by Raven Scott
Darren sucked in a sharp breath.
Shrewd, brown eyes met mine across the small table. They seemed to see everything in me and I shrunk a little into my seat.
Carlyle’s gaze morphed like he was looking at a bug trying to hide under a rock, his lip curling slightly. “I suppose it could happen...”
“No.” Dismissing Carlyle’s threatening words with a wave of his hand, Darren frowned sourly. “I don’t think he’d be that stupid.”
Some of the tension seeped from my shoulders into my seat, and I managed a shallow breath of relief.
“Carlyle,” slipping into the conversation, Vanessa reached to past him her phone, and the air seemed to get lighter. “I need you to approve my time off for August.”
Resting my head on Darren’s shoulder, I closed my eyes and took a deep, stabilizing breath.
“You’re taking time off? You’ve never done that before.”
Cracking open my eyes when Carlyle’s eyes lifted from me, I pursed my lips thinly.
“Mind if I ask why?”
“I got invited to Las Vegas with a friend.”
The distraction seemed to take all the attention off Darren and I, as he wrapped his arm around me protectively. Exhaling slowly, I settled into my seat and pulled up my knees.
“Nothing will happen, Delilah,” his murmur was sure, a dark whisper of a promise.
A shiver lodged between my shoulder blades, and my mouth dried. Every horror movie I’d ever watched came flooding into my mind’s eye.
Everyone knew that scene when a group of people went to do something fun, and it ended horribly with some comedically awful deaths of secondary characters. Only, this time we weren’t going to some cabin without our cellphones and nothing to protect us but empty beer cans. We were going to the hub of violent white supremacy during one of t heir most active times of the year.
God, I hope I’m just being overdramatic.
13
Darren
“You okay?” I instantly felt stupid asking when Delilah practically sneezed herself into a neck brace as she sniffled viciously. Her nose burned red, eyes watering slightly when they turned to me. Portland, Oregon was just another city to me, but I could see all the memories of her childhood flashing in her glazed gaze. “Are you sure you don’t want to go to the hotel for a little?”
“I’ll be okay. I have some Zertec somewhere...” Even her voice sounded nasally as she dug into her purse. “I want to get this over with. I know you were wanted by the Russians and whatever, but I was thinking on the plane.”
My brows twitched in interest, but Delilah didn’t say anything more as she pulled out a little pill bottle. The green label flashed in the bright sun, and I tore my gaze off her to glance around. Downtown Portland looked just like every other city I’ve ever been to in America. The streets were congested with people enjoying themselves despite the slighting biting chill of an oncoming storm. Out of the corner of my eye, Delilah dry-swallowed her allergy pill, blubbering a sigh as she shook her head a little.
“I don’t even know what I was thinking,” she said.
Smiling small, I wrapped my arm around her.
She pointed at the nearest convenience store on the corner. “I need a drink. I didn’t think my allergies would be so bad.”
“Come here.” Turning around, I held my arms behind my back.
Delilah snorted a weak giggle. Carefully climbing piggyback, she slung her arms around my neck.
I hiked up her knees gingerly. My t-shirt strained a little, and I was suddenly glad that I’d taken off my button down and forgot it on the plane. “I guess this is what they mean when they call guys stallions.”
My joke earned me another snort of a laugh, and warmth spread through my chest. Straightening to stride down the sidewalk, I savored the feel of her snuggling against my back. Even though her breath labored, and her face was hot against my neck, Delilah felt like home.
“Sometimes, it’s hard to remember that you’re a violent gang lord.” Her lips brushed my neck as she blubbered a soft sigh. “I don’t know. Whenever you think of the mafia or whatever, it’s always dangerous and stressful and constantly shadowing everything you do, but...the reality is that it’s just a business, and businesses are boring.”
My smile widened. “Good business is boring, baby. When I was in the Middle East, all that shit was real and it sucked. Especially once Aleksander tried to come after me. I’d much rather be here. At least, Carlyle doesn’t play games.” Grabbing the door handle, I ducked a little on the way into the convenience store.
Delilah sniffed hard in acknowledgment.
I glanced around, searching the refrigerators on the wall directly to my right. “I honestly don’t think anything’s going to come from him. He had several chances, and he missed all of them. Now, if he comes after me, he goes after Carlyle, and he can’t take that confrontation lightly.”
“What do you think would happen? I mean, Carlyle’s got his fingers in every pot, but it can’t be that easy for him to take down someone so important, right?”
Eh-h...Pursing my lips thinly, I didn’t answer immediately. The truth was that Aleksander Makovich’s security was absolute shit, everyone that worked under him hated him, and he had some insane ideas no one wanted to get behind. There were so many reasons to fear riling up Carlyle and even Aleksander should acknowledge them. “I don’t think it’d be all that difficult to kill him. We’re not talking about destabilizing Russia to the point of collapse. It’d just be one assassination, and Carlyle’s more than capable of achieving that. Despite how safe Aleksander thinks he is, I’m absolutely positive that Carlyle’s got people in Russia.” I couldn’t wrap my head around how this situation could develop. Obviously, Carlyle was playing the long game— a much longer game than Aleksander’s half-baked plan to become Prime Minister. Sliding open the refrigerator, I bent down a little to let Delilah grab whichever bottle she wanted. “It’s not really my place, and it never has been. Carlyle wants me to do counseling, but he promised not to be too intrusive in his expectations. I have no reason to doubt him.”
“He’s really an okay dude, I guess...if you look at it a certain way.” Even through her nasally tone, Delilah sounded so grumpy about her admission.
Chuckling a little, I only nodded in agreement on the way to the register. “If everyone that knew him wrote something about him, he’d never get the same observation twice. That’s impressive, at the very least.”
Before the minute was up, we were back on the street and I scanned the area. a heavy atmosphere seemed to loom, barely discernible above the heads of so many people enjoying the nice weather. The nearby strip mall was packed, but more bodies were idling than moving. Wandering over to the crowd, I tightened my grip on Delilah’s legs when she leaned back to pop the cap of her bottle.
“Can you see what’s going on?” I asked her. Over the hum of the crowd, I could catch some virulent words being strewn around. Shouldering my way through the crowd, tension zinged up and down my legs. The familiar sensation of threat raised the hairs on the back of my neck, and I let go of Delilah so she could slide off my back. My gun hung heavy on my hip, and my palm itched as my heart thundered hard against my ribs.
“Oh, no...” Delilah’s wheezing gasp echoed my thoughts.
I paused when I saw the scene being gawked at. Two white guys were taunting a police officer and disgust turned my blood to sludge in my veins. The officer seemed calm as he stood between the two men and a teenage girl. Her dark, caramel skin flushed with anger with each insult hurling around the officer, and she shook with a mix of rage and embarrassment.
“Darren."
Glancing over at Delilah, I frowned when she shook her head silently. Wrapping my arm around her, I rocked back on my heels with a sourness sticking my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
“I went to high school with those guys,” she replied.
“You’re seriously going to betray your people and protect that ni—”
/>
Suddenly, vicious words rose above the blood drumming in my ears, and I tensed. Memories clashed behind my lids as the world moved in slow motion. How often had I seen innocent people get killed over ethnicity or religion? How often did I make deals for weapons used to kill those innocents just because someone decided to be intolerable?
Before I could stop myself, I shoved my way through the crowd. My blood boiled, the air becoming increasingly thin as both guys and the cop looked my way.
My knuckles collided with the one guys’ face hard enough to rattle up my arm, and he stumbled back. His head whipped to the side, revealing an ugly, badly drawn Swastika tattoo emblazoned on his neck. The whole area became silent—I clenched and released my jaw as blazing, brown eyes met mine. “If you’re going to spew sewage about people, don’t be a pussy about it and attack a tiny girl.” My accent came out thick, and I took a threatening step forward.
The guy wiped blood from his jaw and spit. He missed my shoes, but that only seemed to make him angrier. Even his ears turned a vibrant red…redder than the blood dribbling from his chin.
“Let’s get out of here. This isn’t fun anymore.” The second man grabbed his friend by the shirt and stormed off.
I fumed at his parting words. Turning around to rub my hand over my mouth, I flexed my fingers hard. The cop started to disperse the crowd.
Delilah came trotting over to me to touch my arm comfortingly. “You shouldn’t have done that, Darren.”
Her mumble was like a bucket of cold water being dumped on me and I frowned darkly. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the cop had struck up a conversation with the girl being harassed.
Delilah grabbed my arm with both her hands. “Let’s get out of here before you get arrested.” She practically dragged me back towards the convenience store.
I ground my teeth hard. Glancing behind me, the cop simply watched me with appraising eyes, and the sourness on my tongue turned bitter. That poor girl was crying, but from what I could see, this wasn’t a new experience for her.
“I guess people are the same no matter where they are in the world.” Disgusting.
My mumble came just before Delilah paused her furious stride to turn to me. A fierce ache sprung behind my eyes, and I flung my arms around her when she opened her mouth to yell at me. Burying my face in her gorgeous, red hair, I groaned softly in foreboding. “That was a mistake. I can feel it. See…this is why I’m a bad guy. Being a good guy is too stressful.”
“Don’t be any guy, Darren. What if they try to deport you?”
My brows rose, and my heart stuttered at her grumble against my sternum. I forgot about that.
Soft hands caressed up my back, and she sighed hotly into my t-shirt to pull back and kiss my chin. “Just don’t, okay? I’m gonna be real mad if you get in trouble.”
“Put the fear of God into me, woman,” I teased.
Giggling a little, she tightened her grip around my waist as I swayed us side to side. Her clogged sinuses were easing, the puffiness and redness around her nose a little less noticeable than a few minutes ago. “Welcome to Portland.”
14
Darren
The sun cast a golden glow on the world by the time Delilah and I managed to wander through the city of Portland, Oregon, it was pretty sprawling. She’d pointed out places from her memories and monuments that were of lesser value to me. Deep in a suburb that I wouldn’t be able to navigate my way out myself, she slowed her pace noticeably.
All these houses looked similar, and I paused to turn to her before she stopped. “You can still back out if you want, baby.” I was drenched in sweat despite the cool weather, and Delilah’s allergies were obviously still bothering her. The pill she’d taken had helped, although not enough. She looked tired, the red around her eyes looked dark and her face kept dragging when she sniffled hard. If I had to guess, that was the point…to wear down her resistance to seeing her family.
Flipping the cap of her water bottle, Delilah shook her head and squirted water all over her face and the back of her neck.
I stuffed my hands into my jeans, rocking back on my sneakers to watch her bend over and shake her head more viciously. Her beautiful hair clung to her face and around her neck, and a small smile tilted my lips.
“I’m okay.” Holding the bottle between her legs, Delilah smacked her cheeks lightly and huffed a labored breath. “I’m good. I can do this. I mean, my mom wouldn’t have called if she didn’t want to fix things, right?”
“Right.” What else could I say? Delilah’s issues with her mom were her issues, and all I could do was support her.
She jutted her chin out, pursing her lips thinly as she swept back her dual-colored hair.
Pride bubbled in my chest and I gestured her forward with a wave of my arm.
Some of her jitters fled from her vivid, green eyes as Delilah sashayed past me and down the sidewalk.
Taking her hand, I squeezed comfortingly. My mind turned to my own mom, but our relationship hadn’t been bad, exactly. She just didn’t want me to turn out like my father, and that worry had paid off. I didn’t get involved with the Russian Bratva until after she died, so she never suspected who I would become. “My mom is dead, but I’m sure she would’ve liked you, Delilah.” Her already pink face tinged up to her ears, and my smile widened. My mom was very strong, outspoken, wouldn’t hesitate to kick my ass or make it very clear how she felt about what I did…good or bad. “Even if she didn’t approve of it, she always appreciated people taking a step to be brave.”
“Brave? Talking to my mom after 5 years of no-contact isn’t all that amazing.” The sidewalk broke for a smooth, crackless driveway, and Delilah hesitated slightly before stepping down. “To be honest, I’m scared what will happen. What will she say? What about my dad? They’re both very much ‘talk first, think second’ people that don’t like admitting they were wrong. That’s the whole reason I left in the first place. The moment I told my mom about my new job, she went off on this rant and hung up on me, and I just never accepted her calls or texts or anything again.”
“Doing anything you’re afraid of is brave, baby. It was brave of your mom to call you, and it’s brave of you to see her.” You shouldn’t act different...The memory from our date blossomed in my mind’s eye. I had never had a reason to want to keep someone happy. Even the last five years of suffering, I had never really made Delilah happy. We screwed around every few months, and I overstepped a lot. Watching her wet hair seep into the back of her shirt, my eyes narrowed into slits.
Now that I was here, in America, it never ceased to amaze me that Delilah put up with all my shit for so long. Truly, she was a wonderful woman, and I was luckier than the Devil.
“...There it is.”
Delila’s parents’ house was on the corner, with a cul-de-sac on one side and a side street on the other. Wrapped in blue siding, with a little flower bed under a protruding window, it was a cute house. Well-kept and obviously taken care of, it didn’t scream my stereotypical image of racist, white trash. Maybe her parents aren’t racist white trash? All I knew was that her brother was, but he had to learn it somewhere, right?
Surprise made its way through me when Delilah just marched right up to the deeply stained front door and knocked firmly. The walkway from the sidewalk wasn’t long, and little, purple bell flowers poked out of the ground. Standing behind her, there was no way for her mom to know she was the person at the door, and I rubbed her lower back soothingly.
As soon as the door cracked open, the sound of people arguing breathed through loudly. The barrier was thick enough that we hadn’t heard it before, and Delilah tensed against my palm. Who was obviously her mother looked tired and frustrated, with frown lines around her mouth and crows feet sprouting from her eyes. Until those green orbs met Delilah’s and widened in shock.
Delilah sort of shrunk against my hand as her mom’s jaw hit her sternum. The arguing behind the older woman grew louder and more aggressive, but the air in the doo
rway was dead still.
“D-Delilah...” Sputtering breathlessly, Delilah’s mother leaned on the door as her hand flew to keep her heart from jumping out of her chest. “What—what are you doing here? I tried calling you just this morning, but I had the wrong number...and-and now you’re...”
“Um… yeah. My boss made us come for the first fair for this upper management bonding thing...so I thought I’d stop by. I didn’t know you called me.” The lie was rocky at best, but Delilah’s tone didn’t waver as her cheek puffed out in what was probably a strained smile. “I was hoping we could talk.”
“Yeah—yeah, of course. I—let me just...Just a second. Come inside.” For the first time, Delilah’s mother noticed me, and her eyes widened until the green was almost gone. “Who’s this? Your boss?”
“No. This is Darren, my boyfriend.”
Holding out my hand when Delilah leaned to the right, I smiled at the star-struck look in her mom’s face.
“A bunch of people brought their spouses and stuff, so I brought him.”
“Oh...that’s wonderful. I—ah, come in. Come in, please. I would’ve cooked if I’d know— ” She clamped her mouth shut before just moving out of the way.
I was beyond pleased when the tight muscles in Delilah’s shoulders relaxed a little. Here, I was an outsider…an observer a supporter, and I was more than okay with that.
The interior of the house was nice, but not gaudy, as Delilah’s mother led us to the kitchen through the living room. Aside the entryway and across from the kitchen was the dining room, and beyond both was the living room.
The shouting had died at some point to just furious talking, but it was white noise in the background when Delilah’s mom turned to us. “So...you’re here for the fairs? Just this weekend, or...?” Hesitancy softened her tone.
Delilah and her mom sat down at a small table piled with bills. Many of them opened, some not, but it was clear the older woman was trying to get something done.