Fighting Dirty

* * *

AFTER A GRUELING, nerve-racking day at work, Merissa wanted nothing more than to escape her own jitters. It shamed her that every time the front door of the bank had opened, tension had dug into her spine, leaving her heart racing and her palms clammy.

Her tellers, who were all nervous, needed her to lead by example. She didn’t want to be a coward so she’d done her best to hide the reactions, especially when talking to her brother. But no matter how she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking that the robbers might return. Everything they’d done had felt so personal, as if they’d come specifically for her, not just to rob the bank.

Detectives Riske and Bareden had assured her that the police would make frequent drive-bys to check on things. The FBI even had a plainclothes officer keeping watch, occasionally inside the bank.

None of that had mattered to the fear that repeatedly surged to the surface.

By the time she’d left the bank she felt so tightly coiled she wanted to scream. Even at her house, with the security system on, she hadn’t been able to regain her calm. Part of that, she knew, was living alone. Her bilevel home was fixed up so that she could live on the upper floor and, until recently, Cherry had lived on the lower level. But once Cherry and Denver married, the space became empty and she hadn’t so far rented it out again.

The long, warm shower that should have been relaxing instead left her straining her ears listening for any unfamiliar sounds.

By the time she’d dried her hair and dressed casually in jeans and a fitted T-shirt, stuffed a few necessities into a tote bag, and gotten out the door, all she could think about was seeing Armie again.

Unfortunately, she’d found Steve, a very unwelcome ex, coming up the walkway. And for the past five minutes she’d been attempting in vain to get rid of him.

“I’m concerned for you, Merissa.” He reached out to touch the bruise on her face, but she leaned away. Lips pressed together, he dropped his hand. “After the robbery yesterday you have to be shaken.”

“No, I’m fine.” And I’m a good liar—but it wasn’t Steve she wanted to comfort her. They hadn’t been together for months so why he thought he could waltz back in now, faking concern, she didn’t know. “I’m running late so if you don’t mind—”

“Merissa,” he said in a tone as thick as honey. “I know you better than that.” His gaze went to her house. “And didn’t you lose your roommate? You shouldn’t be alone.”

“I’m not.” Another big lie, but no way did she want Steve to think she’d be the only one in the house. “And really, Steve, it’s not your concern. We’re over.”

“But still friends.”

“Since when?”

He sighed. “I don’t blame you for being bitter. The way I treated you—”

“I’m not bitter,” she said from between her teeth. “I’m not anything—except in a hurry.”

Just then, she recognized Armie’s truck as he pulled up to the curb and her frustration mounted. She didn’t need a conflict between the two men and worse, if Armie was here to cancel on her, she’d... Well, she didn’t know what she’d do. Maybe try insisting.

But he wouldn’t be drunk now and that meant her odds of swaying him to her way of thinking were greatly diminished.

When the sound of his slammed truck door echoed over the street, she urgently wanted Steve to take off.

“I’m sorry,” she said, racking up her third lie, because she wasn’t sorry at all, “but I’m not interested.”

“Not even in a drink?” Steve cajoled. “Just for old times’ sake? Friend to friend?”

“Hey,” Armie said, looking so awesome in a snug-fitting long-sleeved T-shirt that, for once, didn’t have any provoking writing on it. Had he made that concession for her?

She’d have to tell him that she liked the raunchy sayings on his T-shirts.

But maybe later. Right now, his gaze was only on her. He didn’t even acknowledge Steve.

“What are you doing here, Armie?” She glanced at Steve and found him studying Armie, his expression hostile. “I was just heading to your place.”

Armie seemed to fight some internal battle before saying, “I wanted to follow you.”

“Why?” She didn’t want Steve to know how upset she’d been. “I’m okay.”

Pulling her in, Armie brushed a warm kiss over her mouth, rendering her mute. “’Course you are. But it’ll make me feel better. Okay?”

Spellbound by that spontaneous, casual kiss, she nodded.

And Steve suddenly exploded. “You.”

Armie smirked. “Didn’t recognize me at first? Yeah, I always figured you to be obtuse. Now beat it.”

Wait a minute. Merissa looked from one man to the other. What was she missing? “You two know each other?”

“In a way,” Armie told her.

“He,” Steve said, “attacked me!”

Merissa looked at Armie, and sighed. “Why?”

He laughed. “That’s it, Stretch? You don’t even ask if I did it?”

“No need. I can see it on your face.”

Armie tweaked her chin. “Well, you’re wrong. What I did was defend myself after his boyfriends jumped me.” Armie shrugged. “And yeah, after I finished with them I kicked his ass a little, too.”

“A little?” Steve demanded. He turned to Merissa. “You saw me! You know how bad it was.”

“When you were bedridden? Yes, I remember.” She huffed. “If you had your boyfriends—” Shoot, now she sounded like Armie. “Your friends jump him, then you all got what you deserved.”

“Why thank you, honey.”

“He was following me,” Steve insisted.

“Not exactly how it happened,” Armie told her, sounding bored. “And if you want all the deets I’ll give them to you. But if I stay next to this bozo one second more, I’m going to have to deck him. And then you’ll have blood all over your porch. You don’t want that, do you, honey?”

“No.” Merissa hiked her purse strap over her shoulder, lifted the tote bag and took Armie’s hand. “Later, Steve.”

“It might not be so easy this time, you bastard!” Steve followed them off the porch. “I’ve been working out!”

“Yeah?” Armie glanced back, his expression hopeful.

“No,” Merissa said firmly. “Keep walking.”

He didn’t.

Turning to look over her ex, Armie said, “You got some pretty muscles now, Steve-o? You wanna see how we match up?”