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I turn to the beautiful woman with blue hair and smile. “I aim to please,” I tell her. “Get inside.”
This time Gia goes without argument. “So, what are you?” she says with the beginning of a smile. “Some kind of white knight?”
I close the door and lock it behind me. “I’m nobody’s hero, Gia,” I tell her, trying to avoid staring at the swing of her hips and the way she sashays to the kitchen in shorts too small for public consumption.
“What do they want with you?” I ask. I’m not sure if I can trust her yet, but it’s my duty to try.
She shrugs. “I have no fucking clue. In fact, I have no clue about anything that’s happened over the past few days. No one knows about my computer skills, but I already told you that.”
“You did,” I agree carefully. “But those guys who broke in here? They were Iron Kings, Gia. Bikers. And they didn’t show up on bikes. They came in a van, and there’s only one reason to do that.”
She folds her arms defensively and gives me that look that says she doesn’t care, but her hands tremble slightly, and the pulse in her throat is beating like hummingbird wings.
“Enlighten me.” Before I can answer, she turns to the fridge and pulls out a water filter jug.
I watch as she pours two tall glasses of water with hands still shaking and offers me one.
“To kidnap you,” I tell her easily as I accept. “Best case scenario, they keep you somewhere to hack into places for them. Worst case, they turn you out and use you up until you kill yourself.”
“Well, shit,” she says with a sigh and drops down onto a kitchen chair. “Don’t sugarcoat it or anything, handsome.”
“I won’t.” I smile. The panty-melting one.
Gia motions for me to sit. “All right, then. Thank you for saving me from what sounds like a hellish existence. More than my current one anyway.”
I lean forward, intent on getting her attention. “Gia, I need you to be honest with me. Tell me why the Kings are so interested in you so I can help.”
She eyes me carefully, trying to figure out if she can trust me. I see the wariness swimming in those honey-brown eyes. “Who says I need your help?”
I smile. “The fact that you’re still here and not strapped to a bed in some flop house being pumped full of heroin, for starters.”
“Okay, I’ll give youthatone. What else?”
I laugh ruefully and shake my head. “This is no laughing matter, Gia.”
“If I don’t laugh about it, I’m going to cry, and my eyeliner looks too fucking good today.” She looks to the living room and sighs. “I have to clean this up before my mom gets home.”
I finish the glass of water and stand, holding my hand out to her. “Let me help since I’m partially responsible for the mess.”
“Partially?” She laughs. “You kicked their asses and literally wiped the floor with one of them. It’s the only reason I’m accepting your offer instead of making you clean it all up on your own.”
I shake my head and pull her into the living room, and then I walk all the way to the other side of the room because I like her. A lot. She’s feisty and sexy, and has a smart mouth, almost as if God took all the ingredients I love in a woman and sent her to me in an irresistible package.
A package I’m not sure I’m ready for.
We get busy setting the living room back to normal. Mostly in silence because I’m trying to figure out if Gia is lying to me—or herself. And Gia? Well, I’m pretty sure her mind is swirling over what almost happened to her today.
The front door opens, and I instinctively reach for my piece and aim it at the front door.
“Holy shit, Preacher, put that away. It’s my mom!”
Gia races to my side of the living room and places herself between my gun and her mother. “What the fuck, dude?”
I grin and holster my gun. “Sorry. I thought I locked that.”
The woman, Gia’s mother, smiles and holds up a set of keys. “It was locked, but I live here.”
“Right. Sorry, ma’am.” I say and return my piece to my waistband.
