Dangerous Protector (Red Stone Security #14)(8)

Time to disappear. For now. But he’d be back. Next time he was going to get what he wanted.

*

The handsome detective and Aaron both looked at Tegan with a mix of surprise and possibly horror.

Aaron was the first to speak. “You stole a gangster’s dog?”

She lifted a shoulder. “She was a puppy when I took her. Jerk was abusing her.” And she felt no guilt over what she’d done. Kali was hers now. “The last time Enzo dragged me into his office I knew—or thought—he was going to kill me because I didn’t have what he wanted. After he gave me an ultimatum he stormed out, his thugs trailing behind him. I scooped up the puppy and shoved her into my bag.” She’d been so tiny back then, about six pounds soaking wet. “Kali was so scared, probably because the only thing I’d ever seen him do was kick her or yell at her, so…” She shrugged again, feeling defensive at the way they just stared at her. Tegan might have saved Kali’s life, but it went both ways. Her sweet dog had saved Tegan right back. Kali had been her only true friend and companion the last two years. The only constant in her life.

“He could have killed you!” Aaron shouted, a red flush creeping up his neck.

She didn’t appreciate the anger. “I wasn’t just going to leave her to be abused. And that’s not the point.” She turned back to the detective.

The other man cleared his throat. “Let’s start at the beginning. Like what kind of ultimatum De Fiore gave you, and why he dragged you into his office in the first place. And why you were on the run from him for two years.”

Taking a deep breath, she kept her focus on the detective, trying to ignore Aaron’s intense stare. “My brother was in the Army, but when he got out he was different. Angry, disillusioned…which isn’t really the point, I guess.”

She rubbed a hand over her face, pushing down all the painful memories of how distant he’d been when he’d come home. The detective didn’t need to know all that. “Anyway, he started drinking and gambling. He got in really deep with the wrong people, had some debts he’d never be able to pay off. So he agreed to do some jobs for De Fiore, transporting stuff. One of those transports was a bunch of stolen diamonds. For all his faults, my brother was well trained and, when he wasn’t drinking, highly capable. During the transport, my brother and the diamonds went missing. De Fiore thought I knew where my brother was.”

“Do you know?” Detective Duarte asked, his expression neutral.

“No, but I imagine he’s dead. He wouldn’t have run off with a bunch of diamonds when he would know De Fiore would come after me first. He simply wouldn’t have done that.” She’d bottled up her pain for a long time, knowing her brother was gone for good.

The detective’s mouth pulled into a thin line. “People do crazy stuff for money.”

That was true enough, but she knew her older brother wouldn’t have left her to fend for herself. Colm had certainly had his faults, just like any other freaking person, but he’d been more into self-destruction than anything else. He wouldn’t have let her hang for a crime he committed. “Not him.”

Even though she saw a flash of doubt in the detective’s eyes, he simply nodded. “So your brother went missing and so did the diamonds.”

“Yeah. De Fiore had some of his thugs come and get me as soon as my brother went missing. It’s actually the only reason I knew Colm was gone at all. De Fiore told me that if I didn’t find my brother or get him to come in with all the stolen diamonds, I’d be dead. I looked for my brother, went to all his haunts—even though I didn’t think he would be at any of them.” Someone had to have stolen them because Colm simply wouldn’t have left her to fend for herself. No way. “The next day someone torched my car with a mannequin inside it. The mannequin had a red wig. The message was pretty damn clear. So I ran.”

“Did you go to the cops?” Aaron asked, his voice filled with concern.

She glanced at him and found strength in just looking at him. He might be surly sometimes but he was a solid presence right now. Even if he had just shouted at her, the man made her feel safe. Like nothing could get through him. “There was nothing they could have done to help me. I never saw De Fiore torch my car—or more likely one of his thugs did anyway. I didn’t have anything against the man. Not actual evidence anyway. I had my word against his, but that’s nothing in the legal system. I watch the news, I know how the system works. And everyone in the neighborhood knew the Feds had been after him for years. Years. If they didn’t have enough evidence to convict him, what would the cops be able to do to protect me when I came to them with nothing but a story that he threatened me? Nothing, that’s what.”

The detective made a sort of grunting sound that almost sounded like he agreed with her. He would know how the justice system worked. It was like restraining orders. For the most part they were absolutely useless. “How’d you avoid him for two years?”

“After college—before coming back to Chicago—I backpacked for a couple years because I wanted to travel. So basically I just used the same principles from my traveling days and stayed off the grid the best I could. I deleted all my social media accounts, lost contact with everyone I knew, and I used cash everywhere. I got jobs that paid under the table and I didn’t stay in one place long.”