HeroRising (21 page)

“Thanks for the info, Miranda.”

“I hope everything works out for you, Ari.” Miranda patted her
on the arm. “I really do.”

For the rest of her shift her mind ran in circles until she
was ready to collapse with exhaustion. Whom should she believe? What should she
believe? Did she confront Bale about her suspicions or bury her head in the
sand until catastrophe struck?

And if he was this vigilante?

Ugh, that was what made her stomach roll the most. How does
one react to that type of information? Give a big thumbs-up with a “good for
you” and a slap on the back, or shout “What the fuck are you thinking?” Neither
option felt right.

As the clock drew closer to quitting time, Ari buried her
head further into her work. She missed Bale, but she wasn’t looking forward to
having to face him with all these doubts weighing on her shoulders. Maybe if
she worked herself into the ground she’d pass out and wake up in Bale’s arms
with the entire evening being nothing but an incredibly odd dream.

So she worked and worked and worked some more until a soft
knock on her office door brought her head up with a startled gasp.

Speak, or rather think, of the devil.

Bale was wearing his customary black sweatshirt and denim
jacket, which immediately brought to mind images of sword-carrying tough guys.
The thought did not lessen her anxiety in the slightest.

“Ari, what is wrong?” Bale crossed to her side and knelt by
her chair.

Like a feral cat backed into a corner, she lashed out with
bared claws. “Why is everyone asking me that today? Am I walking around with a
gray cloud over my head or something? Nothing is wrong.”

His eyes widened and he leaned back. “I’m sorry. I did not
mean to upset you with my question.”

“I’m fine, okay. Just fine.”

“Ari.” He pinched her chin and drew her gaze up. With his
other hand he rubbed at the furrowed area between her eyes. “I am sensing that
all is not well. If you do not wish to talk about whatever is bothering you, I
understand. I just want you happy.”

All the fight rushed out of her like water after a plug is
pulled from a full swimming pool.

This man, this gentle giant who stared down at her as if she
were a precious treasure was supposed to be a bad guy? The possibility was too
difficult for her to believe.

“I’m sorry too.” She sighed and laid her hand over his.
“It’s been a long day. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“You’re entitled to have a bad day,
liera
. My purpose
is to make your bad day go away.” His soft smile, so rare, made her tear up.

“Thank you for that.” She pressed a kiss to his freshly
shaven cheek.

He smoothed his palm over her hair. “I’ve come to see if
you’re ready to go home. I don’t want you traveling at night on your own.”

“What about your bike?”

“I walked here.”

“Are you planning on meeting me at work every day?” She
smiled.

“Ya.”

Yes. That was all. No hesitation. So Bale.

“I’m almost ready. I need to do another sweep of the bar and
make sure everything is square.” She shut down her computer. “Why don’t you
wait here?”

“I promise I will not threaten any man who looks your way,
if that is your concern.”

“I believe you. Almost.” She dropped another kiss on his
forehead as she stood. “For my sanity, please, wait here.”

“Fifteen minutes. That is all I can give you.”

“Twenty, and the only reason I am willing to negotiate is
because I understand you are trying.”

“Agreed.”

“See, look how well we worked that out.” She laughed on her
way out the door.

Knowing that Bale meant what he said about coming after her
in exactly twenty minutes and one second, she kept her final walkthrough quick
and efficient.

Sooner rather than later she was going to have to address
him with her questions. How many warning signs had there been with Anthony that
she refused to acknowledge and it came back to bite a huge chunk out of her
ass? As much as she wished to bury her head in the comforting sand, that option
was not a possibility. The uncertainty alone was already turning her into a
mentally unstable fruitcake. At some point she was going to break and the
damage would be unrepairable.

When she returned to her office, Bale was waiting with her
coat and purse at the ready. Lying in the bottom of her bag was the knife he
had given her when they first met. That lethal-looking blade with the pretty
stones. Was this another piece of evidence to prove her suspicions?

“Anxious much?” She swallowed down her nerves and slipped
her arms into the coat sleeves. “Do you have plans for us or something?”

He trailed kisses down her neck. “Just to hold you in my
arms. The weather is turning and it’s cold out there.”

“Maybe you should start dressing warmer.”
And thank you
for providing an opening for some probing questions.
“Is that the only
jacket you have?”

“Ya.”

“Well…have you thought about getting a heavier coat?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “This one suits my purpose.”

And what purpose was that? “You know, I don’t think I’ve
ever seen you in anything but a black shirt and jeans. Do you own any item of
clothing in a color other than black?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I like black.”

“Oh.” Great. Okay, so just because he had a penchant for
dark clothes that did not mean he was the Claymore. “Let’s go.”

Bale followed her through the kitchen to the parking lot
behind the restaurant. The back-of-the-house staff quieted and gave them a wide
berth as they passed.

“It seems you have gotten quite the reputation around here,”
she said.

A soft grunt was his reply.

Outside heavy rainclouds darkened the night sky to an inky
black that seemed to suck all light into its depths. Rain fell in big, fat
droplets that hit the ground so hard, they popped back up to soak you again. It
was a mad dash to her car to avoid becoming drenched.

“And you walked in this?” She wiped at her forehead with her
coat sleeve once she settled into the driver’s seat. “Bale, you really don’t
have to put yourself out like that.”

“Seeing to your safety is not putting myself out. I do it
with pleasure. If it makes you feel better, the rain wasn’t that bad earlier
this evening.” He chuckled. “You’re a Northwesterner now. You better start
getting used to the rain.”

She wrinkled her nose. “It does beat tornados.”

“I saw one once, a tornado, several months ago when I was
traveling through Nebraska. Where I am from, we have tremendous windstorms, but
nothing even close to resembling that cyclone. It was a stark reminder of just
how fragile humans are and their resiliency to survive.”

“Well, there’s not a whole lot that can withstand a good F4
or F5 tornado. Did you get caught up in it at all?”

“I rolled up behind it and was witness to the aftermath.
Fortunately the injuries were minor and only a few homes sustained damage…” He
trailed off and when she glanced his way, he was staring out the windshield
with a faraway look in his eyes.

“Was it bad?” she whispered, unsure if her question could be
heard over the sound of the wipers and rain, but she was afraid to raise her
voice any louder.

He blinked and looked in her direction. “The situation could
have been worse.”

“You were there again, weren’t you? Just now.”

He nodded. “There was a child. A female with long dark hair.
She was trapped inside her home on one side and her parents were trapped on the
other. I could not see her, but I could hear her breathing, feel her. She
didn’t make a sound even though she was conscious the entire time. She just
waited patiently to be rescued as I dug through the rubble. So much courage in
a tiny body. She amazed me.”

“She was lucky you were there to save her.”

He said nothing, and as her words hung in the air, she felt
the truth strike her in the heart that Bale was the Claymore. He saved that
little girl, just like he saved her from those two creeps. And if the news
stories were true, he saved others as well.

Again came the question of why, and what was she supposed to
do with this information, not to mention the biggest question of all, was he
ever going to trust her with this secret?

As she pulled into the parking garage under The Cavern, her
hands shook as she turned off the ignition and climbed out of the car. A
confrontation was brewing. It was inevitable. And she had no idea how to
proceed.

Bale was at her side, trapping her against the door with his
strong arms. “You were very quiet on the way home.”

“So were you.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“True.” She chuckled, but her smile faded quickly.

Their breathing was loud in the silent garage as they stood
looking into each other’s eyes. Uncertainty flashed behind his dark irises and
crinkled his brow, as if he picked up on her nervousness. He probably could for
all she knew. She was never very good at hiding her emotions.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he leaned closer, as if expecting
her to bolt or push him away. Both completely sound ideas. Until she heard him
confirm that he was the Claymore, it was prudent to keep some sort of distance
between them. But the emotion in his gaze unknotted the tie around her
convictions. Whatever Bale couldn’t say was in those dark eyes, and it took her
breath away.

She felt like a young schoolgirl caught under the mistletoe
for the first time as she waited for his kiss with her heart ready to beat out
of her chest.

The first brush of his lips was butterfly soft. The second
pass, a firm press that allowed her to detect the slightest hint of chocolate
on his breath. Her eyes fluttered shut as she melted in his embrace, enjoying
this moment of closeness before all hell broke loose. Who knew what the next
five, ten, thirty minutes might bring, and it killed her to think of never
experiencing his touch again if he became angry enough to leave. But there was
no way she could carry on without voicing her suspicions.

Through his rain-dampened clothing she felt the flex of his
pectoral muscles under her palms as he wrapped his arms around her waist. She
smoothed the fabric over his shoulder then reached up to trail her fingers
through his silky hair.

“Sweet Ariel,” he sighed against her mouth then trailed
kisses across her cheek. “Why do I sense so much turmoil within you?”

“Because I’m a complex woman.” Her grip tightened on his
hair, hesitant to part from him for even a second. Reluctantly she let go and
took him by the hand. “Can you come up to my place for a minute?”

“A minute? I was planning on staying most of the night.”

Most
of the night? What else did he have planned for
the evening? Walk the streets and look for criminals?

The ride up in the elevator was silent, as was the walk down
the hall.

“So,” she began as she led them into her apartment, making
sure she kept him in her view. “I overheard some customers talking today about
that superhero with the big sword.”

Bale froze. It was a tiny pause so slight she would have
missed it if she hadn’t been focused on every aspect of his body language.
Although he raised a half-interested eyebrow, she swore she felt his heart kick
in his chest.

“Have you heard or read any of the stories?” she asked when
he remained silent.

“I might have heard something. I don’t pay much interest to
local gossip.”

She shrugged and went to hang up her coat in the closet,
trying to play it cool. “Well, it makes a person think, you know? What’s their
motivation? If they wanted to stop crime, why not become a cop?”

“Those are interesting questions.” He stepped closer and
pulled her against his body, his head lowering for a kiss.

“Bale.” She drew far enough away to look him in the eye.
“What would make
you
do something like that?”

His eyes narrowed, the black slits of his irises glittered
with danger. “I don’t understand.”

“I think you do.”

“What are you saying, Ari?”

“I’ve seen the pictures, Bale.” She drew a breath. “I know
you’re the Claymore.”

“Pictures? What pictures?”

“The ones that are online. The ones that show a man with a
sweatshirt and a jacket that looks just like yours. The ones that show a man
who looks exactly the way you did the day you stopped those men from jumping
me.”

His fingers dug into the sides of her waist and his eyes
opened wide in disbelief. “Where did you see these photos?”

“I told you, online,” she stammered. For the first time she feared
his size as he backed her against the wall.

“Where online? Why? What were you looking for?” The
rapid-fire questions made her flinch with their intensity.

“I don’t know where. There was a man at work who showed me
them on his phone.”

“What man?”

“A man. A customer. He asked if I had read the stories.”

“Why? Why would he ask
you
this?” he shouted. “What
exactly did he say to you?”

“He—” She choked on a cough as her throat constricted. “He
asked me if I’d heard the stories or if I’d seen anyone who looked like the
man.”

“What did you say?”

“I said I work in a bar and see all sorts of people.”

“And that’s all?”

“Yes. Now let me go. Please.”

He gasped and let her go as if she had burst into flame and
burned his hands. “I am sorry, Ariel. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” He
scrubbed at his face. “I need you to tell me who this man was. What did he look
like? Did he give his name?”

“Marco. He said his name was Marco. Oh my goodness. Is he a
bad guy?” The thought never occurred to her that Bale may have a nemesis. Maybe
the customer at the bar was a villain the Claymore had been hunting. “Do you
have enemies?”