Dirty For Me (Motor City Royals) (6 page)

“Am I?”

“Uh-huh. Not thinking about that chick you took home last night?”

A flash of unexpected and very unwelcome heat went through him at the mention of Tamara.

That was the other great thing about the fight: He hadn’t thought of her once since.

Damn Zoe.

“Her? She turned up at the class with a friend.” He shifted in his seat, earning him another stern look. “Her friend went off to that new club, Anonymous, and she didn’t want to go. So I offered her a ride.”

Zoe pulled tight a stitch, then leaned in for another, the needle sliding under his skin. Fuck, he felt that one. “Generous of you.”

“Yeah, well, girls like her don’t normally turn up for those classes. And she was dressed up in all that designer shit. Couldn’t leave her waiting around on the curb for a taxi. She’d have been eaten alive.”

Zoe nodded. Both of them knew the truth of that. Royal Road might be among Detroit’s up-and-coming neighborhoods, but it wasn’t there yet. It could get dangerous at night, especially if you weren’t a local or didn’t know what you were doing.

The clang of the downstairs door echoed through the garage and Zee didn’t miss the sudden, bright flash that crossed Zoe’s face as she tied off the last stitch.

Gideon was clearly back.

Zee didn’t know quite what was going on with those two, but it was majorly obvious to everyone that Zoe had a giant crush on Gideon. Kind of wrong when he was her foster brother. Then again, it wasn’t any wonder. Zee didn’t know their background—Gideon never spoke of it and Zee never asked—but apparently Zoe had been fostered into the same family as Gideon. She was quite a bit younger than him and when he’d aged out of the system they’d stayed in touch. Then something had happened and Zoe had run away and Gideon had somehow rescued her, which, if you knew Gideon, was pretty much par for the course since the guy had a white knight complex a mile wide. Whatever had happened, the result was a bad case of hero worship on Zoe’s part that Gideon was completely blind to.

It was kind of cute.

Zee met her gaze and watched the color rise under her smooth, light brown skin. She turned away sharply, fiddling with the medical kit she’d gotten out to stitch Zee up with.

Yeah, she had it bad all right. Damn shame, especially when Zee was pretty certain Gideon would never, ever see her as a woman. Hell, Gideon didn’t much like it when
other
people saw her as a woman.

Footsteps came up the stairs, the door opening to admit the guy himself.

“Christ,” he said, taking one look at Zee’s face. “Good fight then?”

“I won, so yeah.” There was another office chair on casters nearby. With a lazy movement of his foot, Zee sent it rolling across the floor to the other man.

Zoe finished packing away the medical kit, turning as Gideon grabbed the chair and sat down. Her arms were folded across her chest, a crease between her brows. “So? Is it true?”

Zee raised the non-stitched eyebrow in Gideon’s direction.

“Levi.” Gideon blew out a breath. “Just been visiting him.”

Levi was the fourth member of the little makeshift family Gideon had drawn together ten years ago, back when they’d all been lonely, unwanted teens at the Royal Road teen drop-in center.

He was currently in jail, doing time for manslaughter.

They tried not to mention Levi when Rachel was around, since the whole reason Levi was doing time was because of a mistake she’d made eight years ago, when she’d been young and stupid. Levi had protected her from an assault and in the process had accidentally killed the guy who’d been assaulting her.

He’d been away for eight years, but since he’d been a model prisoner his lawyer had managed to get his sentence reduced. It looked like he was going to be getting out pretty soon.

“And?” Zoe prompted. “What did he say, Gideon?”

The other man leaned back, pushing a hand through his shaggy black hair. Then he grinned. “So impatient, little one.”

“Oh come on!”

“Okay, okay. Yes, he’s getting out. Another month tops.”

The beginnings of a hopeful smile turned Zoe’s mouth. “Seriously? That’s it? Another month?”

“Yeah. I told him he could stay with me while he gets himself back on his feet.”

Zee could feel his own grin happening. They’d all been gutted when the shit had gone down with Rachel, and Gideon had done his damnedest to help Levi. He’d gotten him the best lawyer he could find on legal aid, but of course, there was no escaping the fact that Levi had killed a guy.

The incident had struck close to home for Zee and, at the time, he’d debated about whether or not just to leave Royal Road altogether. It had felt too much like what he’d just escaped from, the seedy, violent world of big-time crime that his father had ruled with an iron fist. And it wasn’t what Madison had wanted for him. She’d told him he was better than merely being Joshua Chase’s son, heir to violence and murder. She’d told him he was a good man, that he should want more for himself.

And he’d believed her. He had to, because, fuck, her death had to mean something.

In the end though, despite what had happened with Levi, Zee had decided to stay in Royal. Gideon had taken him in, given him a job, given him a new start and he couldn’t just up and leave. No, none of them knew what Zee had left behind, that Ezekiel wasn’t even his real name, but he couldn’t leave without explanation. Not only did he owe Madison, he owed Gideon, too.

So he’d stayed and now, here he was, eight years later, and he had the kind of life that at last he could be proud of. That Madison would have been proud of. He had a job, his own place—hell, he had his own fucking building. He kept the darkness inside him nicely controlled. He was giving back to the community and he had big plans for the future, plans that included expanding his gym, getting that teen program up and running, training and teaching kids. Hiring more staff. Getting a proper business going.

Royal Road need more shit like that. There were already lots of revitalization projects happening, projects that were injecting new life and hope into a neighborhood that had suffered a lot when the auto industry had gone bust. Things were starting to get good here and as far as Zee was concerned, they were going to stay good.

Now that Levi was coming home, things would be even better.

Except, of course, that at some point he was going to have to tell Gideon he was quitting the garage. Which he wasn’t looking forward to. But shit, he couldn’t stay at Black’s, not when he wanted to concentrate on his plans for the gym.

“How was he?” Zee asked.

“Seemed okay. Looking forward to getting out.” Gideon gave Zee a narrow glance. “You get that pretty little thing you gave a ride to last night home safely?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Good.” Gideon’s gaze was vaguely assessing. “What the hell was she doing hanging around your classes anyway?”

“Like I said, she was with a friend of hers.”

“Bit fucking strange to come down this end of town just to hang around and watch.”

And just like that, Zee’s good mood began to dissipate. Christ, and he thought he was the paranoid one. “It’s no big deal. I get all sorts at the classes.”

“Don’t normally take them home though.” The other man’s dark eyes narrowed, his big body going still in his chair.

Zee stared at him. “Is there a problem, Gideon?”

Zoe snorted. “And here I thought we were going to be talking about how great it was that Levi will be home soon.”

Gideon glanced at her, and there was a moment’s heavy silence. Then he sighed and the strange tension faded. “There’s no problem.” He leaned forward in his chair, his hands between his knees. “Truth is, I’m worried about Levi. I don’t think he is okay.”

“Like how?” The worried crease was back between Zoe’s brows.

Slowly, Gideon shook his head. “He doesn’t smile like he used to, doesn’t laugh. He’s changed. And I get the impression that he’s pretty fucking angry.”

“Not surprised,” Zee said. “Eight years of time will do that to you.” He’d seen the ex-cons his father had used for various jobs, knew the kind of anger that seemed to radiate off them. They were mean motherfuckers and they hadn’t gotten that way because jail was an easy way out.

“He’s gonna need help.” Gideon paused and looked at both of them. “And I’m gonna have to tell Rachel.”

No one knew exactly what had happened between Levi and Rachel the night she’d been attacked, but what they did know was that it had changed her. She’d always been a firecracker, but over the years she’d gotten harder, pricklier. Defensive. Not an easy person to be with in many ways and how she was going to take this news was anyone’s guess.

One thing was clear to all of them though—Rachel blamed herself for Levi’s jail time. And she was pissed about it.

“That’s gonna be hell,” Zee muttered.

“Yeah, I know. But she’ll have to find out at some point and probably the earlier the better.”

“True.” He gave Gideon a look. “I suppose now is a shitty time to hand in my notice?”

Zoe blinked. “What the hell, Zee?”

Gideon just stared back, the beginning of a smile curling his mouth. “I’ve been wondering when this was coming.”

Zee scowled. Jesus, don’t say all his worrying about Gideon’s reaction was all for nothing? “What do you mean you’ve ‘been wondering’?”

“Well, you’ve gotten that gym up and running, and you told me you’ve been talking with the outreach center. I know your heart isn’t in the garage. Shit, it never really was.”

That was true. Though he liked fixing cars, liked putting pieces together and making them go, or analyzing a mechanical problem and finding a solution, it wasn’t really what he wanted. Fixing cars was one thing, but fixing broken people, broken communities was better.

It was what Madison would have wanted him to do.

“You don’t look very unhappy about it,” Zee commented, lacing his fingers together and leaning back in his chair.

“I’m not. In fact, it’s perfect timing.”

“What do you mean perfect timing?”

Zoe was grinning. “I see where you’re going with this.”

“Uh-huh.” Gideon smiled. “Poor Levi’s gonna need a job. Do you think you could stay until then?”

T
amara smoothed the white linen napkin over her knees and tried once more to see if she could read the expression on her father’s face.

He’d descended from his top floor CEO’s office to take her out to dinner right at five
P.M.
, waving off her protestations that she had to work late. Scott had been very magnanimous despite spending the whole week keeping her under his thumb, granting her the evening off with much bonhomie and obvious sucking up, though of course this was going to come back to bite her. Scott’s eyes had been cold as he’d told her that naturally she could go have dinner with her father and she knew he was viewing this as favoritism.

She’d tried to have a conversation once with her father about Scott, but he’d waved it off, telling her that she’d always come up against bosses she found difficult and she’d just have to find a way to work with it.

John Lennox always hated complaints so she’d shut up after that. Because, after all, he wasn’t wrong. Showing him she could handle it was the better way to deal with it anyway.

She studied him now as they sat in one of Detroit’s newest restaurants and the source of much buzz, but the expression on his slightly hawkish face was impenetrable. He’d long perfected the art of showing only what he wanted other people to see, so why she was even bothering to figure out what this dinner was about she didn’t know. And it
was
about something, that was for sure.

Her father always made a big production about everything when he wanted to talk.

“So, Dad,” Tamara said after the waiter had taken their order and filled up their wineglasses. “Was there something in particular you wanted to see me about?”

He picked up his wineglass and leaned back in his chair, a smile hovering around his mouth. His dark eyes were full of what could only be termed satisfaction and he looked exceptionally pleased with himself. “I just wanted you to know, Tamara, how happy your mother and I are with you at the moment.”

She should have felt glad about that, because her dad didn’t often hand out praise, so when he did, it meant a lot. But for some reason it wasn’t pleasure that sat in her gut but apprehension.

“Well, thanks. You know I appreciate all you and Mom have done for me.” She smoothed her napkin again, because they were edging into dangerous territory. “I want to make you proud.”

He nodded. “Of course and you have. Very proud indeed. In fact, I hope to hear good news at the end of the month from Scott.”

She ignored the apprehension that wound deeper. “That’s the plan.”

“Good.” He took a sip of wine, studying her. “And I suppose that brings me to the point of this dinner.” Another pause. “Your future is looking very bright, Tamara, and your mother and I just want to be sure you’re heading in the right direction.”

Carefully she reached out for her own glass and held it, trying to still the shake of her hand. There was no reason to be nervous about this and she couldn’t think why she was. “Oh? That sounds ominous.” She tried a smile to help lighten her mood.

Her father smiled back. “Of course it’s not ominous. I meant what I said—we’re very proud of you. It’s only that the next step will be an important one for you and one that’s going to ensure your success.” He took another sip from his glass. “So we want to make sure that the next step is the right one.”

The apprehension in her gut churned. “And what’s the right step?”

Her dad leaned forward, putting his glass on the table and clasping his hands together. “You and Robert are pretty serious, aren’t you?”

She blinked at the question, not expecting it. “I . . . suppose we are. What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, you’re getting your career set up nicely, but that’s not the only part of your life you need to consider.” He gave a small self-conscious laugh. “Boy, I really wanted your mom to broach this with you.”

Tamara’s grip on her wineglass tightened. “Broach what?”

“Okay, well, your mom and I wondered if you and Robert have thought about tying the knot.”

She stared at him. Marriage? Was he serious? “Uh, no. Robert and I haven’t . . . I mean . . . we’re not at that stage yet.”

Her father’s smile didn’t change. “We think you should consider it. We like him, he comes from a great family, and he’s got a great future ahead of him too. Your mom and I think you and he would make a great team.”

Trying to mask her shock, Tamara took a swallow of wine. But it only sat in her stomach acidly, making her feel a bit sick. She put the glass down again, her hands returning to the napkin spread over her lap. “That’s . . . uh . . . good you think that, obviously. But . . . I’m not sure I’m ready for that step yet.”

“You’re twenty-three, Tamara, and you’ve got yourself a great career path. This is the next logical move, don’t you think?”

No. She didn’t think that. Or at least, marriage hadn’t been something she’d been considering.

She looked back down at the snowy white folds of the napkin. “It might be for me. But I’m not sure Robert is ready for it.”

There was a heavy pause.

She glanced back up.

Her father was looking at her with some embarrassment. “Actually,” he said, “I’ve already discussed this with Robert and he’s very happy with the idea.”

The shock inside her twisted again, threaded through this time with anger. “What do you mean ‘already’? Don’t you think I should be the first one to speak to about this?”

Her father lifted his hands in a calming motion. “Okay, okay, settle down. Yes, I know, I should have talked to you first. But we needed to make sure Robert was on board.”

“This is not a takeover meeting, Dad. This isn’t business. This is marriage we’re talking about.”

His smile began to fade, the look in his eyes becoming harder, sharper, the way it always did when she caused a fuss about anything. “You know, don’t you, what your mother and I have sacrificed to give you the future you have?”

Tamara shut her mouth, biting down on the hot flow of words that threatened to spill out. Her father hated overemotional responses and, God knew, she wouldn’t make anything easier if she got angry with him. But that didn’t stop the sudden spike of fury that licked up inside her.

A low blow, that reminder. Because of course she knew what they’d sacrificed for her. All the money that had been thrown around and the lies told to cover up what she’d done. To pretend that nothing had happened.

Yet even though they never talked about it, never discussed it, they still knew. Normally she didn’t think about the unspoken weight of that knowledge. But now she felt it like a building falling down on top of her.

“I know,” she said tightly. “I remember, Dad. Believe me, I remember.”

The pressure of his gaze didn’t lessen. “All we want is what’s best for you, Tamara. That’s all we ever wanted.”

No, that’s not what they want. They want you to pay.
That’s
all they ever wanted.

Tamara ignored the thought, buried it right down deep so it would never surface again. “I understand. And I know you do.”

“We love you, Tamara. Never forget that.”

Of course they did. They told her that constantly ever since Will died.

She looked away again, reaching for her glass and this time taking a much larger swallow than before, hoping to drown the sick feeling inside her. “I know, Dad. I know.”

There was another heavy silence.

“So,” her father said eventually, his expression softening again. “What do you think? Your mom’s gone a little crazy and organized something. I told her not to, but you know how she gets when she’s excited.”

The wine sat uneasily in her stomach, the apprehension deepening into something cold and sharp. “What’s she organized?” It seemed the least problematic question to ask.

“A small party.” Her father gave a rueful shake of his head. “I promised not to tell you.”

Oh shit.

“Not to tell me what?”

God help her, there was actually a twinkle in her father’s eye, like he thought this was great news.

“Awww.” Helaughed. “And now I have to tell you. Your mother planned a little surprise engagement party for you and Robert. So you’re going to have to pretend I didn’t tell you, okay?”

Tamara blinked. She felt like a trapeze artist who’d just missed a vital catch and was now falling and falling into the net below. Except, there was no net. And she couldn’t understand how she’d missed the catch.

“But . . . Robert hasn’t mentioned a word about this yet.”

Her father’s smile turned smug. “Oh, he will, don’t worry about that. We’ve got it all arranged. He’s going ask you at the party. So just remember to look surprised.”

Tamara opened her mouth. Then closed it.

Her parents were doing what was best for her and perhaps she needed to trust that. After all, hadn’t she known that perhaps this had been their aim the day they’d introduced her to Robert in the first place? They’d encouraged her to date him from the get-go, had made loud noises about how perfect he was for her, and she’d happily agreed with them. Just like she’d agreed with everything they’d told her.

No, she couldn’t think that. She couldn’t ever think that. She had to believe this was the right thing to do. She had to trust her parent’s judgment. After all, her choices were suspect and only people who hadn’t taken a life got to make decisions like this.

Anyway, she had to remember: her career and Robert. Those were her moving-on strategies and this was exactly what her father had told her, another step on the path of putting the past behind her.

She pulled it together for the rest of the meal, ignoring the doubt that sat inside her. The terrible unease that wouldn’t go away. Her father didn’t seem to pick up on it, thank God, and luckily he didn’t seem to want to make it a late night.

He dropped her back at her apartment after a couple of hours and once she got inside, she stood there staring at nothing for a long time. At the lovely whitewashed brick and the exposed wooden beams, the polished wooden floors. The furniture she’d chosen on a shopping trip with her mother: an elegant, pale gray sofa with a few splashes of color in the shape of deep blue pillows. The distressed-look coffee table and the neatly piled magazines on top. The bookshelves with her beautifully arranged knickknacks and books. The deep blue rug on the floor that her mother had spent a lot of money on because Tamara was “worth it.”

A beautiful, expensive, perfect apartment. Like a movie set waiting for the actors to appear.

Waiting for her. Because she was the actor, wasn’t she? Moving through her own life, saying the words, playing the part of the good, dutiful daughter. While she knew that deep inside, it wasn’t really her. That none of this was really her.

She swallowed, looking around at her apartment that felt suddenly unfamiliar. As if she’d wandered accidentally into someone else’s home. It was disturbing, frightening.

When was the last time she hadn’t had to play the part for her parents or her boss? Or had she lost herself the day she’d picked up the gun and aimed it at her brother?

God, when was the last time she’d actually been herself?

Tamara closed her eyes. Oh yes, she knew. That night a week ago in Zee’s car.

She hadn’t been anyone’s good girl then. She hadn’t had to please anyone, impress anyone. She hadn’t had to hide or pretend. All she’d had to do was let herself go. And in that moment she’d been more herself than at any other time in the past eight years.

The sharp, insistent ring of her phone sounded, breaking into her thoughts.

She crossed to the couch where she’d dumped her purse and pulled her phone out of it, checking the caller ID.
Wonderful
. It was Robert.

“Okay, so John just told me he’d accidentally let the cat out of the bag,” Robert said almost as soon as she’d hit the accept button.

Tamara took a breath, remembering the whole awful conversation at dinner. “No,” she replied after a moment. “I don’t think there was anything accidental about it at all. I think he was giving me a heads-up.” Not to mention a reminder of her place in the world.

“In case you were going to say no?” His smooth voice was amused, as if that was the last thing she would say.

She gripped the phone tight, suddenly furious. “And what if I did?”

There was a silence.

“Okay.” The amusement disappeared. “I’m sorry. I should have said something when you were up this way last time, but I wanted to surprise you. So you have every right to be angry with me.”

So he thought she was angry because they hadn’t discussed it.

No, it felt more than that. As if once again she was being forced into a role she didn’t want and one she had no choice but to play.

“I’m not angry,” she lied, trying to get herself back under control. “I’m just . . . surprised. I didn’t realize how serious you were.”

“Yeah, I know.” He sounded so damn understanding she wanted to spit. “But things change. John and I had a talk last time he was here on business and what he said made a lot of sense. You and I getting married, I mean.”

Tamara raised a hand and rubbed between her eyebrows. Of course. This would be good for Robert’s career, marrying into one of Michigan’s richest families, and the New York connection would be great for her father. No wonder both of them were so keen on the match. And naturally enough it was assumed that was what she wanted as well.

The unease that had been sitting inside her all evening twisted again. Her father was right. This
was
the next logical step and it
did
make sense.