“Got it,” another said. “You guys go. Have a great night.” Ric laughed, tugging a snarling Dee-Ann through the group.

He led her down the hall until they reached the elevator. Once inside, he asked, “What’s going on?”

With a sigh, Dee pulled back the sleeve of her denim jacket. He saw the stitches. “Malone?” he asked and Dee chuckled.

“Nah. She’s not a fan of knives. It was a Hyena. It’s not that bad. And Teacup didn’t do a bad job.”

“You let Blayne sew you up?”

“It was either that or hear the sobbing.”

“Excellent point. And you handled the derby girls very well, too.”

“That took a lot out of me. They were watching the game, but when Blayne didn’t come back, they all went looking for her. Like she was some lost kitten. But when they all started talking at once . . .

that’s when I thought, ‘Time to start the killin’.’ ”

“Good thing I rescued you when I did then,” Ric teased.

“Yep.”

The doors opened and they walked out into the underground parking lot. “I’ll take you home,” he said, not bothering to frame it in the form of a question or an offer.

“Don’t need you to take me home,” was Dee’s immediate response.

He pressed his hand against her forehead, ignoring the way she slapped at him. “Until I’m sure you don’t have a fever, get used to having me around.”

“Great. First Teacup, now you gettin’ all pushy.”

“I’d like to think I rank a little higher than Teacup.” He stopped and glared at her. “And now you’ve got me calling her that!”

CHAPTER 8

D ee was busy trying to think of ways she could ditch Ric. Not that she didn’t appreciate his trying to help, but she didn’t need a babysitter and she wasn’t in the mood to share a cab to Rory’s hotel so that Ric could complain about her needing a place of her own. She had one, she just never went there. She always meant to but then something came up and by the time she got around to heading home, it was just easier to head to the hotel or Bobby Ray’s place.

Thinking she had a good excuse, Dee began to lie but stopped when she saw it. It sat in its own little spot, all by itself, freshly washed and detailed by the staff kept down here, Dee was betting. But worth it, she had to admit. So worth it. Because if there was one thing Dee didn’t believe in scrimping on, it was an automobile. And good Lord, but Ulrich Van Holtz had the best automobiles.

Now, it was true, she leaned toward American muscle. Cars from the sixties and seventies that, with the right engine, could hit speeds that would have troopers on her ass for days. But unlike her cousins, Dee had no problem with small foreign carsthat just reeked of speed and sex. And that was the one thing she really liked about Van Holtz. The man knew how to pick his cars. Most of the time, they weren’t even on the market yet in the States. Instead, he had them shipped over from Italy, Germany, and Asia.

Today he’d gone for a Mercedes-Benz so new that it wasn’t even on the market in Europe yet.

She knew because she’d read the article about its upcoming European release in one of Sissy Mae’s magazines.

While Ric tried to force his hockey bag into that tiny trunk, Dee dragged her fingers over the rear fender and moved around the vehicle to the passenger door.

How Ric managed to get the American version of a German car not yet available in Germany, Dee didn’t know. She didn’t ask. To be honest, she didn’t care. Because the mystery made it even sexier.

“You like?” he asked. “Just picked it up.”

“Nice.”

He grinned and unlocked the doors by remote. Dee slid into the leather seat and her entire body tingled from the contact. Now this was luxury. These Manhattan females with their obsession for shoes and bags and designer clothes that were out of style a nanosecond after they were sold could keep all their fancy crap. Instead, Dee would take this, thank you very much.

Dee buckled her seatbelt and, without thinking, gave Ric the address of the apartment she never went to. In fact, she was so busy touching and admiring the man’s car that she didn’t even know they were moving until they stopped in front of her building.

“This is where you live?”

Busy opening and closing the glove box, Dee snapped her head up, quickly taking in her surroundings and the scum that were eyeing Ric’s car—and probably Ric—from the various alleys and dark corners of the neighborhood.

What had she been thinking? Why didn’t she tell him to take her to the hotel? Especially since her apartment had no damn furniture in it! And to be honest, the whole street was nothing but a gangland horror show, filled with junkies, pimps, and murderers. A place where Dee-Ann could get information when she needed it without worrying about asking nicely or that the cops would show up should things get ugly. Although one could hear sirens going off all night long, cops and emergency personnel rarely came to this part of town until the sun came up and any bodies lying on the ground could be clearly seen.

Scrambling to get Ric out of here, Dee said, “Well, thanks and—”

“I’ll walk up with you.”

“No!” Dee cleared her throat. “What I mean to say is . . . not necessary. Besides, you can’t leave your car here anyway.”

“I can’t leave my car here, but I’m supposed to leave you here? And that makes sense because . .