Duke, page 5
But he couldn’t—wouldn’t—and damn it if the silence wasn’t more of hassle this evening than helpful.
“I’ll make a small plate for Sage, wrap it up and leave it on the counter,” Susan said. He almost jumped at her voice. Of course, he didn’t. But he’d been so lost in thoughts about Sage, that once again, his lack of perception angered him. He couldn’t be sloppy. He should’ve sensed Susan was about to talk long before she did, knowing while eating she always wiped her lips with a napkin prior to speaking.
Damn it, maybe taking on Sage’s case hadn’t been his wisest move. Mixing in his personal, unresolved past with the present was proving to be more difficult than he’d ever imagined. He felt himself slipping because of her. Stopping at the gas station was a number one sign he was being lenient with her.
“Like I used to do for you.” Susan drew him back to the present with a wink.
He covered his hand over hers. “I appreciate every single meal you’ve left me over the years.”
“I know. It’s strange how things have changed for both of us so quickly in the last couple weeks. It’s a big change that’s difficult to adjust to.”
Did it look that obvious? Or was she only referring to herself?
“Most nights I wake up ready to check that Bowie hasn’t fallen asleep in her art room and that Reed isn’t passed out on the couch. I wake up early prepared to get the employees their schedule and prepare three meals for them. Then I remember I don’t have to do any of that and I almost feel...lost.” Her heavy shoulders and soft sigh made her appear sad. Duke would bet it was a mixture of the chemo treatments, and exhaustion.
She patted his hand before she stood and reached for Duke’s plate, but he took both his and hers. ”You’ve done enough by cooking us this meal. More than enough. I should be cooking for you.” He walked the dishes to the sink and then turned on the water while doing a visual out the window. Darkness stole the sky. Even the bright moon didn’t light the backyard. The lack of light aggravated him as it made it hard to see the trees lining the property and impossible to see the path to the beach private beach.
He squirted in a gallop of dish soap under the running water and considered sending Stone a detailed list of lights to purchase for him to install the next day. He already had him delivering a load of lumber, what would a few lights hurt?
Duke gathered pots from the stove and utensils from the counter, sliding them into the water.
“You sound like my daughter and Bowie. I may have cancer, but I can still cook, clean ... do whatever I like. Maybe I move a little slower or take more breaks, but I’m not giving up.”
“If you insist on cooking, then I insist on cleaning afterwards.”
“I do insist.” She stuck her chin up in victory. “I’m keeping to a clean diet, so you won’t be getting any of that processed garbage here.”
He took the serving bowl from her as she carried it from the table. “Supper was delicious, thank you. But I have this, so you can go darn some socks or something.” He winked at her and she chuckled as she reached for Sage’s plate.
“I just hope Sage eats something.” She dished out some potatoes and corn onto a plate with a salad. “Have you been updated with more information on Celeste?”
He flung a tea towel over his shoulder, turned to face her, and leaned his hip against the side of the sink watching her load Sage’s plate.
He shook his head. “No.”
“She must be in a frenzy of worry alone in there.” Her concerned eyes travelled to the hallway briefly before resuming her task.
Duke couldn’t think about Sage’s feelings and disrupt his work mode.
No feelings.
No emotions.
No caring.
He was there to protect. His job started and ended with protecting the people he was hired to guard.
“She’s safe in there.” Duke turned back to the hot water and suds waiting for him.
He hoped Sage didn’t come out for the rest of the night and that the day’s events had exhausted her into a deep sleep. But he suspected he wouldn’t be so lucky. She’d fight him. She’d always fought everyone.
“You can’t treat her like any other job,” Susan said.
That was exactly what he planned on doing. The only way to give his full attention to the job.
“She’s not just another client or a random woman.” Susan’s gentle, but firm voice did not soften the blow of realism. Damn it, he knew. Damn it, he was trying hard to ignore it, but he damn well wouldn’t let anyone else know.
“She is my client,” he said in a concrete tone and sunk his hands into the hot liquid to dig out a dirty dish, hoping this conversation would end on that note.
“Do you really think it wise to be sleeping in the same room as her?” Susan asked. He’d never been on this side of her questions in all the years they’d worked under the same household watching her go back-and-forth with all the Blakes. Truthfully, he sure as hell didn’t like his decisions being questioned. After the shit Sage pulled at the gas station his answer was a hard yes.
He turned to face her. “Sage is my job. My decisions are not made without due consideration, so I’d appreciate it if you’d remember that.”
“There’s a past between you two and I don’t believe that past has ever healed.”
“My past doesn’t dictate the actions of my present or future.”
Susan’s eyes softened. “Maybe one day, you’ll face the real demons of your past and open yourself up to the opportunity of a happiness that is right in front you.”
Duke hadn’t shared his history with anyone, and yet, Susan’s assumptions were spot on: he had demons in his past, but she was wrong about facing them. Sometimes nothing good ever came from revisiting the past. What was the point in reliving a time where you couldn’t change the outcome? Just thinking about it now surfaced guilt so forceful his chest constricted, almost swallowing all the air inside him.
“I’ll finish the dishes later.” He tossed the tea towel draped over his shoulder on the counter as he passed Susan and headed toward the back door. He stepped outside not noticing the cool air nip at his damp, bare arms where he’d rolled up his sleeves before diving into the dishes.
Focus, focus.
He filled his head with a list of tasks he could complete right now, but perimeter checks and client confirmation locations were not distracting enough to rid his mind of that night, his family, and the man who’d taken it all away.
His shoes pounded against the ground as he circled the house once, twice ... more than a dozen times in an attempt to shake the remorse slinking through him. An overload of things he should’ve done differently that night, his whereabouts, his actions, his decisions slammed him so hard his feet stumbled. His flat palms landed on the stone wall and he dragged them down until he felt pain. His eyes squeezed shut as images of trailing blood wouldn’t cease. He wanted to shout as loud as he could or punch the wall in front of him, but when he opened his eyes and they adjusted to the night, he saw Sage’s window and his heart slowed until his breathing steadied.
The woman on the other side of this wall was his personal responsibility, and he’d never failed a job. He sure as hell wasn’t about to start now.
Chapter Eight
AFTER HOURS OF being practically kidnapped and caged away, Sage couldn’t handle it any longer. She’d skipped supper to lay on the bumpy mattress on the lower bunk in a bedroom smaller than her walk-in closet at home and her mind hadn’t turned off since.
Would her mom be okay?
Was she still alive?
She wasn’t lying around any longer waiting for the answers.
Soon, the quiet blackness outside the small window drove her to her feet. Her bare toes sunk into the plush off-white area rug covering the painted wood floor. The sounds here were different than the loud horns, engines, and sounds coming through her city windows. She may have even considered it relaxing in any other circumstance, but tonight it only reminded her how far away from her mother she was.
Without a change of clothes, and refusing to change out of her blood-stained clothes into the clothes Susan had offered, she walked across the room to the door and pressed her ear against the wood.
Damn it, Duke infuriated her. How was it possible for him to be more maddening than she remembered? The nerve of bringing her to Bowie’s nanny’s house! What kind of bodyguard had he turned into?
She’d guess the time now was long past midnight and into the early hours of the next morning. She couldn’t be sure since Duke had confiscated her phone leaving her with nothing in this room to tell the time. The stone walls were bare, and the room was furnished with only a bunk bed made from logs and an antique, walnut-colored three-drawer dresser with a mirror above it.
No sounds came from the other side of the door. Maybe Duke had fallen asleep on the couch, as he should. Had he honestly believed she would allow him to spend the night sleeping underneath her?
Her mind fleetingly strayed to recollections of her naked body draped over his, the warmth of her skin radiating, her head lying on his chest listening to his breathing. He’d never actually fallen asleep with her, but there had been times they’d lie together before he’d left to go back to his duty, back to Bowie—it had always come back to Bowie.
She huffed as she bent down and grabbed her heels from the floor. She unlatched the old, six-pane window and cautiously pushed it upwards ever so slightly, listening for the possible loud creaks and crack of immobility. Discovering the window made little noise, she continued pushing up until it left a wide enough gap for her to fit through. She tossed her heels out first and listened as they landed on the ground. The window ledge started above her waist, so she balanced on one foot and lifted the other leg, hiking her skirt up around her waist. Once her foot was through the window, she gripped the ledge and hoisted herself up and over. Her body wobbled as her bare feet hit the cold grass, but she kept herself steady. The walk into town to find a pay phone wouldn’t be that long ... if they even had pay phones anymore. It didn’t matter, either way she’d find a phone at a corner store, or maybe a bar, depending on what time she got into town. She’d locate her mother’s whereabouts and get a ride back into the city.
Blackness greeted her. No streetlights, no vehicle lights, not even the city glow. Only darkness.
Without her eyes adjusted, she felt around the ground for her shoes without success. She hadn’t thrown them that damn far.
“Looking for these?” Duke’s low voice rumbled through the darkness before light shone from his cell phone, directed on her heels dangling from his fingers.
Sage’s hands fisted at her sides. “You take my cell phone, my shoes... what else do you want, Duke? The clothes off my back?”
“Is that an invitation?”
“No!” Sage stormed past him around the corner of the house and toward the back door she’d seen earlier. A dim glow lit the back door enough to see the small deck. The wet grass seeped through her bare feet, sending chills through her body. She almost reached the deck when a piercing pain shot through her foot. She held back a scream, but the pain sent her to her knees. Her fingers felt under her foot and touched warm liquid. Blood. Darn it.
Another pair of hands touched hers, moving them aside. Duke flashed his light under Sage’s heel and without asking permission, slid one arm under her legs and one behind her back, lifting her into the air.
His touch, combined with his woodsy soap smell, and the fact he was protecting her—even knowing it was only for a paycheque—overwhelmed her senses, just as it had at the gas station when he’d tucked her close against his side. He made her want to forget the past, and live in the now, but the now was far worse. He didn’t want to be with her. She was nothing more than a job to him, and dammed if her mind was too foggy and exhausted to keep that knowledge at the forefront of her brain.
“Put me down!”
He didn’t listen to her until he’d carried her into the living room and set her on the sofa.
She lifted her butt enough to yank her skirt as far over her legs as it would cover. “Tone it back a notch, Tarzan.”
He nearly sent her tumbling backwards when he lifted her leg onto the coffee table.
She pulled her foot away from his touch. “Stop.” She crossed her leg over her other, covering the bottom of her foot with her hand to prevent blood dripping on the area rug.
He straightened, towering his massive body above her. The flicker of the warm, orange-colored light danced across the humor on his face. She stared at him unsure what to say or do. She wanted to both run away from him and run into his arms.
“I don’t need you to carry me or wipe away the blood if I get a small cut.”
He folded his arms over his wide chest. “Are we going to try this a third time tonight? I can pull an all-nighter. I don’t want to, but I do what needs to be done for my clients.”
Her heart sunk as if she’d thought for maybe one second he was here for her. “Fine. I’ll stop. I’ll give you my word if you let me make one call.”
“No.”
“Duke?”
“No.”
“Goddammit, Duke!” She stood, not caring about the marks she’d leave on the floor. “My mom was shot. The officer who dropped me off with you literally dragged me away from my bleeding mother and forced me into a car.” She touched her blouse. “This is her blood on my clothes, my skin, everywhere. All I see when I close my eyes is blood and I don’t know if she’s okay.” She watched a flicker of something in his eyes. She didn’t know what, but wasn’t surprised when he covered it up just as quickly. “Let me phone my private doctor and have him get me details of her condition. He can pull strings in minutes. I give you my word that I’ll stay and obey everything you say without defiance, without a complaint. I promise on my mother’s life.”
Duke said nothing, he didn’t usually have to. Just a look from him made a person question their own words. But she could tell he was weighing her bargaining chip.
“I counteract your offer.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Anything.”
“I’ll make one call and if I can get Celeste’s condition, you will follow through with your promise to stay.”
She stepped forward and held her hand out. “Deal.”
“And you’ll clean up the blood on the floor.”
She glanced down at the red spots. “Absolutely.”
“And you treat Susan with respect and kindness for your duration of the stay.”
His never-ending list was starting to tick her off, but she’d do anything for her mother. “Agreed.”
His fingers closed around hers in a firm handshake that made her heart race. He pointed at the sofa. “Now sit down and put your foot up.”
As much as the order irritated her—she could hardly stand still, let alone sit—she did as he said and watched with anticipation as he pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket.
Her breath caught in her lungs and her hands clenched together as she watched him swipe his phone screen and dial a number.
Only a few short seconds later he said, “I want the update on Celeste Ellis’s status.”
The tick-tock sound of a clock on the wall escalated to a deafening hammer. Finally, he looked at her and gave her a curt nod, an assuring—positive nod, like the ones he used to give when doing room sweeps. It meant her mother was alive.
The breath she’d been holding swooshed out of her and she leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes. It felt like the first time she’d been able to breathe all day.
“Sage?” She felt the sofa shift as he sat beside her and she opened her eyes. “Her surgery is over and she’s being monitored with twenty-four-hour surveillance in a private room on the VIP floor.”
“How is she?”
“She’s still on a ventilator.”
Sage covered her mouth. “For how long?”
“Usually it’s just overnight, but if there are any complications they’ll leave it longer.”
“Complications? What kind of complications?”
“Pneumonia, clots in the legs. She also has a chest tube which helps keep the lung inflated, and that could stay in for a couple days up to a week. I’ll call them tomorrow for another update.”
Sage took it all in, scared but feeling reassured, and then she blinked. “Did you say ‘still’?”
“Yes.”
“Still, as in what? You already knew? You called earlier?”
He nodded. “Yes.”
She shook her head trying to work out the timeline. “Wait a minute, you knew my mother’s condition before we shook hands?”
“It’s my job to know.”
Sage swiftly stood up. “You tricked me. You basically lied to me to force me into agreeing to behave for you.”
Duke stood too. “First of all, you’re an adult and it’s a shame that anyone has to ask you to behave.” He turned his back to her as he walked into the kitchen nook.
“Don’t try to spin this around on me. Don’t you mean blackmail?”
“Sit down.” He didn’t bother to look at her as he rummaged through the small cupboards looking for what she assumed would be a first aid kit.
“I knew you were an ass, but I didn’t know you were a manipulative ass.”
He walked back to her holding a first aid kit. He stopped in front of her. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”
Chapter Nine
DUKE ENJOYED THE way Sage’s lips puckered in angry objection but respected her for being honourable enough not to go back on her word.
