Tempting Calm Waters Read online

  "You're kicking me out of the club?" I asked incredulously. "I was the victim here, and you're kicking me out?"

  "You know that's not what I said." His voice was calm and measured now, and irked me off. "You need to step away for some perspective, and come back when you're in a calmer state of mind."

  "That's a great idea, Rex," I bit out caustically. "But I already have some perspective for you. If you can't trust anyone here and your own friend who owns the place doesn't trust you either, then what's the fucking point." I shook my head in disgust and turned toward the door. "I'm outta here."

  Fuck this place. Fuck BDSM. Fuck it all. Without trust, this place was a joke anyway. I whipped open the door and surged into the hallway, ignoring Rex's concerned voice calling after me as I stalked out of the club without a single backward glance.

  CHAPTER

  ONE

  ____________________

  Lu

  "Alright, chica," I told my reflection in the mirror in an annoyed tone. "It's just a blind date. It won't kill you."

  Although, it might kill my date if he kept irritating the shit out of me. I did have my service weapon on me after all. I almost never left the house without it. A cop could never be too careful. A detective on the vice squad to be precise, and I damn good one if you asked me.

  I plopped my bag on the counter next to the sink in the women's restroom I was in, and rooted around in the dark interior of the huge thing until I found my brush. I ran it quickly through my long dark hair. I'd taken the time to straighten out my usual loose waves for tonight. When I finished, it hung in a silky curtain, smooth and sleek and halfway down my back. I dug out my lipstick to reapply it, and my dark umber eyeliner for a quick touch up, then studied myself critically. My big dark-brown eyes popped, and the nude lip color looked good with my caramel complexion. I nodded in satisfaction. If all else failed, at least I looked damn good for this nightmare.

  I didn't really need any of the primping since the guy waiting for me out in the restaurant wasn't worth it, but I'd needed a breather from his egotistical rambling. Now I needed to get back to the dipshit, so I shoved everything into my purse again with a beleaguered sigh. I smoothed the layered T-shirts I was wearing under my short black leather jacket. Then I patted my holstered Glock 19 for reassurance where it was tucked under the waistband of my dark jeans, and out of sight at the small of my back. I met my date straight from work and didn't have time to change into anything nicer, but he didn't seem to mind. All he kept doing was staring at my ass and boobs anyway. I rolled my eyes, then hefted my bag onto my shoulder and went back out to the dining room, my knee-high black heeled boots thumping across the floor with my purposeful strides.

  I'll give the guy this much credit. I approved of the restaurant he'd chosen. It was one of the best in town and had excellent food. The Glass House had a beautiful and elegant interior with lots of dark wood and burnished steel accents that gleamed in the low romantic lighting of the hand-blown glass pendant lights that hung above each table. Our table was along a massive glass window that stretched across one side of the room. It was pitch-black out there at the moment, but I knew there was a pond and garden out there that would be gorgeous when spring finally hit its stride. It was still March though with spring having only arrived several days ago. I suspected it was a muddy quagmire out there like everything else was right now from all the melted snow.

  I didn't even bother plastering on a smile as I crossed the main dining room toward Jaxon. That's right his name was Jaxon, with an "X". Whatever the hell happened to spelling a name like it was meant to be instead of bastardizing it just to be different? Okay, so maybe I was being too harsh. Maybe I would've been okay with his name if he hadn't already proven himself to be a self-aggrandizing douchebag.

  Right now, he was smiling at my approach with his eyes firmly planted on my tits. I wondered how long I had before he started talking about himself again. He hadn't shown any apparent interest in anything I had to say so far. I didn't even hide my sigh as I sat across from him. He was handsome enough I suppose with his overly-styled short dark hair and dark-blue eyes, but he had a little too much of a pretty-boy thing going on for my tastes. That, along with his preppy designer clothes, and I had no idea why my sister Emilia thought we'd be a good match.

  "There you are," he said in a slightly patronizing tone that had me gritting my teeth.

  "Here I am," I said. I gave him a tight smile as I hung my bag on the back of my chair. I reached for my fork to take a few more bites of my salmon.

  "Did I tell you about the consulting gig I had in Las Vegas a few months back?" he asked.

  Well, that answered that. It only took Jaxon about ten seconds to talk about himself again. Fuck my life.

  "No, but I bet you're going to," replied with a snarky edge that he was completely oblivious to.

  I finished my meal while he proceeded to prattle on about his stupid trip, and the VIP treatment that his company afforded him. He seemed to think it would impress me. It would impress me more if he could manage to keep his mouth shut long enough to finish his steak, so we could end this farce. I was just about to shove a bread stick in his mouth when the waitress came up to ask if we'd like dessert menus.

  "No thanks," I answered her before Jaxon had a chance to say anything. I'll be damn if I let this nightmare, I mean date, drag on any longer. "We'll just take the check now please." After she nodded and walked away I turned my attention back to Jaxon. He was smirking suggestively at me now. Ew.

  "I see you're in a hurry to move on to the next part of the evening," he said in a smarmy way that set me on edge. "What do you say we do that at my place?" Presumptuous asshole.

  "You know what, Jaxon?" I said as politely as I could manage, but I suspected I sounded annoyed anyway. "I've had a really long day, and I'm going to call it a night and head home...alone." I added that last word for emphasis and clarification. Sometimes you had to spell it out to a dipshit ego-maniac like Jaxon here.

  I noticed his eyes harden almost imperceptibly, and his hand tightened slightly around his fork. I'd angered him. Boo-fucking-hoo. You didn't get to be a detective at the relatively young age of thirty-two without knowing how to read people. I hardened my own gaze and gave him a smile that didn't touch my eyes.

  "Come on, sweetheart," he said in a patronizing tone, his endearment pissing me off. "You know you're not ready to call it a night already."

  He reached out to place his hand on mine on the table. He wrapped his fingers around my wrist and squeezed with just enough pressure to be threatening without actually hurting me. I reached up with my other hand and placed it on his, then glided it slowly up toward his elbow. His eyes grew smug and lustful.

  "Sweetheart," I said in a saccharine tone as my smile turned predatory. I found the pressure point on the inside of his arm just above his elbow. "Don't touch me," I growled out as I rubbed my thumb into it with firm pressure.

  He instantly winced and let go of me, jerking his arm away to rub at the nerve I'd just abused as he glowered at me. I pushed my chair back and stood as I grabbed my bag.

  "Thanks for a lovely evening and the scintillating company." Oops, my sarcasm was showing.

  Jaxon's glower deepened, and his face began to redden as his mouth hung open, apparently too pissed off to utter a word now. Huh, I figured out how to shut him up. Who'd have thought that was possible? I wish I'd done it sooner.

  "Adios, Jaxon," I said with a smirk as I swung my bag up onto my shoulder, then spun on my three-inch heels and strolled away with an eye roll. It was time for my second date tonight, one with my bathtub, a glass of red wine, and my vibrator. Anything was better than spending time with that pendejo.

  I walked outside and headed to the far end of the parking lot, where I parked my baby to keep her safe from any morons that might open their door into her. I'd only had my two-year-old dark-gray Dodge Challenger for a few weeks now, and I'd saved my money for a long time to afford her. I'd be damned if I
took a chance of anyone hurting her. I was a few yards away from my car when my phone began ringing inside my bag. I paused just long enough to dig it out. I saw it was my little sister and answered the call.

  "Hola hermana," I greeted her with a wry grin as I continued heading toward my vehicle. "If you called to check on my date, it was an epic disaster."

  "Lu?" came Emilia's wavering response. I could tell immediately from that one syllable that she'd been crying and that something was terribly wrong.

  "What's wrong, Emilia?"

  "It...it's Tasha," she sobbed out. "She...she's dead."

  "What?" I blurted out sharply because I couldn't have possibly heard that right. Tasha was my sister's best friend.

  "She was...she was murdered!" Emilia wailed out.

  I jerked to a stop near the front of my car in stunned silence. Emilia's harsh sobs managed to break me out of it a moment later.

  "Where are you?" I asked firmly.

  "T...Tasha's apartment," she answered. "I...I...I found her." Her sobs grew louder, more hysterical. I had to rein her in so she could talk to me.

  "Did you call the police, mija?" I asked gently.

  "Yeah."

  "Are you inside the apartment?"

  "Uh, huh."

  "Okay," I said in as calm a voice as I could muster even though I was freaking out right now. "Did you touch anything in Tasha's apartment?"

  "I...I don't know," she whimpered out. "Maybe?"

  "Shh, it's okay," I soothed her. "Don't touch anything else, and go stand outside the door to wait for the police. I'll be there as soon as I can."

  "Please hurry, Luisa," Emilia begged softly.

  "I will, mija," I assured her. "I will."

  I ended the call and began frantically rooting around in my purse for my keys while I freaked out inside. I couldn't believe this was happening, that Tasha was gone. Emilia had been best friends with her since they were little. My little sister would be devastated by this, and poor Tasha's family would take it even worse.

  I still hadn't found my key fob a few moments later. "Motherfucker," I growled out. I really needed to organize my fucking bag. I dug in deeper for it, distracted by worry for Emilia and completely immersed in what I was doing.

  Out of nowhere, an arm suddenly wrapped around my neck from behind and began choking me. I reacted immediately, dropping my bag and grabbing the muscular forearm pressing against my throat with both hands. I bent forward hard, loosening his grip enough so I could breathe. I stomped my boot heel down on his foot twice, then slammed my left fist into his groin three times in quick brutal succession. I followed that up with an elbow jab right into his gut.

  My attacker grunted out in pain and doubled over. I swiftly grabbed his forearm again and bent down as I stepped backwards, pulling my head out of the choke hold. I cranked his arm up painfully behind his back as I brought my leg up to kick him in the face. Then I shoved him hard face-first into the front bumper of my car with a satisfying thump.

  A second later, I had my Glock out and pointed at the groaning piece of shit who had fucked with me. The guy rolled to sit up on the ground with his hands held protectively over his crotch, and froze when he looked up to find my pistol pointed at his face. Son of a bitch. It was my dipshit blind date, Jaxon.

  "You little shit," I snarled at him, delighted to see blood dripping from his nose and fear in his eyes as he ogled the weapon right in front of his face.

  "You...you hit me," he said incredulously, like he couldn't believe he'd just had his ass handed to him by a five-foot-two Latina.

  "I did," I said with a smirk. "And you just assaulted a police officer."

  His eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "What?" he asked in surprise as terror flooded his now wide eyes. If the fucker had bothered to let me talk at all tonight, he'd already know I was a cop.

  "That's right, dipshit, and I believe that's a felony," I adjusted my grip on my weapon and moved closer with narrowed eyes. "So is sexual assault," I added in a low growl.

  He stared cross-eyed at the gun that was practically touching his nose now. It was almost comical. "I...I didn't...I...I wasn't-"

  "Bullshit," I shot back. "What, were you just trying to choke me out for shits and giggles then?"

  "I...I..." he stuttered out like an imbecile.

  I huffed out an annoyed and exasperated sigh. I didn't have time for this shit. Emilia needed me. "Well, it's your lucky day, Jaxon," I said irritably. "I don't have time to arrest your sorry ass right now, so get the fuck out of here before I change my mind."

  "What?" he asked, his mouth gaping like a fish.

  "Get your sorry ass up and leave," I reiterated condescendingly. "And if you ever fuck with me again, I'll put a bullet in your dick."

  That finally got through to him, and he swiftly got to his feet. I heard him mumble something about me being a crazy bitch beneath his breath just before he limped hurriedly away across the parking lot.

  "That's right, asshole!" I called out after him as I tucked my gun back into its holster. Then I snatched up my bag off the ground, found my keys at the very bottom of it, and unlocked my baby. I climbed in, and a few moments later I was pounding my foot down on the accelerator and roaring out of the parking lot to get to my baby sister.

  CHAPTER

  TWO

  ____________________

  Scott

  I watched the blond woman in a short jacket and almost indecently short skirt climb out of her car and walk toward the apartment building, and grinned broadly.

  "Ha," I said smugly under my breath, my voice filling the silent and dark interior of my old gray Buick Le Sabre, my vehicle of choice for a stake-out.

  I lifted my digital camcorder and followed her progress with it as she headed toward the entrance on the other side of the building. When she was finally out of sight, I turned my attention to one of the second-floor balconies with wide sliding glass doors. The curtains were pulled open with the lights on, giving me an unimpeded view inside from where I sat watching from across the street. The subject I was investigating obviously didn't think anyone was on to his infidelity, or he'd have closed those damn curtains. He was also clueless that I'd been following him for several days now on the behest of his wife who suspected he was cheating on her. She was right, and the apartment he was in right now wasn't where he lived with her. The piece of shit rented the place, so he could meet his girlfriend when he was supposedly on a "business trip" every other weekend.

  I zoomed in for a better look inside and settled in to wait for the money shot I needed for my client. The guy was screwed and didn't even know it. His not so distant divorce wasn't going to turn out well for him at all. I lived for this shit, and the fucker had it coming to him.

  My phone buzzed in its car mount on the dash. I glanced over and recognized the number. It was my little brother, Rory. I answered it and put it on speakerphone.

  "What's up, Ror?" I greeted him as I turned my attention back to the apartment. I wasn't going to miss my opportunity to catch this philandering dumbfuck.

  "You're on a stake-out again, aren't you?" he asked in amusement.

  "How can you tell that?" I asked with a wry smile.

  "That's the only time you ever put me on speakerphone," he replied. "Wow, bro, your detective skills are really lacking today," he added teasingly.

  "And you're having a slow night in the ER again, aren't you?" I asked with a smirk. My little brother was in the last year of his residency as an emergency physician and worked long hours, mostly at night.

  There was silence for a beat on Rory's end as the blond walked into the room with my subject. He was a boring and soft-bodied office-type who apparently had a penchant for busty blonds, if the very visible cleavage from her giant tits were any indication.

  "How the hell do you know that?" he asked incredulously.

  "It's the only time you ever call me this late at night."

  "Oh," came his subdued reply.

  I let out a low laug
h and zoomed the lens in tighter as the couple locked lips and began making out, all groping hands and sloppy tongues. Yuck. I was a bit of a voyeur, but not for this.

  "Have you talked to Mom and Dad?" Rory asked.

  "Last week," I said as I grimaced behind the view finder, both from what I was watching and my brother's question. I could only stomach my parent's passive-aggressive judgment of my life so much. I only talked to them enough so they didn't come looking for me at my penthouse to check up on me. My privacy was important to me, and I didn't want them meddling in my life anymore than they already tried to do.

  "Ethan's engagement party is coming up." His tone was hesitant and careful.

  Our older brother had gotten engaged a few weeks ago. My parents were thrilled. Their golden boy was their dream come true, unlike me, the recovering addict and all around disappointment. I was stuck in the middle between an older brother who did everything right, and a younger one who could do no wrong. I didn't stand a chance of making them happy, so I'd given up trying a long time ago. It cost too much of my soul and made me miserable. Now I did what made me happy, and tried to limit my parent's presence in my life as much as I could.

  "Yeah, so?" I asked irritably.

  "We're expected to bring dates apparently."

  And by we, he meant me, because I knew for damn sure that my parents wouldn't bat an eye if Rory showed up stag. I groaned. I didn't date. I fucked. I didn't have the time or inclination for anything else. It didn't stop my parents from trying to fix me up with every single girl they could find in our social class. Like I was going to be some rich asshole with a perfectly polite and boring wife on my arm in a sham marriage just like my father.