Chapter Fourteen
Ginger had been sipping a mug of coffee in Derek’s kitchen and staring off into space for close to an hour when Willa startled her by coming out of the spare bedroom. Ginger glanced at her sister, then quickly averted her eyes, positive everything that transpired the night before showed on her face. And even if she tried to hide the myriad emotions fighting their way out of her chest, she’d never been able to hide a damn thing from Willa.
He’d left without a word.
As she’d lain there awake wondering what kind of awkward morning-after speech Derek had prepared, he’d left his bedroom—to take a shower, she’d assumed—and never returned. Waltzed right out the front door, leaving her wearing nothing but her birthday suit in his bed. She’d sat up like a shot at the realization that he’d left, surprised to find she would have preferred the awkward speech in exchange for how she now felt. Empty, exposed.
A little used.
She resented being made to feel that way. He wasn’t required to tell her she was special or cook her an omelet, but anything would have been preferable to silence. Silence could be interpreted to mean too many things. Maybe now that he’d gotten what he wanted from her, leaving without saying good-bye had been his way of gently nudging her toward the door.
Well, she’d be more than happy to oblige him.
Ginger grabbed her mug and went to rinse it out in the sink, giving her an excuse to turn her back. She felt the hot sting of tears behind her eyes, but blinked them away and focused on what needed to be done.
“Good news, sis,” she called over her shoulder. “I called Lenny and since it’s going to take a while to repair our place, he’s letting us move into a vacant unit upstairs. I was thinking of browsing the local swap meet for pieces today, but I think I’d rather get a jump start on moving out of here and into the other place.”
She didn’t need to turn around to see Willa’s confusion. It made no sense, swapping one temporary home for another. All she knew for certain? She needed to get out now. This moment. She didn’t know how to explain that to Willa, though. Or herself for that matter.
“Why the rush? Why don’t we just stay here instead of moving twice?”
“No reason,” she said quickly. “Just want our own space.”
The long pause that followed made Ginger’s shoulder blades itch. “Are you sure it doesn’t have anything to do with last night?”
Ginger tensed, then began cleaning the coffee mug for the third time. “What do you mean?”
“You and the lieutenant weren’t exactly quiet about it,” Willa said jokingly. “But hey, if you want to hit him and quit him, that’s fine by me. We’ll leave today.”
Ginger’s stomach plummeted to the floor. No, please, no. She’d been careful, hadn’t she? They’d been in the farthest room in the house. Had she been so caught up in the moment that she’d actually woken her little sister? Just like… She couldn’t let the thought fully form or she would be ill.
Slowly, she turned from the sink to face her sister. “Oh God, Willa.”
Her sister’s smile disappeared and she came toward her with hands outstretched. “Ginger, come on. I was just kidding. Your side of the bed hasn’t been slept in and you’re sitting there stewing, so I took a wild guess. But I didn’t hear anything. Honestly.”
Ignoring Willa’s attempts at denial, she breezed past her toward the bedroom.
“I’m going to pack. We’ll be out of here today. I promise.”
…
“I’d appreciate any information you can pass on.” Derek lowered his voice as he strode down the hallway toward his apartment with a bag of groceries under his arm Monday evening. Adjusting the cell phone against his ear, he repeated the information. “Haywood Devon. Owns a few strip clubs in Nashville, among his other enterprises. I’m specifically interested in any connection he has with a Valerie Peet. Thanks.”
Derek walked through his door and came to a stop. Staring down at the spare set of apartment keys resting on his kitchen counter, an uncomfortable feeling spread through his chest. He’d given Ginger the set when she and Willa moved into the spare bedroom Saturday night. Obviously at some point between Sunday morning and now, they’d left. Without giving him a courtesy call or leaving a simple note.
A muscle flexed in his jaw as he set down his phone a bit too heavily on the counter. He supposed he couldn’t expect a courtesy call from Ginger when he’d neglected to do the same. Every time he’d picked up the phone to call her, he’d hung up, not knowing how to say what was on his mind. He had very little experience expressing his feelings to a woman, especially a woman like Ginger whose reactions he could never predict. No, what he wanted to say would need to be said face-to-face.
Derek hadn’t slept or eaten a decent meal since Saturday night and until just now, when he walked through the door, he hadn’t realized how much he’d needed Ginger to be here when he got home. Work had been hell now that Alvarez’s informant had finally come through with information about a meeting between the two feuding gangs that was set to take place tomorrow night. He’d worked around the clock to get his men in place, organizing the raid and casing the location of the meet so they would know the lay of the land going in.
Those bastards were going down tomorrow night.
For two days, when he wasn’t strategizing or running back and forth to police headquarters to brief the chief of police on their progress, he’d thought of Ginger nonstop. Every time he earned a quiet moment, she materialized in his mind looking like she had Sunday morning in his bed. Rosy and naked, snuggled into his pillows. The image was permanently seared into his brain and refused to fade. He didn’t want it to.
She’d been a virgin. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Besides her age, an age when most woman had accumulated a decent number of partners, the way she moved, smiled, breathed—it oozed sensuality. He’d hated every man who’d made her that way, even though her outrageously sexy demeanor undeniably drew him in. He couldn’t fathom a woman like Ginger, who left men drooling in her wake, making it to twenty-three without having been with a man.
He’d been her first. The first man to enter her body and bring her to orgasm. He could still feel the way she’d tightened and shook around him so powerfully, as if she’d been waiting for him all that time, needing him fill her and satisfy her. God, he’d never forget the way she’d moved and twisted on him like she couldn’t get enough.
The things he’d said to her, done to her when she’d been inexperienced intruded on his conscience. If he’d known from the beginning that she was a virgin, would he have still spoken to her in that manner?
Yes, he realized. If that made him a bastard, so be it. Innocent or not, he found keeping himself in check around Ginger impossible, her positive reactions only encouraging him.
When he told her she’d ruined him, he meant it. He couldn’t go back to the time before he knew what she tasted like, felt like, sounded like as he moved inside her. He’d changed her irrevocably on Saturday night and she’d done the same to him.
If she was trying to send him a message by leaving behind his keys and moving out without a word, he didn’t like it. It made him anxious. An unfamiliar feeling for him. Something about the keys tossed so casually on the counter felt final. And their association was far from over.
Derek threw the entire bag of groceries in the refrigerator to deal with later and left the apartment. He strode down the hall to Ginger’s door and knocked briskly.
A minute later when no one answered, he went to knock again when a throat cleared down the hall to his right. He turned and saw Willa standing halfway up the staircase, looking down at him with her default what the f*ck expression. “You knocked?”
He looked between her and the apartment door. “What are you doing upstairs?”
She inspected her nails. “We moved into an empty unit until they can fix ours.”
What the f*ck? “Why?”
She shrugged in response.
Clearly, he would get nowhere with Willa this century. “Is your sister home?”
“Nope.”
“Where the hell is she?”
“On a date.”
Derek’s chest constricted so unpleasantly he couldn’t breathe for a moment. Then he grew furious. A date? A f*cking date? He’d find out where the hell she’d gone and with whom. Then he’d go there and kill the motherf*cker.
He gripped the doorframe and contemplated ripping it off.
“Relax, man. She’s just working at the bar. But for a second there, I bet you probably wished you’d called her at least once since Sunday.”
The relief staggered him. If he thought he’d been possessive of Ginger before, it had just graduated to an entirely new level. A dangerous one. He needed to see her, but under the circumstances it would be wise to give himself some time to cool off. In his present state, he wouldn’t be able to have a rational conversation about why she’d moved out. He’d only make things worse.
He took a deep breath and forced himself to smile. “Nicely done, Willa.”
She gestured for him to follow her up the stairs. “I try.”
When Derek walked into the third-floor apartment, he encountered Ginger everywhere. Her cowboy boots leaning up against the wall, various furniture pieces she’d decorated, the damn statue. How had they gotten that thing up the flight of stairs? The smaller two-bedroom smelled like freshly dried paint and lacked the homey feel of their downstairs apartment. It felt temporary, with scattered furniture and boxes stacked everywhere. Did she really prefer this situation to his apartment? The thought bothered him a great deal.
He turned to Willa. “So she left because I didn’t call her?”
“Partially.”
“Ginger is a grown-up,” he said with a frown. “She doesn’t need me holding her hand.”
She rounded on him, reminding him of her sister. “That’s right. She is a grown-up and has been for a very long time. She’s also a girl.”
What did that even mean? Derek tried to suppress a rising sense of panic and failed. “Wait. You said partially. Why else did she leave?”
Willa sank down in a kitchen chair with a heavy sigh. “It’s partly my fault. I let her think I’d heard you guys, um, doing your thing on Saturday night. I didn’t,” she added quickly. “I just wanted her to fess up. It was obvious that something happened. She was acting funny.”
He stared at her, unable to believe he was having this conversation with a seventeen-year-old. Then he remembered Ginger begging him at the door to be quiet so her sister wouldn’t hear them. He hadn’t recalled her vehement request until just now. “Why is it…such a huge issue for her?”
Willa looked uncomfortable, like she didn’t want to answer. She buried her face in her hands with a groan. “Oh, for f*ck’s sake. It’s like I’m doomed to talk about this all day. Ginger and I were fine until you two a*sholes came along.”
Derek bristled. “What are you talking about? There’s someone else? You said she was working, dammit.”
She waved off his question. “There’s no one else. I’m talking about my…this guy…never mind. You need to get yourself under control, man.”
“Explain.”
Willa stood, pacing around the table toward the window. “Ginger would have an issue with me hearing you guys because of our mother. She used to turn tricks in our living room.”
His face paled. “Shit.”
“Yeah. Shit.” She stared out the window, her back to Derek. “Ginger used to stuff cotton in my ears and blast country music to drown it out. She knew how much it upset me. That’s why she has an issue with it now. She doesn’t realize it only bothered me back then because I didn’t understand it. To her, it’s just plain black and white.”
Derek had seen Valerie Peet’s criminal record, not that he could tell Willa that. He’d known Ginger’s childhood had more than likely been rough. Obviously, he hadn’t even scratched the surface. Rage flowed through him just imagining two young girls being subjected to something so awful. Indeed, Ginger had been required to grow up at a very young age.
He sat down heavily in the kitchen chair vacated by Willa. “I still feel like I’m missing something.”
She faced Derek across the table. “Our mother…she’s complicated. Sometimes her johns would stick around for a few days. They’d make promises to her and then bail once the drugs dried up. She’d get depressed, go on a drinking binge.” Willa plopped onto the back of the couch, crossing her arms over her middle. “I think you care about my sister, Lieutenant, so I’m going to drop some knowledge on you.”
He managed a nod.
“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you how attractive Ginger is. But so was our mother at one time. And Ginger’s biggest fear has always been becoming our mother.”
“Impossible.”
Willa made a sound of agreement. “Still. It’s the real reason she doesn’t date. She watched men use our mother and discard her like yesterday’s trash her whole life. So you see, you literally could not have f*cked up more by bailing and not calling Ginger for two days.”
Derek’s throat felt banded by steel. Jesus, how could he not have realized this? She’d needed words, assurances from him, and he’d left without even saying good-bye. And, worse, stayed away while he let his work consume him without sending her so much as a text. Of course she’d feel insecure about where they stood. He’d given her no reason to feel otherwise. But what would he have said?
Thanks for the hottest f*ck of my life, baby. Let’s do it again as soon as I get home from work. Twice.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Just as she’d been innocent of men, he lacked experience being in an actual relationship.
If he didn’t want to lose her, he needed to figure it out. Fast.
He just hoped like hell it wasn’t too late.
“I’ve got to get out of here.”
“I thought you might.”
…
“Aw, come on now, sugar tits. I’ve been tipping you all night. Show me something.”
Ginger ignored the light-beer-drinking Neanderthal she’d nicknamed Nacho addressing her from the end of the bar, completely unaware of the tortilla chip stuck to his shirt. Subtly, she checked for the security guards in the crowd, hoping they’d come remove this guy quick. She’d alerted them over ten minutes ago that one of her customers needed tossing out, but they appeared to have forgotten or just plain blown her off. Any other night, she would brazen it out. Banter with the sorry f*cker until he walked away or got too drunk to respond. It would probably even entertain the other patrons and increase her tips.
But he’d caught her on a bad night. A real bad night. And honestly, she could think of nothing more satisfying right now than gulping down each of her customers’ drinks shotgun-style and line-dancing on the bar.
What the hell is this techno music about anyway? Everyone’s just pretending to like it, right?
“Baby, you look mad. Don’t be like that.”
Ginger squeezed her eyes shut, wishing Neander-Nacho hadn’t called her baby. It reminded her of Derek and their one-night stand. Their truly amazing one-night stand that would never be repeated, obviously, since he hadn’t bothered to call or stop by once since it had happened. Seemed pretty damn clear where they stood.
The fact that she’d been a virgin probably scared the hell out of him, made him run for the hills thinking she’d be all clingy. Ready to go eat brunch and pick out a puppy.
Fat chance. She ate breakfast, or she ate lunch. The two had no business being combined.
Apart from Willa finding out, Ginger refused to regret it, though. In fact, when she saw Derek again, she might even wink and blow him a kiss. Just to let him know how much non-regretting she was doing.
She’d known from the beginning where this thing between Derek and her was headed and she’d gone there willingly. Eagerly. Sans panties, even. She didn’t want a relationship with him. With anyone. So why had her bravado deserted her when she needed it most? She couldn’t stop moping around like one of the characters in some scripted teen drama. Frankly, she was kind of embarrassed for herself.
It reminded her too much of someone. She’d been avoiding admitting it, but thanks to Neander-Nacho’s antics, she’d started hanging streamers and blowing up balloons at her own pity party. She glanced up from the cash register and caught sight of herself in the mirror behind the bar. The dull, defeated girl she saw there terrified her.
“Sweetheart, I’m talking to you. Not that I don’t mind seeing you from behind.” High fives, the clinking of glasses against one another.
Dull and defeated, my ass.
Ginger spun around and approached the jackass who no longer deserved a nickname. She spoke loud enough for anyone within earshot to hear. “Listen, you ignorant bastard, I have some news for you. There are literally dozens of loser, backward-hat-wearing, fart-joke-telling sons of bitches exactly like you in this establishment right now. You are not unique in any way. In fact, you are boring the shit out of me with your predictability. So finish your goddamn drink and pack it up.”
Then she picked up his untouched shot of tequila and tossed it back, reveling in the burn as it flowed down her throat.
The handful of patrons who could hear her tirade over the pounding music applauded and whistled for her. Even the guy’s friends poked him, repeating the highlights of her put-down. He didn’t look happy about it in the least. His face turned bright red, his fist clenching on the bar. Slightly alarmed, Ginger turned back around, intending to call for security once more.
A hand banded around her bicep, yanking her backward. The wooden bar bit into her upper back and her leg slammed into a sharp corner of the ice bin. She struggled to pull her arm from his hand to no avail. His friends shouted at him to let go, but his grip merely tightened.
“You’re a whore!” He yelled against her ear. She flinched at the volume of his voice. In a panic, she swung her eyes to the other end of the bar, where Amanda jogged toward her wide-eyed, dropping the drink she’d been pouring on the way to reach her.
Suddenly Ginger’s arm ripped free of his grasp and she slumped to the floor, hidden from view behind the bar. A loud crash, followed by shouting coming from the dance floor, had her scrambling to her feet.
Ginger’s eyes widened. Derek stood behind Nacho, gripping him around the throat with murder in his eyes.