Page 54 of Fiery Romance

My heart beating faster, I call the guys on the ground.

“Is the team still at the store?” I bark at Palinsky.

“We are, sir.” I hear the faint sound of rap music, laughter, and a voice going ‘hell naw!’.

I blink. “Palinsky, what’s happening over there?”

“Just a minute, sir.”

I hear the sound of a door creaking open and slapping shut. The noise is considerably reduced.

“Sir?”

“Did you leave your post to go to a party?”

“What?” Palinsky sounds nervous. “O-of course not, sir. The guys and I are guarding the store. Just like you asked. It’s just…”

“Save it, Palinsky. I’m going to ask you one question. Did Island get home safely?”

My fingers tighten on the cell phone. I wait on pins and needles for his answer. If they abandoned their post and left Island unattended, heads are going to roll.

“She refused to go, sir. And we couldn’t force her.”

My eyes shut and I inhale a sharp breath.This stubborn, mulish, hard-headed, headache of a woman…

“She insisted on staying and cleaning up,” Palinsky explains.

“By herself?”

I imagine Island straining under the weight of heavy objects. I see her pricking her fingers on broken glass. I picture her limping in pain from trying to work in those ridiculous heels.

My heart wrenches.

Eyes shifting through the living room, I scout out my keys and wallet. I’m heading over there. I’ll call Cody on the way and ask him to stay with Regan and Abe a little longer.

“Not by herself. She had a lot of help putting her shop back together,” Palinsky adds.

“You guys pitched in?” I’m surprised to hear that. Palinsky’s good at his job, but he doesn’t intervene in a client’s life.

“It was the community, sir.”

I stop with my hand halfway to my keys. “The community? Why would they care about her salon?”

“Probably because the salon cares about them. Apparently, women from the local shelters and halfway houses get their hair done for free. Some of those women showed up when they heard about the break in.” He lowers his voice. “And the shop also employs people from the neighborhood across the tracks. Those folks are here as well. I’m not quite sure how it happened, sir, but someone started playing music. Someone else set up a barbecue. And then it… well, it turned into a party.”

The distant sound of shouting explodes in the background.

I stiffen. “What was that?”

“A man by the name of Bantam just won at dominoes, I believe,” Palinsky murmurs dryly.

The door creaks and the music gets louder before it slaps closed again. A voice that makes my heart squeeze a little tighter sounds.

“There you are, Mr. P. You were about to get out-eaten by the other suits, so I brought you a plate. Wasn’t sure if you were a breast or a thigh guy so I got wings because you can never go wrong with wings. There you go. Here’s a spoon for the baked beans. I’ll leave this Kool-Aid here for you.”

“Thank you, Miss Hayes.”

“Island. Call me Island.”

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