Chasing Silver (4 page)

The moment she reached to satisfy even one of her racing wants, though, Nathan pulled away. His breathing was ragged, his pupils blown with desire, and Remy was transfixed by the sight of his tongue finally darting out to lick across his lower lip, as if chasing the taste of her.

“You win,” she said. “Your bedside manner is definitely better than mine.”

Nathan backed away from the couch and gestured toward the plastic bag. “You can help yourself, if you’re hungry. Get some rest.” Each word carried him further away, until he was nearly out of the room entirely.

Her mouth slanted into a soft smile before she leaned over to retrieve the T-shirt he’d left for her to sleep in. “I think that might actually happen now. Thanks. Again.” By the time she’d pulled the shirt over her head, he was gone.

Nathan awkwardly stripped off his clothes, desperate to get out of the tight, sweat-soaked pants. His mind was a mess of incoherent thoughts and vivid images of Remy’s nearly naked, ready, willing body, and he could still taste her soft lips, still smell her sweat, her hair.

Nathan stepped into the shower, welcoming the hot frenzy of water against his skin. Basking under the spray for a moment, he reached for the soap with shaking hands, working up a desperate lather. He let the bar slip from his fingers, then ran his hands over his chest, the back of his neck, his arms, and his thighs before finally wrapping his slick fingers around his erection, with a sigh of mingled relief and regret.

What was he doing jacking off in the shower? What the fuck was he doing? She wanted him. She wanted him, and he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than just kiss her. Nathan moaned. What was keeping him in the bathroom when every cell in his body was calling for hers?

From the first good look he had of her, Nathan had been attracted to Remy. No, before that. He wanted her as soon as he pushed her against the wall and pressed his body against hers. In his defense, he imagined a dead, blind, gay man would be physically attracted to her. Even when she had her episode in the gas station and insisted her fake identification was real. So, she was a little weird. Maybe a little insane. Nathan didn’t know. All he knew was that the heat of her skin had made his head spin, and when he kissed her…he just wanted to taste her again.

When had a girl affected him like this? Ever? He had barely touched her, and yet, the arousal was something bone deep, excruciating and sweet and very heady. The sort of agony that both needed to end and be pleasantly prolonged. Remy would be good. He knew it.

But she was probably crazy. Delusional. And her insanity was contagious because he was not the sort to pick up strange girls, bring them home, and kiss them like a nervous teen on his prom date. And he wasn’t the type to leave the girl and jack off in the shower.

Nathan pushed those thoughts out of his mind. They were important thoughts he should consider very carefully. In the morning. Right now, the only thing he wanted to consider was the friction of her body moving against his, her soft, soft lips against his mouth, against his skin.

Why am I in here? Why aren’t I out there? Why aren’t I inside her right now?

Fair questions, all. The answer was not simple. So, she was crazy? So what. Weird? Not a problem. Violent tendencies? He’d ignore them. But she was confused, and for a moment, she had been frightened of him. If he left the shower right now and went to her still wet, still hard, she wouldn’t turn him down. But he didn’t know if she wanted him, or if she wanted to thank him, or if she wanted to placate him, or bribe him. Or rob and kill him, which he was obliged to accept as a possibility.

Still, Nathan knew how she’d fit around him, how she’d wrap her body around his. He sensed something primal about her, something a little feral. He imagined her shouting his name, imagined her tight muscles clenching around him, her pulse pounding against his lips as he pressed his mouth to her neck. Nathan even felt her come against his body, pulsating heat around his shaft.

The vivid image, so intense he couldn’t help but wonder if it had already happened, pushed him over the edge. The bittersweet orgasm rushed through him. It was enough to take the edge off, but she was still mostly naked on his couch, and he was still hard for her.

Sighing, he rested his head against the cool tile and let the water pound against his back. At least he could think now. Did she have any idea how much, possibly misplaced, self-control it took for him to walk away from her? Did she even care?

Even if she wasn’t injured, she could still be crazy.

What the hell am I going to do?

He’d start by finishing his shower. Nathan soaped his body and hair, his mind far from his task. First, he needed to figure out just who this girl was. That should be easy enough if she wasn’t giving him a fake name. Next, he would find out where she belonged and who was chasing her. Letting her crash on his couch indefinitely was not an option. Finally, he might have to drag her to the hospital against her wishes, because if he couldn’t figure out who she was, where she belonged, or who she was running from, then she could be somebody else’s responsibility.

Nathan rinsed the suds away, watching them fall from his skin and swirl down the drain.

Remy wasn’t even his biggest problem.

Tian had escaped again, but not unscathed. The knife had done serious damage to his shoulder, and he would want a bit of revenge. An eye for an eye, that’s how it always worked. And Tian wasn’t some punk off the streets. He had fifty grand on his head, and with this most recent failure, the reward would almost certainly go up in an effort to attract every bounty hunter on the West Coast.

Nathan resisted putting his fist into the wall as a new, sharp anger sparked. He almost didn’t care about the money, though he needed it very much. He just wanted to bring the asshole in.

He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed. The air was momentarily cool against his wet skin, and the grit had been washed from his eyes. Slinging a towel around his hips, he stepped out of the bathroom and listened in the darkness for Remy. Her breathing sounded deep and even.

Nathan knew he shouldn’t see her right then, but if she was asleep, how much damage could it do? He crept over to the couch, not making even a whisper of sound. Light filtered through the blinds and fell across her sleeping face. She was stretched out in his T-shirt, one blanket draped over her breasts, another pillowing her head.

He swallowed hard. She looked so soft, so inviting, but he suspected she knew how to be unbendable. Despite her confusion and injuries, she didn’t seem vulnerable. She had the look of a hunted animal, but one clever enough to outwit its pursuer.

Who are you?

Another moment passed before he scooped up her discarded pants. Once again, the oddness of the material struck him, but he didn’t linger on that. He rifled through the pockets, ignoring the coins in favor of her fake card. The card might tell him more about the creator than the girl sleeping on his couch, but it could still be useful for Isaac. If anybody could figure out who this stranger was, it would be him. And it was Nathan’s good luck that Isaac never slept. He padded back and fished his cell from his pocket. Isaac’s number was at the top of his address book.

It picked up on the first ring. In the background, a slamming door cut off the low hum of the police station, and then there was only quiet until a baritone came over the line. “McGuire.”

“Isaac, it’s me. I’ve got bad news and a favor to ask. Which do you want first?”

A stream of low curses whispered under Isaac’s breath. Nathan pictured him running his hand over his closely shorn hair. “The day I’ve been having, make it the bad first. Unless your favor means I have to do some ass kissing, in which case, the order doesn’t fucking matter.”

Nathan sighed inwardly. Of course, he’d caught Isaac at a bad time. But then, maybe the possible wild-goose chase would raise his spirits. “Bad it is. Tian got away. But,” he added before Isaac interrupted him, “that’s not the bad part. Apparently, he’s armed with grenades now. And he’s not shy about using them.”

“Where the hell did he get grenades? I thought we cut Cesar off at the knees when we locked up the Vasquez brothers.”

“How should I know? You’re the detective, you tell me. But if you check out the warehouse on Center and 10th in Culver City, you’ll see the evidence for yourself.” Nathan slapped his palm against his knee. “I almost had him, Isaac. He was mine.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll get him next time. You’re not the best for nothing.” Though the words were meant to be reassuring, the tone was not. The creaking leather of Isaac’s chair came over the line as he got more comfortable. “What happened? Did you lose him because of the grenade?”

“No.” How to explain the next part without sounding like the crazy one in the story? “There was a girl. She, well, she came out of nowhere. At first, I thought she was an accomplice, but I didn’t recognize her name. In fact, that’s the favor.”

“You want me to tell you who she is?”

“And if she has a history of violence or psychotic behavior.” He held the card up to the light, narrowing his eyes thoughtfully. “The name on her identification, which is probably fake, is Remy Capra. Date of birth is March 15.” He paused, staring at the unexpected numbers. “I don’t know the year.”

He heard Isaac scribbling down the information. “Anything else you can give me? Age, stats, something actually helpful?”

Nathan searched his memory for any details he could recover from the strange night. “She claims she’s from D.C. Mid-twenties, perhaps. Brown hair, brown eyes, about five and a half feet. She’s the sort of girl you’d remember seeing.”

“Pretty, huh?” He was tapping away at his computer. Isaac was one of the few cops Nathan knew who didn’t have to hunt and peck. “Just give me a sec. If she’s with Tian, she’ll come through here pretty quick.”

“I don’t think she is. I hope she’s not.” He trusted his gut on this one. Despite the initial suspicion, it seemed her arrival was just a remarkable coincidence, not a conspiracy. “I think somebody is after her, but she wouldn’t give me any details, or let me take her to the hospital.”

Silence filled the line. Nathan patiently waited for the question he knew was coming.

“So…where is she now, Nathan?”

He hesitated a moment before answering. “On my couch.”

“Are you out of your mind?” The sudden switch in his friend’s tone had Nathan rubbing at his eyes, wishing he had avoided this entire line of questioning. “You’re not even sure if she’s not psychotic, and you’re putting her up on your couch? Since when did you start thinking with your dick instead of your brain?”

“If I were thinking with my dick, she wouldn’t be on my couch, now would she?” Nathan considered explaining his heroic and noble sacrifice, but decided that wouldn’t make Isaac feel better about the situation. “What was I supposed to do? Leave her bleeding in the warehouse?”

“Well, no.” He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry. It’s just been a hell of a day. I know you wouldn’t do anything so stupid if she was a real threat.” Chuckling, he added, “I mean, it’s not like you fucked her, right?”

“Right. Anything come up yet?”

“No, not yet. There are Capras in D.C., but none matching your girl’s description. Hang on. If she’s running, there might be something in missing persons.” More beeping from the computer. “Nope. That comes up clean, too. Huh. You sure on the name? If her ID’s fake, the name might be, too.”

“I can’t be sure about the name. Do me a favor and keep an eye out for anything matching her description.” Nathan paused for a moment before explaining, “Her ID looks all wrong, of course, but the year of birth was 2060. Shoddy work.”

“Probably some new game cooked up by the college kids. See how bad they can make their IDs before someone notices and they get busted. You wouldn’t believe some of the shit they’ve been trying to pull.” Isaac’s chair groaned under his weight again. “The only thing I can tell you for sure is she’s not part of Tian’s gang. Unless it’s a dye job and she’s not a brunette. He was banging this blonde named Josie a few months back. Think it could be her?”

Nathan snorted. “No, Josie is sucking cock for money in Tijuana.” Frustrated, he ran his fingers through his damp hair. “I’ll let you go. But I’ll be sure to keep you posted on any new developments with my mystery girl.”

“Thanks, but…your mystery girl? Just how pretty are we talking here?”

“She’s an eleven.”

Isaac whistled. “She would have to be. I don’t think I’ve seen you notice anybody with breasts since before we broke up Parker’s gang.”

Nathan winced. The mention, or thought, of Parker was enough to make bile rise in his throat. Shuffling over to the bathroom, he pulled the chalky antacid tablets from the medicine cabinet. “Yeah, it’s been awhile. Hopefully this one doesn’t plan to kill me.”

“Crazy never strikes twice in the same place,” Isaac assured. When he next spoke, his voice had grown contemplative. He was shifting out of cop mode and into his friend shoes. “You want me to come over and check her out? I’m going off-duty anyway, and if there’s one person’s judgment I trust more than yours, it’s mine. I could even get her set up someplace else if you want. Get her off your couch.”

He knew, based on the still-present ache in his groin, he should accept Isaac’s offer. But he also knew Remy would react poorly to the presence of a cop, even if he assured her Isaac wasn’t a threat. Nathan didn’t know why, but the thought of her panicking and fleeing was not an appealing one. “I appreciate it, but not tonight. Maybe if she’s still around tomorrow.”

“Well, offer’s there. And if something comes up on my end, I’ll let you know.” He paused. “Just be careful. Brains, not dick, okay?”

“Right. Thanks.” Nathan disconnected, returning to the bedroom to place the phone on the charger. “Brains, not dick. Easy as that. No problem.” Stretching out on the bed, he stared at the ceiling, considering the wisdom of the simple statement. It was the best advice he had ever heard.

He pushed the towel away, running his palm over his shaft before gripping it lightly. Brains, not dick. Right.

*   *   *

It felt like she’d been dragged tits first through an electric socket. Kirsten decided then and there the first thing she would do when she got back home was give her father a piece of her mind.
Easy, my ass.

The coin had, however, worked as he had claimed it would. Pushing up from the ground, Kirsten stretched the kinks out of her still-humming muscles, scanning her surroundings at the same time. The smell of rotting garbage coated the air, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust. A green-and-red sign glowed against a night sky lightened by the orange illumination of nearby lamps on tall poles. Heavy dumpsters overflowed in wait of garbage day. It was some type of uninviting store. Kirsten wondered why in hell Remy would want to go to it.