She smiled. “I’m pretty sure I can handle some ‘fucks.’ ” And damn if she didn’t wink, knowing full well what she’d just said. Didn’t look his way, though.
“Well, fuck, then,” Marz said, grinning. The guys laughed. Rixey shifted in his seat, her words sending his brain in all kinds of directions it did not need to go. “All right. I just emailed this list to myself. So let’s go do some toy shopping and get this show on the road.”
Chapter 16
“There it is,” Becca said, pointing over the front seat toward Charlie’s house. After nearly three hours of shopping, carting several thousand dollars’ worth of new equipment in, and helping Marz get everything relocated into the back corner of the gym, she, Nick, and Beckett had left Shane and Easy to help get his research station up and running while they’d headed out with the flyers. At least she had savings she could dip into. She’d tucked away most of her share of their father’s life insurance, plus she always added to her savings first when she got paid. Net result was a bigger-than-average rainy day fund. And this situation was the equivalent of a downpour. “Wait. Why are you—”
“Making sure no one’s watching the place,” Nick said, driving by the row house.
“Oh.” As she looked around, nothing appeared to be out of place or suspicious. It was a quiet, empty-feeling street in a run-down neighborhood. Despite the beautiful Saturday afternoon, no one was out walking a dog or playing or sitting on their stoop. Suddenly, the emptiness itself took on a sinister quality, and threat of danger lurked around every corner and behind every parked car. A shiver ran up her spine.
Two streets down, he turned and went around the block back to Charlie’s. He pulled to the curb a few doors down from the house and killed the engine.
Beckett got out of the passenger seat and adjusted it forward for her, even going so far as to offer her his hand.
“Thanks,” she said, grabbing her bag and the flyers and briefly meeting his intense gaze. The guy was downright intimidating, truth be told. But then she remembered he’d held her hair while she’d thrown up . . . A man who’d do that couldn’t be all scary. “Let’s see if Charlie’s landlord is home now. He can let us in his place.”
“That’s fine,” Nick said. “Just, whatever you do, have one of us with you. We’re armed, and you’re not. No going off on your own.” Icy green eyes bored into her. At least he was looking at her and talking to her again. She still had no idea what had happened this morning, why he’d seemed so mad at her. What they’d shared had been amazing. The fact that he’d acted like he regretted it stung. Bad.
“I got it.” In any other situation, she might’ve bristled at his tone, but someone had tried to grab her, after all. Even if he’d been a jerk this morning, a part of her insisted he cared. Why else would he be willing to go to all this risk and trouble for her?
Then there was that moment by the sink. Seeing Marz so full of life despite everything that’d happened to him had overwhelmed her with joy and pride, despite the fact that she’d just met him. And then a stray thought had slithered through her brain. Why didn’t Dad survive, too? Why isn’t he here with me and these guys helping us figure this out? It’s not fair. She’d been so blindsided that tears had come to her eyes before she’d even realized she was going to cry. But no way had she wanted to break down in front of that group of men.
She hopped up the steps to Walt’s door and knocked. Just as she raised her hand to knock again, someone released the locks from the inside and pulled it open.
“Miss Becca?” he said, his light brown eyes flying from her to the two men behind her. His brow furrowed as his gaze settled on the bruise on her forehead. At least the goose egg had gone down. Now she was just a walking dull ache.
“Hi, Walt. I’m sorry to drop in on you without calling, but I wondered if we could come in for a few minutes and talk. About Charlie.” He eyeballed the guys again. “They’re my friends.”
“Yeah, okay. For you, Miss Becca. Come on in.”
She smiled and stepped into the foyer. “How are you doing?”
He shrugged and sighed, watching Nick and Beckett like a hawk as they filed into the outdated-but-neat living room. “I’m getting by. You find your brother yet?”
“No, but Nick and Beckett are helping me.” She made introductions and Walt shook their hands, still a little wary of them. “I’m going to hang these around,” she said, handing him a flyer. “We have to figure out where he went when he left here.”
“You cops?” he said, looking between the guys.
“No, sir,” Beckett said.
“They fought wi—”
“Becca,” Nick said sharply, cutting her off. She frowned at him, and he shook his head. “Sir, do you happen to know which cab company Charlie used? Was there one? Several?”