I can hear muffled greetings in the background. “I’ll let you go.”
“Okay.”
“I’m gonna try and be there at least for the first half of the game tomorrow. Clint and Ma will be there to take Max after.”
“I could’ve dropped him off at theirs after the game.”
“Appreciate that. I didn’t ask because Ma already said they’d be there. Anyway, I should let you get to work and I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
“Yes, you will,” she almost whispers. “Looking forward to it.”
“Not as much as I am, Sweetheart.”
With that I quickly end the call, adjust my fly, and walk out of the conference room, almost knocking into Toni who’s leaning against the wall just outside the door.
“Ready?” she chirps, hiding a flash of shock behind a toothy smile, and I know in that moment she’s been listening in.
I briefly consider calling her out on it, but decide on a sharp look before marching past her instead. Probably best not to validate whatever fucked-up shit is going on in her head by giving it more attention.
The one positive: my hard-on is instantly subdued.
“ARE YOU WITH HER?”
We’re just leaving our first stop when she hits me with that.
I whip my head around. “Are you for fucking real?” At least she has the sense to look almost embarrassed.
“I’m just curious—” She immediately silences when I snap my hand up from the steering wheel, taking a deep breath in.
“I see you still haven’t gotten the message,” I bite off. “There is absolutely nothing—not a single fucking thing—appropriate about your question. Whatever makes you think you get to ask me something like that, get it out of your fucking head. You’re a grunt I have to put up with at the boss’s orders, because there’s no other way I’d be willing to even share the same air. You tossed the last of your rights in the trash last time I saw you, coming out of that clinic in Denver.”
I have to slam on the brakes when the lights turn red, the Expedition skidding a few feet into the intersection. Better keep my head, or I’m gonna get us both killed.
“Please don’t fucking talk,” I snap when I hear her suck in a breath. “Don’t say a word or, so help me God, I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”
There is no way I can work with this woman. The rage still blazes like it was yesterday when she’s around me. I’m going to have to talk to Damian first chance I get.
Rather than heading to the next address on our list, I turn us around and head straight back to the office. Damian’s truck is still in the parking lot. Ignoring her, I slam the SUV in park, get out, and head inside to have a talk with my boss. No time like the present.
I can hear her heels clicking behind me when I take the stairs two at a time.
“Dylan, please wait.”
I don’t listen and barge into the office. Damian and Jasper are bent over a map, both their heads snapping up at my noisy entrance. Two sets of eyes regard me curiously.
“Got a minute?” I direct at Damian, indicating his office.
He nods and starts heading there when the door flies open behind me, stopping him in his tracks. I force myself not to look behind me, but keep my eyes focused on my boss, who shoots glances from me to her and back. Then he starts moving again and I follow him into his office, closing the door behind me.
“It’s bleeding into the job, Barnes,” he starts before his ass is in his chair.
“It is, but it’s not me probing the wound,” I fire back immediately.
“You sure about that? The woman looks like she’s suffering.”
I’m surprised at the statement, but I also know she’s a hell of an actress.
“Wouldn’t be the first time and have it be a lie.”
Damian’s turn to look surprised. Although, whether it’s because of what I’m implying, or my unusually callous delivery, I don’t know.
“Maybe you’d like to clarify.”
“Honestly? No. She hasn’t left me another option, though, so you’re getting the whole sordid story.” I lift my ankle on my knee, mostly to stop my leg from bopping up and down as I poke around in memories I’ve tried to bury. “I met Toni early on, while I was working that assignment for Aiken in Denver a few years ago. We hooked up; it was fun. We hung out for a couple of months; both knowing it had an expiration date. Or so I thought. Took me a while to discover she was angling for more, but the moment I did, I explained things weren’t like that for me and bowed out.”
“I don’t see what—”
“That’s because I’m not done,” I interrupt Damian rudely. In my defense, this shit is costing me and I was having a pretty good fucking day before. “Three weeks later, she shows up at my apartment, telling me she’s pregnant, and the baby is mine.” I’m looking at my fingers, picking at the seam of my jeans, but I still feel the air change in the room around me.
“Go on.”
I need another deep breath in to keep my voice level as I spill the rest. “She was eight weeks pregnant. I demanded to go with her for an ultrasound. Fucking heartbeat on the screen and everything. Wasn’t planned, but from that moment it was fucking wanted. I thought about Max, and this new baby brother or sister, and I knew I was gonna give this thing a go with Toni. We started planning, even brought her home to Durango one weekend to meet Max and my folks. Two weeks after that, I’m at a coffee shop near my place, when I get a call from a friend of hers. She tells me I need to get my ass over to a clinic in Englewood.” I bark out a painful laugh. “Fucking place is called Healthy Futures, believe it or not. I’m arguing with a fucking guard to let me in, even wave my FBI badge, but it’s already too late. The friend who called me walks out, an apology on her face and an arm around Toni.”
“Jesus.”
My eyes burn with the memory of hot pain hitting my gut, realizing what she’d done, and puking right there on the sidewalk, the knowledge almost bringing me to my knees. “She never wanted a kid. She just wanted me and had since the beginning. She orchestrated the pregnancy, gauging the kind of guy I am, knowing I was gonna do the right thing. She had me hooked, got rid of the baby she never wanted, and was gonna claim a miscarriage, using that instead to keep me around.”
“That’s all kinds of fucked up.”
“Ya think?”
“What the hell is she doing here?” he wants to know.
“Fuck if I know. The fact she’s FBI now doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but it’s the fact she’s FBI, and she’s assigned to my field office. This afternoon I caught her listening in on my call with Marya, and to top it off, she had the balls to ask me about my relationship with her.” I finally look up to find Damian observing me, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “I can’t do it, man. I’m still so fucking angry, I’m afraid I’ll do something I regret. I can’t work with her.”
“Fuck!” I flinch when Damian’s hand slams down on the desk, sending papers scattering on the floor. “Shoulda told me, kid. Right away. The moment you heard her name, you shoulda laid it out. I never would’ve put you in that position had I known.”
“I’m...shit piled up quick.”
Damian shakes his head sharply. “I get it. I’m pissed at the situation. I’m fucking furious with that manipulative bitch out there, and I have to figure out a way to explain to Aiken his first candidate is already not working out, when I should be concerned with a sexual predator and child killer on the loose.”
“Tell him the truth,” I suggest. My shit is out there now. No way to put the genie back in the bottle, and whatever blows back my way I’ll deal with.
“Get out of here, Dylan. Walk out that door, go straight to your truck, and get yourself home. Regardless of how this pans out, you won’t need to deal with her. Leave it to me.”
“Thanks.”
I push out of the chair, when he suddenly gets up too and rounds the desk. He claps a hand on my shoulder and curves the other around my neck, giving it a squeeze.
&n
bsp; “So fucking sorry, kid.”
I barely manage to nod when he lets me go and I hurry out the door, not seeing anything but the exit.
My eyes are too blurry.
MARYA
I haven’t stopped smiling since I left my house this morning.
Darla was teasing me earlier before she took off to do a medical clinic on the south side, while I headed over to a spa downtown.
It’s a small, one-story building that’ll take me another ten minutes or so to finish and then I can head home to bed.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket and I fish it out.
Dylan: Where are you?
Me: Still working
Dylan: Where?
Me: The Pampered Princess on 3rd, why?
Dylan: Geezus. How long?
Me: Maybe another 10 or so, why?
I wait a few seconds, but when there’s no response I tuck the phone back in my pocket, and finish cleaning out the footbaths.
Not sure what that was all about. I don’t want to assume anything, so I tamp down the butterflies in my belly getting all excited. No need to set myself up for disappointment.
Damn, what I wouldn’t give for a pedicure every so often. It’s one of those luxuries I afford myself once a year, at the start of summer, but the rest of the year I make do. Being on my feet a ton lately, they are in a dire state. I could probably sand my kitchen cabinets with my bare heels.
Fifteen minutes later, I tuck the cleaning supplies back in the closet, turn off the lights, and let myself out, locking the door behind me.
I see him right away, leaning against my Jeep in the parking lot.
He doesn’t move as I walk up to him.
“Hey,” I barely manage to get the single word out when his arm sneaks out, hooks me around the waist, and turns me so my back is pressed up against the fender—his body plastered against my front—and his mouth showing me he’s happy to see me with a desperation that’s new to me.
It’s only when he finally lets me up for air I see the deep creases around his mouth and on his forehead. Lifting both hands to his face I pull him closer.
“You all right, honey?”
Something twists inside me when I see him grimace as if in pain, before his face evens out again. “I’m good now,” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“I’ve got a neighbor sitting with Max for a few, I should get back. I just...needed to see you.”
I pull him down as I lift my face, meeting his lips in what I hope is a soothing kiss. He seems torn up and I’m afraid something else bad happened he can’t talk to me about. “Whatever you need, honey.”
His arms wrap around and crush me to his chest, his face pressed in my hair.
Something is definitely wrong.
“This is exactly what I need,” he mumbles. “Some bad memories resurfaced today. I’ll tell you, I promise, but not tonight.”
“Whenever you’re ready, Dylan,” I whisper, my hand stroking his head.
His mouth finds mine in a hard kiss before stepping back.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.”
CHAPTER 16
Marya
“There they are,” Liam says, pointing ahead.
I recognize the team jerseys on the field farthest from the golf course.
This is the first time they’re playing at the Sports Complex in Farmington, and I had no flipping idea the place was this massive.
We missed the first turnoff, but caught the second one, parked the Jeep, and started walking. We passed a huge pond, tons of baseball fields—already busy on a Saturday morning—but didn’t see the soccer fields. We discovered those after traipsing through a golf course—to the chagrin of a foursome of late season golfers—to find there was parking right along the fields on the other side. Should’ve taken that first entrance.
I spot restrooms, and seeing as I downed my second coffee of the morning earlier, I need to make a stop.
“Boys, go ahead and follow Liam, I’ll just be a minute.”
Bathrooms at sports fields are a hit and miss I’ve discovered, but I’m pleased to find this one was recently cleaned. The pungent smell of bleach greets me when I pull open the door.
Maybe it’s a good thing I’m not that familiar around Farmington and didn’t stop for another fix of caffeine. It would’ve made us even later. The boys and I were already slow getting up, last night’s movie night had gone a little long.
It’s nippy this morning. Even with my warm hoodie and down vest I can feel the chill seeping in. I see some parents sitting on the sidelines who were smarter than me and brought blankets. I didn’t even bring a hot drink to keep me warm. Maybe next year, I’ll have this soccer mom thing down.
It’s clear Dylan has more experience, since he’s sitting with a huge thermos beside him, talking to my boys. Clint and Beth sit one higher, and clearly also came better prepared since Beth’s knees are covered with a throw.
“Morning.” Dylan grins at me, looking a whole lot better than when I saw him last night. Just a shadow of whatever was haunting him is visible in his eyes.
“Hey. Hi, guys,” I toss at Beth and Clint as I sit down beside Dylan, who uses my distraction to lean in for a surprising touch of his lips to mine.
I feel my face flush and my eyes immediately dart to my boys, sitting on the other side of him. Harry is oblivious but Theo noticed. I’m not sure what I expected, but the sardonic lift of his eyebrow and barely contained grin wasn’t it. I bulge my eyes at him and the grin breaks free. A quick peek over my shoulder gleans me a similar smirk on Beth’s face and a rumbly chuckle from Clint. Guess I’m the only one a little freaked by the public display of affection.
“Mom, can we get something to drink?” Harry pipes up; his best ‘please’ face in place.
“Boy, we just walked a half-marathon to get here and now you tell me?”
“It’s cold,” he complains, like that explains it all.
Before I have a chance to shut him down—because there’s no way I’m going to leave the warmth of Dylan’s thigh pressed against mine—Beth comes to the rescue.
“Anyone for hot chocolate? Hand me the thermos, Dylan.” The boys make it known they’d love some, and I send her a grateful smile. She pulls some foam cups from the tote between her legs. “You hold these and I’ll pour,” she instructs me. When everyone is taken care of, she dives back in the tote and pulls out a large Tupperware container, handing it to Clint. “Pass these around, would you, honey?”
“Take two,” Clint rumbles when he offers the boys what look to be giant oatmeal cookies.
“They’re practically a breakfast food,” Beth says behind me, and I throw a smile over my shoulder.
“Let me guess,” I say softly, leaning into Dylan. “You played soccer when you were a kid?”
He grins in response. “Six years. Ma never missed a game.”
“Figures,” I mumble, sipping my hot chocolate, thinking Beth knows her shit.
When the coaches call the teams to the sidelines for their final instructions before kick-off, I hear the low rumble of a motorcycle. I spot it rolling down the path on the far side of the soccer fields, carrying two people.
It’s not until the pair is walking this way I recognize Ouray, and the smaller figure is Luna.
“Morning,” she says easily as she plants her butt on my other side, her silver-fox hubby simply lifting his chin before sitting down beside her.
“What are you doing here?” my curiosity has me blurting out, instead of the friendly hey or good morning they received from everyone else.
“Just out for a Saturday morning ride before winter settles in,” Luna answers with a grin.
Ouray leans in front of her, “Got a guy keepin’ an eye out in the parking lot.”
Dylan bumps my shoulder and whispers in my ear, “Told you they’d show up.”
Now that he mentions it, I recall him saying something about that.
It had slipped my mind.
DYLAN
I listen with half an ear to Marya chatting with Ma and Luna beside me, when the halftime whistle sounds.
I’d like to hang around, but I’ve got to get to the office, so I tap Marya on the shoulder.
“I’ve gotta head out, babe. Call you this afternoon?”
Her face lifts to me and I don’t hesitate in covering the slight pout on her lips with a quick kiss. Wedged between her kids, my folks, and my partner, I can’t do much more than that, which sucks.
“Okay, honey,” she mumbles, the cute blush back on her face.
“Mom, I’ve gotta go to the bathroom.”
I look at Harry. “I’m heading out anyway, kid, I’ll take you.” I’m surprised when he easily slips his hand in mine. It’s been a few years since Max held my hand, and it occurs to me I miss it.
“I’ll come too,” Marya’s oldest boy announces, jumping up as well.
“Straight back, you guys,” she calls after us.
I drop the boys at the bathrooms on my way to the parking lot, where I spot Paco having a smoke leaning on his bike.
“This is why I ain’t never havin’ kids,” he grumbles when I walk over. “The little shits keep you up at night or get you up at the butt crack a’ dawn. Either way, they mess up your sleep. I fuckin’ need my sleep, man.”
“It’s near eleven, Paco,” I tell him, biting my lip to keep from grinning. “Hardly the butt crack of dawn.”
“Was fuckin’ nine when we rode out, smart-ass,” he retorts, and this time I don’t bother holding back on the grin.
“Sun rose a few hours before that, my friend.”
“The fact you know that just proves my point, brother.” He tosses his cigarette on the ground and crushes it under the heel of his boot. “Kids. Sheeet...”
I’m still chuckling when I drive off the parking lot.
The good mood sticks with me until I’m in Aztec, waiting to turn north on Highway 550 and my phone—tossed in the cupholder when I got behind the wheel—buzzes with a message. I glance over at the screen.
Marya: Harry still with you?
10-Code (Rock Point, #4) Page 13