Out Of Control. Shannon McKenna
direction,” he said lamely. “Theoretically.”
Margot’s pointed chin lifted. “Oh. I see. Are you going to attack me, then? Since when am I your opponent?”
“You’re not. You’re absolutely not,” he assured her. “I just said that, without thinking. It was stupid. I didn’t mean to imply…wait. Please. Don’t go yet.” He moved to block her as she sidled around him.
Her brow furrowed. “Hey. Are you deliberately trying to creep me out, or are you just naturally weird?”
He thought about it, and rapidly concluded that he did not want to creep her out. “Just naturally weird, I guess.”
She rolled her eyes. “OK, that’s enough,” she announced. “Out of my way. I’ve got stuff to do.” She dismissed him with a commanding wave of her slender hand.
“Meet me after your class. You can tell me about your problem. Over dinner. If you want.” He blurted out the unpremeditated, ill-considered words, and held his breath for her response.
Her eyes widened, defenceless in her surprise. She wrapped her arms across her chest, and her cleavage deepened. She had a sprinkle of red freckles on her tits. He dragged his gaze away from her chest.
“Who said I had a problem?” Her voice was belligerent.
“People who go looking for a detective always have a problem,” he said. “Tell me. At least the short version. Please.”
Margot stared down at the floor for a long moment, and let out a long, unsteady sigh. “Well…it’s just that I’ve got some sicko stalking me, and it’s freaking me out.” The words came out in a quick, nervous rush. “I just wanted to tell someone. You know. To get another point of view. I’m chasing myself in circles, thinking about it.”
“What happened?” he demanded. “What’s he done so far?”
She twisted her hands together. “I started finding red rose petals on my doorstep, which was strange, but whatever, right? Secret admirer, whoop-di-doo. It’s happened off and on for the last two weeks. Then I got burgled six days ago. Don’t know if that’s connected. But then the other day…” Her voice trailed off. She swallowed.
“What?”
The rough impatience in his voice made her flinch. “The dog. I found a dead dog on my porch. Throat slit. Blood everywhere.”
A cold, dark hole yawned open, somewhere deep in his gut. “What did the police have to say about it?”
She hesitated, and shook her head. “I, um, didn’t call them.”
“Why not?” he demanded. Though he knew damn well why not.
The shadow over her face deepened by imperceptible degrees. Her eyes flicked away. The faint, bluish smudges beneath them made her look haunted. “Look, uh…never mind, OK? I shouldn’t have bothered you in the first place, and I’m late for my class, and you’re not in the business now anyhow, so thanks for your time, but I have to—”
“Tell me the rest of it over dinner,” he urged.
She gave him a long, searching look. “You know…something tells me that wouldn’t be such a fabulous idea.”
Here it was. His chance to back off with his dignity more or less intact. You win some, you lose some, and God knows it was just as well.
“Why not?” he asked baldly.
She looked flustered. “I have to pick up my dog at the kennel—”
“I can wait,” he said. “Do you like Mexican?”
“Sure, when I can get it, but there’s no point in flapping my jaw about my personal problems if you don’t—”
“I’ve changed my mind about not taking on any more cases.”
Startled silence stretched out after his words. Her subtle shadow weighed on him, teasing him like a painful dream that slipped out of reach of conscious thought, leaving sick dread lingering in its wake.
It was a familiar feeling. The cases that he gave a shit about always haunted him. But the haunting didn’t usually start so quickly.
Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Actually, I wasn’t proposing to hire you. The plain truth is, I’m too broke to pay you. I just wanted to bounce it off somebody. My dog is tired of hearing me talk about it.”
“So bounce it off me,” he said. “While we eat.”
She bit her lip, her eyes big and apprehensive. “Your vibes are really intense, McCloud. And it’s been a long day, and I’d just like to relax and hang out with my dog tonight. So thanks for the dinner invite, but no thanks. And you can get out of my way now. Any time.”
“I’ll tone my vibes down,” he said. “I’ll get takeout while you get your dog, and meet you at your place.”
She shook her head rapidly. “Not. You will do no such thing.”
Her withdrawal made him feel desperate, as if a boat he should have boarded was pulling away without him. She tried to slide between him and the wall. He blocked her with an arm in front and one behind.
“Wait,” he pleaded. “Just a second.”
“What the hell?” She lashed out.
He snagged her flailing hand out of the air before she could smack him with it. “Calm down,” he urged. “This is serious. I want to—”
“Don’t you dare touch me!” She flung her knee up.
He spun sideways in an automatic reflex to protect his balls, and ended up pinning her against the wall. It happened so fast, and suddenly his nose was full of her scent, her soft hair tickled his mouth, and her lithe curves were pressed against the full length of his body.
She was trembling. Scared of him.
He let go instantly and backed away, horrified. “Jesus. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. I swear.”
She stared at him, panting. She put one hand over her mouth, then pressed both hands against the hectic blush that stained her sharp cheekbones. He prayed for her not to look down. Tried to hold her gaze like a tractor beam, willing her, don’t look down, don’t look—
She looked down. He was busted. Heat surged up into his face.
“Holy cripes,” she whispered. “You freak.”
“I’m sorry.” He held up his hands. “I didn’t mean to grope you. I don’t know what got into me.”
Her gaze flicked back down to his crotch, and she snorted. “Oh, I think I could maybe take a wild guess.”
He floundered around in his mind for a justification for his bizarre behavior, and found none. “I just didn’t want you to, uh, go away mad.”
She shook with a burst of dry laughter. “Smooth, McCloud. Very smooth. I’ve got a little social tip for you. Remember to take your anti-psychotic meds on schedule from now on, OK?”
The glass window with McCloud Martial Arts Academy stenciled on it rattled in the door frame with the force of her parting slam.
Chapter
3
Mikey was going to make her pay for leaving him at the pet hotel. The extent of his hurt and outrage was evident in the rigidity of his small body as she carried him up the steps to her porch. She braced herself against sick dread as she peeked into the shadows to make sure that something horrible wasn’t draped over her doormat.
Nothing today. Snakey the Sicko Maniac was taking the day off.
Air came slowly back into her lungs as she unlocked the door. She flipped on the urban blight light, a naked dangling bulb specifically designed to highlight