Three Sacred Words (Golden Arrow #2)

by Christina Lee

  It was hard not to give her some form of reassurance that I was watching, but she also needed to try to handle these guys on her own. Because if they realized she had nothing, they’d move on. And I wouldn’t be in town to protect her forever.

  I had Shane on standby in case we had to give chase and a plainclothes police officer was stationed in the park. I knew Joaquin was probably still sick in bed, so he wouldn’t be charging out the door to play.

  The seemingly calm conversation took a turn however. She appeared to be arguing, her voice rose—if her red face was any indication—and she motioned to her cell.

  I held back one minute more, as she swiped through her phone as if to prove a point—that Sparrow was using different phones with untraceable numbers.

  After the men got back in their truck and tore down the gravel road, I pulled my car around to the trailer. I’d told the undercover cop to follow them through town to be sure they left. It was time for them to be gone.

  Meadow opened the door before I had a chance to knock.

  “Were you watching?” she said, wringing her hands, an expectant gleam to her eye. I had the urge to comfort her. But I also knew she possessed an inner strength that many didn’t have.

  “I was close by,” I said, stepping fully inside and closing the door behind her.

  She ran a shaky hand over her braid.

  “Hey.” I stepped toward her but kept my hands to my side. “It’s okay.”

  “Yeah, I know,” she said, finally sitting down on her couch. “I think I convinced them that he doesn’t call often enough for them to stick around.”

  “You might be their only lead,” I said, telling her in my own way that she might face this again. “I don’t think Gloria is giving anything away either.”

  “Am I your only lead?” she said and then shook her head side to side. “Sorry, I’m just so mixed up.”

  “It’s understandable,” I said, kneeling down to her eye level. “I’m not here to hurt you. I hope you know that.”

  “I do know that,” she whispered as she gazed into my eyes. “It’s just . . . complicated.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said, reaching for her hand. She didn’t pull away and I wondered if this was the last time I would feel her skin against mine.

  “I just heard from the fire marshal. Their findings were that a cigarette was dropped in that back field,” I said and her features relaxed. “Could’ve been anybody. I hope that makes you breath more easily.”

  Her eyes widened as she nodded. “Do you think those men will leave town?”

  “The local police will make sure of that now.”

  She bit her lip. “But there are no guarantees?”

  “Right,” I said. “But at least there are plenty of eyes on them.”

  We stared at each other and the air was a mix of tension, but the confusion in her gaze helped me make a split decision.

  “Hey, listen, I’ll try to make things less complicated for you,” I said, standing up on weak knees and reluctantly dropping her hand. “Let me know if you need anything at all. I’ll still keep watch. Hope Joaquin is feeling better.”

  As I twisted the knob at the door, I felt Meadow’s warmth behind me. “Alex, wait.”

  I stood perfectly still, even though I wanted to turn and yank her into my arms.

  “I didn’t mean for it to sound like . . .” she said, her breath against my neck. “Joaquin . . . I . . . we enjoy your company.”

  My shoulders sagged. “You just wish it were under different circumstances?”

  “Exactly,” she said and I felt her fingers on my arm.

  “Same here,” I said and turned to meet her gaze.

  “Would you . . .” she hesitated. “Would you like to stay?”

  “On the couch?” I said, wondering if those men had scared her more than she’d admit.

  “I meant for dinner.” She laughed, the smile lighting up her whole face. “I’m pretty sure you’re sick of staying on those worn cushions.”

  “It’s not so bad,” I said, chuckling. “Besides, if it brings you peace of mind . . .”

  “Is that what you do for all the exes of fugitives you’re hunting down?”

  It was the first time she’d referred to Sparrow as a fugitive. Maybe she was finally seeing him for who he truly was.

  “The truth?” I asked, stepping into her space.

  She dipped her head and bit her lip.

  “Never.”

  Her breath hitched in the back of her throat.

  “Definitely complicated,” she mumbled and then backed away. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll get dinner started. Probably should show you that I can actually make something more decent that soup and sandwiches.”

  I grinned. “Believe me, I’m not complaining.”

  She opened the fridge. “Want a beer?”

  “Sure,” I said and then glanced down the hall. “Has Joaquin’s fever broke?”

  “A couple of hours ago. He should feel better by the morning.” she said, her cheeks lifting in a smile. “I just checked on him, told him to stay put, even if he heard voices again.”

  The line of her mouth turned grim for a split second, remembering her visitors.

  “Glad to hear he’s feeling better,” I said, twisting open my beer cap. “Can I say hello to him?”

  Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Of course. I just fed him more soup and was going to put him down for an early bedtime.”

  I walked to his bedroom door where he sat in his pajamas with a spread of picture books around him. “Hey, buddy.”

  His eyes lit up when he saw me. “Hi, Mr. Alex.”

  “What are you reading?”

  “A book about worms.”

  I sat down on the edge of his bed. “Sounds interesting.”

  “Not really. They eat a lot of dirt and don’t like the rain,” he said, holding the book up to show me. “But I’m getting sleepy.”

  “That’s because you’ve been sick,” I said. I couldn’t help myself from running my fingers through his unruly black curls. “I hear you’re feeling better though.”

  He nodded vigorously. “I hope I can go to school tomorrow.”

  When I looked up, I noticed Meadow watching from the doorway, a wistful expression on her face.

  “Okay, Joaquin,” she said. “I’m going to tuck you in.”

  When I stood up to change places with her the space was so small that her hip brushed close to my groin. I bit back a grunt as her gaze darted away, a flush stealing across her cheeks.

  “Is Mr. Alex staying?” Joaquin asked.

  “Honey,” Meadow said and looked back at me uneasily.

  “It feels nice when he stays,” Joaquin said and something squeezed tight in my gut. I wasn’t sure if I could inhale a decent breath.

  The room grew thick with tension and I noticed how Meadow also struggled to speak.

  “Sure,” I said, attempting to dissolve the pressure. “I’ll keep your mom company for a little while.”

  17

  Meadow

  Joaquin’s question about Alex reminded me that I was playing with fire and like that blaze near the swings, it would pick up speed and spread unless I stopped it, and stamped it out. But I couldn’t seem to help myself. There was something about having Alex there that was irresistible. And I hadn’t been around anybody so decent in a long time.

  So what was the harm in enjoying his company until he left town?

  But that thought still niggled in my gut that he came here for a very big reason. It wasn’t like we met in a bar or on a blind date. He didn’t even seek me out after noticing me last year. Maybe he thought I was off-limits, married with a child. He realized how wrong he was when Sparrow’s name came up in the system and he needed to head to this reservation, to follow a lead.

  It was strange to put myself in Alex’s place and follow that thought all the way through, but it also helped to understand why he was conflicted as well. It made me grasp his struggle, given
our electric attraction.

  And seeing him with Joaquin was torture. His instinct was natural—intrinsic for him—I knew that in my gut. He couldn’t flip that off. If an adult wasn’t interested in kids, they did not go out of their way to seek them out. I no longer thought he was attempting to butter either of us up. In my gut I felt that he was being genuine, which made this all the more difficult.

  “That was fantastic,” Alex said, carrying his bowl to the sink and I felt a blush creep up my cheeks. After our chili and corn bread dinner we retreated to the couch and flipped on the television, landing on a baseball game. Before a commercial break, they focused in on the Native American protest group gathered outside the stadium. They were against the use of the team mascot who resembled a cartoon character.

  “Does seeing that kind of thing upset you?” he asked tentatively.

  “It used to bother me more than it does now,” I said. “The misrepresentation is painful because it’s done in an absurd kind of way. Sure, we can poke fun at ourselves, but not when it’s been ingrained in this culture for so long. Most whites don’t even know what takes place on our reservations. But it’s getting better.”

  “I can understand that. It’s kind of like when whites think us spics,” he said using air quotes, “only speak one kind of Spanish or joke that we’re the world’s best lovers.”

  I felt my cheeks grow warm. “Well, aren’t you?” I said to lighten the mood.

  But it had the opposite effect. The air between us grew thick and his gaze intense.

  My breath hitched as he pushed the bangs from my eyes and his fingers scaled down my braid.

  “I like when you wear your hair like this.” His voice was gravelly as if he were only holding on to some measure of control.

  I placed my fingers on top of his and squeezed. “Thank you.”

  “You’re so gorgeous,” he whispered in my ear and my entire body heated at his words.

  “Your pretty gorgeous, yourself,” I said and stared into golden brown eyes, which had turned liquid with desire and something else—maybe affection.

  His hand grasped onto the back of my neck and gently tugged me forward as if asking permission. I responded by slanting my head, our lips merely a fraction away. We stared into each other’s eyes while our breath mixed and mingled.

  “Meadow,” he said in a strained whisper and then his lips met mine in a tender and lingering kiss. He drew away as if to gauge my reaction as my heartbeat ramped up in my chest. My breaths were shallow and my eyes were begging for more.

  His fingers tightened the connection between us and his lips were firmer this time, a low groan stealing from his throat. His tongue darted out to swipe against my bottom lip and I sighed, opening to him. He probed my mouth with gentle flicks before his tongue settled alongside mine in a deep and consuming kiss.

  It was intoxicating to breath in his musky scent and have his soft lips sealed firmly against mine. I didn’t want it to end and as I adjusted my fingers to his neck and then up to his hair I tugged him flush against me to show him just that.

  His hand slid down to brace my waist as his chest rubbed against mine, causing my nipples to pebble. The things he was doing with his tongue had my imagination running wild about him kissing me on other parts of my body as well.

  He hauled his mouth away and feathered kisses along my jawline before trailing up to my ear and licking along the edge.

  “You’re incredible,” he whispered and I moaned in response yanking at his hair and pulling his mouth back to mine. I licked at his full bottom lip and then teased the fleshy pillow, sucking as he hummed into my mouth.

  “Goddamn, what are you doing to me?” He devoured my lips, his tongue probing deep yet still caressing lightly. I clutched at his arms attempting to get closer, to angle our mouths to get more, more, more.

  He shifted again so that my back hit the cushion, his body sinking down on top of mine. I could feel his hard length against my hip and I became ravenous for him, my pelvis tilting at the right angle to feel him more intimately. It was hard not to lose myself completely in his scent, his touch, his sounds, as I pictured him being inside of me right then and there.

  But he never made a move to take it further and neither did I. Maybe because what we were doing felt so damn good or possibly we were both afraid of becoming too adrift in all of these amazing sensations. Regardless, holding him and kissing him was completely engrossing and the pressure of his hardness against my center was driving me into a concentrated state of bliss.

  After long minutes where the only sound was our breaths and our lips meeting again and again, I finally had the sense to drag my mouth away.

  We sat up panting and gaping at each other, neither willing to look away. He wiped at his plump mouth with his forearm, his lips shiny from our kisses and his hair mussed from my fingers.

  His hand was locked in mine and he looked down at our interlaced fingers. Our skin was practically the same tone of color and I imagined how smooth his body would look on full display.

  “It’s getting late,” I whispered, attempting to act sensible, when all I wanted to do was have him lie with me until our eyes closed for the night.

  He dipped his chin and made the motion to leave. I stilled him and ran my fingers over his mouth and cheeks and forehead. He looked so beautiful right then, his gaze bewildered and vulnerable.

  “Thank you,” I whispered against his lips, sneaking in one final kiss.

  “For what?” he said, pulling my body against his as if he couldn’t let me go. Not yet.

  “For being a decent man,” I said and his eyes softened. “My father was a good man. So was Mr. Nakos, and I know you helped bring him justice.”

  He looked like he was about to say something but then he simply nodded.

  “Do you want me to . . .” he wavered but then motioned to the cushion beneath him.

  It was selfish to ask him to stay on the couch but it would’ve been wrong to invite him back to my bed. Not with everything so up in the air.

  “I’d hate to ask, it must be so uncomfortable,” I said. “I think you should . . .”

  “I’d like to stay,” he said, without any more hesitation.

  We stared at each other for another long moment before I nodded.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said, standing and heading toward my bedroom. In the wastebasket, I dug around for what I was looking for. When I returned, I handed Alex the plain white envelope that had contained the cash from Sparrow.

  “I can’t see how showing you this might help the situation, but I will tell you that this delivery was different.”

  He inspected the heavy white paper in his fingers. “How?”

  “Usually it’s left in my mailbox. But this time he got it to me through somebody I know,” I said, making the decision to finally give him what he’d asked for. It was time.

  “Who?”

  “Gloria,” I said and bit my lip, guilty that I’d withheld the information for this long. That I’d been struggling for this long to know the right thing to do when it came to Joaquin’s father and my old friend.

  His gaze skated all around my face. “You protected her even though she hates you.”

  My neck heated up because he was right. “Guess I feel there’s still time for her to loosen up and accept the situation for what it is. We share a bond whether she wants to admit that or not.”

  “Tell me about it,” he said, slanting his head. “Your history with her.”

  “Don’t you already know it?”

  “Not your perspective.”

  He watched me as I took several deep breaths.

  “We all went to school together,” I said, shrugging, even though it was still painful to think about that time in my life, and how naïve I’d been. “She was always the bully. The leader. Hung around with girls she liked to order around.”

  “I could picture that perfectly.”

  “She had a thing for Sparrow all the way through graduation,�
�� I said, folding my arms. “Sparrow and I were still friends at the time. But soon enough, he convinced me to give him a chance, and I did. He ignored Gloria’s advances and that pissed her off.”

  “Jealousy can be a powerful emotion,” he said. “Can make you do stupid things.”

  I tapped my finger to my lips. “Like make up a false pregnancy story to get somebody to pay attention to you?”

  “Do you still think she made that up?” he asked, his face a blank slate.

  “I guess I don’t know for sure, but it makes sense that she could be that scheming. She was hell on wheels back then,” I said. “But I also know that there was hurt there, underneath it all. Still is.”

  “I wonder what lies she tells herself about him,” he said, staring past me to the wall.

  “She probably believes he’ll come back,” I said. “He did decide to sleep with her after all. After we broke up, he fell right into her arms.”

  “Why did you call it quits with him?”

  “Maybe because I could predict the future,” I said, shrugging. “Not the one you’re telling me about. But the one that involved Sparrow and me. He was too carefree, I always told him. He had a hard life but he never took responsibility for things.”

  Alex waited me out, allowing me silence to finish my thought.

  “I mean, he was always the charmer, but he ended up trying to do the right thing, you know? By marrying her,” I said, remembering how gutted I’d been. “That’s the part that trips me up. There were sides to him that were honorable.”

  “There usually are. That’s that grey area we were talking about before,” he said. “But criminals, at least the ones I deal with, begin piling up the crimes, even if they’re pretty decent family men or husbands.”

  I thought that through, my mind drifting to a faraway place. “He came to see me that one night, almost despondent. Said he didn’t want to be with her, he wanted to be with me. Said he wasn’t going to marry her, but he’d still raise that baby.”