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The man looked into his eyes for a long time, then finally turned when Megan approached from behind and said, "It's okay, Derek, I'll talk to him."
Derek's lips thinned to a straight line, but he stepped back and let Megan into the opening of the door. His heartbeat actually picked up when he saw her. Freshly showered and wearing a pair of jeans and a scoop neck T-shirt in light pink, she looked sweet and innocent. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail on the top of her head, its thick auburn length sweeping over her shoulder—the ends curling perfectly at the tip just above her breast.
"Morning." Her voice sounded rested but a bit raspy. Probably from all the smoke yesterday.
"Good morning. Wonder if we might have a little chat."
"I don't know where Way—”
Holding up a hand to stop her, he cut her off. "I don't want to talk about Waylon. But, we do need to either go inside or out back where we're hidden from the street."
"Why?"
"Honey, you're in a bit of trouble here, and I'd like to help you. Do you actually know who Marcus is?"
He saw her swallow hard but still hesitate. "He's been driving past this house every twenty minutes most of the night. There were about two hours where he didn’t, but otherwise, he's watching this place, and that means if we're standing here, he'll see both of us."
She stepped back and allowed him to enter the house. Behind him, she twisted a deadbolt lock on the door and then motioned for him to follow her to the kitchen.
"Can I get you some coffee?"
"Naw, I've had quite a bit over the night."
"I saw your truck outside all night. Why did you stay outside and watch the house? I told you Waylon wouldn't come to me."
"Because I had a sneaking suspicion you needed someone watching out for you. Marcus is eager to watch you, and from what I've been able to gather from my contacts, he's dangerous."
Chapter8
"How dangerous?" She asked the question, but she knew or had a pretty good idea. Waylon stole something from Marcus and knowing Waylon, it was either money or drugs, and she'd bet her next month's paycheck it was drugs. Waylon, for all his faults, always thought if he could just get a chance, he'd be big time. No matter that big time for Waylon was still doing something illegal. He dreamed of running a crew and making more money than he could ever spend. Highly unlikely; the man spent every penny that passed through his hands.
"He's suspected of being involved with the El Pablo Cartel in Medellin, Mexico. They’re a rival faction to the Medellin Cartel and stupid enough to think they can take over drug operations down there. The Medellin Cartel is deadly, well ingrained in the system, and owns more cops and court officials than a mathematician can count, so it's highly unlikely."
She swallowed. Well, now that was more than she knew or cared to know. "Um ..." Licking the dryness away from her lips, she looked into his eyes. Dark and mysterious, he could look totally menacing and damned sexy at the same time. His dark hair held a sheen to it and her fingers itched to touch it. As he stood here before her, he exuded a raw power and strength. He'd been sitting in a truck all night, yet he didn't look bedraggled and worn. His strong jaw once again held that hint of a shadow from not shaving, which added to his mysterious image.
"Well, I guess I'm not surprised that Waylon would be hooked up with someone like that. But, I'm not going to lie, it scares me and pisses me off at the same time."
"Here's the thing, Megan. With or without knowing it, he's dragged you into it. Marcus isn't likely to stop following you. I'm not a hundred percent certain he didn't set your house on fire. I don't know who did, but I'll bet you someone did. So, you've got a potential drug cartel following you, maybe trying to hurt or kill you. Do you have a plan moving forward?"
Jolie stepped into the kitchen, a towel wrapped around her hair. She wore jeans and a loose-fitting top, but she looked fresh and wholesome. Her blue eyes landed on Ford, and Megan watched her friend look him from head to toe without saying a word. When she turned, Jolie looked her way, brows high in the air and a slight smile on her lips. She could see the wheels turning.
"Good morning." Stepping toward Ford, she held her hand out. "I'm Jolie."
"Ford."
They shook hands, and Jolie walked to the coffeepot, giving her a sidelong glance that said far more than words ever could. Ford was sexy. He filled the kitchen with more than just his physical presence. He had an authority about him that couldn't be denied. It was comforting, like a warm blanket wrapping itself around her shoulders.
"So, I got up a few times during the night and noticed your truck sitting a couple of doors down. What's up?"
She leaned against the counter, coffee cup raised to sip, eyes locked on Ford’s.
He straightened and slipped the first two fingers of each hand into his front jeans pockets. "I was just talking to Megan about that. She needs to be in a safe house, out of sight and safe until authorities can figure out who set her house on fire and find Waylon June."
Jolie lowered her coffee cup and turned toward her. "They know it was arson?"
"No. Ford just thinks so."
"We'll know soon enough, and I have a call into the fire department. I'd bet my life on it."
