Keeping 6 (Rock Point Book 1)

by Freya Barker

With the salad and dressing made, the asparagus as well as the goat cheese and spinach-stuffed chicken breasts roasting in the oven, we take our wine glasses out to the deck. The view is breathtaking, especially in the early evening sunlight. You can only hear the sound of rushing water from the river and an occasional animal cry. Nothing else.

  Bella tells me a little about the break up with her boyfriend, who sounds like a grade A asshat. Engrossed in her story and with the din of the river in the background, I don’t notice Damian coming home until I feel his hands on my shoulders. Odd that I seem to recognize him immediately by his touch only. I tilt my head back to look up at him, standing behind my chair. He looks exhausted, stress clearly lining his face. Still he manages to smile down at me.

  “Something smells amazing,” he says, as he leans in and kisses me upside down. His goatee tickles my nose and a shiver runs down my spine.

  “All right, you lovebirds,” Bella teases as she jumps up. “I’ll get dinner sorted so you two can...catch up.” She winks as she disappears inside. Damian moves around me and sits down in her chair, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands wringing in between, and his head hanging low. He is the picture of someone who carries the weight and responsibility of the world. When I tentatively reach out and cover his hands with my own, he turns one palm up and laces his fingers with mine.

  “I don’t have any news on Marya,” he says solemnly, knowing that would be my first question.

  DAMIAN

  I hate seeing disappointment on her face.

  I spent the past three hours going over all the details of the case with the full task force. Even Boris Parnak, with the La Plata County Criminal Investigations Unit, had been pulled away from his busy workload. With everyone present, it dawned on me it was entirely possible that one of these people might not be there with the best of intentions. It made me sick to my stomach to think that one of our own might be involved. I guess James picked up on my scrutiny at some point since he threw me a questioning glance, which I pointedly ignored.

  First point on the agenda had been Kerry’s car. Keith was grilled by both Ella and James. He managed to dodge Ella’s vocal displeasure, at his failure to wait for her, by explaining he felt speed was of the essence since it would appear someone was playing fast and loose with Kerry’s safety. I could tell Ella wanted to argue, but given that Keith’s first responsibility is to the public, she quickly drew in her claws.

  Ella had some news, too. Apparently Interpol had just discovered that Troy Sinclair had made his way to France and boarded a plane from Paris’ de Gaulle Airport to Denver about three weeks ago. He’d been in Colorado the entire time and immediately became prime suspect for running Kerry off the road.

  The disappearance of the shipment of books from Kerry’s car seemed to raise concerns. Boris had brought in fingerprint reports from the break-in at the store, and at that point there was no question the cases were related. Boris confirmed one partial print, found on a shard of glass from the display case, was identified as Troy Sinclair’s.

  James, who had focused on the U.S. component—the auction house—reported that he is close to shutting down their online operations. His team may have pinned down a physical location, and they were moving with caution, for fear they’ll alert whoever is behind it.

  When Keith brought up Marya’s untimely disappearance, he barely had a chance to get into specifics before the meeting broke up. I was relieved. I didn’t want to get into too many details to begin with. Inevitably Kerry’s name would’ve come up, and I wasn’t about to tell them she’s safely at my place.

  Keith lingered when everyone else left, never having mentioned the listening devices and cameras we discovered. I didn’t volunteer that information either, but it sat like rancid butter in my stomach, and he quickly updated me on the search for Marya. He’d spoken to her mother, who told him she hadn’t heard from her since the night before. She’d called to wish the boys goodnight and mentioned she was going out on a date. She also confirmed her daughter would not just up and leave on her own accord. Keith apparently had to stop her from heading back to town immediately. Used her grandsons to force it home by telling her the best she could do for her daughter was to make sure her sons were shielded and looked after. She reluctantly gave in, but only after he’d promised to stay in close contact with her.

  “Are you okay?” Kerry’s voice breaks through my thoughts, and I capture the hand she reaches out in mine.

  “Yes,” I answer, giving her hand a squeeze. “Frustrated I can’t give you some good news, that’s all.”

  I give her a short, modified version of the meeting, sticking only with the results of the fingerprint analysis and Blackfoot’s phone call with Marya’s mother.

  “I’m afraid for her...”

  “I know you are, but we’ll find her,” I promise, not quite able to vow for her well-being when or if we do.

  “Dinner’s on the table,” Bella calls out, and I pull Kerry up from her chair.

  “I AM SO FULL,” BELLA says, leaning back in her chair with her hands over her stomach.

  Dinner was great. I’m getting used to these homemade meals waiting for me, and that’s a dangerous thing. I can fry an egg, maybe toss together an omelet, and of course, I grill a mean steak, but that’s about all you’ll get out of me. Mostly I pull something quick from the freezer when I get home or pick something ready-made up when I leave work. Yeah, I’ll miss Bella when she finds her own place.

  I noticed Kerry hardly ate at all, but my sister kicked my shin under the table the one and only time I commented on it. The angry glare she shot me when I was about to ask her what the heck she did that for shut me right up. I’m too tired to get into anything.

  “If you don’t mind,” Kerry says softly from beside me. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.” She gets up and starts clearing away plates, when I take them from her.

  “Go on. I’ve got these. I’ll be up soon, too.” With my free hand, I tag her behind the neck and pull her in for a kiss. With a little wave of her hand at Bella, she disappears up the stairs.

  “You’re staring.”

  I turn to my sister, who is grinning wide. “Better than looking at you, kid,” I fire back, slipping past her to the kitchen, where I dump the dishes in the sink. Bella follows me in, carrying the rest of the stuff from the table.

  “I like her for you, Damian.” I turn on the tap to fill the sink, when I feel Bella’s arms wrap around me from behind. “Don’t fuck it up,” she adds.

  I snort loudly. “Seeing as I’ve never looked at a woman I could see in my future before, I’d say chances are pretty solid I’ll do just that. Fuck up.”

  “All you need to learn is three little words,” my wiseass sister says.

  “Don’t rush me, Bella. It’s too soon.” I’m not sure I’m ready for declarations of love. She pinches my sides—hard.

  “Not talking about I love you, dimwit. Might be early for that, but it’s never too soon to learn to say I am sorry. It’s kind of a mandatory addition to your vocabulary when you are of the male persuasion.”

  “Right. I’ll keep that in mind.” I don’t bother telling her that I’ve already had an occasion or two where I’ve had to apologize to Kerry. Another first for me.

  “I’ll clean these up in the morning,” Bella says, shoving me away from the sink. “Go see if she can find everything okay.”

  I hook my arm around her neck and kiss her on the head. “You’re the best.”

  “Yeah, whatever. Get out of here.” She rolls her eyes and turns back to the sink, but I can see the smile on her face.

  I make it up the stairs and pause outside the bedroom door, lifting my hand to knock before I change my mind and push open the door. Knocking feels too much like taking a step back, and that’s not what I want.

  But the room is empty. The connecting door to the bathroom is open, but it’s empty, as well. When I spot the door connecting to my bedroom at a crack, I perform an inner fist pump.
<
br />   “There you are,” I whisper when I see the outline of her body buried under my covers. Quietly, so I don’t wake her up, I step back in the bathroom, going through my nightly routine of brushing my teeth and shedding my clothes. She’s still in the same position when I sneak up on the bed. Her hair is spread out on the pillow, and her face is barely visible under the sheets she’s pulled up around her ear. I carefully slip in behind her. The instant my hand finds her hip, she rolls toward me and opens her eyes.

  “Do you mind? I just—”

  “I’m glad,” I tell her honestly, rolling on my back and pulling her on top. “Whatever you need, Gypsy.”

  “I need you,” she says, her fingers trailing up my neck and into my hair, her soft mouth pressed to mine, a clear invitation.

  My hands slide down to cup the cheeks of her ass as heat is fueling our kiss. She pulls her knees up to rest on either side of my hips and rocks herself on the length of my cock. My fingers look for the edge of her panties but all they find is the silky feel of skin.

  “Fuck,” I groan, slipping my fingers through her slick folds.

  “Promise me you’re clean,” she pants against my lips, tilting her ass up to give me better access, while continuing to rub herself on me.

  “Testing is part of my annual physical, and I never go without,” I grunt as her hips pick up speed.

  “Never?” she moans and I clasp her hips, stilling her movements. She lifts her head a little, and I can see the question in her eyes.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m on the pill.”

  She barely gets the last word from her lips before I’ve lined up my cock and surge my hips up, burying myself to the hilt.

  “Jesus...” I hiss at the intense sensation. The last time I went bareback was my first time at fifteen, not old enough to be able to enjoy the feeling, I was too busy getting off. The period of sheer panic for two months after, when the girl told me she thought she might be pregnant, ensured I spent the rest of my life properly protected.

  I bring my knees up, feet planted in the bed, and pull back slightly before I surge back up. Kerry throws her head back and grabs my legs with her hands behind her and finds her rhythm riding me as I fuck her from below. The soft grunts and open-mouthed moans as much a turn on as the feeling of her arousal coating my dick. It doesn’t take long before she falls forward, changing her angle to look for completion. I power inside her more forcefully and grind my root against her clit at the end of each thrust. My leg muscles are burning, but I am beyond caring as my hips buck erratically in the chase of my own release. Just as I feel her pussy spasm around me and her teeth sink into my shoulder, I teeter over the edge. My mouth wide open and my head tilted back, I grunt as each stream of semen is forced from my body to hers. We don’t move, we simply cling to each other, still very much connected, waiting for our heartbeats to calm and our breathing to slow down.

  Just moments later, I can feel her body get heavier on mine as she falls back asleep. This is something I could easily get used to, skin-to-skin, her breath against my skin and my arms keeping her close—safe.

  The faint ringing of a phone wakes me the next morning and has Kerry stirring in my arms. It’s not my ringtone, but Kerry seems to recognize it, because all of a sudden she’s scrambling to get out of bed. Before I can say anything, she’s rushing toward the bathroom door, and I swing my legs out of bed and start following her.

  She’s standing beside the spare bed, rifling through her purse, when she finally pulls free her phone. Her eyes grow big when she checks the display and immediately looks for me as she accepts the call.

  “Marya?”

  CHAPTER 18

  “Meet me in half an hour at Greenmount Cemetery, northwest corner, there’s a trail just beyond the cemetery grounds.”

  He’s not given a chance to respond as the line goes dead.

  He knew he fucked up. Hopefully, he’d be able to do some damage control before the bottom fell out completely. The pressure had been building to show his efforts were paying off, but so far nothing has gone as planned. The shipment was still missing, and now his carefully placed surveillance had been compromised.

  His mistake had been to think he could manipulate that little store clerk. She’d come in handy to get access to the shop and keep him updated on her boss’s schedule. Heck, she’d been the one to spill that her boss was picking up the box from Cortez. It had all gone south when he thought he could quickly check the camera feed off his laptop while she was sleeping in the next room. She’d caught him staring at a picture of the inside of her boss’s house. She freaked and he panicked, needing to shut her up.

  She’d gone down instantly when he hit her, and he’d been able to load her in his new rental. He tried to wipe down the obvious things he’d touched in her place but couldn’t be sure if he got them all. Grabbing her purse and her phone was a last ditch effort to perhaps make it look like she’d taken off for the day, before anyone would clue in.

  The drive from her place to his hotel was easy, there were hardly any people or cars on the street in the middle of the night. Luckily, he’d had the foresight to get a room at the far corner of the hotel. He could park right by the back door that had stairs going straight up to his room. The only door he had to pass was a service door. Other than the night janitor in the lobby on the far side of the building, no one was up and about. A good thing, too, since the woman draped over his shoulder was as naked as the day she was born.

  He’d been rattled, not sure what to do with her now he had her in his room, and when she came to, he may have been a little too forceful. He had to get her to stop her screaming. He tossed her bag on the bed, and with one hand had grabbed her throat, while with the other had twisted her arm up behind her back.

  Now she’s lying on the bathroom floor, looking nothing like the pretty brunette he’d had no trouble using for his purposes. In fact, it had been quite pleasurable, she’d turned out to be a bit of a wildcat. Unfortunately, however distasteful it would be, he couldn’t let her blow the whistle on him and would have to take care of her in a more permanent way.

  First he had to try and smooth over things with his partner, whose cold anger had been palpable, even through the phone. For just a second he wondered if he should be afraid, but then he reminded himself he was invaluable to this operation.

  It would be his last mistake.

  CHAPTER 19

  Kerry

  “I’m so sorry.”

  It takes my brain a little to register the faintly whispered words.

  I hadn’t planned on crawling into Damian’s bed, but I needed to feel something familiar. Something safe. I’d brushed my teeth, donned an old nightshirt, and simply stood there in the door to his bedroom. Not like me to be needy, but tonight I wanted to feel safe. The moment I recognized his scent on the sheets, I was able to let my body relax. When I’d felt his touch, I let my instinctive needs take over before falling into a deep sleep in the protection of his body.

  I could’ve slept for days if the sound of Marya’s ringtone on my phone hadn’t dragged me awake. I try to ignore the stickiness that clings to me as I rush through the bathroom to the other side.

  “Marya? Where are you? Are you okay?” I’m shooting questions off as Damian sits down next to me on the bed.

  “I’ve been so stupid,” she says on a sob.

  “Oh, honey, whatever it is, we’ll fix it. I’ve been so worried.” Tears of relief are running down my face.

  Damian, who’s trying to listen in, gently takes the phone from my hands and puts it on speaker.

  “Marya? This is Damian Gomez. Are you alone?”

  “I am now. I think I’m in a hotel room.”

  “Do you know which one? Which hotel? Are you still in Durango?”

  “I don’t know,” she cries out. “I woke up on the bathroom floor, my phone was on the bed in the room. I have no clothes.” The last is whispered so low I can barely make it out.

  “Honey
,” Damian says patiently. “Here’s what you do. Wrap yourself in a sheet from the bed. Can you do that right now?” We can hear some rustling in the back before she comes back on the phone.

  “Good. Now put the night lock on the door. You know what I mean, right?” When Marya answers affirmative, Damian continues, “Are you able to look out the window? Describe what you see?”

  Damian leans in and whispers in my ear. “Grab my phone from my jeans in the bathroom. Keith’s number is speed dial seven. Call him.” I hurry into the bathroom, hearing Damian calmly questioning her. My heart and mind are both racing. She sounds hurt. She’s not okay. With fumbling fingers, I find Damian’s phone and hit seven.

  “Son of a bitch, Gomez. I’ve been up all goddamn night. What do you want now?” Keith’s angry voice blasts in my ear.

  “It’s Kerry,” I tell him. “Marya’s on the phone. Something is wrong. Damian has her on speaker and is trying to find out where she is. He asked me to call you.”

  “Christ, Kerry. Okay, this is good...take the phone to Damian. So I can listen in.”

  I pad over to the bed, where I hear Marya’s weak voice describe a parking lot and the cars she sees. I hold Damian’s cell close, so Keith can hear.

  “...there are two motorcycles parked side by side. Oh, I see smoke. There’s smoke coming up from behind a fence on the far side of the parking lot.” A second later, we clearly hear a distinct train whistle.

  “You did good. I think we have a good idea where you are. Have you met Detective Blackfoot, Marya? He’ll be knocking on your door soon, and you’re going to ask a question that I’ll make sure only he can answer. He answers right, you can open the door. Does that sound okay? Hang in there, honey. I’m going to give you back to Kerry for a minute.”

  Damian starts barking into the phone, and I quickly take mine off speaker so Marya can’t hear. “Did you hear that? The Durango-Silverton line. Yes. That’s what I think, there are just a few near enough for her to see the smoke. Right.” The next twenty minutes I spend listening to my friend say sorry, over and over again, as she quietly sobs. Every now and then I ask her if she’s all right, but I don’t ask her much else. I manage to glean she probably has a broken arm, she’s sore all over, and there’s blood covering her naked body. This information I pass on to Damian quietly and he relays to Keith via text. Until the police find her, I just want to keep her, and myself, as calm as I can, but I badly want to ask who did that to her.