She briefly met his eyes and looked away. “Yeah. After I’d been beaten and nearly killed by DeCosta, Frank punching me in the face was a definite deal breaker. He did it only once, but that was enough for me. No second chances. He found out about the money after the divorce. He’s hated me ever since for hiding it and denying him anything in our settlement.”

Jack briefly closed his eyes, seeing black eyes and split lips on her face. Rage boiled up again, but he fought it down. “The court didn’t make you split it?”

She blinked innocently, deliberately. “I was a poor dental student. What was there to split? I’d put the money in my dad’s name after mom died. Deep down I must have known it would go sour with Frank.”

Smart girl. “That would explain the ‘million reasons’ he had to be rude to you that night. He was talking about your money.”

She nodded. “And Celeste is convinced I cheated her husband out of his due. They both despise me.”

“So why did you give him money the first time?” He saw she’d forgotten about his original question.

“He was in debt to some bad people. The money went to them, not him.”

“You paid off his loans?”

“I wouldn’t call them loans,” she said dryly. “They were more like choking nooses around his neck. And impatient people had their hands on the other end.”

“He gambled?”

“Nasty habit. Sinks a lot of people. I guess you’d call me an enabler, but it never happened while we were married. This addiction cropped up afterward. I should have let him deal with it himself, but the money wasn’t a big deal to me. He swore he wouldn’t gamble anymore.”

Jack snorted. Right. “You think he’s in trouble again?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, but I would bet he’s deep in debt to someone. He’s probably happy to be in jail. He’s safe there.” She looked thoughtful. “I could have Michael figure out who he owes. He’s got tons of sources at the newspaper.”

“Who?” Jack’s throat tightened. “Are you referring to Michael Brody by any chance?” Jack mangled the words, his tongue not working right. “My buddy at The Oregonian? He’s a friend of yours? You’re not referring to the reporter who’s in charge of digging up my past and plastering it on the front page?”

Her mouth opened and then closed as she rapidly blinked. Steam built in his chest, and he was about to press the subject when someone knocked on her door. An angry, pounding knock.

Their eyes locked and they sat motionless. Lacey knew only one person who would show up at her house at three in the morning. And usually he didn’t knock; he walked right in, using his key. Oh, shit. This could be ugly. Jack’s accusations about Michael’s articles echoed in her brain. She slipped off her stool, but Jack gripped her forearm.

“Don’t answer that.”

“You think somebody who wants to hurt me is going to knock on my front door?”

Lacey headed for the door again, but he hung on. She turned to him and was surprised to see the overprotectiveness on his face. Caveman.

“Don’t.”

She shook off his arm. “I know who it is.” He really had appointed himself her protector. How much of this could she put up with?

He tailed her to the door, nearly stepping on her heels. “Who? Who’re you expecting?”

“I’m not expecting anyone. But I know only one person who shows up on my doorstep anytime he likes. It’s gotta be him.”

“Him? Him who?”

Was that jealousy she heard? Or just the caveman speaking again?

Peeking through the peephole, she flipped the bolt and opened the door. “Jack Harper, I don’t believe you’ve personally met your buddy, Michael Brody.”

There on the porch with his hands stuffed in his jean pockets stood a brooding Michael. He dragged his pissed-off gaze from Jack’s truck in the driveway to Jack. Obviously, he’d known she wasn’t alone. And he’d probably known who was in her home. Silence settled among the three.

Lacey’s gaze bounced from one man to the other as they stared each other down.

They both were tall and well built, but Michael had a lean, whipcord look. Jack was simply solid everywhere. Protectiveness and possessiveness were high on each personality list, but Michael tended to clam up when he was annoyed, and she’d quickly learned that Jack pushed a subject to the edge. Jack projected cop-like confidence and assertiveness while Michael was more of a sly I-can-kick-your-butt-with-karate type.

Without a word, Jack turned around and strode back to the kitchen. Still at the door, Michael scanned Lacey’s face, touching her cheek with a gentle hand. “You OK?”

She nodded.

“What happened last night? I had to hear from a police source that you were nearly assaulted.” Michael guided her into the kitchen.

Jack had slipped back onto his barstool, relaxed, and sipped his coffee, letting Michael know he’d been there first. Michael ignored him and strode to the fridge, pulled out the orange juice, and drank directly from the carton. Jack stiffened.

Michael proceeded to open a cupboard, grab a mug, and help himself to the coffee.

Startled from her absorption of studying the two men, Lacey blinked at him. “Oh. Frank. You know…being his usual self.”

“He cornered her alone at the dental school, threatened her, and nearly gave her a black eye.” Jack filled in the important parts.