“Who the f**k is Damon?” Gray growled.
“He’s the manager of The House, the guy who set Faith up to visit. You probably saw him when you went to get her.”
“Yeah, I saw him,” Gray muttered. What the hell was she doing with the sex club guy?
“She’s alone,” Micah said as if reading Gray’s thoughts.
“Would you two care to share with the rest of us?” Connor demanded. “Micah, if you know where Faith is, then you better spill it.”
“I know where she is. Now who’s going to tell me why our office looks like a policemen’s union meeting and what that has to do with Faith being in danger?”
Gray quickly related the story to Micah. Micah frowned and glanced over at Gray. “So all this time you were jacking us around?”
Gray sighed. “I had a job to do, man. You were a cop. You understand.”
A dull shadow crossed Micah’s eyes. “Yeah, I do.”
A commotion in the hall had them all looking up. A few seconds later, Mick came barreling past several policemen. He hadn’t shaven in at least a week, and he looked like hell.
“Damn it, Mick, what are you doing here?” Gray demanded.
“Where else would I be?” he ground out. “Now tell me what’s going on.”
Gray sighed. “I can’t be involved in this, Mick, and neither can you. I’ll give you the key to my apartment. You can go stay there. The police will notify you when an arrest has been made.”
“The hell you say! And where the hell are you going?”
“I’m going to make sure Faith stays out of harm’s way,” he said evenly. “Hopefully this will all be over quickly.”
“You’re leaving?” Mick asked incredulously. “You’re going to let some piece of ass deter you from catching your partner’s—your brother’s—killer?”
In a blur, Connor flew past Gray and shoved Mick against the wall, his hand twisted in Mick’s shirt. “Listen to me, you son of a bitch. That’s my sister you’re talking about. Why don’t you do what Gray told you and get the f**k out of here.”
Pop strode over and pulled Connor away. Though he appeared calmer than Connor, his eyes blazed with anger. “Back off, son. Me and Mr. Winslow here will have a little chat. And then he’s going to clear his ass out of my office.” He turned to Gray. “You need to get on out of here. You’re supposed to be protecting my daughter.”
Gray started to dig around in his pocket for a key to his apartment, but Pop waved him on. “I’ll take care of making sure Mr. Winslow has a place to stay. You focus on your job, and we’ll do ours. I’ll be in touch and let you know how things are going and when it’s safe to come back home.”
Gray nodded then turned to Micah. “I need you to tell me where.”
Micah walked out to the front with Gray and picked up a tablet of paper and a pen and jotted down an address. He tore off the piece of paper and handed it to Gray. “Just head straight down Seawall Boulevard out of town. You can’t miss it. Just about the time you think you’re going to fall off the other end of the island, you’re there.”
“Thanks,” Gray said. “Look, keep me posted okay? You weren’t here this morning, and the guys are pretty pissed over this. I don’t blame them, but I need to be kept in the loop, and Pop is adamant that Faith not know any of what’s going on. If I had to guess, he’s not going to be calling much.”
Micah nodded. “Will do, man. Let me know if you need anything.”
By the time Gray arrived at the beach house, it was close to sunset. He pulled onto the paved circle drive and parked outside the steps leading up to the front door. As he got out, he eyed the bags he’d packed but decided to wait and bring them in later.
He jogged up the steps and tapped at the door. Déjà vu settled over him as he recalled doing the exact same dance at her apartment earlier that morning.
This time when she didn’t answer, he didn’t waste any time letting himself in to make sure she was all right. He stepped into the spacious living room and took in the masculine decor. Definitely a bachelor pad. Didn’t have a woman’s touch at all. He briefly wondered if Damon had planned to join Faith here and scowled at the thought.
When his gaze lighted on the French doors leading out to the deck, he saw an arm draped over the side of a lounger. Faith’s hand dangled and brushed the floor.
He hurried, and when he got close enough, he could see that she was curled up asleep. Quietly, so as not to wake her, he eased outside, closing his eyes in appreciation when the gulf breeze blew over his face.
But as his gaze lowered to Faith’s sleeping form, his appreciation only grew. She looked beautiful. One hand dangled from the lounger, the other curled underneath her chin. Her chest rose and fell gently with each breath, and the breeze lifted the blond strands of her hair and blew them around her face.
All the way down here, he’d convinced himself that he’d tell her the truth no matter what Pop wanted. But now that he looked at her, so fragile and innocent, he understood why Pop wanted to protect her. Hell, he wanted to protect her. Wrap her in cotton and make sure nothing ever hurt her.
She wanted to be taken care of, and what man wouldn’t want to? She was sweet, soft and delicate in all the right places. As he stood watching her, she stirred and moved restlessly on the lounger. Her eyes fluttered open. She blinked as she looked at him, and then her eyes widened in surprise.
“Gray?” she asked sleepily. “What are you doing here?”
He bent and ran a finger down her arm. “I hope you haven’t been lying out here all day. You’ll burn.”
“Was in the shade most of the day,” she mumbled. “What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?”
She shifted and sat up in the seat and continued to regard him with sleepy eyes.
“I wanted to talk to you,” he said simply.
Her expression was disbelieving.
“I know I’ve acted like an ass,” he said. “The fact is, Faith, you threw me for a loop.”
He knelt on the wood deck, shifting his weight to alleviate the discomfort on his knees. She placed a gentle finger over his lips, and he was shocked into silence.
“Let’s go inside to talk,” she said.