Too Wilde to Tame (Wilde Security) Page 4

  “Been nice knowing you, Wilde.”

  Air stalled in his lungs. His chest was frozen, and he gasped, but got no oxygen.

  He’d made it out. Somehow. He’d fucking made it out of that building, that country, and he shouldn’t have. Dustin sure as hell hadn’t.

  “Greer?”

  The sound of his name broke the icy hold panic had on him, and he sucked in a lungful of sweet, feminine-scented air.

  His neighbor stared at him, worry furrowing her brow. “Are you okay?”

  He nodded and managed a choked, “Hurts.” He just wasn’t about to tell her it was his memories hurting him, not his battered body.

  “I know it does.” She winced. “Jesse said you’ll be hurting for a few days, but you should make a full recovery.”

  Wait. Who?

  Greer blinked against the sunlight streaming in through the windows. The words she was saying made sense, but they were all wrong. “Jesse?” He must not have heard her right, his brain scrambled from one too many blows in too short of a time.

  “Your friend, Jesse. The medic? He gave you antibiotics and—”

  “Warrick?”

  “Yeah, that’s his last name. I hope it’s okay he examined you. You refused the hospital and didn’t want me to call your brother, so I didn’t have many other options. If it’s not okay…well, tough shit. He probably saved your life.”

  He shook his head. Maybe if he rattled things around enough in there, this would start making some fucking sense. “Why was Jesse here?”

  “To make sure you weren’t dying. I thought you might have been, so I called for help.”

  Dread prickled along his spine. How the hell did she know Jesse? Unless she was a plant, a sleeper operative put here by the powers-that-be to keep an eye on him.

  He bolted to his feet and drove her backward, pinning her against the wall. He didn’t have a weapon to defend himself, but he damn sure wasn’t about to be caught unaware again.

  Behind him, the dog barked, but he paid it no attention. “Who the fuck are you?”

  She blinked several times, and her complexion lost all color. “I’m…uh, your neighbor. Natalie. I’ve lived across the hall from you for three years. Don’t you remember?”

  “Of course I fucking remember. Who are you working for?”

  “What?”

  “Who. Are. You. Working. For?”

  “I-I don’t understand. I work for a radio station.” Her eyes were wide, but it seemed to be more out of surprise than fear. Probably because she could feel his strength waning and knew he wasn’t much of a threat in his current condition. Damn it. He’d just have to convince her otherwise.

  He tightened his grip and shoved her against the wall again. “Bullshit.”

  The dog lunged, but she made some kind of hand motion at her side, and it stopped short, its barks subsiding into a low throat-rumble of a growl.

  “Let me go, Greer.” Her voice was surprisingly calm, considering her situation.

  “Not until I get some goddamn answers.”

  She suddenly dropped out of his grip. He had her one second, and she was gone the next. Stunned, he looked down to see she’d done a perfect split. She rolled between his legs and came up behind him, hands planted on her hips, a scowl on her pretty face.

  Pretty?

  The thought brought him up short. Yeah, with those dainty features, porcelain skin, and melted caramel eyes snapping annoyance, she was very pretty.

  She shoved at her short cap of hair. “What is wrong with you?”

  Now that he was looking, it dawned on him that she was more than pretty. Gorgeous was a better description. Tall and slender, all legs.

  And, holy hell, that split? It gave him all kinds of erotic ideas, none of which he wanted in his head.

  He clenched his teeth. “Who are you working for? Who’s paying you to keep tabs on me?”

  “Oh my God.” She flopped her arms, and her tone was one of complete exasperation. “I told you, I’m not working for anyone. I’m not spying. I’m. Just. Your. Neighbor. And a ‘thanks for saving my life’ would be nice right about now.”

  He ignored the snark in her tone. “How do you know Jesse Warrick?”

  “I don’t. Yesterday was the first time I ever laid eyes on the man, but apparently we have a mutual friend. Raffi Bristow?”

  Raffi. Gabe Bristow’s younger brother. And Gabe was the commanding officer of HORNET, where Jesse served as team medic. The pieces were starting to fall into place, and he could relax because the picture they showed him seemed to be more coincidence than machination. But, damn, he hated coincidences. They made his skin crawl with unease. “How do you know Raffi?”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “We attended Juilliard together.”

  A half memory, something hazy like from a dream, played through his mind. An angel in ballet slippers…

  “You’re a dancer?” He could barely choke the question out past the tightness in his throat.

  “I was until a knee injury ended my career. Now I teach part-time.” She cocked her head at him. “Are you okay?”

  That was the question of the day. And no. No, he was not okay. In fact, he had to get the hell out of her apartment, get as far away from her as he could. Because she was too damn pretty. And she was a dancer.

  His mother hadn’t sent an angel of death in ballet shoes to collect him. Oh, no. Instead, she was playing matchmaker from beyond the grave.

  Which was so much like Meredith Wilde, it left a bittersweet ache behind his ribcage.

  But he didn’t need a complication like Natalie the pretty next-door neighbor in his life right now. Or ever. “I have to go.”

  …

  Natalie watched him leave, her head spinning. She’d known he was reclusive, so why did it surprise her that he was paranoid to boot?

  Jet still sat in the exact same spot he’d plopped down when she’d given him the hand signal to sit. He stared at her with worried brown eyes.

  “You’re right,” she said to the dog. “I don’t need his brand of weirdness in my life. I will not meddle. I’ve done a good job of keeping that resolution this year, haven’t I? Why break it now? And for him of all people?” She turned away but stopped before taking a step. She didn’t need his weirdness, but Greer was obviously struggling with some demons. She knew a thing or two about demons. Maybe he needed someone like her in his life.

  And Andy. It kept coming back to that. She couldn’t overlook the fact that Andy was somehow involved in what happened to him. Her nephew was part of the reason Greer had been so badly hurt.

  Would Greer hurt Andy in return?

  She closed her eyes, heaved out a sigh. God help her, she just couldn’t leave it alone. She spun on her heel and marched across the hall. She didn’t bother knocking on his door—they were well past pleasantries like that at this point—and shoved it open.

  “The least you could do is say thank—” She stopped short. He stood in the center of his living room, staring at the empty space in silent shock. “—you,” she finished stupidly.

  “Where’s all my shit?” he demanded.

  Dammit, she’d completely forgotten. She cursed herself for letting him walk in here without preparing him first. “Your apartment was ransacked a few weeks ago. I saw two guys go in and called your brother. By the time Reece got here, the men were gone and everything was ripped apart, destroyed.”

  For a second, his big shoulders seemed to sag. But only for a second, because then the anger came.

  “Motherfucker,” he said under his breath. He faced her, and she took a step back at the expression on his face. Not rage, like she’d expected. Not grief. Just…emptiness. Like he was already dead inside and his body just hadn’t gotten the memo yet.

  On impulse, she reached out and touched his cheek because he seemed to need the human contact. She half expected him to feel cold, but he didn’t. He was still a bit too warm. Although his fever had broken, it hadn’t completely vanished. />
  A muscle jumped under her palm before he brushed her away. “Where are my car keys?”

  She dropped her hand back to her side. “I don’t know.”

  “They were in my jacket.”

  “I’m sorry. It was ruined beyond repair. I emptied the pockets before I threw it out. All you had was a wallet, a leather notebook, and a few other things. I didn’t see any keys, but everything’s in a Ziplock bag on my kitchen counter. You can—” She motioned behind her, intending to say he was free to go look, but he was already shouldering past her.

  Oh, this boorishness of his was getting old.

  She gave herself a minute to rein in her impatience before following. He’d had one shock after another lately, and that was the only reason she was letting his attitude problem slide for now.

  In her apartment, he’d already found the bag, dumped it out, and was now sorting through the stuff. He smacked the counter and cursed. “I need to borrow your car.”

  “Are you serious?” Dumb question. He didn’t look like the kind of man who was often unserious. “Uh…no. I don’t think so.”

  “I’ll pay you.” He pulled a stack of bills out of his wallet and counted off a couple hundred.

  Her eyes bugged. Who carried that much cash nowadays? Even weirder, the brightly colored bills he returned to his wallet were definitely not American. If she wasn’t mistaken, she thought she saw Syria printed on one of them. “And risk never getting my car back?”

  “You’ll get it back.”

  “Answer’s still no.”

  He ground his teeth, stuffed the cash back into his wallet, the wallet into his jeans. “I’ll take a cab.”

  “Good luck with that.” He hadn’t had a shower in several days and looked the part of a contagiously ill homeless man. No cabbie in his right mind was going to take him anywhere.

  He gave her a look over his shoulder that could only be described as a nonverbal fuck you, and continued toward the door.

  “Bastard.” She should let him go. No, she would let him go. She was sick of his nasty attitude, and if he thought she could be bullied, he had another thing coming.

  But…

  Andy.

  Dammit.

  “Wait.” She hurried to block his path, ducking under his arm. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go. On one condition,” she added when he gazed down, one eyebrow raised in question. “You need to shower first and let me wash your clothes. I’m not taking you anywhere until you look human again.”

  Chapter Five

  Greer pressed his hands to the tiled wall, dropped his head forward, and let hot water stream down his back, washing away the vaguely mint-scented suds from Natalie’s soap. The shower may help him look human, but he still didn’t feel human. That stain on his soul was an entirely separate problem that no amount of soap and hot water would cleanse. At one time, he had been as innocent as Natalie was. He was sure of it, even though he couldn’t recall what that felt like.

  Jesus, he was being a jerk to her. He knew it but couldn’t seem to stop himself. Every time he opened his trap around her, all the anger he’d kept bottled up inside him for so many years came spilling out.

  She didn’t deserve it.

  He should apologize and thank her for all of her help.

  Or, better yet, he should slip away while she wasn’t paying attention. Asking to borrow her car had been a boneheaded move. He should have taken the damn thing by force. Scaring her was better than getting her involved in the disaster that was his life. The place he had to go was the very last place on earth he wanted to take anyone he cared about.

  Whoa. Cared about?

  He had to dial that shit back. He didn’t even know her. Yeah, there had been times when he’d seen her out walking her dog or passed her in the hallway that he’d entertained the fantasy of a quick and dirty with her—she was a beautiful woman and he wasn’t blind—but fantasy was all it ever was.

  He shook his head. No, he didn’t care about her, specifically. But he did care about innocent people getting hurt, and she was an innocent. She’d almost certainly end up injured or worse if he involved her in his world.

  Greer shut off the shower and stepped out, wrapping a soft towel—pink because of course it was—around his hips without bothering to dry off. He cracked open the bathroom door, glanced up and down the hallway. Her apartment had the exact same L-shaped floor plan as his. The front door opened to a hall and on the left was the guest bathroom and second bedroom. Straight ahead, the hall widened into a kitchen that overlooked the combined living and dining areas, which made up the shorter side of the L. The master bedroom was to the left of the dining area. The laundry room was a narrow utility closet tucked in the corner just beyond the master bedroom’s currently open door.

  The set-up sucked.

  Unless she was in the master bath with the door closed, there was no way he could get to the laundry room, grab his clothes, and sneak off with her car keys without her noticing.

  And force wasn’t an option, even as much as he wished it were. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t the kind of asshole who hurt women.

  So he’d just have to suck it up and ask her nicely. He hadn’t been too polite about it the first time. If he calmly explained why he needed her car and somehow guaranteed she’d get it back, he’d be able to keep her out of harm’s way. That was it. He’d march his ass out there and be the gentlemen his mother had always hoped he’d be.

  But then he walked into the dining room and saw her sitting in the bay window, staring out over the postage stamp of a park behind their apartment complex. Across that little spit of mud was the former strip mall that now housed Wilde Security and a bunch of empty stores.

  Greer froze.

  How many times had she sat there, looking at Wilde Security?

  How many times had he stared out the grimy little window in his office at this building? Or at her as she’d walked her dog through the park? Too many to count.

  She was only sitting there, long legs pulled up to her chest, not doing anything the least bit suggestive, but his reaction to the sight of her was visceral. His stomach clenched and his cock stiffened. The sexual need he’d repressed for too long roared to life, demanding he do something about his recent stretch of celibacy.

  And not just any woman would do. Nope. He wanted this woman. His neighbor.

  All thoughts of being a gentleman flew out the window. He didn’t want to want her and it pissed him off that he did.

  He clenched the towel tighter around his hips and cursed the terrycloth for not offering more cover. “Where are my clothes?”

  “I told you—” She looked at him and her eyes widened, but she didn’t blush or glance away like he expected. Instead, a distinct spark of interest lit her caramel-color eyes as she unabashedly ran her gaze over him. He swore he felt it like a caress down the length of his body.

  Maybe the girl next door wasn’t so innocent after all.

  And, damn, that thought did nothing to help the situation happening behind his towel.

  Natalie uncurled from her seat. “I told you I was going to wash them. I just put them in the dryer. They’re not done yet.”

  “What am I supposed to wear until then?”

  She gave him another up-down and grinned. “The towel looks good on you.”

  It’d look better on the floor. Along with your clothes.

  Jesus. He turned away, annoyed that his thoughts had gone there. He had a mission and he wasn’t going to be distracted from it by the promise of a good fuck.

  It would be good, too. Somehow he knew it right down to his bones. She was the perfect height for him, and they’d fit together like a goddamn puzzle, with her long legs wrapped around his hips…or his shoulders…or—

  No.

  He needed something more to wear, something that gave him a bit more coverage before he did anything he’d regret. “Were all my clothes destroyed?”

  “I don’t know. Your brothers boxed up the few thi
ngs that were salvageable and left them in your bedroom.”

  His brothers had been in his place after the cleaners had finished the job of erasing him. Just the thought of it gave him chills. All of these years, he’d been so careful to keep his black ops world a secret from his brothers. He hadn’t wanted them anywhere near the dark part of his double life.

  Jesus. If one of them had stumbled into his place while the cleaners were working? He’d have one less brother now. Which was exactly why he had to keep away from them. And exactly why he should distance himself from Natalie, ASAP.

  He strode down the hall, flung open the front door, and came face-to-face with the old Korean lady who lived in the apartment next to his.

  She eyed him up and down, then raised a bushy salt and pepper brow.

  He blew out a breath. “This…isn’t what it looks like.”

  She smiled. She was missing several teeth. “I’m eighty-two years old. I know a walk of shame when I see one, young man.”

  “Hi, Mrs. Chan,” Natalie said from directly behind him.

  “Hi, Natalie. Did you have fun last night?”

  “Hardly,” she said, and Greer felt her glare boring into his back.

  Jesus. She was not helping.

  “I need to…” He motioned in the vague direction of his apartment, and Mrs. Chan stepped aside.

  “Yes, run away,” the old woman called after him. “If you haven’t learned how to please a lady yet, there’s no hope for you.”

  Just before his door shut, he heard Natalie’s snort of laughter join Mrs. Chan’s delighted cackles. And the sound the old woman was making was a cackle, too—no other way to describe it but full-on witch. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think Natalie and Mrs. Chan had planned that little run-in for their own amusement.

  He leaned against his door and willed the heat to drain out of his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d blushed, and it pissed him off that he was now.

  Grumbling to himself, he followed the hall to the master bedroom and found a stack of cardboard boxes against one wall. His bed frame was still in place, but the mattress and box spring were gone. His dresser was still there as well, though a little dinged up. Then again, he’d had the thing for as long as he could remember, so the dents and scratches might have been it showing its age and he’d just never paid any attention to them before. He crossed the room in three long strides and pulled open the top drawer, relieved to see several pairs of boxers there. Someone had folded them—probably Reece, because he couldn’t see any of his other brothers taking the time to fold underwear. He grabbed a pair at random and pulled them on, discarding the towel.