Blow - Kim Karr Page 0,36
decided to get up, I looked out the window, and I swear I saw her. But now that I’ve thought about it, I’m not so sure if it was my sister or my imagination putting her face on whoever it was.”
I pushed her coffee closer to her. Her face was bare of makeup and her hair wild. She looked utterly beautiful and vulnerable at the same time. The vulnerability scared the shit out of me.
Focus.
I had to focus on finding out what I could, in order to keep her safe. “How about we back up. Why would your sister be lurking around your house in the middle of the night?”
With both hands around her cup, she glared at me. “How about you tell me what you and your father have to do with Michael?”
Well, that was an abrupt about-face. I put both elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Elle, I want to help you, but I can’t do that if you won’t talk to me.”
Lifting the cream, she poured some in her cup and handed the bottle to me. “Why should I trust you?”
I tipped the creamer and added a small amount to the jet-black liquid. “Because I’m sitting here. Because I care about what’s going on. Because I want to help.”
“Tell me what you and your father were doing at Michael’s office.”
She was suddenly all business.
Assessing the situation, I leaned back in my chair and stretched my legs as I tried to decide the best way to go about this. I looked at her. At my cup of coffee. And back at her. “My father is legal counsel to a man involved with Michael and he came to brief Michael on a . . . situation.”
Her eyes bore into mine. “You mean the drug issue?”
My nod was hesitant, but enough that she knew the score.
Elle drew in a deep breath. “How does a boy from New York get involved in a Boston drug ring?”
“If you’re talking about me, I’m not involved.”
She raised a doubtful brow. “Who is this man who sent your father?”
Hesitation furrowed my brows.
“Tell me.”
“Patrick Flannigan,” I said, not really sure why.
Nothing registered. She didn’t know him.
I sipped my coffee. She really knew very little and that was how it should stay. I felt the need to clarify something. “Elle, there are some things you are better off not knowing.”
She held her hand up. “I’m tired of hearing that. My sister was into something illegal and if dangerous people are involved, I have a right to know.”
Ruffled, I ran a hand through my hair. “You’re right. I don’t disagree. At the same time, I’m here because I want to help you, not hurt you. But you need to let me do that.”
She gave me a slight nod. “Fair enough.”
The blanket had fallen off her shoulders and tiny nipples were protruding through the thin fabric of her top. My cock hardened, and I had to shift in my seat and reset my focus. “So tell me about your sister.”
She pulled the blanket up. “First tell me who you think that was. Were they trying to hurt me?”
With a jerk forward, I had a strange urge to grab her hand. “I don’t know. That’s what I’m trying to figure out. And I’m finished with you firing questions at me. I want to be honest with you, but I need you to talk to me first.”
Annoyed, she wouldn’t let up. “I will. After you tell me who you think that was.”
My temper was flaring and I took a moment to calm down. “Straight up?”
She gave me the barest hint of a nod.
Ready or not, it was time to lay it on the line. “Your tire wasn’t just flat, it was slashed. I hate to say this, but I’m almost certain it was deliberate.”
Elle gave me another nod, this one no more certain than the last, and she shivered at the same time. Tough shit—there was no time to sugarcoat the truth, not that I would have done so anyway.
“It just seems way too coincidental that with everything going it was some random perpetrator. Whoever it was must have been here to leave a message.” As soon as I said the words, the knot I felt in my stomach prevented me from forging on. Clint Eastwood sounded great, but in reality the Dirty Harry thing was wearing thin. I didn’t like to see her in this state. She looked way too vulnerable for my liking.
Frowning, she circled her finger in