One to Protect (One to Hold 3)

nner tomorrow night?”

“Gives us one more day to prepare.”

The next day we hit the gym again, but not too hard. Star doesn’t want to be tired, but we all feel better knowing we’ve polished her self-defense moves.

“The first night will probably just be hummers and fingering.” Her tone is as casual as if she’s tending bar. “Probably don’t need to worry too much about martial arts.”

“I like knowing you’re more prepared.” Wiping my face with the towel, I grab a bottle of water.

Her attention turns to Patrick finishing up a set of curls. “What made you take off last night?”

He exhales loudly and drops the weight, going to lean against the wall. We’re alone in the small room, so we’re being less guarded with our speech. “Did it seem like he was on guard to you? Like he kept looking around?”

She frowns. “Not really. He seemed pretty relaxed, actually, but I guess he does this all the time.”

I can tell Patrick’s not satisfied, and I know my partner pretty well.

“What did you see?” I move closer and lower my voice.

Patrick shrugs. “It was probably me being paranoid, then. I don’t do this all the time.”

“Still, what was it?”

“A few times it seemed like he was looking my way. Like he had his eye on me.”

Star has joined us in the huddle. “I don’t think he’s bisexual.”

“That’s not what I mean. More like he was… curious or something.”

“It didn’t stop him from propositioning me.”

Pressing my lips together, I think about what Patrick is saying. “Sounds like tomorrow night you should be somewhere else. Is there another place you can observe and not be seen?”

“I’ll go over early and try to find a spot.” He turns to Star. “You’ll be in the exact same place?”

“That’s the plan.”

Nodding, Patrick starts to go. “I’m headed back. Don’t worry if you don’t see me tonight. I’ll be there.”

I know he will. It’s almost three, and we all go our separate ways to reconvene at eight.

Five hours later I’m back in the cramped closet, waiting blind. It’s the worst kind of surveillance, even though I know Patrick’s out there being our eyes. I’m in the dark space wondering how long before I lose it.

I check my watch. It’s eight-thirty now. Pulling out my phone, I read back over the texts Mel and I sent back and forth today. Elaine’s spending the night, they’re having a Mexican fiesta, a few suggestive exchanges involving red thongs and sheer nighties. I smile.

I’d give anything to be there with her tonight, my unpleasant task behind us. But this problem won’t take care of itself, and I’m here to see it through to the end.

More time passes. I lean my head back against the wall and try to rest. There’s no fucking way I’m sleeping, but I’m not much for playing with apps, and looking at photos of Mel only gets me more keyed up.

Another thirty minutes pass. I think about what’s to come, and what we’ve got to get through to pin this on Sloan. Then I think about him behind bars and what Star said about wanting him out of our lives for good. We could do all this, and he could still get out on parole. Then what?

My eyes squeeze shut. Now isn’t the time to worry about that. It only distracts me from our plan, from what we have to make happen here.

Checking my watch, I’m sure they’ve had dinner at this point. It’s after nine, and it’s getting nice and dark in the alley. Just then the door pushes open and my adrenaline kicks up a notch.

“Show’s starting.” Patrick pauses to catch his breath. “Crack the window. We should be able to see them.”

I move to the small window and give it a push. Straining into the night, I locate the black door with the orange stripe across the bottom. It’s almost directly below us.