changed from friendly to stern.

She took a deep shuddering breath. If he was going to play hardball, she could too. “I didn’t give him the stick.”

“Stop lying. They found it in his pocket.”

“No-o. They couldn’t have. Some guy jumped me in the parking lot and took the memory stick I made for him. They drove off in a white car.” She pointed a finger at him. “A. White. Car.”

He raised both hands. “Lots of people drive white cars.”

“Not many people have blood on their bumper.” She tightened her jaw and glared at him with what she hoped was a formidable stare, then purposely smiled as if she held a secret. If he was going to pin it on her, she’d take him down with her.

“Oh, you can’t possibly believe I had anything to do with this.” He tipped her chin. “You’re flirting with danger. You think this is funny?”

“Just checking whether the glove fits.”

He clamped her shoulders. “Someone stole my car, okay?”

She stared straight into his flinty eyes. “Then why did you go to the carwash instead of calling the police? Who are you covering for?”

He inhaled through his teeth. “Pretty convenient for you that your blackmailer died. Who are you working for?”

“My car was in the garage all night. Where was yours?”

He drew her face to his. “And my body was in a warm bed. Where was yours?”

Jen slipped a hand around the back of his neck. “I think we understand each other, don’t we?”

Before Dave could draw back, Jen pressed her lips over his and kissed him hard. A growl rumbled in his throat, dangerous and deep. Yanking her hair, he dragged her down on the bed. Jen parted her lips, and a shiver of excitement stole its way down her spine. Tingles blossomed over her chest and mingled with the sting of her wounds, every nerve sparking on high alert.

His lips were strong with the tang of whiskey, and his stubble grazed her chin roughly. She wrapped her fingers around the hair at the nape of his neck while he grabbed both sides of her head and ground his tongue over hers, thrusting and jockeying for domination.

She fought back and nibbled on his lips, sucking them into submission. He groaned and the kisses slowed into deep and languorous caresses. Soft sighs escaped her sore throat as he stroked her jaw and neck. He hovered over her, his weight supported by his elbows, his arousal firmly pressed against her hip.

Her mind swirled with delightful delirium. He was innocent, of course, somehow mixed up with the thugs. They were framing him to extort the code. But he shouldn’t blame her, and she had to be sure he wouldn’t fire her, ever. At least his kisses were dreadfully delicious.

His hand moved under her flannel shirt, brushing the tape on her belly. He cupped a bare breast, and she swallowed a gasp. Pain from her sore ribs mixed with an almost electric tingle of tortuous pleasure. She’d never melted into a man with just a kiss, losing all shred of inhibition, wanting, waiting, no, aching to be touched, probed and handled.

He withdrew his hand. “Do you want me to stop?”

Stop? Was he crazy? No woman told a man like him to stop, and Jen wasn’t about to break his streak. “No, kiss me some more.”

His smile softened his face with boyish charm. “Sure. I can do that.”

And he did. His kisses whispered hope into her heart and promised protection. He fingered her hair, as if enjoying the texture of fine silk. Wow, she could get used to this. Heat flooded her as she appreciated the corded muscles of his shoulders. She wasn’t sure if she had died and gone to Heaven. Floating on a cloud with a gorgeous man who acted as if he desired her, at least until he found out who she really was.

Jennifer Lopez’s “I’m Into You” ringtone spilled out of his pants.

Dave lifted off her and slapped his pocket. “I forgot. Here’s your cell. Praveena left it in your car.”

Embarrassment flushed her face.
Who
had been playing with her ringtone? She took it from him and glanced at the display. Missed call from Christy.

Dave pushed off the bed, his hair ruffled in odd angles that made him look positively delectable.

“I shouldn’t have.” He stuck his hands into his pockets and rocked on his feet side to side. “I’ll let you have some privacy.”

He backed to the door and exited.

Jen caught her breath as she flipped through her text messages. Christy heard she’d been kidnapped and was worried sick. Her fingers fumbled on the down arrow. Rey’s number and a new message.
Where’s the code, bitch?

Chapter 12

Jen dropped the phone on the bedspread and limped to the bathroom. Her eyes were puffy and swollen, red and teary.
Real attractive. Not.
When the cell phone rang, Dave couldn’t get out of the room fast enough. What would he do if he knew she had been his nanny? She splashed water on her face. At least the kiss stalled him from demanding answers.

She hopped back to the guest room. Her laptop sat open on the dresser in screensaver mode. It had been strangely silent, no instant message pings, no softphone or video chat rings. What if they had replaced her already? She pulled the laptop on the bed and checked the message screen. Everyone was on. Praveena, Lester, Satish, Wei. Lester had been spinning the builds, and Greta had sent an email about automation. Nothing required her attention. No one asked where she had been all day, nor did Greta demand she be at work.