Holding on Tighter (Wicked Lovers 12)

Because from what Jolie could see, Anna must have been an extremely happy woman. Heath was very good not just at caring for a woman’s well-being but making her feel utterly adored.

He didn’t answer at first. A long moment went by, and Jolie began to worry she’d picked the wrong topic.

“I . . .” He sighed. “I couldn’t—”

Before he could say more, his phone rang at his side. Heath stood and dried his hands, then answered his mobile. “Powell.”

He motioned her to wait there and walked out of the bathroom. Jolie soaked for long minutes, letting herself revel in the scents, the steam, the utter feeling of needing to be nowhere and being required to do nothing. Now she understood the value of a good bath.

With her head propped on the edge of the tub, she dozed for a long minute, thoughts of Heath swirling in her head. He had been unable to remarry. She understood that now. He must have loved his late wife very much.

Maybe he’d never love anyone else.

The thought had her frowning as Heath returned to the room.

“Cutter is looking into the mysterious gifts your sister has received. He doesn’t like them, either. Particularly the latest. How could he possibly know we’ve had so many other issues that I haven’t yet finished the office security?”

“Good question. So what should we do to figure out Creepy McStalker’s identity and get rid of him?”

“Your sister must know more than she’s letting on. Cutter plans to grill Karis this weekend.”

“That won’t go over well,” Jolie warned.

“He’s a professional. He’ll get to the bottom of it. In the meantime, he’ll keep her safe so you don’t have to worry.”

She appreciated that. But she’d feel much better once they’d solved this riddle. “Are my twenty minutes up?”

“Not yet. Close your eyes.”

With a sigh, she did as he’d demanded. The little protest was mostly for show. She hadn’t relaxed in years and was actually enjoying it. But she couldn’t let him think he was right that easily.

Jolie was about to drift off when she heard the sound of shattering glass followed by a loud thump coming from the front of her condo.

No one was here except her and Heath.

She gasped and sat up, only to find him tense and alert. “What was that?”

***

INSTANTLY, Heath went cold, focused. He grabbed a towel and tossed it on the edge of the counter. “Get up slowly. Keep the sloshing water to a minimum. Get dressed. Stay back here.”

“You think someone’s broken in?” she whispered.

It was a distinct possibility, and he didn’t want to frighten her.

“Call the police.” He headed out the bathroom door.

“Be careful,” she called in a breathy, shaking voice.

“Always.”

He drew his weapon from his holster, headed into her bedroom, and found it clear. Then he crouched and turned down the hall. The narrow walkway ran nearly the whole length of the unit. From here, he could see the hall bath and home office doors closed on either side. The family room straight ahead looked almost too still.

He crept farther toward the front of the condo, and the kitchen came into view. The pans he’d used to cook breakfast were still scattered around the stove and counters. He’d left the butter out. A few shards of glass peppered the floor, refracting sunlight from the surrounding windows. Those shimmering bits hadn’t been there before. Heath pressed forward. The hair at the back of his neck stood up.

A disturbance to his left drew him toward the front of the condo. When Heath reached the kitchen, crouching and taking cover behind a pony wall, he peeked over and around the corner. Glass lay everywhere, littering the area rug, the formal dining table, its leather chairs. Shards glinted in the light as they poked up from the mat in front of the door.

Heath took stock of all the windows in the room and found the culprit. One to his right had been shattered, probably by a projectile, based on the splatter of the glass. An accident? A neighborhood kid with a ball?

He hadn’t noticed many children in this complex seemingly devoted to single, career-minded adults.

Then he caught sight of a rock half under the table. He rushed over, glad he still wore his boots. Had someone pulled a prank? Did the neighborhood have an unexpected vandal element?

Determined to find the answer, he flipped the rock over with the toe of his boot. In red letters, the word BITCH covered the other side.

His blood turned to ice. This wasn’t a poor joke or a local street thug. Someone knew where Jolie worked—and now where she lived—and he had anger and an agenda.

Footsteps echoed behind him. Heath whirled, gun poised, heart pounding. Jolie, wearing a pair of hastily donned yoga pants and a sweatshirt, gasped and froze.

“The police will be here in less than five. What’s going on?”

“Someone seems determined to make a point that they’d prefer you hurt or dead. I won’t have you in danger. Pack a bag. We can’t say here any longer.”

“Where are we going?”

Heath was relieved she hadn’t argued but she asked a viable question. He knew few places in town that were truly secure. The one he could think of made him sigh. “I’ll need to make some phone calls from the car, then I’ll have an answer.”

“I’ll start throwing my stuff in a suitcase.”

She was too smart to argue about staying here, and Heath appreciated her all over again.

“By the time I’m done with the police, be ready to go.”

It didn’t take long for the cops to decide that the rock wasn’t menacing, just likely some prank from a kid in the complex. Heath mentioned the break-in at Jolie’s office but the officer wrote him off. The exhausted cop doubted those two incidents, while unfortunate, were related. Heath’s gut said otherwise but belaboring the point would get him nowhere.

And he was still minus a suspect.

After last night, Heath might have suspected Gardner of retaliating against Jolie for refusing to put out. But not only did vandalism seem childish for a man of his age and social standing, after the split pea soup Heath doubted Gardner was in much shape to threaten anyone. The man’s sister had texted Jolie early this morning to apologize profusely for her brother’s behavior. And apparently, Gardner had gone to the hospital for minor burns in some very sensitive areas. Now he was laid up, loopy on pain killers.

Heath was more than a bit happy. But that left him with a problem. If Richard wasn’t able to vandalize her apartment, who had?

“That cop is an idiot,” Jolie remarked as they shut the door behind the uniformed officer.

“I think somewhere between lazy and lacking imagination would be a more apt description. But I understand. At first glance, these two crimes don’t seem related at all. Different location, different M.O. It could look like a string of bad luck.”

“Until this past week, I’ve never had any occasion to call the police. My only brush with them has been a speeding ticket.”

Heath grunted. No sense in staying here to discuss this potential threat. They only made themselves easier targets for whatever might come next. “Let’s go.”

After gathering the few things he’d brought in a duffel bag, they drew the blinds, patched up the broken window with a discarded cardboard box and some heavy-duty strapping tape, locked up, and headed out. As soon as Jolie backed out of her parking spot, Heath got to work on his mobile.

Sean answered after the third ring. “Can’t really talk. I’m at the hospital. Callie has gone into labor for real.”

And the last thing Thorpe and Sean needed now was for them to park danger inside Dominion, their club. Besides, while Jolie had been receptive to him tying their ankles together for sleep, he didn’t see her accepting medical tables, ponytail anal plugs, or whipping posts quite so easily.

“I need a safe house. Jolie’s place has been compromised. Any ideas?”

After a long pause and

some shuffling of the phone, Sean returned to the line. “Yeah, Axel is out of the country, and Thorpe has the keys to his place. It’s quiet, out of the way. It should have all the creature comforts. Swing by here to pick up the keys.”

Heath memorized the address Sean rattled off. “We’ll be there as soon as we can.”

“We’ll probably still be waiting for this baby. It’s been a long few hours already.”

Heath frowned. “Is Callie all right?”

“If cursing Thorpe and me then crying all in the same ten minutes is normal, then she’s perfect.”

He had no clue. “Good luck, mate.”

The second he hung up, Jolie turned to him with a frown. “What’s wrong with Callie?” As she pulled up to a red light, she dug into her purse and pulled out her phone. “Damn it, she texted me forty minutes ago to say she was in labor. We have to go.”

Jolie sent back a quick reply, then took off when the light turned green.

“I’ll be running in to pick up a key, then we’re leaving the hospital.”

Before he’d even finished speaking, Jolie was shaking her head. “No, we’re not. I want to be there for Callie. She has no other family and she’s one of my few female friends. Most other women call me a bitch because I’m assertive and I don’t wear my insecurities on my sleeve. I promised her. I won’t let her down.”

“Danger could be following you.”

“I’ll be in a well-monitored facility where nothing will happen. I’m going to support my friend, hold her hand if she needs.” She pressed her lips together mulishly.

Heath cursed under his breath. He supposed he should be mad as hell that she didn’t want to do as he demanded for the sake of her safety. But he liked her loyal streak. It seemed nearly as long as her stubborn streak. He didn’t relish the idea of having to be constantly vigilant in public but that was part of being a bodyguard. He didn’t love her choice but he understood and respected it.

“All right, then. But you’ll do what I say, when I say, without question. It could be the difference between life and death. Am I clear?”

“Of course.”

Minutes later, they pulled up in front of the hospital. Jolie had barely killed the engine before she vaulted out, grabbed her purse, and dashed to the maternity ward. Heath had to sprint to keep up.

Once they reached the waiting room, he spotted Thorpe and Sean pacing.

Jolie skidded to a stop in front of them. “How is she? What’s going on? Will they let you back with her? Is there a problem?”

Sean turned, face gentle. “No. She sent us out here to find you and bring you to her room.”

“Are you certain you want to do that?” Heath looked at Sean pointedly. “Someone has Jolie on their radar.” He summarized the incidents that had taken place over the past few days.

“None of that is life threatening. Trust me, man. It’s in our best interest to keep our pregnant wife happy.”

“Or she’ll never let us come near her again.” Thorpe rolled his eyes with an indulgent smile.

“Thank you. I want to see her,” Jolie insisted.

Heath shrugged. Looked as if emotion was trumping logic today. “Lead the way . . .”

***

WHEN they reached the birthing suite, Jolie darted around Sean and Thorpe to Callie’s side. “Hi. How are you doing?”

“I’m uncomfortable and scared as hell. But I’m so ready to hold my baby.” Somehow, even with her face scrubbed clean and looking as if she hadn’t slept all night, Callie was still beautiful. She balanced a cup of ice chips on her belly and had the remote control for the TV in her hand.

“How long have you been here?”

“Since three this morning. Apparently I’m dilating slowly. The doctor should come in to break my water in the next few hours, now that I’m at a five.”

“So you’re really having this baby today?”

“It looks that way. I don’t know how much more I can expand to accommodate my growing little dynamo. The doctors think he or she will weigh about eight pounds. I don’t care whether it’s a boy or girl. I just want a healthy baby.”

Jolie already knew Callie wanted the gender to be a surprise. But what amazed her was the woman’s calm. Her life was about to change forever.

“I’ll be here with you for as long as you need me.”

Callie teared up. “Who knew that asking someone where a pregnant girl could find a yoga mat would lead me to such a great friend?”

“I’m glad you asked me. If it hadn’t been my first class, too, I might have known the answer.”

They laughed, then Callie winced and grabbed her belly, breathing in a practiced pattern with Jolie during the next thirty seconds. Finally, her friend sighed, her whole body going lax, then she looked at her men. “The contractions are coming about every five minutes. They’re getting more intense.”

They each rushed to one side and took her hands. Jolie could feel the palpable love between the trio.

“We’re here, lovely,” Sean murmured. “Those marriage vows said forever, and I meant it.”

“I know, babe.” Callie smiled faintly. “You both have been the best.”

Thorpe leaned down to kiss her forehead. “You’re doing well with your breathing.”

She nodded. “I’ve been practicing.”

“Good. Sean will work through it with you. I’ll be behind you to help you push.”

The nurse came in then, frowning at the trio as if she still didn’t quite understand the relationship and didn’t want to ask too many questions. She monitored Callie’s vitals, took some blood, then returned with a clipboard.

“I’ve been sent to begin the birth certificate process. The exact spelling of your name?”

Callie answered, and the young woman froze, star struck. “The heiress Callindra Howe?”

“That one,” Callie confirmed.

Jolie wasn’t surprised by the nurse’s reaction. Unless someone had been living under a rock, they’d heard the story of the little rich girl who’d run away after supposedly killing her family as a teenager. She’d been wanted for years and fought hard to prove that someone else had murdered her loved ones. When Jolie had first met the woman, she’d been shocked, too. But since then Callindra had just become Callie to her, and they’d turned into great friends.

“Yes. I’m Callindra Howe Mackenzie now.”

“Wow. Nice to meet you. So the baby’s last name will be Mackenzie?”

Callie shook her head. “Mackenzie-Thorpe, please.”

The nurse, who looked just out of school, glanced between the two men. “Father of the baby?”

Thorpe stepped in then, his expression a subtle but effective warning. “We’ll be swabbing the baby after birth to determine that. If you need anything else, ask Mr. Mackenzie.” He pointed to Sean, holding Callie’s hand across the bed. “Or me. I’m Mitchell Thorpe.”

The wary nurse heeded his warning undertone to stay away from Callie. “I-I think that’s enough for now. We’ll complete the form once the child is born and tested. Excuse me.”

When the flustered woman backed out of the room, Callie scowled. “Mitchell, behave. She was just doing her job.”

“Not very politely, pet.”

Callie sighed. “I knew it was going to be awkward. London Santiago warned me since she’s also got two husbands.” She turned to Jolie. “They recently had a baby girl, so she gave me some pointers.”