Handler squinted down at Andrew’s bare chest. “Those nail marks, son?”
Caught off guard, Andrew looked at himself to find he did indeed have several red slashes across his pecs and stomach. Pride swam in his belly, clashing with the irritation. “And?” Andrew raised an eyebrow at Handler. “Been a while since you got scratched up, old man?”
The other man’s expression grew pinched. “Let me guess. Those came courtesy of the waitress next door. The one with the great rack.” He licked his fleshy lower lip. “You know, I’m thinking you two might be serious.”
Andrew’s vision was doused in red, his fists aching from being clenched so tightly, but he didn’t want to give Handler the satisfaction of winning this battle. Nor did he want to give the kind of reaction that would make Handler focus more on Jiya. “Oh yeah. What makes you think that?”
“You’re a good-looking man. Working in a bar and lifeguarding, I’m sure there’s no shortage of willing girls to choose from.” Handler pointed at Andrew’s house, then Jiya’s, in turn. “Now in the case of our pretty Miss Dalal…sleeping with her is kind of like shitting where you eat, isn’t it? Once you start hitting that, you can’t bring other girls home. She’ll see what’s going on right through her bedroom window, won’t she? And that’ll cause problems. So either she’s the only one you’re fucking or you’re not as smart as you look.”
Moments ago, Andrew’s blood bad been boiling, but the more Handler spoke, it started to ice over. This man had been watching closely. Too closely. He knew Jiya’s name, first and last. Knew the positioning of their bedrooms. Had he watched Jiya climb into Andrew’s room last night? The thought made his gut rebel. She’d been vulnerable. Andrew was making her vulnerable just by being involved with her. As friends, as lovers.
In any capacity.
Handler turned smug. “You’re showing me your soft spot, son,” he said. “Can’t say I blame you. She’s cute as hell and her restaurant makes a hell of a tikka masala. Ordered it myself last week. Don’t worry, I tipped your girlfriend well.” As if Handler was unaware that he’d just set off an earthquake beneath Andrew’s feet, he scratched at the patchy stubble on his chin. “Be a shame if they had to shut down for some reason. I think it might bother you more than the Castle Gate closing.”
He just managed to keep himself from throwing up. This man had gone to Spice, been waited on by Jiya. Been near her. Talked to her. This was a threat. He was threatening Jiya, if not with violence, then with damaging her livelihood. No. No no no no.
“She doesn’t know anything. My brothers don’t, either,” Andrew rasped, pressing his fingers to the throb in the center of his forehead. “I’ll do the fucking job, like I told you. I just want her and them out of this.”
Handler flashed an ugly smile. “Now that’s what I wanted to hear.” He handed Andrew a slip of paper out of his pocket. “Be at this address Wednesday night. One in the morning, no earlier or later. Be on time.” He gave Andrew a hard look. “You’re meeting Marlin. He’ll give you the address for the drop off.”
Andrew nodded stiffly. “Are we done here?”
The cop took a menacing step in Andrew’s direction, but he didn’t budge. “You don’t want to find out what I can do if you fuck this up or decide to be a hero, son.”
Any glimmer of hope Andrew had encountered earlier that talking to Jiya might be the best move faded to nothing as he walked back into the house. How could he tell her what he’d done when he knew firsthand how the information could be used to make people do things against their will? Putting distance between them was the only way to keep her safe. She needed to stay away from him. Out of Handler’s reach. And, in turn, Andrew’s.
On autopilot, he made two coffees and walked like a zombie to his bedroom, using a hip to open the door. A pulse rapped in his ear and it tripled in speed when he saw Jiya sitting up in his bed, clearly having just woken. My God, she was so beautiful. How could there be anything so hideous in a world where she lived?
They stared at each other in the gray light.
“I think I should go,” she whispered.
He swallowed and glanced away. His gaze returned to her when she slipped out of bed naked and put back on her nightgown. Her panties. How could he not stare when she was a goddess outlined by the sunshine? His goddess. She was supposed to be his.
But he’d put her in jeopardy.
I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I’ll get you clear of this.
Panic seized him when she padded to the window, preparing to leave and come back never. But she stopped before he could call out. “Andrew?”