by Joyce Wright
“Unh unh. The deal was you stop at the house first.” He pointed his thumb toward the door. “Go.”
“What the heck, Damien? Quit bossing me around. You have no right.”
He walked right up to her. His chest touched hers. His scent assaulted all the right places in her nose. She couldn’t breathe normally, and it took every bit of strength not to push back and kiss him. Why did he have to be just as hot as he’d always been? He made her think of darkened dance floors and sweaty slow dances.
She shoved him hard. He stumbled back which surprised her. Had she caught him off guard?
“Get out of my space, Damien. I am not some little trophy girl, a notch in your bedpost.”
His face which had been open in surprise, hardened. He reached out and stroked her bottom lip with his thumb. She shivered. “You forget, princess, you were the first girl I ever loved. I don’t need to prove anything to anyone.” He smiled when she balled her fists. “Easy, Asia.” He put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her toward the door.
“Go on. Ma won’t bite you. It’s time you saw her. Now Abby on the other hand. She might not be so nice.”
Abby. She’d dumped her best friend when she’d dumped the rest of Damien’s family, right after life as she’d known it came to a grinding halt and her aunts had taken over. End of story. She’d been a teenager. What else could she have done?
She turned the doorknob, opened the door. Damien put his hand on her hip. “Hold up. I’m coming with you.”
“Like I care,” she muttered. But she did. She relaxed against the doorjamb and waited while he pulled on a pair of shoes.
“I can’t believe I have to do this. It’s going to be hard.”
“That’s right. It should be. Nothing worth having is easy.”
She rolled her eyes. “Thanks, grandpa.”
He shrugged. “Don’t mention it.”
Chapter 5
Asia flopped down on Damien’s sofa. He kicked off his shoes, then folded his arms across his chest. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Asia looked up. Her eyes still glistened from the tears she and his mom had shed during their visit. She shrugged and wiped her face again. “It wasn’t easy.”
He tried to feel some sympathy for her, but couldn’t manage it. No one had made her abandon his family. No one had made her break his mom’s heart. He was sorry her mom had died—she’d been a nice lady and a great mother-- but what did that have to do with him or the rest of the Grimaldi family? “Your choice,“ he said. “At least Abby wasn’t home.” Abby was going to rip a Asia a new one once they met up.
Asia’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe she has twins. Oh my God, they’re so cute. They look a lot like the two of you did when we were little.”
He smiled, picturing his niece and nephew. “They’re pretty awesome. Cooler than Abby and I were, definitely cooler than Abby was.” He winked, then flopped down in the recliner across from the sofa. “Okay, girl. What do you want?”
Abby opened the folder and handed him two pieces of paper. He glanced down the rows of numbers. “What?”
“Before Dad left for his honeymoon, he asked me to look over the books. He said there were some discrepancies—“
“And you found some?” He frowned as he studied the numbers. He didn’t see anything wrong. “They look fine.”
She leaned forward. “That’s the thing, too fine. Too perfect.”
As Asia explained what she had found, he dropped the pages into his lap and leaned back. He’d been searching for nearly two months for some kind of proof that something was wrong at the warehouse, but had come up with nothing. Now, it looked like Asia had some.
“Earth to Damien. What’s going on?”
Truth or Dare? Time for truth. He sat up, reaching in his back pocket for his phone. He scrolled through his messages until he found the picture. He turned it over and handed it to Asia.
Her mouth fell open and she looked up at him, her eyes wide. “Are you kidding me? Weapons at GSW? No, I don’t believe it.” She handed the phone back. “Where did you get that?” The picture showed an open GSW box with weapon parts nestled inside, surrounded by shredded paper.
He shrugged. “I didn’t believe it either.” Time to come clean. “I’m part of Adrian’s Riders.” He said it firmly, unapologetically. “We hear things.”
“Adrian’s Riders.” He knew she would have heard of them. “The bike club? But they’re a terrorist group.” Her voice dropped at the last as though it was a secret. His lips twitched.
Then her shock eased and her shoulders went back. Lecture time.
“Damien, we’re not kids anymore. We’re nearly thirty freakin’ years old. It’s not okay to play around, be a part of a nasty group like that. God, look at us, we grew up together, had secret make out sessions. Adrian’s Riders kills chicks like me.”
He laughed then.
She stood up and kicked his foot. Hard. “Stop it. This is serious to me. My sisters and brothers are serious to me.”
“Oh shut up, Asia. For once, just let me talk. Sit down.” He got up and pushed her back on the sofa, then squatted in front of her. “We’re not a terrorist organization and we don’t kill black people. Hell, we try not to kill anyone.”
“Try?” Her voice squeaked.
“Yes, “he said patiently. “Try. We’re trained to kill if we have to. That story that came out of Baltimore last month? Our boy only shot that black dude because he was armed and dangerous and had just raped two women. Sisters, “He mocked gently. “It was the only way to keep everyone else safe. A rapist didn’t deserve a gentler method.”
“We work for the government. “ He put his hands out.”The CIA recruited the club back in the 80s. Hell, my father was one of the earliest members in our area. “He gestured around him. “That’s how he could afford this house. And the original Adrian? He was CIA. My dad would still be out there if he could. There are bad people on the streets, and we help put a stop to some of the violence.” He lowered his chin. “I wish I could tell you more, but we have to keep things secret to keep our men and women safe.”
Her head jerked up. “There are women, too?”
He smiled. “Yes. Tough, beautiful, strong women. “He put his hands down and grasped hers, pulling her to her feet. “Like you. Very much like you.”
She pushed against his chest. “Shut up. You don’t believe that. You’ve always thought I was weak, that I needed to be protected.”
He lifted his eyebrows. “Are you crazy? Next to Ma and Abby, you’re the least weak female I’ve ever known.”
“Then why have I been tripping over you my entire life while you try to save me?”
Truth or dare? He looked into her angry beautiful face and knew she wasn’t ready for the truth. Dare. Did he dare kiss her? Yes.
“Because of this,” He muttered right before he grasped her face in his hands and brought his lips down to hers. “It’s been too long.”
She pushed him away. “Get off me. How dare you do that?” Her fingers touched her mouth, the anger in her words not matching the passion in her eyes.
“Sorry.” He said and shrugged. “You always do that to me.”
“What? Turn you into a jerk?”
He laughed. “Princess, I’ve always been a jerk. For a long time, you didn’t mind. No, you turn me into one big out of control bumbling fool.”
Asia cleared her throat. “So what’s this all about? How are weapons getting into GSW?”
He scrubbed his hand over his hair. “I don’t know.”
“How can you not know? You manage that entire warehouse. You have it in your power to open every box as it gets delivered.”
He threw up his hands. “You think I don’t? Ever since I saw that damn photograph, I have busted my ass opening boxes, looking like a freakin’ Nazi to my team.”
“And?”
“Nothing! Not one thing in those boxes besides what’s on the orders.”
“Maybe so
meone is just reusing the GSW boxes?”
“I’ve thought of that, and I was actually leaning toward that theory, until...” He looked at her and raised his eyebrows.
“Until I showed up here tonight looking for something that doesn’t seem to exist. Yet somehow it does. Numbers that perfect are usually dirty.” She thought for a minute. “Are you checking the boxes leaving the warehouse?”
“Can’t. Would be impossible to check them all. It would slow us down to the point where all attention would fall on us in the warehouse. Not exactly what I’m looking for, princess.”
“No, I guess not. If the guns aren’t coming in with the shipments, how are they getting in?”
“That’s what you and I have to figure out.”
Chapter 6
For the rest of the week, Asia studied ten years worth of figures. She took Karen, the receptionist, out to lunch and casually asked her questions about shipments, supplies, and any changes over the past decade. Karen knew nothing.
At closing time on Friday, she packed her briefcase and logged off the computer. As she walked past Peter’s office, he called her name. Ugh!
“What is it, Peter?”
He rose from his desk, gathered his briefcase and jacket. “What’s going on? Why are you pulling up old spreadsheets?”
“What? How do you know about that?”
He folded his arms across his chest. “I know everything, Asia. Don’t forget it. Whatever you’re looking for, stop it now. I won’t tell you again.”
“Is that a threat, Peter?”
He walked up to her until only a few inches separated them. When Damien had done the same thing Monday night, she could hardly keep her hands off him. With Peter, every cell in her body was screaming to run. She began to tremble
He grabbed her chin roughly in his hand. “Yes, it’s a threat. To you, to your dad, and to your precious Damien.” Then he shoved her hard, until she stumbled out of his office. He tossed his jacket over his shoulder and locked his office door. “I mean it, Asia. Don’t mess with me. Or I might just take you AND your family down.”
Chapter 7
An hour later, Asia was tucked into her apartment wearing her favorite comfort sweats, a freshly delivered pizza in front of her. She was just pouring herself some wine, when her cell phone rang.
“Hey, this is John. I just delivered your pizza. Buzz me up. I forgot to drop off your soda.”
“Oh no, that’s a mistake. I didn’t order a soda.” She hung up and picked up a pizza slice and took a bite. That phone called bothered her. Something had been odd about it. She was almost finished her second slice when she remembered: her pizza account was only on her landline. She dropped the piece of crust in her hand. What the...? Then the buzzer for downstairs sounded next to the door. The trembling started again.
Quickly, she ran into her bedroom, shutting and locking the door. She dialed her cell quickly.
Damien answered on the first ring. “What’s up, Asia?”
“I’m not sure, but could you come over? Something’s not right with the pizza guy and—“Someone started banging on her door. “And someone’s at my door.”
“I’m on my way. Lock yourself in your room. Don’t let anyone in.”
The banging on her door lasted for over ten minutes. Ten minutes after it stopped, Damien called her cell to let her know he was downstairs. She hurried out of her room to buzz him in. When she opened the door to his knock, he looked like a fine white boy in his leather jacket and jeans.
“You okay?” He asked softly.
She nodded. A sob caught in her throat, but she refused to release it.
“Come on back to the house with me. You’ll be safe there.”
“You believe me? That it wasn’t my imagination?”
He leaned against the door frame and nodded. “A car shot out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell when I pulled up.” He shook his head. “No coincidence I think.
“Did you recognize it?”
“No.”
When they got outside, he gestured toward his Harley. “Can you still handle yourself?” He challenged.
Could she? Biting her lip, she nodded. He tossed her a helmet and she caught it easily. He climbed on and cocked his head. She straddled the seat behind him.
“Put your arms around me,“ He commanded.
She did, placing her hands lightly on his hips.
“Asia,” he warned. “We’re too old to play these games. You want to get someplace safe, put your arms around me!”
With a huff, she locked her arms around his waist, her chest resting against his back. Like coming home. She took a deep breath.
“Ready?” His voice was rough.
She nodded into his jacket.
And they were off. The wind hit her arms and her legs, but his broad back protected her from the worst of it. The exhilaration was everything she remembered. So was his heat and his smell. She clung to him, breathing it all in.
“Upstairs or down?”” He asked once they were parked in the driveway. He was asking if she wanted to stay at his parents’ house or his.
She hesitated too long, and he headed toward the front porch, but she didn’t move.
“Upstairs,” She whispered, rubbing her hands lightly over the goosebumps on her arms.
He stopped, seemed to take a deep breath, then returned to her. He gently took her hand in his. “Upstairs it is.”
Chapter 8
He had left a lamp burning in the living room. She hesitated at the door. She wished she didn’t feel it, the heat that had rushed from the palm of his hand into hers. Her hair was a mess, pulled back in a messy bandana. An old T-shirt covered an old bra that revealed her shoulder and part of her bra strap.
He stood three feet from her, his eyes never leaving her face. “Make me stop, Asia.” He pulled his shirt over his head. Tanned muscles rippled across his chest and in his arms. There was a tattoo on his shoulder, another down his side, but she couldn’t make them out. She swallowed thickly as she noted how perfect his body was.
“Asia, you’re killing me. Say something.” His voice was husky. His eyes were dark, like the pupils had consumed the rest.
“Please, Damien.”
“Please, what?” He pulled away, looking down at her.
She opened her eyes. “Please kiss me.”
His warm mouth covered hers and they shared a kiss like when they would sneak away as teenagers. Their lips melted against each other, fitting together perfectly.
They lay in the bed talking into the night.
Her eyelids grew heavy and she confessed. “I don’t do this.”
He looked at her blankly. “Do what?”
“This chatty, get to know you again thing. I don’t do this.”
He smiled and pulled her closer. “You don’t let people in anymore. Isn’t that what you mean? You don’t let people see that you have a soft side?”
“What do you know about it?”
“I know that I can see how you hold yourself apart, refuse to let your guard down.”
“Keeping my guard up is good. It keeps me safe, so I won’t get hurt again.”
“You’re going to have let someone in eventually. Your mom wouldn’t want you to be alone.”
She didn’t answer, just rolled on her side and closed her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her, kissed her hair, and she let him.
“Good night, Asia.”
“Good night, Damien.” She wanted to tell him she had let him in, but the words caught in her throat.
Chapter 9
The next day, Asia walked cautiously among the rows of plants. Damien had sent her downstairs to pick peppers to go with their lunch. He’d said they were the only vegetables that were ripe enough to pick.
“What are you doing here, Asia?”
She whirled around and clutched her chest. “Jesus, Abby, you scared me to death.”
“Are you with my brother again? If you break his heart again, I swear I’m coming a
fter you.” Abby’s hair had been colored a dark shade of blond and it stuck out all over her head like she’d just woken up. The nose ring was new, and so were the tattoos climbing up her arms.
“Whoa, wait. I never broke your brother’s heart. And if we are together, it’s nothing to you.”
“What the heck? How could it be nothing to me? He’s my brother! I thought you were the one who’s all about family. Isn’t that why turned your backs on us, to appease your precious aunties?”
Asia planted her hands on her hips. “We’re not going there, girl. You have no right.”
“I have every right. “Abby eyes glistened with tears. “You never thought about me and what I was going through. God, I adored your mother. I adored you. My mom fell completely apart after Isabella died. She became so protective over me and Damien, we could hardly breathe. And me? I just wanted my bestie back.”
“Oh, Abby.” Put up or shut up. She walked slowly toward her old friend, watching her like she would a stray dog, uncertain if it would bite. But she didn’t. When Asia wrapped her arms around Abby, she collapsed into them and sobbed.
After a while, they wandered around Damien’s garden, talking. Abby told her things she didn’t know, like about Damien’s father’s kidney disease and how Damien had moved home to help the family while he went through dialysis. And other things, too, that made Asia feel awful, but also made her look at Damien with new eyes. Or very old ones.
Chapter 10
“What’s with all these returns from Quantico, Virginia?” Asia asked Damien over the phone on Sunday.
“What are you talking about? Where are you?”
“I had an idea about where the weapons are coming from, so I came into the office.” She tapped the screen in front of her. “There are dozens upon dozens of returns from Quantico. The same amount nearly every week.” She read off the box dimensions and the cost.