Righteous Fury (To Protect and Service Book 2) Page 2

  “Yeah?” A chill ran through her, and she tried to reassure herself. Killed a man with my bare hands. Could do it again. It wouldn’t bother me, not now, because I have nothing to lose.

  “He asked if Maurice was your boyfriend. Wanted to know all about you. I gave no personal details, but I offered to introduce him. Is that a problem?” Todd stopped dancing too. His blue eyes narrowed, his sweet face stern in a hurry.

  As a corrections officer with the federal Bureau of Prisons, Kimi trusted Todd wouldn’t have given any stranger information about her. He’d be circumspect in that regard.

  Kimi patted him on his beefy shoulder, reassuring him she understood he had her back. “He left. But not before giving me a once-over. Did he tell you his name?”

  “Lawrence. Or maybe it was Larry. It definitely started with a ‘lar’ sound to it. It’s hard to hear with the music blaring so loud.”

  Maurice danced on, his expression unconcerned. “He’s gone now. I’ll see to it he stays gone.”

  “If I don’t do it first,” Kimi retorted. She mock-growled and flexed threateningly at both men. They relaxed and laughed.

  A song she enjoyed came on, and she began to dance again, searching for the joy in it. Kimi danced as if she didn’t have a care in the world, trying not to think about her life. Not about lost jobs, lost parents, lost friends, and weirdos who at least had the decency to get lost too.

  She tried not to think about anything because all of it hurt. As usual, she had no success.

  In the wee hours of the morning, Kimi and Maurice closed down Rafters with a few other hardcore dance floor enthusiasts and what Maurice called the “don’t-want-to-go-home-by-myself” types. Todd, who did not fall within either camp, had headed out at midnight.

  Maurice was his usual gentlemanly self, escorting Kimi to her motorcycle as he always did. Kimi had a flash of amused affection at his protectiveness. She was also touched. Maurice’s problem wasn’t that he cared; it was that he cared about someone who no longer cared for herself.

  Kimi was already contemplating the bottles of alcohol awaiting her attention at home. She’d had enough at the bar to not feel desperate for a drink, but the need nagged at her anyway. She wasn’t numb enough to sleep through the night.

  Maurice looked around the parking lot as they reached her bike. The area was empty but for a few stragglers. “It looks as if the coast is clear. No madmen I have to lay the tackle on.”

  “Thanks for the escort, Maurice.” It was then that Kimi saw the scrap of paper taped to her gas tank. “What’s this?”

  “Probably a note from Todd. He forgot to tell you something before he left?”

  Kimi pulled the folded white scrap off. It was a note, but not from Raven’s ex. “’Hello, Kimi. We haven’t met, but I’m acquainted with your friend Raven. No doubt you want to find out what happened to her on that road six months ago. I’ll call you tomorrow.’”

  Chapter Two

  Kimi’s stunned gaze met Maurice’s. The big man spluttered in fury. “What the fuck is this shit? I bet it’s from that weirdo Todd was speaking to earlier.”

  “Could be. Todd said he acted as if he knew Raven. Maybe he has information about her disappearance.”

  “Is it signed?”

  “No.” She turned the paper over, holding it up to the security light overhead. It looked like a generic bit of paper that had come off a notepad. There were no marks that identified its origins or the person who had written the cryptic message.

  “Don’t meet this guy alone anywhere. Watch yourself when you’re out and about, all right honey? You’re in a bad frame of mind, and I don’t want you to do stupid shit.”

  Kimi stuffed the note in her pocket. “Who me? Ms. Stupid McStupid Face? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Maurice bestowed his mother hen look on her—if the mother hen in question was huge and scary enough to make a quarterback shit his pants. “Don’t fuck with me, woman. You’ve had a death wish since Raven disappeared. You have a life to live. A worthwhile life.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” His words were little more than noise, but it was his concern that got to her. On a sudden whim, Kimi threw her arms around him, hugging him hard.

  He returned the embrace. Had he done so with half the power he possessed, he would have crushed her. He settled for holding her tight so that she couldn’t breathe for a moment. In her ear, he whispered, “Be safe. Be strong. You can handle this.”

  Kimi swallowed a sudden wave of emotion. Too much loss. Too much hurt. She told him, “I wish I did. There are only so many times life can yank the rug out from under you before you lose interest in getting up.”

  “Kimi—”

  She patted his shoulders and pushed away. Forcing a brave smile, she said, “I’ll be fine, sweetie.”

  She straddled the bike and woke the beast, making it roar. She reversed out of the parking space, aware of Maurice’s troubled gaze on her.

  Kimi saluted him. Before the pain could overwhelm her, she tore off, flying into the darkness. She rode toward the highway where maybe her luck would change for the better and a truck would wipe her out, taking her out before she realized it was finally over.

  Kimi rode home fast and hard. She rode as if she had a hope of escaping the horrors of the past year.

  * * * *

  The cell phone’s monotonous buzzing wasn’t loud. It still woke KImi to a head splitting in half. She groaned and rolled over, slitting her eyes open to glare at the phone on her bedside table. Though the room was dim, thanks to light-blocking curtains, the clock next to her cell told her she’d be better off making lunch than breakfast, once she peeled herself out of bed.

  True to form, she’d drunk herself into oblivion once she’d reached her apartment. Sweet, thoughtless, painless oblivion. It was the only path to sleep.

  Until some asshole decided to give her a call. She showed the phone the finger, hating whomever was on the line.

  It continued to buzz, demanding she attend to it. Kimi usually let it go to voicemail, but its summons was making her skull ache. It needed to stop. She picked it up and blinked to read the hazy readout. She didn’t recognize the number.

  Fuck whoever. She poked at the screen to decline the call—but somehow accepted it instead.

  It was going to be a great day.

  Her head pounded as she brought the cell to her ear. Her mouth felt made of fat, dry, fluffy marshmallows as she muttered, “Yeah?”

  “Kimi Furio?” a man’s voice responded. It was low and decadent, bringing thoughts of half-naked musclemen to mind, the kind that sold high-end cologne in glossy magazines. If Kimi hadn’t been so miserably hung over, she would have been amused that she found the voice sexy.

  She was not amused. She was in pain. “That’s the owner of the number you called. Who is this?”

  “Did you get my note last night?”

  Last night. Where was she last night? Kimi only went to three places these days: the grocery store, the liquor store, and Rafters.

  Rafters. Her brain assembled itself from the booze-soaked shards that had been left from her bender to provide the information.

  She sat up in the oak-framed bed that had once belonged to her parents, forcing her protesting body to deal with being up. “You’re the dark-haired guy who was talking to Todd. He said your name was Larry? Lawrence?”

  The man chuckled. The sound was delicious and wicked. The idea of cologne models disappeared in the wake of that knowing laugh. Now Kimi had a firm vision of Larry/Lawrence/whatever he called himself, with horns sprouting out of his forehead and a pitchfork in his hand. In the good old days when Kimi gave enough of a fuck to actually fuck, she would have been ready to sell her soul to the guy for a roll.

  He told her, “Either of those names will do for now. Are you sufficiently sober to chat about Raven Virtue?”

  Kimi woke completely, her mind clearing though the headache wasn’t going to leave any time soon. She ignored that part. “Wha
t do you know about what happened to her?”

  “That she’s alive and kicking. Where can we meet?”

  Kimi had seen the horror of the crime scene. It intruded violently, replacing the view of her actual surroundings; an apartment bedroom overfilled with more inherited ponderous furnishings. A lot of that blood and flesh had been Raven’s. Not as much as the other guy’s, but more than plenty. Raven could not be alive.

  Yet her heart had no use for reason. As stubborn as the rest of Kimi, it clung to that slender, fraying strand of hope. Angry at the weakness, Kimi snapped, “She can’t be alive. You’re fucking with me, and I’ll tear your lying tongue out for it.”

  The bastard chuckled, amused at her outburst. “I bet you could use some of that coffee so many of your kind are fond of. What do you say? We’ll go to a public establishment where you’ll feel safe. I’ll tell you all about Raven…and how you can someday see her again, if you accept my offer.”

  “What offer? What are you talking about?” Kimi was out of bed, ignoring the rush of nausea as she shoved her underwear off, letting it slither down to her ankles. Undressing for a quick shower, because she had every intention of meeting with Larry the Liar, if only to beat his head in for making her wish for the impossible. And why shouldn’t she pound the shit out of him? It would be just another life destroyed in a long line of those Kimi had crossed paths with.

  The sniggering bastard on the other end of the line would rue the day he’d decided to fuck with Kimi Furio. If he lived.

  “Name the place, Kimi. Where will I see you?”

  A nice public location, in case he came armed or brought friends in the hopes of overcoming her. A spot she could flash her not-yet-revoked badge so others would stand aside while she relieved the world of a piece of shit, then grab a coffee to go. “Mae’s Doughnut Shop. It’s on—”

  “I know how to find it. In an hour then? Try not to wreck your bike on the way over.”

  “I’ll wreck you over a cheese Danish, you pompous son of a – hey. You still there? Motherfucker hung up on me.”

  She tossed the cell on the rumpled bed, disgusted with the jerk who’d chosen to jerk her chain. She wrenched off the nightshirt she didn’t remember putting on when she’d brought her drunk ass to bed.

  Kimi wrinkled her nose, smelling the sour odor of alcohol coming out of her pores. Yep, a shower before she confronted Larry the Liar. Or maybe she shouldn’t. If by some chance he was just weird and not worth beating to a pulp, her rank state would convince him she wasn’t worth stalking.

  Yet he might have actual information on Raven. Surely Kimi’s bestie was dead, but it would be better to know how that had happened. To recover her best friend’s body—that would be worth taking the chance that Larry had something worthwhile to say.

  A shower it would be. Kimi would even put on makeup for the shithead. Being pretty and not a walking advertisement for booze disarmed men. Many had not taken her seriously in her law enforcement career because of a lovely appearance and slamming bod—not until she’d handed them their asses.

  At the last second, Kimi diverted from her course to the bathroom. The aspirin was not in the medicine cabinet. It was in the cabinet next to the liquor, the better to wash it down with. Hard-won experience had taught Kimi the combination was the best cure in the world for a hangover headache.

  * * * *

  Kimi entered Mae’s Doughnut Shop, once a favorite breakfast stop in the good old days when she worked. She surveyed the familiar environs. Same old Mae’s: pitted but clean counter, glass case a quarter-filled with pastries after the morning rush, another case half-filled with doughnuts, computer register, a scattering of tiny tables with two chairs apiece, and Native artwork hanging on the walls. The buttery-light scent of fresh baking gave Kimi a sudden craving despite her uneasy stomach. She hadn’t had a scone in weeks.

  She rectified that situation, placing her order for the blueberry variety with the Native American woman behind the counter, along with a large coffee. Feeling a wave of nostalgia for a life that had existed eons ago—it couldn’t really be less than a year past before it all went to hell—Kimi went to the rear of the bakery and sat at a red-topped table. She positioned herself where she could keep an eye on the huge front plate glass window and door. She wondered if the mysterious Larry would show up after all.

  He did. His hair was as black as a raven’s wing. The sides were cut shorter than the top, where it layered in soft waves from a well-formed brow.

  Larry was not Boy-Next-Door handsome like Todd. He was darker, his face narrower, though with no less chiseled perfection. It was a different flawlessness that hinted at secrets, whereas Todd’s features were open and sweet. Larry could have been from any number of ethnic ancestries: Hispanic, Native American, Middle Eastern, or Asian by way of India. No matter what his ancestry, Larry was walking danger, the bad boy girls did dumb stuff over. Had he worn a leather jacket and jeans instead of the crisp white button-front shirt and khakis, he would have looked perfectly cast. Even the beard shadow on his square jaw was in keeping with his dark, devilish look.

  Only those turquoise eyes didn’t match. Colored contacts? They shone from his brown face, somehow turning him even more predatory.

  Perhaps his gaze should have made her nervous, but he didn't turn it on her while he stood at the counter. He didn't glance at her once as he gave and waited for his order. Kimi wasn’t sure if it was a subtle slight or not. If it was meant to unsettle her, Larry had miscalculated. By the time he collected his food, she had filed away his fabulously frightening handsomeness as unimportant.

  She offered no sign that she'd been impressed by what she saw when he sat across the table from her. Larry had a surprise beyond his stunning looks, however. He angled his chair so that he could easily see the entrance to the shop. It was the mark of a law enforcement agent or a crook.

  He set down a tall glass of orange juice and a sandwich. The delicious scent of eggs and cheese on wheat toast wafted to her. A nice, healthy start to the day, healthier than her scone. There was another scent too, which seemed somehow familiar. Apparently, Larry had expensive taste in cologne.

  He stared pointedly at her scone. Kimi took a bite of pastry to thumb her nose at his opinion of her choice of breakfast fare.

  Talking through her mouthful so that she sprayed a bit of scone—important to put him off if he was a stalker not worth beating—she said, “Well, at least you look good.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” He gave her the once-over and nodded. “You’re easy on the eyes yourself, all things considering. Those circles under your eyes aren’t doing you any favors, but most wouldn’t pick up on the monumental drinking problem you’re courting. The suicidal tendencies you’ve developed aren't in evidence either.”

  Damn Todd and his big mouth. Kimi ignored the fact he would never share such knowledge with a stranger. Doing so kept her from feeling rattled that Larry knew far too much about her.

  Lowering her voice to sound threatening, she snarled, “Fuck you. Tell me about Raven or you won’t have teeth to chew your sandwich.”

  He snorted but answered. “As I said, she’s alive. Ruining the lives of evil guys she meets—along with those who prefer to remain close.” He laughed, as if enjoying some private joke.

  “Proof. I want to speak to her in person.”

  Larry chewed seemingly forever before swallowing. “Oh, you want to see her for yourself, do you? That would take a long-distance journey, I’m afraid. Farther than the ends of the Earth.”

  Kimi was sick of his smug attitude. She resolved she would pound the motherfucker and take the consequences with a smile. “Either you give me worthwhile information right now, or I kill you in front of all these nice people. In an ugly fashion that will swear them off donuts for the rest of their lives. I can make it look like self-defense and get off scot-free, so lay on the good intel.”

  Larry turned his back to the rest of the room and leaned towards Kimi. “How is this?”


  His face changed. Not his expression, not his demeanor, but his whole fucking face. His dark skin grew darker, his cheeks beefed up, his blue-green eyes changed to brown. Though his body and hair remained the same, it was Maurice looking at her from only inches away.

  His features shifted again, changing quickly. Todd’s All-American visage smirked at Kimi. Next came the donut counterperson with her Native features. Then Kimi was looking at herself, except with Larry’s blue-black hair swept from her features.

  The final face he put on before he changed into Larry was Raven’s. Kimi stared into her friend’s blue eyes framed in black lashes, at the cute pug nose, at the familiar round cheeks.

  Then it was Larry again, a devastatingly handsome creature who couldn’t be a man, who’d shocked Kimi so severely that she couldn’t summon a scream.

  Alcohol poisoning. Or post-drunk hallucination. Maybe a full-on nervous breakdown. God knows I’m overdue to go insane.

  Her companion returned to his normal position, allowing him to monitor the rest of the shop and whatever happened in front of it. He took a bite of his breakfast, washing it down with juice before telling her, “My name is Laaruu. I am of a race known as the Paatiin from the world of Paatuun in an alternate universe. That’s where your Raven is. That’s where I wish to take you, Kimi Furio.”

  She whispered, “I’ve lost my fucking mind.”

  “I’d agree, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. Here, another demonstration.” He held up a hand, grew two extra fingers, and wiggled them as if waving to her. “Go on. Touch. Reassure yourself I’m not a hologram or projection.”

  He certainly spoke like a space alien, at least similar to the those from television and movies. Kimi had no intention of touching him, but her hand, seemingly having developed a will of its own, reached and grasped the extra fingers.

  Warm, firm flesh. He felt real. Yet her hallucination could be tactile as well as visual and auditory. She pulled back and stared.