She pulled away from him. "That is so cold and sexist and unfair! Just because she wears spike heels? You are such a—"
"Don't." He lifted his hands in surrender, grinning. "Sorry. You're right. That was an awful thing to say. Subject change, please. Do you want to go straight over to your mom's house?"
"As soon as I feed Edna." She pulled a can of cat food out of the cupboard. "But you going with me is not the most brilliant idea."
"Erin," he said, in a warning tone. "For God's sake, don't start."
She scooped the goopy stuff into Edna's bowl and started pulling the various dropper bottles, pills, and powders out of Edna's medicine bag. "I would really rather break this to her gently. You thought Nick's reaction was bad? It'll be nothing in comparison to Mom's."
He shrugged. "I'm not going to leave you alone just because I'm afraid of your mother. I can weather a tantrum, Erin. Sometimes you've just got to sacrifice yourself for love."
Erin let at least six extra drops of liquid Vitamin B plop onto Edna's wet food before her arm unfroze.
That was the first time the word had been spoken. Thirty-six hours of sexual involvement was pretty early to start thinking about love, at least from a man's standpoint. But there it was, dressed up as a casual, throwaway remark. She was probably making too much of it. She kept her hot face turned away as she laid Edna's dishes on the floor. "We better go," she said. "I hate leaving while Cindy might call."
Connor held out his cell phone. "Here. This is yours now."
She stared at it blankly. "But—"
"Nick's call soured me on carrying this thing around. You take it. We'll leave the number for Cindy on your outgoing message. I don't like doing that, but today's a special case."
"But if people call you?"
"Nobody but my brothers and my friend Seth have the number. And Nick. But I'm going to be with you twenty-four-seven until Novak's accounted for. They can still call me on it if they want."
At that moment, her telephone rang. She snatched it up. "Yes?"
"Erin?" Cindy's voice sounded soft and uncertain.
"Cindy? Oh, thank God. I've been so worried—"
"Look, Erin, don't give me a hard time, OK?"
Connor pushed the speakerphone button, and Cindy's anxious voice filled the room, high-pitched and fuzzy and distorted by the tiny speaker. "I've got enough problems without one of your lectures."
Erin suppressed a sharp reply. She couldn't afford for Cindy to hang up in a huff. "I won't give you a hard time," she said. "I just care about you. You scared me the last time you called, that's all."
Cindy sniffed. "Sorry. Um, what's up with Mom? I called her, and the phone was disconnected. And she's been so weird lately. Like, what is up with that?"
"I don't know yet," Erin said. "I'm trying to figure that out myself, and I could really use your help."
"Um, yeah. I guess. Look. Don't tell Mom about me and Billy and me being in the city, OK? She might wig out even more, you know?"
Connor shoved a piece of paper in front of her face with ADDRESS? scribbled on it.
"Where are you, Cin?" she asked.
"Um… I'm not really sure. I've never been here before last night. It's a big, fancy house with nice furniture and stuff, but all I can see outside the window are bushes. I don't know what neighborhood I'm in."
"You didn't notice when you arrived?"
"I was kind of out of it when we got here last night," Cindy admitted.
Erin struggled to stay calm. "Well, how about you look around for a magazine, or a piece of mail that might have an address on it?"
"I'm in the bedroom now. Billy's downstairs with Tasha. He'd be mad if he knew I was calling you."
Panic fluttered. "What's going on, Cindy? Are you scared of him?"
Cindy hesitated. "Um, I don't know," she said in a tiny voice. "It's weird. He's… he's different today."
"Different how?"
"Oh, I don't know. Cold, like he's impatient with me. He wasn't like that before. He made me feel stupid, because I didn't want to go out on another job tonight. He says I'm being a baby, and I guess I kind of am, but… I don't know. It's just so different today."
Erin's knees gave out like Jell-O. She slid down against the wall, her bottom connecting with the floor with a painful thump. "What job?"
Connor sank down into a crouch in front of her, listening intently. He laid his warm hand on her knee.
"Promise me you won't flip, because I swear it's no big deal, OK?"
Erin tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. "I promise."
"Well, I've been, urn, dancing. Like exotic dancing, but not really, because I—"
"Oh, God, Cin."
"You promised, Erin. I only stripped to my thong. And it was for private parties, not at a club, and Billy's always with me, so I never—"
"Parties? Plural?"
"Yeah. We did three bachelor parties, me and another girl. We made six hundred dollars apiece. It's like, incredible money, and Billy said it was OK if I kept on my thong, since Tasha doesn't mind dancing totally nude, so… urn, and Billy said he'll beat the shit out of anyone who touches us, so it's really no big deal. You know?"
Erin's voice had tightened to a squeaky thread. "Sweetie. Just tell me. Are you OK?"
Cindy paused. "I don't know," she whispered. "It's weird. Yesterday I was fine. Maybe I was just drunk. We did shots of Southern Comfort with Billy first, and it really loosened me up. I felt great when I was dancing, like a total goddess. I felt like the whole world loved me. But today… I have this monster headache, and it's all so different. Billy's different, I'm different. It's wild."
"And can't you just say you want to go home?" Erin demanded. "Just walk out the door?"
"I did," Cindy admitted. "I tried. But Billy said it was too late. He's already got the gigs lined up and he says I can't be a prima donna bitch baby and bail out on him now, because he's, like, a professional, so I have to be, too, and…" Cindy's voice degenerated into tears.
"Cin," Erin said desperately. "You've got to find out the address so I can come and get you."
"Wait. Oh, God. That's Billy on the stairs. I gotta go."
The connection broke. Cindy was gone.
Erin looked up at Connor, wild-eyed. "What is going on? I don't know what fire to put out first! What am I supposed to do?"
Connor's eyes were grim. He held out his hand. "Give me back that cell phone. Let's see what Sean's got for us."
He dialed. "Hey. So?" He listened intently for a moment. "Yeah. We just got a call from her. It's a bad scene. She's in a house she's never seen, doesn't know the address, and Fuckhead won't let her leave." He listened for a moment. "OK, fine. Jacey's Diner. We'll be there in twenty minutes."
Chapter Sixteen
Connor surveyed the poorly lit, dirty stairwell with growing dislike. The place wasn't good enough for Erin. She wasn't safe here.
She'd be better off in his house.
The idea appeared fully formed in his mind, and stole his breath. He'd been living purely in the moment This was the first time he'd dared, even for a moment, to project this thing he had with her into the future. He pushed open the front door, sweeping the block with suspicious eyes and taking note of everyone and everything he saw.
He made a mental note to call Seth and do something about her security. Or rather, her complete lack thereof. She might as well pitch a tent in a parking lot.
Erin fell into step beside him on the sidewalk, and he shortened his stride to match hers. There were haunted shadows under her eyes. He wanted to do something flashy and impressive to chase away those shadows. Slay a dragon, fight a duel, whatever it took.
He took hold of her hand. She glanced up, and her slender, chilly fingers curled trustingly around his. Her shy smile flashed out, like a flash of rainbow-split light from a crystal hung in a sunny window. Wham, all the colors that existed, in one bright, blinding rush.