Rev It Up (Black Knights Inc. #3)(68)

The stairwell leading to the third floor smelled like cheap air freshener, and the carpet on the stairs was stained, but other than that, the place was clean.

And quiet, he noted with some concern.

Which meant he’d have to be quick and smart with his work. He couldn’t have the neighbors calling the cops now, could he?

No. Definitely not.

After all he’d done and gotten away with, he certainly didn’t want the killing of some no-account grad student/nanny to be the one thing that finally landed a needle in his vein.

Hoofing it up to the fourth floor, he slipped on a pair of fitted, leather gloves and knocked quietly, then stepped to the side, away from the view of the peephole as he held up the roses.

“Who is it?” a soft, young voice sounded through the door.

“I’m from Silly Lily Flower Shop,” he said. “The guy who lives on the second floor let me follow him in. Are you Lisa Brown?”

“Flowers?” she inquired. “So late?”

“I tried to stop by earlier, ma’am,” he explained, “but you weren’t home. And since I was in the neighborhood anyway, I figured I’d try again.”

“On your own time?” Her voice sounded wary, and he didn’t want that. He couldn’t let another scene like the one with Michelle happen again. He had to think fast.

“Oh hell no,” he chuckled, careful to keep his tone friendly. “We’re a twenty-four-hour shop. Because, ya know, we’ve found most guys who stumble home from the bar at 2 a.m. are less likely to receive any guff from the missus if they have flowers in hand.”

“Oh, okay,” she said. “Hang on just a second.”

Christ, he thought, shaking his head, most women will believe anything if flowers are involved. According to Lisa’s file, she didn’t have a boyfriend, so just who did she think was sending her flowers?

Some clichéd secret admirer, no doubt. She obviously needed to take a page from Michelle Carter’s book on “don’t open the door to strangers.” Of course, he wasn’t going to complain.

He listened anxiously as the deadbolt clicked and the chain rattled, his palms itching inside his gloves, the sweet scent of the roses burning his lungs. The minute the door inched open, he planted a booted foot in the center of the thing, sending it crashing backward along with the woman behind it.

He was on her before she had time to scramble up, before she had time to scream.

Securing her arms behind her back and smashing her face into the rug so that all she was able to manage were a few muted whimpers, he quickly scanned the little apartment, checking to ensure she had no guests. When he found everything quiet, he bent to breathe in her ear, “Lisa Brown.” He loved the feel of her heaving and bucking beneath him. “I need you to tell me where I can find Michelle Carter.”

***

“You owe me twenty bucks,” Becky said with a wry grin, sauntering up to Jake and opening her purse to show him the huge assortment of colorful plastic acorn containers you find inside vending machines, the ones filled with cheap toys. “Not to mention repayment on the sliver of pride I lost while plugging money into that stupid machine. The guy working in the gift shop thought I’d lost my mind. On the up side,” she wiggled her blond brows, “if you ever have a need for acrylic fashion rings, bouncy balls, or flavorless gumdrops I’m your go-to gal.”

“But you were able to finally get them?” he asked with concern.

She winked and held up a small sheet of press-on tattoos, grinning.

He made a grab for the sheet, but she whipped it behind her back, shaking her head. “Ah, ah. You slide me a nice, crisp Andrew Jackson, and I slide you the tattoos. I like you and all. But I’m no gift fairy, and my boss is kind of a tightwad.” At this last bit, she turned and winked at Boss who was leaning against the hallway wall.

The big guy blew her a kiss.

Jake shook his head at the pair as he quickly dug into his wallet, pulling out a twenty. He and Becky made the exchange like a drug deal; he palmed the tattoos the instant she palmed the twenty. And once the trade was complete, Boss pushed away from the wall to sling a big arm around his future bride. “Now that that’s done,” he muttered, “let’s get going. Rock is itching to get back to the hotel.”

“Oh, I just bet he is,” Becky chuckled.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Boss demanded as the two turned and headed down the hall.

“I swear, you men are as blind as bats when it comes to things involving human emotion…”

Jake watched them go until they rounded the nurses’ station and their voices faded. Then he turned back into Franklin’s room, avoiding Shell’s inquisitive, slightly wary stare.

Going into the bathroom, he wetted a washcloth to take back to his son’s bedside and—

His son.

Again the notion hit him like a mortar round, blowing apart his tenuous control, causing his heart to pound and his lungs to seize.

He looked at himself in the mirror over the sink. The hurt was there in his bloodshot eyes, in the heavy lines on his brow and the ones bracketing his thinned lips.

Why did she keep him from me?

And yeah, he knew he needed to ask her that question, just like Boss said. But not yet. Not here. And definitely not now.

He needed some time to prepare himself for the heartbreak he knew her answer would bring…