Getting Rowdy. Lori Foster
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“I kept her with me.”
She was glad to hear it, but how much strength had it taken for a boy at that young age to defy alcoholic parents?
Rowdy traced the lines in her palm. “I was home with Pepper when we got the news they were dead.” His hand tightened on hers. “She cried for two days straight.”
That poor girl. “How old was she?”
“Fifteen. Plenty old enough to understand that we’d been on the radar for children’s services for years. She figured with our folks gone, she’d end up in a foster home.”
A vise of sorrow closed around Avery’s heart. Now she understood what had forged Rowdy’s hard edge—pure survival. “How old were you?”
“Just turned eighteen.”
On the run. Avery already knew, but asked anyway. “You took off with your sister, didn’t you?”
“That seemed better than being separated. And we did okay for a few years. At times, it was even kind of fun.”
Because he no longer had abuse to deal with? She fought the unbearable urge to hug him tightly, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate it.
Not for the reasons motivating her.
Without her realizing it, Rowdy tugged the cloth-covered band from her hair, freeing it.
“Rowdy...” She reached back to gather the unruly mass, but he already had his fingers tangled in it, spreading it out, bringing it forward over her shoulder.
As if fascinated with her hair, he watched his hand instead of meeting her gaze. “Pepper had grown up without much, so she didn’t feel like we were missing anything. Long as we had a roof over our heads and enough to eat, she was happy.”
Gently, Avery said, “I think being happy had more to do with having her big brother around.”
“Maybe.” He gave a gruff laugh of disgust. “I screwed up a lot of stuff, but most of all when I got us both jobs in a high-end club. The pay was great. I was able to save up some money and keep Pepper close at hand.”
Had he been protecting Pepper his whole life? First from his parents, and then from well-meaning authorities?
If so, where did that leave Rowdy?
Who had looked out for him?
Avery tried to imagine him as a little boy stuck in a bar while his parents drank themselves into oblivion. At thirteen, hiding with his sister. At eighteen, on the run from the establishment.
“You did the best you could.” Always.
Something shifted in his demeanor, the sadness replaced with iron will—yet his touch remained gentle as he toyed with a long lock of her red hair. “By the time I realized the club owner was a murdering bastard, it was too late.”
Oh, no. Visions of horrible scenarios played out in her head. “You were hurt?”
“That would have been easier.”
Meaning he’d been hurt before? The thought crushed her, making it even more impossible to resist him.
Concern robbed her voice of strength. “Your sister?”
He nodded. “It’s a convoluted story, but the gist of it is that Pepper saw a city commissioner take a bullet to the brain.”
Stunned, Avery forgot about her hair and barely noticed when Rowdy lifted it to his face.
“She stuck to the shadows, so they didn’t at first know that she’d seen anything. I was working the floor as a bouncer, and Pepper didn’t want to chance telling me. Before I knew what had happened, she’d shared the details with a reporter.”
It took Avery a moment to find her voice. “Why not the police?”
As if it made perfect sense, and was to be expected, he said, “Powerful men have powerful contacts.”
Sadly, she knew something about powerful men. “Police?”
“Yeah. More than a few of the boys in blue hung out in the club. So many of them were on the take, Pepper didn’t know which ones, if any, were honest.”
That explained Rowdy’s distrust of the law. “A terrible situation.”
The back of his knuckles brushed her cheek, down the side of her neck. “Unfortunately, the boss also employed a few people at the newspaper. When the reporter tried calling in his ‘big story from Yates,’ he ended up with his throat cut. The only upside was that everyone figured me as the snitch.”
Covering her mouth with both hands, Avery waited to hear the rest of the story. She knew it wouldn’t be good.
He slid a hand around her jaw, tipped up her face. “We had few options, and no one to trust.”
Because they were all alone in the world. How tragically heartbreaking. “You became a target?”
He shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “For once, being a street rat came in handy. I had my own contacts, so I got Pepper a new identity and tucked her away in an apartment building I won in a card game. I stayed mobile, moving around so no one could get a bead on me. I was the one they remembered, the one they wanted. I figured without me, they wouldn’t find her.”
Meaning they’d ended up separated after all? It felt like her heart shattered. “I’m so sorry.”
“I covered our trails the best I could...” He locked his jaw and turned away. “But not good enough, since Logan Riske still found us.”
Logan, the detective his sister fell in love with, and vice versa. “I thought that was a good thing.”
“They’re in love. But it could have easily gone south, without the happy ending.”
Avery tried to take it in, but it wasn’t easy. “You said you won a building in a card game?”
“I have all kinds of talents.” He slid a finger along the neckline of her shirt, seducing her almost out of habit. “Want me to show you a few?”
His resourcefulness, his dedication to his sister, astounded her. She tipped her head. “Have you ever been arrested?”
He blew out a breath, and for the moment at least gave up on his seduction. “A few times when I was underage. Shoplifting and stuff like that.”
She wanted to ask him what he’d stolen, but it didn’t matter. Survival. Somehow she knew whatever he’d taken had been inspired by need, not greed. “And since then?”
His smile hardened. “I’ve gotten better—at everything I do.”
Knowing the outrageous comment was meant to distract her, Avery snorted. She had a feeling Rowdy was more honest than most. “What sort of illegal stuff do you do now?”
He opened his hand on the side of her neck, bent to kiss her temple. “Whatever I have to.”
“To protect the people you love?”
“What the hell, Avery?” He sat back from her. “Don’t make me out a saint, okay?”
“I would never make that mistake.” Rowdy was better than a saint, more solid and real. An honest-to-God tough guy, here in the flesh. She’d take that over an ethereal saint any day.
No longer caring what Rowdy thought, Avery slipped her arms around his neck and nestled against him.
“Damn it.” He stiffened without returning her embrace. “Here I am, getting more turned on by the second, and you want to slap a halo on my head.”
With her nose pressed close to the skin of his throat, she breathed deep, filling herself with his potent scent. He smelled so good, felt even better, and she admired him so much. “A halo would never fit over your massive ego.”
It’d