LITMIR.BIZ

       Chapter Four

      The guy who exited the elevator behind her was a real conversation piece all on his lonesome. The type of guy more often seen with a rough motorcycle gang than a delicate, upper-crust blonde. The smoothly shaven head, dark menacing eyes and bulging arms covered in dark tattoos weren’t real warm and fuzzy. His hooded gaze swept the room, pausing on Ally, and her nerve endings shriveled.

      Marsing frowned before turning his attention to the blonde. “Celia, what are you doing here?”

      Lucas leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. His narrowed eyes never wavered from the bald guy.

      “I wanted you to meet Boner. We met last week at a club when he saved me from this horrid creeper dude, and we haven’t left one another’s side since.”

      Her voice scraped against Ally’s ears, an irritating combination of vaporized arsenic and elegant old lace. Celia snuggled up to Boner’s—What kind of name is that, anyway?—muscular arm, smiled adoringly into his expressionless face, and waved a slender hand in Marsing’s direction. “Boner, this is my big brother, Greg.”

      Boner jerked his chin up in one of those weird universal male greetings. “Yo, Greg. What’s up?”

      “That’s Lucas.” The whine disappeared when Celia introduced Lucas, along with her smile.

      Marsing’s narrowed gaze didn’t waver from Boner. “Boner, huh? What is it you do for a living?”

      Boner shrugged. “I pick up jobs here and there, man.”

      “Pick up jobs.” Marsing repeated the phrase slowly, his lips thinning.

      “Greg.” Celia sighed dramatically. “Don’t be a bore.” Her bright-blue gaze landed on Ally, moving from her messy hair to her dirty bare feet. “Greg, who’s that? Another one of the strays you’re so fond of?”

      Ally curled her toes into the thick carpet, shame and humiliation twisting around her spine.

      Celia sniffed, her pert little nose elevated. “I really think it would be more appropriate to confine that sort of activity to your bachelor pad.”

      Everyone turned to Ally. Fingers twisted in the curtains, she squirmed. Boner’s eyes narrowed, more unwelcome attention thickening the dislike coating the cool air.

      Marsing stiffened. “My God, you sound just like Grandma, Celia.”

      Celia’s snooty gaze swung back to Marsing. “Thank you.”

      “That wasn’t a compliment. Grandma was an unprecedented snob. Get over yourself.” Marsing shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line. “This is Ally, a friend of mine, and you’ll treat her with respect.”

      He didn’t say, “Or else,” but the words hung in the air. She couldn’t believe he’d defended her like that. Some of the tension eased out of her aching shoulders.

      “Ally Thompson?” Boner rubbed his bald head and grinned. “Ain’t this my lucky day.”

      He knew her name? Tension returned with a vengeance, closing her throat and sinking tentacles into the floor, freezing her to the spot.

      An alert, crackling stillness washed over the room.

      “Yeah. Why?”

      Marsing stood with his legs spread, weight balanced on the balls of his feet. Ally frowned. Alarm tightened her muscles to the point of snapping, yet Marsing looked calm. Even she knew some tattooed bo-hunk knowing her name spelled trouble with a capital T.

      An unpleasant gleam appeared in Boner’s eyes. “No reason.” One beefy arm reached behind him while the other went for the blonde’s slender arm.

      Marsing and Lucas moved as smooth as butter on a hot Southern day. Lucas snatched Celia away from Boner, ignoring her shriek of outrage. The snake on Boner’s arm flexed and his hand reappeared sporting a big ol’ gun.

      Before Ally could blink, Marsing had hauled her out of the room. Didn’t even pause as they crossed a spacious bedroom, or look back to make sure they weren’t being followed. Her heart pounded loud enough for him to hear, but he was too polite to comment. Thankfully.

      “Damnit. Leave it to Celia to hook up with another loser. She’s always had shit for taste in men.”

      Her oh-so-special experience with Officer Smith came to mind. Ally bit her lip but couldn’t quite hold in a muttered, “Must run in the family.”

      She didn’t know Celia. Or Marsing, for that matter. Even so, she couldn’t help a niggle of uncomfortable sympathy for beautiful Celia. The irritation pouring off Marsing could have seared raw meat to a tender well-done.

      Gunfire erupted in the other room. Her pulse skyrocketed and she instinctively ducked. Something shattered.

      Marsing shook his head. “There goes Grandma’s favorite vase.”

      He pulled her into a cool, white-tiled expanse of a bathroom and locked the door. “I’ll give you a choice. Do you want to stay in here or with me?”

      She crossed her arms, doing her best to ignore the crashes and gunshots. “Tattoo Man is one room away, armed with a mighty big gun. I’m sticking to you like feathers on a duck.”

      “What is it with you and nicknames, anyway?”

      She flinched and took a step back. Making up nicknames was a stupid habit left over from the trauma of high school and embarrassing as hell. Not to mention a secret. Before she’d so utterly lost her composure with Marsing.

      Marsing’s hand dove through his sandy hair, his heavy sigh filling the room. Something big slammed into the door and she jumped.

      “Damn.” Marsing shoved her in the shower, strode across the room and opened an exterior door. Soft sunlight spilled in as he stuck his head out. He turned, eyes narrowed and lips tight with impatience, and snapped his fingers at her.

      A frown tugged at her brow. Great, now she was a dog.

      Another heavy thud hit the door and she raced across the room like a scared little mouse. Which she supposed fit. A snug hidey hole in the wall and a nice hunk of cheese sounded lovely about now. Grimacing, she followed Marsing outside and down the long terrace that stretched along the entire side of the condo. A door a few feet away swung open and he slammed her into the wall, his body covering hers. Heart pounding in her throat and hands tingling, she forgot to breathe.

      “Hell, Jones,” Marsing snapped. “Warn a guy next time. I almost took your damn head off.”

      Lucas snorted, pushed Celia behind him, and waved his hand toward the door. “Get back inside and give me a hand. This guy’s like the Hulk.”

      Marsing steered her through the open door into the dark interior of the condo. Disoriented after the bright sunshine, she moved closer toward the relative safety of Marsing. A meaty hand clamped around her wrist, stopping her retreat. Panic flared, bright and hot. Jerked off her feet into a rock-solid chest, Ally cried out. The sound of guns cocking echoed through the room and froze her captor mid-motion.

      “Not the wisest choice you’ve made in recent times, Boner,” Marsing said.

      “Back off or I’ll snap her neck.” Boner’s voice rumbled through his barrel chest, his emotionless tone turning her knees to jelly. A soul-deep yearning for life surged in her breast. Sweet, sweet life. She didn’t want to die.

      Boner clamped her against him like a human shield, one massive arm wrapped around

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