The Enforcer - Kelli Callahan Page 0,62
taste too.
“It was all very last minute, especially with everything that happened, but he had my vote either way.”
“Hmm.”
“What is it?” I ask.
“Nothing. I mean, do you think it’ll be a problem for me?” he wonders.
“I don’t think it’ll be a problem for anyone, so long as they follow the law,” I say.
He narrows his eyes at me, and I resist a smile. “I thought we agreed that wasn’t something we were going to talk about.”
“I can’t help it. Holly’s right. I have a thing for a bad boy.”
“That’s a good man?” he asks.
“Exactly.”
Samson
* * *
“One hundred and sixty boxes.” I drop another large case of canned chicken noodle soup.
“Hell of a turnout,” the man beside me remarks.
“Damn right,” I say, turning and smiling. “Hey there. I’m Samson Roberts.” I reach over and shake the hard hand of the man beside me.
“Aaron Rodgers,” he nods, his calculating eyes assessing me in a way that indicates he doesn’t trust people easily.
“What brings you out here today?” I ask, a little uneasy.
“To please, God,” he shrugs, turning away from me and looking around the room.
“Really?” I ask in disbelief. “You don’t strike me as the religious type.
“In my world, God answers by the name of Chief Kenton Traverse.”
“Is that right?” I smirk, enjoying his attitude.
“Maybe,” he gives me a cocky grin. “The chief of police needed volunteers to help supervise though. It seems he and Diana are close.”
I frown at the use of her first name. “Are the two of you close?” I look at the elegant blonde.
“Not particularly.” He slides his hands in his pockets and walks away. “We spent a night together.”
“What the hell does that mean? Hold up a sec,” I say, jogging over to him and standing in front of him. “Are you telling me that you used to date Diana Marshall?”
“No,” he raises his eyebrows and steps around me, amusement flickering in his almond shaped eyes.
“Well, then what do you mean spent a night together? You didn’t hook up with her, did you?” I raise my eyebrows in shock.
“If I had, what’s it to you?” He squares his shoulders at me, challenging me, and something tells me that he would be a ruthless opponent.
“Nothing. It’s just hard to believe,” I say, folding my arms, cocking my head, reassessing the man in front of me.
“I guarded her room at the hospital,” he says, stepping back as a homeless man squeezes through for his sack lunch. “We never slept together,” Aaron admits.
“I see what you did there,” I laugh, pointing a finger at him as he holds his hands up in peace.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he says, taking a step back and walking into two young women; the box of canned goods they were carrying clang to the ground with an ear-aching echo.
“Goddamnit,” one of the blondes says, jumping up and down and holding her foot. “Seriously, how klutzy are you?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he stutters, bending down and picking up miscellaneous cans from the floor, assisted by the little church girl with the soft blue headband.
“Here, let me help you,” I say, to the one hopping up and down, noticing her sandaled feet, one slowly turning purple.
“No, I’m fine, you’ve done enough damage,” she says, wincing in pain.
“Hey, he walked into you, not me. Besides it could be broken,” I say, scooping her into my arms and carrying her over to the table.
“Good God,” she breathes, her eyes wide as she gazes up at me.
“Samson.”
She laughs. “Holly.”
“Nice to meet you, Holly.” I lower her to the table. “Can I look at your foot?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” she replies as I reach forward and slide off her sandal. Her foot is now the same shade of purple as her toenails.
“Looks like it hurts.”
“It does. God, I hope it’s not broken. My mom’s gonna freak out.”
“Why is that? Are you a gymnast or something?”
“No,” she laughs. “My mom is just hyper-protective of me, and if she thinks something’s wrong, she’ll be all over me.”
“You’re lucky to have a mother who cares so much.”
“Yeah, that’s what she says, too.” Holly stretches her toes and winces. “Maybe it’s not broken. Maybe it’s just badly bruised.”
“Maybe. Can you move it?” I ask.
She flexes her foot and gasps in pain.
“I really think you should go to a doctor. Who’s your mom again?” I look around the room.
“She’s over there. The crazy lady who started this whole thing.”
“Is that so?” I laugh, glancing over my shoulder at a large man in a