First Star I See Tonight

20

She loved him. She had stupidly, recklessly fallen in love with Cooper Graham. She’d had plenty of warning-the buzz she’d experience whenever he appeared, the delight she took in making him laugh, the rules she’d broken for him. How could she not have correctly identified that intense wash of emotion engulfing her at the most unexpected times?

She was so dizzy she put her head between her knees, which only made it worse. All the signs had been there, but she’d refused to pay heed to any of them. She’d believed she was immune to falling in love. And maybe she had been. Immune to falling in love with anyone other than Cooper Graham. But watching him being led away in handcuffs had broken open the steel trap that had caged her heart for so long she’d been unaware of its existence. Until now.

She made herself sit back up. She didn’t do love. She had no resources to handle it. How could she walk out this door and act as if everything were normal? He was so perceptive, so good at reading her mind. He’d see her feelings on her face. And if he did see… He’d be so kind. So fricking kind.

The minutes ticked by. Any second now he’d barge in to check on her. She wanted to hide in here forever, but she couldn’t do that, and she made herself stand up. There was only one way she could save herself. Only one way to avoid his pity, his kindness.

She had to get out there and finish this.

He emerged from the kitchen with his shirtsleeves rolled up. His lips looked as swollen as hers. Had she bitten him? He’d arranged the silverware haphazardly on their banquette table, along with two neatly plated arugula and apple salads he almost certainly hadn’t made himself.

“Lobster risotto.” He set down the bowls he’d been carrying. “Direct from the kitchen warming drawer. Extra creamy.” His half-lidded gaze slid over her. “Like you.”

The erotic jolt that zipped through her proved exactly how vulnerable she was. She sank into the banquette.

Forcing herself to eat was even more difficult than pretending nothing had changed. “You’re an amazing cook,” she said.

She knew, and he knew she knew, that he hadn’t prepared any of this, but he played along. “Got my finger cut up a little bit going after the claw meat.”

“Injuries happen to all great chefs.”

He grinned. She relentlessly attacked the risotto. It was creamy, just as he’d noted. Cheesy, with succulent chunks of buttery lobster that threatened to stick in her throat. They talked, or mainly he did, going back over what had happened with Parks. She finally told him how she’d gotten Noah’s computer, but even that wasn’t as difficult as what she had to say, and she finally gave up her attempt to eat.

“No good?” he said.

“Pregnancy screws up your appetite.”

He dropped his fork, and his stark horror testified that she was trying too hard to act normally. “I’m kidding.”

“Not funny!” he practically roared.

“You know I turn into a wiseass when I’m stressed.”

“I don’t care how stressed you are. Don’t ever joke about- What are you stressed about?”

Maybe she could put this off for a few days. A few weeks… The possibility was as seductive as the serpent in the Garden of Eden and as destructive. She had to do this quickly. Perfectly. Be as ruthless with herself as Duke used to be when she’d cried over a broken balloon or a scuffed knee. She was her father’s daughter, and she made herself look him square in the eye. “Breaking up with you.”

“Yeah, right.”

Lay it out logically. Men understand logic. “My job’s over. I finally have a little money in the bank. I even have another place to stay.”

“You already have a place to stay.”

“A better place. Amber’s leaving in a couple of days for a tour with her choral group, and she isn’t coming back to the Lyric until December, so I’m going to stay at her place.” She hadn’t talked to Amber. Hadn’t even thought about staying there until this very minute.

His frown deepened. “Completely unnecessary.”

“I’ve done what you hired me to do.”

“Which doesn’t have anything to do with the two of us.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Sure it does. The job’s over, and so are we.”

His hand curled into a fist on the table. “What are you talking about? We’re both having a good time. Great sex. You’re the woman I want to be with.”

“The woman you want to be with right now.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Another piece of her heart crumbled. “For you, nothing. But there’s a lot wrong with it for me.” She could only nudge at the corners of the truth. “I can’t keep hanging around all your razzle-dazzle. That’s not my world. I’m a homegrown Chicago girl. You’re… the stars.” She managed a creaky smile. “‘Star light, star bright,’ and all that.”

“That doesn’t half make sense.” His hand opened. Pointed. “You’ve told me how you see things, so I know you’re not looking for an engagement ring.”

The way he said it was a knife through her heart. She wasn’t a romantic. She wasn’t. She didn’t want rings and bridal veils. That wasn’t her. But his casual dismissal of any kind of future made her throat close up.

She had to be tough. That’s who she was, and that’s what he expected. She pulled in a thread of air. “A woman’s never dumped you, has she?”

“We’re not talking about dumping.”

“In other words, no. You’re the one who does the dumping. You don’t know how to deal with any other scenario. Don’t you see? This isn’t about me or about our relationship. It’s about your need to win.” It was the truth and maybe he knew it, too, because he grew hostile.

“I don’t need you psychoanalyzing me.”

“It’s for your own good, and, yes, I really am breaking up with you.”

His lips thinned. “You’re a quitter, Piper Dove. I never thought I’d say that about you, but you’re running away from the two of us like a scared teenager.”

So true. With her emotional survival at stake, what else could she do? “I’m not running away. I’m being pragmatic. We’re two different worlds, Coop. It’s time I go back to mine and you go on with yours.”

“Is that what you really want?”

“Yes. Yes, it is.”

He came to his feet and threw down his napkin, his expression as cold as she’d ever seen it. “The hell with you then.”

Coop stalked upstairs to his office. Where did she get off? Tonight was supposed to have been a celebration. He’d planned to surprise her by asking her to move in with him, an invitation he’d never offered any other woman. And what had she done? She’d spoiled the whole thing.

Leave it to Piper Dove to take something straightforward and turn it into a mess. They had fun together. They saw life the same way. What was so hard to understand about that? But instead of appreciating what they had, she had to screw it up.

She was right about one thing, though. He didn’t like to lose. Especially when there was no need for it. He made up his mind. He’d ignore her for a couple of days, give her some time to miss what they had. Get tough with her. Because toughness was something Piper Dove understood.

Her final four nights working at the club were hell, but she’d promised Tony she’d stay till the end of the week, and she couldn’t leave him in the lurch. The story of Coop and his false accuser had played big in the media, and the club was packed every night. Whenever she turned around, there was Coop.

Saturday finally came. Her last night. With all the publicity, any lingering debate about leaving Coop alone on the floor was over. Jonah had organized the bouncers so one of them was always at his side. Until tonight, Piper had been able to beg off “Coop duty” because, as the only female bouncer, she already had too much territory to cover. But on Saturday Ernie called in sick, and she had to take her turn.

Coop had made it easy for her to keep her distance by acting as if she didn’t exist. He was proving what she already knew about him-how much he hated to lose. She missed their closeness so much that she ached-those intimate glances they’d exchanged, their shared amusement over some inanity only they found hilarious. All of it gone.

It was also her last night sleeping above the club. Amber was happy to have an apartment-sitter, and tomorrow Piper was moving in. By tomorrow this chapter in her life would be over. The worst chapter.

The best chapter.

As she watched one of the hair-swishers pressing in on him close enough to leave another makeup smear on his shirt, Jonah tapped her on the shoulder. “Time for you to take over with Coop.” He glanced toward their employer. “What’s with you two, anyway? I haven’t seen you guys talk all week.”

She was leaving, and Coop was staying. She had to do the right thing. “Coop dumped me. In the nicest possible way, of course. He’s the perfect gentleman.”

“No shit? I figured you guys were gonna last a little longer.”

“S’okay. It had to happen. Better sooner than later.”

Jonah gave her a clumsy pat on the back. Even though he was a cretin, she’d developed a reluctant fondness for him.

Within a few minutes of Jonah’s departure, the crowd again started pressing in on Coop, and she had her work cut out for her. “Let the man have some room.”

Most people didn’t give her trouble, and the few who did were drunk and easy to handle. It was a good thing nobody was getting in her face, because she needed a target for every raw, painful emotion swirling inside her. Only a few more hours…

A bro in a fedora and V-neck sweater wedged in on Coop. She grew increasingly furious as she listened to the moron relive every snap Coop had fumbled and every ball he’d thrown late. Coop was used to this kind of bull, and he was handling it fine. But she wasn’t. As the bro started in on Coop’s lousy leadership skills, all the horrible feelings churning inside her found their target, and her temper exploded. She shoved between a couple of his pals, reared up on her stilettos, and grabbed the guy’s shirtfront. “Back off, asshole, or I will rip your fucking head off. Do you understand me?”

Coop’s eyebrows shot up. The guy blinked, then jutted out his jaw with false bravado. “Yeah? Who are you?”

“She’s my bodyguard,” Coop said evenly. “Best not to mess with her.”

The guy began edging away. “Who needs this shithole club?”

Bryan quickly separated the jerk from the crowd. Coop looked down at her with displeasure. “Real smooth.”

“He irritated me.”

“Cut it out.”

She couldn’t handle this any longer, and she walked away. One more hour, and her job would be over.

She checked the ladies’ room and VIP. All well. When she finally came back downstairs, she ran into a group of men surrounding Coop near the mezzanine stairs. An especially loud, gel-haired jock type had positioned himself as close as he could and was gesturing toward him with his beer. “You and me, Coop. We know what it’s like. I had a bitch try to nail me once. Just like what happened to you.”

“You don’t say.” Coop turned away.

But the guy wasn’t done. “Bitch was asking for it. She wanted it. Anybody could see that.”

And then the idiot made the mistake of grabbing Coop’s arm. Coop spun and, with no more warning than that, drew back his fist and punched the guy, sending him bouncing into the crowd.

Crap. Piper shot forward. The guy hit the floor and rolled to his knees, cradling his jaw. She knelt next to him and gazed up at her ex-lover. “Real smooth, Coop.”

Coop glared down and threw her words right back at her. “He irritated me.”

Despite his ferocious expression, she nearly hugged him. This is for all the women who told the truth but nobody believed them.

Three o’clock finally came. She slipped off her heels and dragged herself upstairs to spend her last night in the apartment. Tomorrow, she’d be sleeping in Amber’s double bed underneath an Aida poster.

She got undressed and pulled a plain brown T-shirt over her underpants. She gazed down at the alley from her back window. Coop had left, the spot where he parked his car was empty. As empty as she felt inside.

She crawled into her too-big bed and stared up at the ceiling. She’d done the right thing. She might not believe she could hurt any more than she did now, but staying with him longer-hiding how much she cared-would only make their inevitable breakup more agonizing.

She finally fell into a restless sleep only to be plagued by nightmare figures with clown faces, jackboots, and selfie sticks. They chased her into a crimson jungle where dead women hung head down from telephone poles. She had to scream. But she couldn’t find the air. She had to find air. She struggled to find a scream somewhere. Anywhere.

She jolted awake. It was still dark. Her T-shirt stuck to her skin, and she’d drooled on the pillow. Her heart was racing. Only a dream… Only a dream…

Somebody stood in the doorway. A dark, silent silhouette. Her voice came out in a grateful croak. “Coop?”

He rushed toward the bed.

It happened so fast. One moment she was trapped in a nightmare, and the next moment, a man was grabbing her. A man who was not Coop.

She screamed.

“Shut up!” He had her by the arm. Shook her. She tried to fight, but the sheet trapped her. His hard shake wrenched her neck. She freed an arm and clawed at his face. He slapped her. Her ears rang. The struggle was frantic, the only sounds her gasps. And then even those stopped as his fingers closed around her neck and his thumbs pressed her windpipe.

The overhead light blazed on.

The pressure on her throat stopped as the man jerked up and spun around. She rolled off the opposite side of the bed, fighting to free herself from the sheet as she fell. She hit the floor. Seconds later, she was on her knees, eyes blinking against the sudden light.

Jada stood in the doorway, her Nerf gun at her side, staring at the attacker, a man Piper had never seen. Jada’s voice wobbled. “Hank?”

He had a shaved head and a gun. A silver-barreled, nine-millimeter Beretta. Pointed straight at Jada.

And then right back at Piper.

He scowled. He was big, muscular. He might once have been a decent-looking guy, but the ugliness of hate had transformed his long face into a mask of malevolence. “What the fuck… Where’s Karah? Why isn’t Karah here?”

Jada whimpered from the doorway. He backed toward the far wall so he could keep them both within easy range of his gun. He had the wrong apartment. He was looking for Karah. Piper choked out the words. “She’s-she’s not here. I’m staying with Jada.”

He turned the gun toward Jada. “Where is she?”

Piper prayed Jada wouldn’t tell him her mother was asleep in the next apartment.

“I-I don’t know,” Jada sobbed.

“You lying little bitch.”

“She’s… at an overnight seminar,” Piper managed to say. “For a class she’s taking. Now get the hell out of here!”

“You’re lying.” He was sweating, flushed, maybe high on meth. “She’s with Graham. Whoring around with that bastard.”

He jabbed the gun at Piper. “Get over there with her.”

Piper moved carefully toward Jada, who stood frozen, the useless Nerf gun slipping to the floor. She wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders and prayed Karah wouldn’t wake up. “Karah’s not here. Now get out. Leave us alone.”

“She’s gonna pay for being a whore. She’s gotta pay.”

“Nobody has to pay,” she said carefully. “Just go.”

“Yeah, you’d all like to make me disappear. Make me forget what she did to me.”

“That’s in the past. Let it go.”

He moved closer to them. The gun steady. His attention on Jada. “And her little baby doll. Not so little anymore.”

Tentacles of dread slithered through her body. And then she heard it. The click of the apartment door opening. Karah. He would kill her. And maybe Jada, too.

She’d never felt more helpless. Her Glock was locked in the trunk of her car, and all the self-defense moves in the world were useless as long as he had that gun trained on Jada.

But it wasn’t Karah whose voice echoed from the living room. It was Coop, and her dread turned to ice. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said.

Hank grabbed Jada, jammed the gun against her temple, and jerked his head at Piper, gesturing her through the bedroom door ahead of him.

Coop froze as he saw them emerging. Piper first, then Jada and Hank. “Coop…” Jada sobbed, terrified.

“He’s looking for Karah.” Piper tried to take a step forward only to have Hank shift the gun from Jada’s head to her own.

“Stay right where you are or I’ll blow your head off!”

The gun barrel pressed into Piper’s skull. She tried to block out Jada’s sobs, fought a terror so stark it threatened to paralyze her. She glued her eyes to Coop’s.

Teamwork.

“Put that gun away.” Coop’s voice was low and ugly.

“You come here looking for your whore?” Hank sneered.

“He’s talking about Karah,” Piper said. “Not me.”

Coop didn’t ask any questions. He was a pressure player, and it was fourth-and-goal with seconds left on the clock. “Drop the gun,” he said, his lips barely moving.

“Why should I?” The gun jabbed deeper into Piper’s temple. “I’m going to punish her. She left me and came running to you with her skirt over her head.”

“You got a dirty mind,” Coop said. “Karah’s nothing to me.”

“You’re a liar! Just like she is.”

“I’ve got no reason to lie to you.” Coop was cool, easy, except for the intense watchfulness in his eyes and the muscle ticking at the corner of his jaw.

With no warning, the pressure on Piper’s head disappeared, and Hank jammed the gun back into Jada’s temple. Jada whimpered as he dug the barrel deeper. “I was gonna blow Karah’s head off, but that’s not bad enough. I’m gonna hurt her where it’ll hurt the most.” He threw the back of his arm over Jada’s throat. “I’m gonna blow her kid’s head off first.”

Jada gagged. Her body convulsed.

A trickle of perspiration slithered between Piper’s breasts. Her skin was clammy, her heart pounding. “Why do you think Coop and Karah were lovers?” She needed to talk. Say something. Anything. “Coop’s my lover. Coop and I have been lovers forever. We’re more than lovers. We’re in love.” She talked on. Stalling for time. Distracting him from the gun digging into Jada’s head. “He doesn’t even like Karah. He laughs about her behind her back.”

“You liar.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Coop move. Slowly. A quarter step to the left. She kept talking. “You know what a loser she is. You know that more than anybody. She doesn’t even take care of Jada. Her own daughter. That’s why I stay with her. Because Karah hates her own daughter.” Coop took another step. Teamwork. Teamwork. “How could you still care about a woman like that? She said she never wanted to be a mother. That Jada’s holding her back. Keeping her from being free.”

A strangled, howling sob came from the bottom of Jada’s soul. Hank jerked, and Coop went airborne. That long, lean body extended. He dove. And threw the greatest man-to-man block of his career. A crushing, illegal block that hit at the knees and shook the room.

Piper grabbed Jada and fell on top of her, shielding the girl with her own body as the gun went off.