Val and I glared at each other, neither of us willing to back down. Fear incited my stubborn streak, and I loathed admitting the need for help. Val was probably frightened for me. He had lost his best friend. Watching that best friend’s sister wade through the same dangerous waters likely inspired his protective nature, but I learned a thing or two from having a male for a twin. Give a guy reason to think he has control and kiss your independence goodbye. “I can’t go home with you,” I said, trying for diplomacy. “You have roommates. They should have a say.”
“I don’t give a damn what they think.”
“If I’m in so much danger, then why do you want to bring it to your doorstep?”
Thorin watched our exchange like an umpire at a tennis match. He wore an amused smirk, and that pissed me off even more.
“I’d be happy for the asshole who trashed Mani’s place to show his face. Then I’d know exactly where to put my fist.” Val took my wrist and dragged me closer to him. “Don’t fight me on this, please, Solina.”
“Look, Conan,” I said. “Go beat your chest somewhere else. I’m going to call the police, and then I’m going to call Skyla. If she doesn’t have room for me, I’ll find a hotel. Now let go of me.” I yanked my arm, and Val dropped his grip.
I turned and started for the door leading to the stairway, but a huge and impenetrable figure stepped in front of me. Thorin. What the hell? Why is he getting involved? I stopped and folded my arms over my chest. I tapped a toe, implying impatience.
“The danger that has targeted you and your brother is no inane threat, Miss Mundy. It is fierce and brutal and very real, which I’m not sure you fully appreciate.”
I opened my mouth to disagree, but Thorin held up a hand to silence me. “If you care for Skyla, I must ask you not to involve her in this matter any further.”
“He’s right,” Val said. “You just asked why I would have you stay with me when it would bring danger to my doorstep. But you would bring that same trouble to Skyla without a care for her safety?”
“Miss Mundy, the way I see it, you have two choices. You will either go with Val, or you will go home, to North Carolina, and never come back.”
There were so many things wrong with Thorin’s statement that I didn’t know where to begin. “What’s behind door number three?”
“There is no door number three.”
“I’m not going home. I can promise you that.”
“Fine, then it’s my place,” Val said, not bothering to hide the gloat in his voice.
I wanted to whine like when I was a kid—You can’t make me, you can’t make me—but unless I wanted to fight the mountain of a man barring the doorway in front of me, then it seemed as though Thorin and Val could very well make me do what they wanted. Sure, I knew some dirty tricks, but they worked best on unassuming drunk barflies, or twin brothers who never really meant to harm me in the first place. Something about the way Thorin held himself, the attitude he exuded—my survival instincts insisted this was a man who didn’t succumb to dirty tricks. This was a man who knew how to fight.
“Are you going to play nice?” Thorin asked.
Fine. I would concede to letting them have their way, lull them into a false sense of male superiority, and then return to doing things my way at my first chance. I would not, however, agree to play nice. “Kiss my ass.”
“That sounds like defeat to me,” Val said.
Val reached out for me, tentatively this time, the way one reaches out to a skittish dog. My bravado was quickly fading, but the dread was still there, simmering in my gut. I leaned in and let Val draw me into a hug. His lips brushed my ear as he whispered, “Nothing’s going to happen to you on my watch.” I shivered—not so much from Val’s touch but from the dark and unfathomable glare of Aleksander Thorin.
“I think you should go back to North Carolina before we all end up regretting this,” Thorin said.
“I can handle myself,” I said. “I’m not a child.”
“Then I hope you have the sense not to act like one.”
Going downstairs to trash his storage room and undo all my hard work would make for satisfying retaliation, but it would only serve to prove his point. So, instead, I scowled and harrumphed. “A child is not allowed to think for herself. I make my own choices, and I’ll live with the consequences if I make the wrong ones.”
“The wrong ones might mean another death, Miss Mundy. And it’s not only your life you’re putting at stake.”
“What does that mean?” I asked, but Thorin clamped his mouth his shut and looked away, refusing to answer. I huffed again. Tell me I’m in danger, but don’t give me any details—how is that supposed to help anyone? “Now who’s being childish?” I muttered.
Val put an arm around my shoulder and guided me toward the door. “Let’s go, Solina. It’s late, and I’m tired.”
Thorin stepped forward and raised a hand to stop us. “After you go through your things and see what needs replacing, you can take what you need from the store, if we have it.”
My mouth fell open. “That’s very generous of you, but I couldn’t—”
Thorin interrupted me. “Take it as payment for your work in the stockroom.”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
Val and I left Thorin standing in the kitchen. Val didn’t let go of me until we reached the 4-Runner. “I’m not joking around,” he said. “You should know I’m willing to throw you in my Jeep, if necessary, to keep you from running.”
“I won’t run. I’m tired—I want to go to sleep.” And I’m more than a little scared. My ire had fizzled out. A wise woman would welcome the protection of a brawny dude and his two roommates, who were also nothing to sneeze at. Men who made a living conquering the wilds of Alaska probably laughed at the idea of a mundane intruder. Humph. Mundane. Only if I’m lucky.
Perhaps I should have questioned both Val’s willingness to help me and Thorin’s unexpected involvement. But a general theory about their motives had already formed in my mind. Val may have legitimately cared enough for me to put himself in harm’s way on my behalf, but there was more to it. He and Thorin knew a lot more than they wanted to admit, and keeping me close and safe must have profited them in some way beyond the simple warm fuzzies they got from aiding a damsel in distress.
They knew something about Mani’s murder and who was after me now. They knew something, and by God, I intended to know it, too. Keep your friends close, and your closed-mouth, secretive, and interfering friends even closer.
Chapter Eleven
In the morning I called to check on Nisha. She had seen my door, or the lack thereof, when she came home after bartending. By then the police had already come, put up the crime scene tape, and left. Call waiting beeped in as I listened to Nisha talk about the neighborhood chatter. Caller ID showed an unfamiliar number, so I let the call go to voicemail.
“So, no one heard anything—saw anything useful?” I said.
“No,” Nisha said. “Not really. People are freaked out after what happened to Mani. From what I can tell from the gossip, Mr. Lutz—that’s the neighbor across the hall—heard a commotion. He was the one who called the police, but he was afraid to open the door and see what was going on.” Nisha’s voice thinned to a whisper when she said, “It’s starting to seriously freak me out, too. My sister wants me to move out and come live with her. I think I’m going to take her up on her offer.”
“It might be a good idea, but I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s obvious this has to do with Mani and me.”
