Chapter 3

CHAPTERTHREE

Pipe ground his teeth together so hard, it felt as if he would crack a tooth. He couldn’t believe the things the redheaded bitch was saying.

He hadn’t even recognized the woman in the jeans and sweatshirt until the redhead had said enough for him to realize she was the woman in the black dress. The one who’d been outbid.

His blood ran cold at hearing the awful things the redhead—Eleanor, apparently—had said about veterans. What she truly thought about them. Pipe knew there were people in the world who thought the way she did, but he honestly hadn’t expected any of them to be here tonight, or to actually bid.

And to hear that she had no intention of actually paying the money she’d promised was the last straw. Every muscle in his body was tense, and he was two seconds away from going off on the bitch.

“Easy, Pipe,” Owl said, grabbing his arm.

“Take care of this for me?” he said to his friend.

“Of course. I’ll make sure the organizers know she has no intention of honoring her bid, thus voiding your responsibility to take her to dinner. I’ll donate the money in The Refuge’s name. Go on. Go after the other one.”

Pipe should’ve been surprised that Owl knew exactly where his head was at, but he wasn’t. They might not have served together, but they’d worked side-by-side for years. “Thanks, man.”

“Shut up,” he said, tightening his fingers around Pipe’s arm for a moment. “For the record…I like her.” He nodded toward the woman—Cora, the bitch had called her—who’d just reached the doors to the ballroom.

Something within Pipe loosened at hearing his friend’s approval. It made no sense, except that he valued Owl’s opinion. Nodding, he took a moment to send a glare Eleanor’s way, before turning and jogging toward the exit, where Cora had disappeared.

He was supposed to go back up onstage after the last man had been auctioned off, for the final announcement of how much money had been earned and for the closing remarks, but Pipe felt no guilt about bugging out early. He couldn’t lose sight of the woman who’d not only stood up for him, and seemed to honestly care about the veterans she was here to support, but who he’d found himself strangely attracted to since he’d first seen her standing near the stage, looking so out of place.

He had to talk to her. Find out why she’d seemed so desperate to win a date. He needed to know her story.

He wasn’t sure why, but he had the bizarre thought that if she slipped away, he’d somehow lose something precious.

Looking both ways in the hall outside the ballroom, Pipe didn’t see any sign of Cora. She’d been moving quickly, and he instinctively knew he had only seconds to make a decision on which way to go to find her. Left or right?

Right. Toward the lobby. He had a feeling Cora wasn’t staying in this fancy hotel.

To his relief, his instincts were proven correct when he rounded the corner. He saw Cora across the lobby, talking to a man standing at the entrance to the hotel. He was smiling at her, and as Pipe headed in their direction, Cora reached into her back pocket and hand the man some money.

Seeing her tip the doorman made Pipe’s respect for her rise even higher.

He’d heard the women’s entire conversation, and the only thing that bitch Eleanor was correct about was the quality of the clothes Cora had been wearing. He wasn’t an expert, but even he knew her dress from earlier wasn’t designer. The jeans and sweatshirt she now had on looked comfortable and well-worn. Yes, she’d bid quite a bit of money for him, but he had a feeling that every cent had been hard-won.

Pipe picked up the pace, jogging toward her. He made enough noise as he neared that both Cora and the doorman turned to look at him. Pipe approved when the man stepped in front of Cora as if to protect her. He wasn’t going to hurt her, far from it, but neither of them knew that.

He slowed as he approached and subtly held his hands out, making sure they both saw he was unarmed. Which wasn’t exactly true, but he also wasn’t packing anything that could harm them.

“Cora, right?” he asked.

She looked surprised. Then wary. “Yeah?”

“I’m Pipe, as you probably know. Can I walk you home?”

Instead of looking relieved or impressed, the suspicion in her eyes grew. “Why?”

“Because it’s late. And dark. And you shouldn’t be out alone.”

“I can take care of myself,” she said with a small lift of her chin.

To his surprise, Pipe found her stubbornness refreshing. Maybe because he’d been around so many women tonight who tittered and giggled at anything he said. He hated women who simpered, and he had a feeling this woman would rather die than play coy for a man.

“Right. Then maybe you can give me a reason to get out of here, instead of going back into that ballroom and saying or doing something I’ll regret in response to that bitch who has no problem stiffing veterans who’ve risked their lives for their country.”

She stared at him for a long moment before asking, “You heard that?”

“I heard everything,” Pipe told her.

He saw the dismay and embarrassment in her eyes before she straightened her shoulders. “No offense, but you in that tux would make me more of a target than if I was by myself,” she said with a glint of humor in her eyes.

Without hesitation, Pipe shrugged out of the tux jacket. He ripped the stupid bow tie off his neck and held both out to the doorman, who was probably used to the quirks of the wealthy people who attended events at the swanky hotel. The man took them without a word. Pipe then undid the buttons at the top of the white shirt, then took off his cufflinks, stuffing them into his pocket. He rolled up the sleeves of the fancy shirt, exposing the tattoos on both arms. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair, mussing the strands. “Can’t do anything about the shiny shoes, but maybe this is better?”

His skin tingled as her gaze ran over him. He didn’t see any judgement in her eyes, instead it felt as if she approved of him more like this than in his expensive duds. “I don’t live near here. I have to take the Metro,” she warned him.

Pipe shrugged. “Not near here is fine. It’ll give me more time to calm down.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to refuse. Tell him that she was perfectly able to get home by herself, which he had no doubt she was. He had a feeling this woman could do any-damn-thing she wanted without anyone’s help. But for some reason, he wanted to ensure her safety. Wanted to be someone she could lean on, even if just for tonight. For the time it took to get her home.

“Okay,” she said after a long pause.

Relief flooded Pipe’s veins. It was a surprising feeling. He’d been numb more often than not since getting out of the military. He’d gotten most of his tattoos as a way to feel something, even momentarily. Even if it was the pain of a needle. He’d begun to think he’d be stuck in this weird nothingness forever.

But somehow, this woman had managed to do in seconds what years of therapists and tattoos hadn’t…she’d broken through the ice encasing his entire being without even trying.

It was confusing and exciting at the same time.

Pipe turned to the doorman. “I have a buddy, his name is Owl…sorry, Callen Kaufman. Red hair…beard. He kind of looks like Ed Sheeran. If you can get my jacket and tie to him, he’ll take them off your hands.”

“Are you staying here, sir? I could give them to the front desk staff and they can put them in your room.”

“I’m not. Is that a problem?” Pipe asked.

“Not at all. I’ll find your friend.”

“Thanks.”

“It’s my job,” the doorman said.

Pipe could’ve let that go, but he didn’t. “No, it isn’t. Not really. And I didn’t miss the way you stood in front of Cora to protect her when I approached. Working in the service industry isn’t easy. I know, since I’m in it myself. I appreciate your assistance and working with me to make sure this woman gets home safely.” He pulled out his wallet and selected a fifty-dollar bill, holding it out to the man.

The doorman looked surprised, but reached for the tip. He nodded at Pipe. “Thank you.”

Pipe returned the nod, then turned to Cora.

She was staring at him with a confused expression. Was his being a decent human being that surprising? He had a feeling it was. At least to her…which pissed him off. “Ready?” he asked, gesturing to the street outside the doors.

She jerked as if surprised by the word, then nodded and turned to the door. The doorman immediately opened it and held it for them.

“Be safe,” he said as they exited into the night.

Cora turned left and started walking at a fast clip. Pipe immediately lengthened his strides until he reached her right side, closest to the busy street. They walked silently for a minute or two before she looked up at him.

Pipe stood at least half a foot taller than Cora, but for some reason she seemed larger than life. She walked with confidence, her eyes constantly scanned her immediate area, and he couldn’t help but grin when she refused to step aside as they neared a pair of men who were walking toward them. They both almost walked right into her before veering to the right to go around her. Obviously, they were used to women giving them the right of way on the sidewalk, which was extremely sexist and misogynistic, but so engrained in society, everyone simply accepted it.

Everyone except for Cora, apparently.

Pipe looked down and caught her eye, before she turned her attention to the sidewalk in front of her again. He had a feeling she was working herself up to say something to him, and he wasn’t wrong. She began to speak moments later. Fast and staccato, like if she didn’t get out what she wanted to say right that second, she’d chicken out and not say anything at all.

“I came tonight to bid on you and only you. I looked you up online. You and your friends. I know you co-own The Refuge out in New Mexico. That you guys were special forces. I know you were in the SAS, and I even saw the news articles about Alaska Stein, Jasna McClure, and Reese Woodall, about what each of them went through. I saved up every penny I could to win that bid.”

“Then bitch-face won,” Pipe said in a flat tone, a little leery that she seemed to know so much about him and his friends.

A snort escaped Cora. “Yeah. She’s hated me since high school. Would do anything to make my life miserable.”

“Why?”

“Why does she hate me? Um…because she’s a bitch?” Cora said with a shrug.

“No, don’t give a fuck about her. Why me?”

Cora stopped walking, and Pipe turned to look at her. She took a deep breath and said, “I need your help.”

“With what?” Pipe asked.

Instead of answering, Cora sighed and looked past him. “Shoot. This isn’t going how I thought it would.”

His lips twitched. “How’d you think it would go?”

“You’re full of questions,” she accused.

Pipe shrugged and realized he was actually enjoying himself. He hadn’t thought anything about this trip would be fun, but meeting this woman was more enjoyable than anything else had been in a long time. She was so unusual, and with every word, he was more and more intrigued. “Yup. I am. But I’m not the one who was willing to spend five thousand bucks to go to dinner with me just to ask for help.”

“Six,” she muttered.

“Pardon?”

“I had six thousand dollars,” she admitted, looking him in the eye. “And if I could’ve come up with more, I would’ve spent that too.”

“What’s so important that you were willing to spend so much?” Pipe asked.

“Not what. Who,” Cora corrected.

Surprisingly, disappointment hit Pipe. The only person he could imagine Cora spending that much money on was someone she loved. “Right,” he said. “I’m thinking we need to have this conversation somewhere else, not in the middle of the sidewalk in the dark.”

As if she could read his mind, tell that he’d mentally taken a step back from her, Cora reached out and put her hand on his arm. “It’s not like that,” she insisted.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Her name is Lara Osler. She’s my best friend. The only person in the world I trust with my whole heart. She’s in trouble and no one will listen to me. No one believes me. Not her parents, not the cops. They all think I’m crazy, that I’m just upset because she’s left town and I don’t have her around to mooch off anymore. Not that I would do that. Mooch off her, I mean. She’s helped me in the past, I won’t deny that, but she’s literally the only person in the world who gives a damn about me, and I refuse to believe she up and left without a word.”

The desperation and honesty in her tone made Pipe tense. She was genuinely worried about her friend and believed she was in danger. Anxious enough to go out of her comfort zone to attend a fancy bachelor auction, just to talk to him. The least he could do was give her a moment of his time. But not here. He didn’t like the dark, especially in a city he didn’t know.

“Come on,” he said, putting his hand at the small of her back and urging her to start walking again.

She did so without complaint, even though her brow was furrowed.

They walked for a few blocks until Pipe saw what he was looking for. When she tried to head toward the entrance to the Metro, he steered her to the left instead.

“Pipe?”

He couldn’t help but smile. He liked that she called him that. Brick and the others might prefer their women to use their given names, but he’d never felt like a “Bryson.” He’d been Pipe for as long as he could remember; it felt right for her to call him by his nickname.

“It’s not The Inn at Little Washington, but with the way we’re dressed, it’s probably a bit more appropriate,” he said, while nodding at the twenty-four-hour diner on the corner.

Cora stopped again, and Pipe was forced to stop with her. She looked up at him in disbelief.

“What? You want to eat somewhere else?” he asked.

“No, it’s fine. I just…you’re taking me to eat?”

“Yup.”

“Why?”

“You wanted to talk to me. I’m here and willing to listen.”

“Why?” she asked again, this time in a whisper.

Pipe decided to level with her. “Because something about you screams honesty. I’m a little wary that you know so much about me and my buddies, but what you said about your friend? That’s how I feel about the men I work with at The Refuge. If something happened to them, I’d do just about anything to make sure they were safe. I’m not promising you anything other than a free meal, but I’m intrigued enough to want to hear more.”

Cora swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a moment. Then they snapped open and she stared at him with narrowed eyes. “I’m not sleeping with you.”

Pipe frowned in confusion. “I don’t recall asking you to.”

“Many men don’t.”

Pipe didn’t understand for a beat…then he got pissed. “Taking you out to dinner doesn’t entitle me to sex. Doesn’t entitle any guy to a shag.”

“Sorry,” she said, not looking or sounding sorry at all. “I just had to make sure we were on the same page.”

Pipe was furious that Cora had such a low opinion of men.

No. It wasn’t that. He was mad that she obviously had a reason to think such things right off the bat.

If anyone needed someone she could trust, it was this woman. And he wanted to be that person for her. He knew without a doubt that once she let someone in, like her friend Lara, she’d defend him or her to the death if necessary.

She was the kind of woman he’d always wanted by his side. Someone who wasn’t scared to be with him, who would stick up for him, love him for who he was. It was almost a shame he wasn’t from DC. Not that Cora was interested.

But then…he remembered how she’d defended him to the bitch Eleanor, when she didn’t even know him.

His tattoos, beard, and long hair don’t make him a gang member or a violent person, just as your lack of tattoos doesn’t make you an upstanding citizen. Personally? I think his tattoos are sexy as hell. They tell me he’s a man who doesn’t give a shit about what other people think. People like you, who look down on him because of a little ink on his skin. You’d sully his reputation if he was ever seen with you.

“We’re on the same page,” Pipe said gruffly.

The relief in her entire body narked him off further, but also made him want to reassure her. Tell her that she could trust him, that he’d help her. But he kept his mouth shut because he didn’t know if he could help her. He needed more information. Once he knew what the situation was, he’d decide on his next steps.

They walked to the door of the diner and Pipe held it open for her. The waitress who came to greet them took one look at him and stiffened slightly. He wasn’t sure what she objected to—the full sleeves of tattoos, his longish hair and bushy beard, or maybe all those things combined, juxtaposed with the tuxedo pants, shiny shoes, and button-down shirt.

“Two, please,” Cora said firmly, subtly leaning into him. Without thought, he wrapped his arm around her waist as he kept his face as blank and unthreatening as possible.

He could see the waitress relax a fraction as she said, “Follow me.”

She led them to a booth in the back of the room, nowhere near the windows, which was fine with Pipe. He wanted Cora’s complete attention, and here in the back of the room, where the light was a bit dimmer, he’d have that.

“Stupid woman doesn’t realize that if the shit hits the fan while we’re here, you’d be the person most likely to run to her rescue.” She shook her head with a sigh.

Again, her defense of him made Pipe smile. She was like a mouse protecting an elephant, but somehow he knew down to his bones that her loyalty would be the greatest reward he could ever earn.

They made small talk as they looked over the menus then gave the waitress their order. When she walked away, Pipe put his forearms on the table and leaned in. “You wanted to win dinner with me to tell me your story, to ask for help for your friend. We’re here. Talk to me. Tell me all of it.”

Interestingly enough, she’d seemed nervous up until now. Had fiddled with her napkin, sipped the water the waitress had brought as if she needed something to do. But now that she was asked to talk about her friend, she lost some of her edginess. She copied his posture and leaned on the table as she began to speak.