Desire & Blood - The Thorne Siblings

25. Sports Bag

When the doorbell rang, my alarm clock told me it was a few minutes past midnight.

I cursed, got up, went to the window, and looked into the alley.

The unmistakable green of Theresa's car was back. The vehicle stood under a street lamp in front of the house.

A black-haired figure was at the building's door. My tenant was back.

The bell rang once more.

The building's intercom, as well as the door opener, were as dead as the defunct elevator. If I wanted to let her in, I had to go downstairs and open by hand.

The bell rang again.

Sighing, I pulled a bathrobe over my sleeping attire. As I descended the stairs, I wondered where she had been. She had left without notice, and now she reappeared in the middle of the night.

I saw her through the grilles of the front door's glass panes. She hugged a sports bag nearly as large as she was and gave me an oblique smile when she caught sight of me.

I opened the door. "Where the hell have you been?" My greeting was a hiss.

She glanced down the street, then she came in. "I've been home... to get some clothes."

"Home? I thought you were afraid to go there."

"Today's Tuesday, and there shouldn't have been anyone there tonight, except for the cook, and she's half deaf."

I pushed her towards the stairs. "Shouldn't?" I didn't like the sound of this.

"Ed was there. He's Thierry's driver. He arrived just when I was leaving."

"And?" This wasn't good, not at all.

"He honked at me when I was driving away. And when I didn't stop, he followed. I raced onto the interstate, and he kept tailing me. I think I lost him when I veered off at an exit."

"You think?" I looked back through the door's windows, expecting this Ed to grin there. But there was no one outside.

She shrugged.

Great.

We ascended in silence. As we reached the apartment, I bolted the door behind us. It didn't make me feel safe, though.

Theresa placed her bag on the sofa.

I went over to the window and looked out, again checking the street below. "We have to get rid of that car of yours."

"Pardon?" She joined me.

"It's conspicuous. If they are looking for it... Thierry, his driver, or the police... they'll find it, sooner or later. Especially in this neighborhood. You'll have to park it somewhere else."

A figure ambled down the alley, a man in a dark coat. He passed her car and turned into a side street. Probably no one of importance.

She held a hand to her mouth. "You're right. It's dangerous. That car shouldn't be here." She turned towards me. "And I shouldn't be here either. If they find me with you, you'll be dragged into this."

That was a valid thought, no doubt.

She picked up the bag she had left on the sofa.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I'm leaving." She moved to the door.

"Wait." I ran after her and grabbed her arm. "I told you... you can stay. Where else would you sleep?"

Why the hell did I say this? I would be better off with her leaving.

Her muscles beneath my fingers were tense. She bit her lips while her gaze darted between me, the bag she held, and the door.

"I'll find something," she said. "I've got some cash now. There are places where they won't ask for a credit card or ID... Some B&B, maybe. It's no problem, really."

"You won't find a B&B in the middle of the night." You wouldn't be able to cope out there, woman.

She took my hand in hers. "Look. Thierry and Ed... they're dangerous. You don't want to get involved with them. You've been kind to me. You've given me shelter, you've helped me. But you don't have to do more."

"Theresa," I said. "I... would like you to stay."

"Are you serious?"

"I'm serious." This was the truth—fuck caution. I just couldn't kick her out.

She looked at the door, then back at me. "Okay. Thanks... But, at least, I'll drive the car away and park it somewhere else. Right now."

"No one's going to look for it in the middle of the night. You can do that tomorrow. And you and I, we'll see a private investigator. We're in this together. I've made myself part of it when I reported Thierry's expenses. I won't balk now."

For a moment, we stood there, clasping hands. When I saw the tide in her eyes rising, I untangled myself.

I was exhausted and not up to an emotional scene. "Let's go to bed now. And tomorrow, we'll find someone to help us."

~~~

Finding someone to help us.

It wasn't that easy. Theresa already had drawn up a list of private investigators the day before, and we discussed the candidates over a late breakfast, checking out their websites. Most of them looked sleek, dangerous, and ready to kill for their clients if the money was good enough.

Or to betray their clients when the money was better on the other side.

We finally settled for a company called HHISPS, 'HH Investigative Services and Personal Support – Whatever You Need, Whenever'. I liked the open-scoped ring of the slogan's second part.

I called to make an appointment. A grumpy secretary told me that I was in luck. One of their top agents was available this afternoon.

"What's his name?" I asked.

"I'm sorry." The tone of her voice made it clear that being sorry wasn't her top priority. "We can't give our agents' names over the phone."

Fair enough. They seemed to mean business.

And so did I. It was time to kick some ass.