Under Pressure (Body Armor #1)

Never again.

“He said if I went to the police, he couldn’t help me. That it’d be out of his hands. But with Tesh so close behind me, I couldn’t think of another option to get away. Then I ran through a red light and Tesh tried to follow.”

“Tried?” Leese asked.

“He got T-boned by a van.” She met his gaze. “I slowed down long enough to see the driver of the van get out, then I took off again. Until I saw Tesh this morning, I didn’t know if he’d survived that day or not. So many men had followed me, but none of them were Tesh.”

“Maybe because he was the most recognizable,” Leese said.

“Probably.”

Sahara crossed her legs, her fingernails tapping on the desktop. “I take it you didn’t go to the police after all?”

“I was closer to my house so I went there first.”

“Cat,” Leese chastised.

And yes, she felt like a fool. “It was stupid, I know. But I couldn’t think straight. I wanted to get inside and lock my doors and maybe call someone.”

“But?”

“Men were already there, peeking in the windows and trying the door, so I didn’t stop. I called my brother, Holt, but another man answered and before I’d even spoken, he told me I needed to return to Webb. It was like a nightmare.”

“No one got to you?” Leese asked.

She shook her head. “I didn’t give anyone a chance. I realized then that if I went anywhere obvious—”

“Like the police station?” Justice asked.

“—more men would be waiting for me. I called Webb back and said I wouldn’t talk. I hoped it would buy me some time, but he said there wasn’t anything to talk about. Either I came home, or I was on my own.”

Those words had felt so final, and so fatal.

“I told him I’d been on my own for a while. He really did sound apologetic when he reminded me that everyone knew how I’d separated from the family. Past actions, he claimed, had already discredited me, and if I forced his hand, he’d let the whole world know how...unstable I am.”

“What did he mean?” Sahara asked. “Was there a big blowup when you moved out?”

“No, nothing like that. I just moved out, as many young people do.” That no one had protested, or seemed to care, still hurt her. “I continued to visit with my family, but I didn’t do any more of the parties, the fund-raisers, the galas. It was never my thing anyway. I’m more comfortable at a McDonald’s talking to the other people in line or instructing my class of nine-year-olds on a project than I ever was at a big fancy party.”

Sahara said, “I’ve always loved dressing up.”

“Sure, me too. That part was great. But I’d mess up every time.”

“How?” Leese asked, and he looked irate about it.

She rolled one shoulder. “I could never get the hang of the right attire. I’d have a knee-length dress when others wore long, or I’d wear bright colors when others wore pastels. I’d laugh at the wrong things. Or I’d laugh too loud. We’d start dancing and not until it was too late would I realize I was the only one really cutting loose.”

Justice grinned. “Like to dance, do you?”

“Yes. But my idea of dancing and their idea were two very different things.” Might as well admit all her flaws and get it out of the way. “I have no sense of direction either. I’d head for the powder room and end up in the kitchen. If I drank even a little bit, I’d get tipsy, which only amplified all the things I did wrong. Worst of all, the small talk never felt small to me. I was always worried about slipping up and saying something inappropriate.” As in dumb. Or embarrassing. She gestured at Leese. “Ask him. He’ll tell you that I speak without thinking.”

Leese, brows still pinched, said nothing at all.

Justice grinned.

Feeling she had to defend herself, she said, “I moved out without fanfare and went about my life. Not mad, just...apart. Only there was gossip. Rich or poor, affluent or mundane, there’s always gossip. Folks said I disappeared because I had a nervous breakdown, or that I was run off because I’m an embarrassment. One old...” She quickly censored herself. “...busybody even claimed I had a medical affliction of the mental sort, only she didn’t put it that nicely. There was speculation on whether or not I was a drug addict, which would explain my weirdness, or if I’d gotten pregnant by a convict...all sorts of idiotic things. My brothers ignored it. Mother was furious so Webb tried to correct it. I honestly didn’t care. In fact, at the time, I thought it was almost funny. Now, though...”

“It’s a basis,” Leese said. “A way for your stepfather to embellish what was already started. He can go back and rewrite history any way he wants.”

“Yup. I’m afraid so.” She looked only at Leese, not anyone else. “I know I’m odd.” She shook her head, stopping his objection. “I still haven’t learned the knack of thinking before speaking, or the right things to wear. With my students, it doesn’t matter. I wear smocks and we laugh and we have a good time.”

“You should always be comfortable,” Sahara said, and with a shrug she added, “Create your own fashion and to hell with others.”

If only it was that easy. “My mother always said I was too honest. Webb said I was immature. It’s the truth, after moving out, I did what I wanted, when I wanted, without considering ramifications.”

“Like running?” Justice asked.

“It wasn’t the easiest choice. Nothing about it has been easy. But Webb and his cronies are powerful men with so much reach, I wasn’t sure who to trust.” And she needed to stop making excuses. Sitting a little straighter, she admitted, “I decided it’d just be best to take off for a while. So I did.”

“An understandable reaction.” Justice patted her shoulder with his massive paw. “No one blames you.”

She wasn’t sure about that. Leese watched her, but he didn’t say anything. She should have been stronger, tried harder. I should have found a way.

“We’re going to work this out,” Sahara said, all but rubbing her hands together. “We won’t let Georgia’s death be swept away.”

Cat feared it already had been. “What can you do?”

“What can’t I do?” she replied. “But first things first. We need to keep you safe.”

“I’ll see to it.” Leese again stood next to her.

So maybe he didn’t blame her, after all. Didn’t matter, since she blamed herself. But she’d hate to lose him as an ally.

“Yes,” Sahara purred. “I can see that you will. Perhaps you’ll also encourage her to remember that other name?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Cat gulped. His best was probably pretty damned awesome.

“What can I do?” Justice asked.

“Nothing,” Sahara told him. “I have a different job coming up for you. You may as well stick with me the rest of the month. I’d like to assess you.”

He shifted uneasily. “Assess me?”

“She does it with all the new hires,” Leese assured him.

“This is my only chance,” Sahara said, “since soon you’ll accompany the client nonstop.”