leveraged himself up using the cane, grimacing at the twinges in his knee, and looked out over the quiet street. “I’ll give you one guess who did this.”
“You think the same person who ran through your backyard?”
“And painted my front door.”
“Why would a killer do shit like this? It doesn’t make sense. Why would he torment you like this? Why not hightail it out of here while he had the chance? Or better yet, kill you before you remember?”
“Maybe he likes toying with me.”
“Or maybe it’s not the same guy.” Tony raised an eyebrow as if challenging him.
“You don’t believe me.” Trusting each other’s gut instincts had saved their lives more than once, so for Tony to doubt him now smacked of betrayal.
Tony rubbed a hand across his bald head and sighed. “Hell, AJ, I just don’t know. It seems you’re seeing things you want to see without looking at the facts. That’s not like you.”
Alex gripped his cane until his knuckles hurt. “It’s never been personal before. None of the dirtbags I’ve dealt with have come to my home and threatened my—” He swallowed. Emotions he’d been living with for six months welled up inside him, one standing out over the others. Fear. If anything happened to Tess, it’d be his fault. He couldn’t live with that. “Threatened my family.”
“Yeah, that’d make me crazy too, but you gotta look at the facts, and the facts don’t indicate a person who’s organized enough to run a drug ring.” Tony pointed to the mess on the porch. “This suggests kids, or maybe some wacko with a vendetta.”
“No. It’s the same guy. My gut tells me that. Son-of-a-bitch!” He wanted to get his hands on the asshole and wrap his fingers around the guy’s neck.
“So what are you gonna do about this?”
“Call it in. Get a report.” He waved a hand at the mess. “We need to get this out of here before Tess wakes up. Damn, she’ll notice the missing doormat.”
Tony looked at him in surprise. “You’re not telling her about this?”
“Hell, no. She’s upset enough with the other stuff and besides, she’s sick.”
“Sick?” Concern creased Tony’s brows and his mouth turned down.
“Pneumonia. Which reminds me, what are your plans for tomorrow?”
“Why?”
“I need your help.” Alex looked around the neighborhood again and spied his truck parked on the street. “You brought my truck?”
“The landlord said it needed to be moved. Plus, I thought Tess could drive it now and then to keep it running. I’d hoped Tess could drive me back home.”
“No can do. She’s wiped out. Can you call someone?”
“I’ll just jump a ride with the patrolman who comes to take the report.”
***
Tess groaned and tried to roll over, but Othello had settled on her legs and she couldn’t move. She blinked before her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the nearly darkened room. Stifling a yawn, she glanced at the clock, but it wasn’t there. Somewhere in the back of her mind a faint thought whispered that she needed to do something, but her body ached and her eyes were so heavy she couldn’t keep them open. She snuggled into the covers and was almost asleep when it all came back.
Cookies.
Gift baskets.
Deliveries.
If lifting her arms took too much effort, how was she supposed to do all of that? She coughed then groaned as pain sliced through her ribs. Pulled muscles, the doctor said. Pulled muscles, broken ribs, they all felt the same to her.
Promising herself a few more minutes of rest, she burrowed under the covers and tried to kick Othello off her legs. He didn’t budge. She turned her head and went still. It wasn’t Othello pinning her to the bed. Alex lay beside her, one hand under his pillow, his leg thrown over hers.
He sighed and shifted, frowning in his sleep when he moved his bad knee. She wanted to touch his cheek, smooth the hair off his brow, kiss his lips. For a few moments, she let herself think what it might have