Lori Foster - Dash of Peril

They all scowled over that. “Men don’t fuss,” Dash told her.

“Apparently they do—when they mean well. And yes,” she said quickly, cutting off Dash’s automatic objection, “I do understand that a weekend away might be smart. If for no other reason than just to regroup. But only for a weekend. If Logan and Reese can’t make real headway by then, I’ll be taking over.”

“We’ll be on it,” Logan told her. “We’ve got plenty to work with now.”

“Discreetly seeing what the senior Peterson has been up to, looking into the customized rims, interrogating the swine who broke in here.” Reese rubbed his hands together. “Three days, counting today. I think we should have some answers by then.”

Rowdy agreed. “Someone is going to know the guy who broke in. That’s bound to be a lead of some sort. And by now it’s all over the street that the department has evidence from the garage fire. Something will turn up.”

Rather than be reassured, Margo looked unhappy to be missing all the police work. “I want to be kept apprised of every single detail. I want to be updated at least twice a day. I want—”

“To run us like puppets, yeah, we get it.” Logan clasped her shoulder. “You know damn good and well we can handle this, so stop micromanaging.”

“But she does it so well,” Reese said.

To forestall any fireworks, Dash smoothed down her unruly curls. “We’ve only got about twenty minutes before we have to leave.” He kissed her forehead. “Are you hungry? Want me to fix you something while you get dressed?”

To his surprise, she leaned into him, her uninjured arm sliding up his chest as she...cuddled. “I’m not hungry, but thanks.”

It took Dash a second, and then his arms went around her, keeping her close. Such a paradox. Near her ear, he whispered, “You’re okay?”

“Yes.” She rested there only a moment, and then with a sigh, she stepped away. “I can be ready in ten.”

Knowing the turn of events wore on her, Dash watched her leave the room. She went into her bedroom to get clothes, then back into the hall bathroom. When he heard the door close, he turned, expecting his brother and Reese to once again act ridiculous.

Logan surprised him by smiling. “I think I’m getting used to seeing her like that.”

“Easygoing,” Reese said, agreeing. “I wouldn’t have believed it, since she’s usually hard as nails, but it suits her.”

Unaccountably pleased, Dash nodded. “It suits her when she’s with me.”

“None of you should forget—” Rowdy went to sit by the dozing cat “—she’s still an alpha female when necessary.”

“Like your sister,” Logan pointed out. “But I imagine Margaret will balance it as well as Pepper does.”

“It occurs to me,” Reese said to Dash, “that you’re a lot like Logan.”

Knowing where he was going with his comment, Logan said, “And you?”

Reese nodded. “You wouldn’t be content with some sweet little bit of fluff no matter how cute or sexy she might be.”

Rowdy looked up. “Luckily for him, Margo is all of the above.”

It still nettled Dash to hear Rowdy speak so familiarly of Margo, and that got the others grinning. At least until the knock sounded on the door. They all looked up with menace. Oh, it would just be too perfect if that was her father, showing up to see the damage he’d caused.

Dash strode forward, followed closely by Logan. He looked out the peephole, but didn’t recognize the man there.

When he swung the door open, Logan said with a note of surprise, “Commander.” He stepped back to allow him entrance. “We weren’t expecting you.”

Dan Ford, tall and fit, with silver hair and dark eyes, stepped in as if he owned the place. He scowled at the small crowd, sniffed the air with suspicion and narrowed his eyes. “Where the hell is Margaret?”

FROM THE ROOF of a building a block away, flat on his belly, Toby surveyed the building where the girl and her grandpa lived. He had the side view, so he could see the front, back and south side of the aged redbrick building.

He didn’t doubt that someone watched the front, where a security light lit the big wooden door. But around back, a narrow basement window left enough shadows to make entry accessible. There were no neighbors back there—just a noise-reduction wall that separated the old houses from the newer expressway. Tall trees grew up and around an old separate garage that looked ready to crumble.

That low-to-the-ground window didn’t look real secure. And it was small, so it’d be a tight fit—but it’d probably work. Later, he’d check it out. Or maybe pay someone else to do that, just in case.

He wouldn’t get locked up for Curtis, the crazy bastard. Sure, he enjoyed the pay, and the fucking wasn’t bad, either. He grinned at his own humor.

Unlike Saul, he wasn’t desperate to get laid. He could get some tail whenever he wanted. But there was something special about the depravity of what the brothers had set up, the thrill of the taboo. Nothing was sexier than a woman who fought hard—and lost anyway. Taking her against her will, recording all her mewling sounds, her desperation and eventual defeat...it made a man feel like a man.

Curtis liked to share his little creations with other rich assholes who craved the real deal instead of the absurd porn supplied by lousy actors.

They liked to see it, but were afraid of doing it themselves. The cowardly pricks.

Toby wasn’t afraid of doing it, but he didn’t want to get busted for it. And why should he? Moving to another area would be a piece of cake. Why fuck with problems when they didn’t need to?

But Curtis... He could be blinded by determination. He often saw insults where none existed. Because of his wealth, he was spoiled, powerful enough that he felt authorized to do just as he pleased and to hell with the consequences.

At times, he was so violent that Toby knew he wasn’t entirely sane. Left to his own devices, Curtis would get busted and they’d all go down.

But Toby planned to continue enjoying the game, so somehow he had to keep everyone protected. After meeting the little ponytail at the pawnshop, well, he wanted her. He wanted to tie her down and take his time, he wanted to hear her cry, feel her struggle, and he wanted it all recorded.

So he could enjoy watching it again and again.

Curtis and Saul could rape the crazy-ass cop if they wanted. Toby just wanted to kill her. Quick and clean.

Goddamn Curtis and his stupid, risky schemes.

For now, Toby had no choice but to do it Curtis’s way. But someday soon Curtis was going to push him too far. Unlike Saul, he wouldn’t just take the abuse and beg for more.

No, if it became necessary, he’d kill Curtis with his bare hands.

Sometimes he actually looked forward to it.

WHEN SHE HEARD the raised voices, Margo finished tousling her damp hair and hurried from the bathroom. She’d quickly bathed and dressed as best she could in simple clothes that worked with her splint. So far, the shirt Dash had altered for her was the easiest. She paired it with slim jeans and ankle boots. A little mascara, a little highlighter and she’d considered herself prepped enough for the day.

Until she’d heard the arguing.

She was still adjusting her sling when she rounded the corner and saw...“Dan.” Collecting herself, putting on her game face, she narrowed her eyes a tiny bit and gave a tight smile. “What are you doing here?”

He stepped around Dash and Logan. “I heard what happened, so naturally I came to check on you.” His attention went all over her. “Jesus, Margaret.”

She touched the lingering bruise on her cheek, but her hair covered the stitches on her forehead. The sling, well... “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks... Well, thank God you’re okay.”

Reese rested against the wall, a look of bored contempt on his face. “I made that call for you, Lieutenant. You’re all set.”

“Thank you.”

As always, Logan remained professional, but she recognized the brimming anger in his bearing. What had happened?

“Why are you here, Dan?”

Encompassing everyone in his discontent, Dan cast a quelling glance around the room. “When you didn’t return my call, I got concerned.”

Dash stationed himself beside her. It was mean, and a little childish, but to annoy Dan she smiled up at Dash in a lover’s welcome, then leaned on his hard shoulder. “Well, as you can see, I’m in good hands.”

Dan took that on the chin. His jaw flexed and his lip curled. “Yes, well, I need to speak with you.”

She took great pleasure in saying, “Oh, but I’m running late for my doctor’s appointment.” Narrowed eyes took any goodwill from her smile. “I get the splint off today.”

“That’s actually what I want to talk to you about.”

For about five seconds she gave it thought, then turned to Dash. “Why don’t you go finish dressing so we can leave? I don’t want to be late.”

To her relief, he didn’t argue. “Be right back.”

Next—tackling her detectives. “Well.” She faced each of them, but knowing Logan would be the most difficult, she focused on him. “I appreciate it that you came by. Thank you for everything.”

“They were doing their damned jobs,” Dan barked.

“Yes,” Margo agreed, anxious to know what had Dan so surly. Usually he took great pride in professional decorum. “That, and more.”

He straightened, taking an imposing stance. To her surprise, he volunteered the info. “I demanded to see you when I arrived, and they refused to get you.”

Demanded? She glanced at Logan in question.