Banged Up Read Free

smelled so sweet. He massaged his thigh harder.
    “Well, if she doesn’t, then I’m just a figment of your imagination.”
    She shot him an incredulous look. “I’ve known Maxi for over a year and she has never—not once—mentioned a brother. And she certainly didn’t tell me he’d be visiting.”
    She stood for a minute, appearing undecided what to do. With an exasperated huff, she pulled out the chair across from him. With a tug on the hem of her nightshirt, Colby settled into it. The tug was a sad attempt at covering her long length of thigh, but it certainly covered that sweet little package wrapped in pink satin. Okay, concentrate, damn it.
    “She doesn’t tell anyone she has a brother so no one asks questions.” He stood and left the kitchen, returning a few moments later with a prescription bottle and her gun. He released the full clip and unloaded the round in the chamber. A chill ran up his spine as the lone hollow-point bullet rolled across the kitchen table. She really could have shot him. He tossed the empty gun in her lap, making her jump. Leave it to a woman to be more dangerous than the Mafia. Fuck.
    “I hope you have a license for that.” He stuck the clip in his jacket pocket, and went to the cabinet for a glass.
    He was relieved the glasses were still in the same place where he left them two years ago. He had horrible visions of his sister taking over his house and redecorating it all girly-like. He was glad she had enough sense to leave things be.
    When he crossed to the sink, he realized he was wrong. Maxi had changed some things. He frowned at the little yellow ceramic duck with a blue ribbon tied around its neck which held a sponge. That would have to go.
    After filling the glass with cold tap water, he swallowed a pill and took a drink. On second thought, he popped another. He settled across from Colby again, studying her while he waited for the painkillers to kick in. Her mouth was pressed into a tight line, a shame for those luscious lips, and he could see the wheels turning in her head.
    “Why wouldn’t she want anyone to know she has a brother? Were you in jail?” Her eyes widened for a second. “Are you an escaped convict?”
    Mace couldn’t help but smile. She had to be kidding. “Yeah, I’m an escaped convict and you’re my hostage. You have to do what I say. Get naked and lie on the table.”
    Mace watched for a reaction. Nothing.
    Colby Parks looked stone-cold, not even a twitch of a smile. “I want to see some proof you are who you say you are.”
    Lady, someone must have burned you good to make you so mistrustful you have to interrogate a friend’s brother. Oh, and carry a gun. He couldn’t forget that. But, honestly, he couldn’t blame her. It was like looking at his reflection; he would be just as cautious and suspicious if he were in her shoes—he glanced down at her naked feet—or in those cute, pink painted toes.
    “What, knowing which cabinet the drinking glasses are in isn’t proof enough?”
    “Don’t toy with me. I want to see some ID.”
    Her determination fascinated him. Determined, not afraid of guns, one hell of a hottie … a redheaded, green-eyed, freckled one, to boot. Colby reminded him of an uptight school teacher. The kind who, at night, would let her hair down and get wild. She could be a sex kitten under her stubborn exterior. His type of woman. Mace grinned. His mind drifted back to their conversation and he realized she waited expectantly. “ID? Like my inmate’s ID card with my mug shot and number on it?”
    “An ID would do.”
    “Sorry, I left it behind when I scaled the walls. Had to pack light. It was a long swim from Alcatraz to land.” Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to appreciate his sense of humor.
    He sighed, the pain in his leg was slowly easing. His relief was short-lived, for some reason he now had a headache. He looked over at the reason. “Where is my dear sister, anyhow?”
    “Away.”
    “Hmm. I figured. She