Dare to Tempt - Carly Phillips Page 0,16
on, grabbed her phone, her keys, tucked her gun into the back of her pants, and left her apartment. Once in the hall, her neighbors exited en masse as well. They walked the four flights down the stairs and crossed the parking lot to stand outside just as fire trucks and police sirens alerted them to their arrival.
* * *
Damon woke up at seven a.m. He’d left his phone in the kitchen last night, crashing early thanks to his head, and when he walked in to make a smoothie, he picked up the cell and pressed the side button. A stream of messages from Austin poured in, each one more annoyed than the last. The gist of it was to call his brother back, and Damon’s gut churned because it obviously wasn’t good news.
He tapped his brother’s name on the screen and waited for him to answer, which he did on the first ring.
“Hey, bro. What’s up?” Damon asked.
“Where the fuck have you been? I called you all night.”
Damon winced at the frustration in Austin’s voice. “I shut my phone off. Sorry.” He drew a deep breath. “I lost the appeal, didn’t I?”
“I’m sorry, Damon.”
His stomach tumbled at the news.
“We knew it was a long shot,” Austin was saying. “Without being able to argue the validity of the testing, we never really had a chance. They don’t call it a zero-tolerance policy for no reason.”
“Yeah.” Disappointment and rage warred within him. Even though he hadn’t done anything wrong, the suspension resulted in him letting his team down and he hated it.
“I’m out four games beginning with the start of the season. In a contract year.” He didn’t give a shit about the money penalty. Just about letting everyone down.
“Breathe, Damon. Ian knows you. He won’t base the contract offer on this situation.”
Damon ran a hand through his hair. “Ian has a salary cap and the reputation of himself and the team to worry about.”
“And we have Evie. Give her a call. Regroup. Come up with a plan. At least you’ll feel proactive.”
“Yeah,” he muttered. “I’d rather drink myself stupid.”
“Except it’s seven in the morning, not to mention it’s not good for your body or your concussion. Just calm down and we’ll deal with this. I promise.”
“Thanks.” Damon disconnected the call, feeling sick. Knowing what and who he needed, he picked up the phone and texted Evie.
* * *
As Evie waited outside with her neighbors, she glanced at her phone. A little after seven a.m. It buzzed and she turned it over, glancing at the screen to see a text from Damon.
Damon: Morning, sunshine.
She grinned and texted back: Morning
Damon: Checking in.
Evie: I’m fine. Gas leak at my building. Standing outside.
Damon: Keep an eye out around you. I’m coming.
She wanted to roll her eyes, but she couldn’t. She’d grabbed her gun for just the possibility that John decided to mix into the crowd.
No need to come, she typed, but there was no read confirmation beneath the words.
Her stomach flipped at the possibility of seeing him, and she lectured herself about how crazy those unwanted feelings were. He was a client. She couldn’t let herself give in, because she’d sworn off men after she’d misjudged John so badly.
“Evie! Evie!” her brother Mack yelled, finding her in the crowd.
“Mack!” She waved and he met up on the grass. “What’s wrong in the building? Do you know?” she asked, realizing he’d probably heard the news on his police scanner.
“Someone called in a gas leak,” her brother said.
She blinked. “That could be serious.” She lowered her voice. “The building could explode.”
He nodded. “The fire department is setting up near the fire hydrant and going in with meters. Meanwhile, the police are moving you all back farther,” he said, just as a uniformed officer directed them far from the building.
“Is Deke here?” she asked of her brother the firefighter.
“I haven’t seen him yet but he’s on shift. I’m sure he’s around somewhere.” Mack glanced over people’s heads.
Evie patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you go see what you can find out?”
“Good idea. Stay put.” He kissed her forehead and strode off, leaving Evie to wait … for Damon.
* * *
Once again, Damon found himself driving too fast to Evie’s apartment, concern gnawing at his gut. At least his symptoms were lessening. He didn’t know why he felt the need to rush over. Gas leaks happened, and most likely they’d clear things out and let them back into the building.
He parked far from the building and the crowds and