Calamity Jena (Invertary 4)

Matt stared him down for a beat before answering. Frank Di Marco was the living definition of revolting. “She isn’t going back with you.” Matt decided to cut to the chase. The tick beside Frank’s eye telegraphed his displeasure at Matt’s words. “You can give up on your plan to talk her in to stripping at your club. Jena doesn’t strip. Especially for you.”

Frank’s surprise oozed through a crack in his easygoing façade. “You’ve been doing some investigating, officer.” Frank spat the last word out like it was an insult.

Matt shrugged. Like he cared what Frank Di Marco thought about anything. “I’ve done some digging. You’re in trouble with the club. Your investors have given you an ultimatum to turn things around. You think Jena is your ticket out of trouble.” Matt leaned forward. “Let’s be clear about something. Jena isn’t your ticket to anything. Jena isn’t your anything at all. You blew your chance with her. She’s done. It’s time for you to go home. Find another way to save your sorry hide.”

Frank clenched his fists on top of the table. “You don’t get to tell me nothing. You’re insignificant. Jena and me got history. One mistake don’t wipe that out. You have no idea what you’re dealing with here, cop. Back off before you regret it.”

Matt's eyes went hard. “Are you threatening me, Frank?”

The easygoing smile was back. He spread his hands wide. “Now what makes you think that, officer? I’m just giving you a friendly heads-up that Jena is fair game. Unless you got a ring on her finger, you ain’t got a claim to her. If her feelings for me should persuade her she’d have a better life back in the States, then so be it. You can’t do nothing to stop her going home with me.” He laughed. It was small and pathetic, but it still made Matt want to break his nose.

“You’re delusional if you think she has feelings for you. You’re also delusional if you think I don’t have a claim.”

“We’ll see.” The smug smile on Frank’s face acted like a target for Matt’s rage.

“Be very careful,” Matt said. “I don’t play games with the people who belong to me.”

“Good she doesn’t belong to you, then.” Frank leaned forward and sneered inches from Matt’s face. “You got her on loan, cop. Jena belongs to me until I say otherwise. And I ain’t ready to let her go. Not while I still have use for her.”

“You son of a…” Matt pulled his fist back, ready to let it fly.

A hand clasped his arm and held him back. Matt looked up to find Grunt st

aring down at him. His muscles were clenched with the effort it took to hold Matt back. His face was blank.

“Don’t,” was all he said.

Matt felt everything within him still. If he had to go through Grunt to get to Frank, so be it. In fact, it would be Matt’s pleasure.

“This is not the time,” Grunt rumbled.

Matt clenched his teeth as the room came into focus. Every eye was on him. He never lost control. He never forgot he was a cop. Never. Not until Jena. He couldn’t cope with a threat to Jena. All he could think was that he had to eliminate the threat—now.

Grunt leaned over to talk in Matt’s ear. “Your girl’s coming back. She needs you.”

Matt’s eyes shot to the bathroom doors. Grunt released his hold on Matt and stepped back. Jena stepped into the room. She walked stiffly as though injured. Her face was pale, and her eyes were glassy with tears. Matt’s eyes shot to Jena’s mom, who seemed pleased with herself. Now Matt had two people to kill. He wondered if Lake would help him hide the bodies. With effort, he swallowed his anger. Jena needed him.

Jena stopped beside him. “I want to leave. I don’t feel well.” She kept her eyes on the floor.

“I think it’s all the rubbish she eats,” her mother said with barely concealed glee. “Carrying extra weight can make you feel real bad.”

Jena’s head lifted slightly and big, sad eyes beseeched him. “Please,” she whispered.

“You know we can,” Matt said softly.

He stood, wrapped his arm around Jena and, without a word to Frank or Mona, he led her out of the pub. Shielding her from the Invertary gossips as he did so.

22

Jena walked straight into her house without a word to Matt. She couldn’t talk to him even if she wanted to—the voices in her head were too loud to talk over. All she could see, and hear, was a continuous replay of her time in the restroom with her mother.

She stalked up the stairs, stripped out of her bad-luck dress and pulled on her favourite PJs. Once her feet were clad in fuzzy bunny slippers instead of her usual wedges, she rummaged around in the back of her closet for the box she knew was there. Once she’d pulled it out, she strode back downstairs to the front door.

“Jena, princess, what are you doing?” Matt appeared from the living room. She’d forgotten he was there. He’d taken off his jacket, and Jena was momentarily distracted by how good he looked in the soft grey v-neck he wore.

“It’s okay,” Jena told him. “You can go to bed. I have something I need to do.”

“Jena, it’s only nine o’clock. Even my mum doesn’t go to bed this early.” He eyed the box. “Want to tell me what you’re up to?”