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"His stash?"
"He won't let you go in there." Looking as sappy as he possibly could, he shrugged. "I immediately thought drugs."
"He's never used drugs around me." She chewed her lower lip nervously, then pointed to the sink. "You see the problem."
He whistled. The sink was full of viscous, opaque water that was, indeed, disgusting. She moved to the refrigerator and took out two beers, uncapping one for each of them. They toasted to unclogged drains, then he went to work with a plunger.
She hopped up onto the countertop so she could face him while he worked. Her bare heels rhythmically tapped the cabinet door. She rolled the rim of the beer bottle across her lower lip.
She was laughing at something Dodge had said when her breath caught and she strangled out the name "Franklin!"
CHAPTER
25
THE SON OF A BITCH HAD BEEN AS SILENT AS A PANTHER. Dodge hadn't realized Albright had returned until he was there. But in fairness to himself, the oscillating movement of Crystal's unfettered breasts beneath the bright red shirt had been a distraction.
Albright snarled as he grabbed her messy topknot and yanked her off the counter. He pulled the bottle of beer from her hand and hurled it into the wall. Broken glass and beer showered them. Still holding Crystal by her hair, Albright shook her like a terrier with a rat and called her a cunt, then sent her reeling into the table, on which lay a wrench, purchased just that afternoon. Albright snatched it up and applied it to Dodge's head.
Or tried. If not for Dodge's excellent reflexes, honed even sharper by years of street fighting and police training, he'd probably have been brained with the wrench. Instead he ducked just in time to catch the tool on his shoulder bone, which hurt like bloody hell but wasn't a lethal blow.
Albright threw down the wrench and attacked Dodge's face with his bare fists.
Ordinarily Dodge would have fought back and probably killed the guy, but he was role-playing. Marvin wasn't supposed to have deadly fighting skills. It was hard to take a beating and do nothing. Dodge's restraint was really tested when Albright flicked open a switchblade, grabbed Dodge by the hair--he must like hair--and pulled Dodge's head back, exposing his throat and nicking the thin flesh over his Adam's apple with the tip of the blade.
"You ever come near her again, I'll slit your throat. You sabe me, Marvin?"
Dodge had no doubt the felon meant what he said and wanted to take him out right then and save the taxpayers of Texas a lot of expense. Because this guy was bad, and eventually he'd wind up convicted of killing somebody, possibly this misled girl, who had bad judgment but didn't deserve to die for it.
However, they didn't have solid evidence against him yet, so Dodge rolled his eyes wildly, whimpered, and stammered that he understood the warning.
Albright released him, spun him around, and kicked him in the kidney, which sent him flying out the back door. He fell facefirst onto the driveway and skidded a few inches, leaving a trail of his skin on the concrete. Then he crawled to his car.
He made it home without passing out. But by the time he got there, every cell in his body was throbbing in agony. Upon seeing him, Caroline actually screamed and dropped a folder of paperwork. Real estate documents scattered unheeded across the living room floor. Moving with as much alacrity as her eighth month of pregnancy would allow, she rushed toward him.
Words tumbling off her lips, she demanded to know what had happened, how badly he was hurt, if he'd seen a doctor. When he told her no, she said, "I'm taking you to the emergency room."
"I don't need to go to the emergency room. Some squirts of Bactine, a few aspirin, I'll be fine in the morning."
"Please let me call an ambulance," she pleaded, practically weeping as she examined his flayed face.
He refused by adamantly shaking his head, which made him dizzy. He figured one of Albright's blows had given him a slight concussion.
"It was the Tabu woman's boyfriend, wasn't it?" Caroline asked as she helped him undress.
"Caroline, I--"
"Can't talk about it. I understand. But I know this beating has something to do with her. Her boyfriend didn't like you hugging her any more than I did. He's a criminal, isn't he? No, don't tell me. I know you can't say, but I know he did this. He could have killed you." She began to cry in earnest.
Dodge drew her to him and held her close, painful though it was. "Shh. He didn't kill me. He won't."
"Please don't get killed. If anything were to happen to you--"
"Nothing's going to happen to me."
"How do you know?"
"I know."
