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  And when he did, when he pictured her frightened and in that kind of danger, when he thought of her hurt and bleeding and alone, a rage he hadn’t felt since his days on the street welled up in him. The kind of rage that had gotten him into far too much trouble in his life.

  Only this time he’d asked for it. Hell, he’d demanded it, demanded to be the one to help her, even knowing it would mean time like this, alone in her company, fighting his tangled feelings every step of the way.

  Great.

  Masochist didn’t even begin to describe it.

  “I think,” Lilith said when the conversation turned, as it inevitably did between people who had their particular boss in common, “you have to have the most amazing ‘How I met Josh’ story in all of Redstone.”

  “The most infamous, maybe,” he said as he signaled for a lane change to get out from behind a truck spitting rocks off its uncovered load. They were in the Redstone car he drove on assignment, but he took care of it as if it were his own, she noticed.

  “That, too,” she agreed with a laugh, and was oddly gratified when that made him smile, perhaps because it looked as if it was in spite of himself.

  “I owe Josh my life,” he said simply. “And not just for not having my…butt thrown in jail back then.”

  She didn’t miss the change of words, and wondered if it was because she was female, or older than he, or simply that she was Redstone and therefore deserved the respect Josh demanded for all his people.

  “I heard he sent you to school.”

  Tony nodded, although he didn’t look at her. It wasn’t because there was a lot of traffic at this midday hour, but maybe he was just a careful driver, she thought.

  “Yes.” She saw one corner of his mouth quirk. “It was his price for staying out of juvie. I’d been there twice, and I didn’t want to go back.”

  This, she hadn’t known. Either part. “His price?”

  “He told me I could go to this school he knew about, or I could go back in the system. My choice.”

  She laughed; she couldn’t help it. “That’s Josh. Giving you options but making the right one all but impossible to pass up.”

  He did glance at her then. “Well, I wasn’t sure it was the right one. To me, then, school was just another form of jail.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “I’ll bet you loved school. Becoming a teacher and all.”

  “I did love school,” she said. “At least, until I got old enough to realize that I was being fed somebody’s particular version of the world, to be memorized and spewed back when required.”

  “Sounds like school to me,” he said dryly.

  “I wanted the truth,” she said, “and to learn how to learn for myself. And that’s why I thought I wanted to be a teacher. To teach that. But when the trouble with my husband began, he used his influence to have me laid off. He didn’t want me working.”

  “Hurt his self-image?”

  “No, teaching was acceptable. It was control. He couldn’t keep me sufficiently under his thumb if I was out working every day.”

  A little bitterness had crept into her voice, and it startled her. She’d thought herself long past such a feeling. Determined to end this now, she turned the conversation back to him. “So Josh made you go back to school?”

  He accepted the change with surprising ease; perhaps he had sensed her discomfort. “Not back. To a different school. A college prep academy. I thought he was crazy. Me, in some snobby, upper-crust college prep? I laughed in his face.”

  Since she had gone to such a place herself, Lilith had a full album of images to draw on. She couldn’t picture the kid he’d been in any of them. Nor could she begin to imagine how hard it must have been for him.

  “But he didn’t give up,” she said.

  “No. I told him it was a joke, no place like that would ever let somebody like me in. He said that was his problem.”

  “And they did.”

  “Turns out it was run by a friend of his.”

  “He has them everywhere, doesn’t he?”

  “That’s because he helps people everywhere.”

  “I’ve often thought,” Lilith said, “that if Josh ever called in all the favors he’s owed at once, he could run the world.”

  “And it’d be a better place,” Tony said.

  “That it would,” she agreed. “So, after that college prep, what happened?”

  “College.” He said it lightly, a small joke. But she was looking at him, saw the expression that flitted across his face, and guessed he’d still not quite gotten over the unexpectedness of it. “Business major. Which,” he said, still lightly, “as you can see, I’m not really using.”

  She could not for the life of her imagine him tied to a desk. “Where?”

  “U.C.L.A.”

  She blinked; she hadn’t known that. “Great school.”

  “Yes.” He flicked a glance at her. “And I’ve paid Josh back. Every cent of the tuition he put into me.”

  Somehow that didn’t surprise her, although she knew Josh would never have expected it. She wondered for a moment what it had taken for him to get Josh to accept the payback. That, she decided, must have been quite a discussion.

  As if he’d read her thoughts, she saw him smile. “He fought me when I started, so I put it all into an account I never touched. Then I handed it over. He finally took it, but only for the next person he decided to help. It became the Redstone Scholarship Fund.”

  She smiled in turn. “That is so Josh it doesn’t even require a comment.”

  That it was Tony as well didn’t escape her.

  She studied him for a moment. His hands were relaxed on the steering wheel and one elbow was resting casually on the armrest of the driver’s seat. Logic, and her knowledge that Redstone Security was known worldwide even in traditional law enforcement circles, told her he might be relaxed now, but if anything happened, he would turn into what he was, a trained agent. John Draven would have seen to that.

  But there was something more in this man, something somehow more intense than even Draven, who had arrived at Redstone via the military, a veteran of battles in various parts of the world, including the one that had taken from Josh his brother and last surviving relative.

  Tony Alvera had been in only one war, but it was an insidious one that claimed casualties in a way that seemed little different to her.

  Except that it took place at home, where kids should have been safe.

  It struck her then that it was no small miracle that this man was here, now, where he was. And while he might want to give all the credit to Josh, she knew better. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out he’d had to fight every step of the way.

  She suspected the thing he’d had to fight hardest was himself.

  Chapter 7

  She had acted, Tony thought as they waited in the visiting area, as if they were simply going for a pleasant drive. Totally at ease, as if he were a casual acquaintance she didn’t mind spending time with.

  Why not, since that’s all you are? he told himself.

  Of course, she wasn’t feeling any of the internal tension he was feeling. She had no idea that he’d volunteered for—or to be honest, commandeered—this assignment, let alone why. So why should she feel anything but relaxed?

  And if she did know?

  His first thought was that she’d run, screaming. But his second thought was no, she wouldn’t, she had too much class for that. She’d think of some graceful, tactful way to deflect his idiocy, and probably try to do it without being cruel.

  But she wasn’t happy to be here, that he could see. She kept looking around, the only sign of nerves he’d seen in her, which was a testament to her determination.

  “Depressing,” she muttered.

  “Yes,” Tony agreed.

  “‘In case of lockdown,’” she read off a posted sign on one wall that explained what visitors must do.

  “Doesn’t happen often, not during vis
iting hours. They’re pretty much sacrosanct.”

  “I’m sure no one wants to lose a chance to see the people they care about.”

  “Not to mention that that’s when they get their contraband,” he said dryly. “Nobody wants to risk that.”

  She went still, then turned away from the posted sign to look at him steadily. “What is it you’re after, Mr. Alvera? Am I supposed to assume you know all these things because you’re Redstone Security, or because you’re a badass yourself?”

  He couldn’t believe elegant Lilith Mercer had said that. Her casual use of the term startled him into gaping at her. As did her perceptiveness, realizing he’d done it on purpose.

  He had no answer to her second question, at least none he wanted to share with her, so he took refuge in the first.

  “It would be nice if you’d quit calling me ‘Mr. Alvera.’ We were at least on a first name basis before.”

  “You weren’t digging into my life before,” she said wryly, but she gave in gracefully and smiled at him as she added, “Tony.”

  That smile did crazy things to him, and he welcomed the arrival of a uniformed corrections officer to escort them to the visiting area.

  While he’d asked for a private room, he’d made clear that in no way was this to be a contact visit. He didn’t want Daniel Huntington anywhere within reach of the woman he’d once tried to murder, even with guards close at hand. There was a table, with chairs on both sides, and Tony guessed this room was usually used by lawyers visiting clients. Lilith stared at the setup, and he wondered if she was thinking of the kinds of people who had sat in these plastic chairs over the years. If she was wondering how on earth she’d ended up in a place like this, even for a moment.

  He couldn’t think of a place more contrary to who and what she was. And he couldn’t imagine how she must feel, being here, for this reason.

  Startling him, she reached for the back of one of the chairs, pulled it out from the table and sat down, crossing her legs at the knees and leaning back casually as if she were sitting in a friend’s living room. As if this didn’t bother her at all.

  Tony realized she’d been contemplating what scenario she wanted her ex-husband to see when he came in: a nervous, frightened ex-wife who was still his victim, or a calm, cool woman who wasn’t afraid of him at all.

  Bravo, Lilith, he thought, wishing he had the nerve to say it out loud. He stayed on his feet; if he had to take Huntington down—an action he would savor to the max—he didn’t want to waste time kicking a chair out of his way.

  The sound of a door opening drew his attention, and he snapped to full alert. His first impression of the man they’d come to see was jumbled. As Daniel Huntington walked through the door, a guard close behind him, Tony wondered what the hell it was that let guys like him look sophisticated even in jail garb. Even now, he oozed upper crust in a way Tony knew, for all his acquired polish, he himself could only fake. There was just something in the way Huntington walked, the way he carried himself. Even his smooth, superior expression made his surroundings seem irrelevant. He didn’t look as if this place had touched him at all, and Tony guessed he’d been able to buy his personal safety as easily as he’d bought his way out of charges from his first wife.

  Even now, the man looked as if he’d walked off the cover of GQ or something, Tony thought. No wonder nobody had believed that he could do something as classless and crude as beat up women. It all fit—that perfect, chiseled face, the blond hair and icy blue eyes, the haughty air….

  But not the fear that flashed in those eyes. It was there for only a split second—if he hadn’t been studying the man so carefully he would have missed it, but he was certain it had been there. Certain in the way he’d once been able to judge whether guys on the street would run or fight.

  This was the kind of guy who’d order a drive-by, but never do the dirty work himself. Not if there was a possibility the victim might be able to fight back.

  The smirk that accompanied Daniel Huntington’s first words made Tony want to smack him down right now.

  “Hello, my sweet wife. Finally missed me too much to stay away?”

  Tony didn’t know if Lilith was going to answer—she was staring at the man as if he’d crawled out from some dark, dank place—but he spoke before she had the chance.

  “Ground rules,” he said, letting every bit of the animus he was feeling show in his voice. And in his face, since his back was to Lilith at the moment. “You sit. You stay on your side of the table. You keep your hands on that table. You don’t so much as lean forward. If I don’t like the way you breathe, I’ll put you on the floor. Got it?”

  Huntington looked him up and down. He was cool now, that moment of fear vanquished and likely forgotten; this was the man who’d nearly fooled a jury into believing Lilith was a disturbed woman who’d made all this up.

  “Bought yourself a pit bull, have you?” he sneered, glancing at Lilith.

  Lilith simply looked back at him, much as if he were some sort of ugly anomaly whose existence she was pondering.

  “Charming, as always,” Lilith said, and Tony marveled at the amusement in her voice. If she was faking it, she was doing a masterful job; Huntington’s jaw tightened slightly.

  “Fitting. Does he service you like the bitch that you are?”

  Tony’s hands wanted to curl into fists.

  Lilith’s smile only widened. “Poor, inadequate Danny. He’s much, much better at it than you ever were.”

  It took all Tony had to keep his expression even and his mouth shut. He knew she was doing exactly what she was here for—pushing Huntington’s buttons—but he wished she’d chosen a different one first.

  He focused grimly on his job, ignoring the images her words had started cascading through his mind. She’d obviously been right about knowing their quarry, because for an instant sheer fury showed in Huntington’s face. Tony guessed it stemmed from the insecurity that was at the base of many abusers, and from the possessiveness of a man like Huntington, who couldn’t abide the thought of anything he’d once owned belonging to someone else.

  “It’s nice to know I can still get to you,” Lilith said, as if she were discussing the weather.

  “You never could,” Huntington declared.

  “Dear boy,” Lilith said, in a tone Tony had always associated with society mavens, “then why are you so angry?”

  “Bitch,” he said.

  “I must say, your vocabulary has degenerated since you’ve been here with all your fellow convicts.”

  Huntington started out of his chair. Tony sensed the action the moment before the man made it, and with a darting move he slammed his forearm across Huntington’s upper chest, slapping the man back into the chair, nearly knocking it and him over like a beetle tossed helplessly on its back.

  The guard coughed but never moved. Tony thought it was a quiet warning until he flicked the uniformed man a glance and saw approval in his expression. Then the man looked away, pretending he’d seen nothing. Tony straightened, towering over the seated man now.

  Huntington looked startled and off guard, so Tony struck fast, spitting out the question with all the fury he himself was feeling.

  “Who did you hire?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You know damned well what I’m talking about. Was the plan murder, since you failed when you tried?”

  Tony couldn’t be sure if the man’s sudden tautness was because he’d struck home with the truth, or merely at the accusation of failure; he was fairly certain the latter would get to the likes of Huntington more.

  He pressed, leaning in until Huntington reacted, and wariness came into those icy blue eyes.

  “You sent somebody after her, and I want to know who it was.”

  “After her? Why on earth would I do that? She’s nothing. Less than nothing.”

  Then why the insults? Tony told him silently. That was not the reaction of a man to a woman who meant nothing to him
. Even hatred was a form of saying someone mattered to you.

  “I know you set it up. And I will find out how and who you sent. When I do, your life here is going to be even more miserable.”

  “I did nothing,” Huntington declared. “Why don’t you ask her who else she’s made angry enough to want to give her what she deserves.”

  “Was it somebody who was getting out? Cell mate?”

  Huntington glared at him. Tony leaned in.

  “Maybe just your mate? Whose bitch are you?” Tony used the word purposefully, turning it back on the man who had thrown it at Lilith. He knew the moment he’d said it, however, that he’d blown it. He’d let his emotions override his cool.

  “Go to hell,” Huntington said. His face went tight and stubborn, and Tony knew he had shut down. He refused to say another word, and at last Tony had to signal the guard that they were through.

  “That went well,” Tony muttered under his breath as they cleared security and started out of the building. He gave her a sideways glance, but was unable to read anything in her expression. “I’m sorry. I blew it in there.”

  “It was worth it.”

  He stopped in his tracks. She halted a couple of steps later, and turned to look at him.

  “I just made this whole thing harder,” Tony pointed out. “He’ll never talk now. So how is that worth it?”

  “It was worth it to me,” she amended. “Because I wasn’t afraid of him.”

  Tony’s expression softened. One corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked smile. “No, you weren’t. You were iced. It was him who was nothing to you.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, it was worth it, then.”

  His abrupt about-face seemed to amuse her, and she smiled back at him.

  He was contemplating the effects of that smile, a little amazed that she wasn’t angry with him for having made a hash out of the interview. He’d always known, simply because of the kind of person who was Redstone, that there was much more to her than the polished, refined exterior. That had been proven to him during Logan Beck’s case, when she had gone out of her way to allow Liana to help the ex-cop. She’d barely known her new assistant, hadn’t known Beck at all, but she’d gone to the wall for them both, right along with Josh.