“So you told them everything?”
“I didn’t really have a choice. They weren’t planning on releasing me unless I gave them something really good. It wasn’t like I could just up and escape to Mexico after giving them Wes Kraemer. Naw, they would have gotten him anyway.”
Tears sprang to my eyes as I pictured it: Colt in a white-washed police cell, fielding questions from big-bellied cops who didn’t give a shit where he’d come from, that his best friend had died, that his life had been one lonely spell after another.
“I testified about the Detroit Seven,” Colt said, his eyes flickering to mine. “I told them about Aaron’s murder, about the drugs, about everything. And because I still had the note they’d left me, the one that said ‘you’re next,’ they believed me. They turned over my testimony to the police in Detroit, who used it to finally arrest some of the top people in the gang—certainly the people who were on the hunt for me. And in return, they offered me my freedom. Freedom. Jesus, that word tastes so good in my mouth.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. After running from violence, from death, Colt had found refuge with the police force of Iowa City, of all places. Using him, they’d given peace back to a neighborhood in Detroit that had been ravaged for years by crime.
And they’d given Colt his life back.
“You’re safe?” I whispered, my voice catching in my throat. “It’s over?”
Colt lifted his hands to my cheeks and brought my face toward his, kissing me deeply, earnestly—as if he’d assumed we’d never kiss again. I’d assumed the same.
Our kiss deepened, nearly stopping time with its urgency. His tongue crept forward, parting my lips and gliding across mine, causing me to moan. I wrapped my hands around his broad shoulders. After the week he’d had, he seemed even gruffer, more masculine.
He’d seen hell, and then he’d come back. He could have kept running after being released from the police station, but he’d driven directly to the diner, searching for me.
“Why did you come back here?” I whispered, wanting to hear it directly from his lips.
Behind me, I heard Marcia leave the diner, taking the trash to the dumpster. She called out my name, causing me to lean backward and give her a wave. I felt Colt’s hesitation, his fatigue. Placing his hand on the small of my back, he gave me a somber expression.
“Can we go sleep somewhere? I just want to be close to you.”
I nodded, tipping my nose into his.
Chapter Seventeen
Luna
Grabbing the keys to the red Chevy, I slid into the driver’s seat, giving him a break from driving. After cranking the key in the ignition, I pulled from the back lot and cruised down the road, landing us in front of my apartment building.
Sliding his hand over his thick eyebrows, Colt glanced at me. “What is this place?”
“It’s, um, my apartment,” I said, shrugging.
“Just a few blocks from that motel,” Colt said. “I thought you were taking us back there.” His eyes flashed, as if he now knew I had been initially planning to abandon him at the motel a week before. Oh, how things changed.
Moving indoors, I watched Colt’s reaction to my small, intimate home: the tiny, crooked dining room table I’d picked up at a local flea market; the candlesticks stuck into the empty wine bottles in the corner; the teensy kitchen, with only space for two people scrunched close together; and then my long-forgotten textbooks for management, still open on the counter from before my last shift over a week ago, before I’d even known Colt’s name.
“Cute place,” he said, bringing his hands to his hair and rubbing his scalp, as if the tension was finally releasing. He dropped his bag on the ground and shook himself out, glancing at me with those stunning blue eyes. “I think meeting you might have saved my life, Luna.”
With that, I rushed into his arms, eliminating the distance between us. He wrapped his hands around my waist and lifted me, sitting me on the counter and kissing my lips, my neck, my ear. In a moment of passion, he bared his teeth and nipped at my neck, turning me on even more.
Gripping onto his shoulders, I yanked his shirt from his strong, muscled back, bringing it over his head. My fingers traced down his pectorals, toying with his nipples and following the outlines of his taut abs. He was the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen—yet damaged and lonely—which seemed to fit just right with me.
He removed my blue diner dress, bringing it over my head and then undoing my bra, allowing my breasts to bounce free. He kissed them, circling his tongue around the pink edges of my nipples. My head dropped back, my eyes closing as I gave myself over to him.
Stretching my legs apart, he brought my underwear down over my knees, watching as I kicked them to the floor. Giggling softly, I leaned forward and whispered into his ear.
“You’re going to fuck me in my kitchen, aren’t you?”
He gave me an intense look. “I’m going to fuck you wherever I please.”
In a split second, he tore off his jeans, revealing his rock-hard member. I emitted a gasp as he pressed my legs even farther apart, pushing the tip of his cock into me. My eyes clenched tightly; my nails drew lines down his back. He began to rail into me, filling me up, uniting us there in full view of the kitchen window with the November sun drenching our backs.
After several moments, gasping with lust, I pressed at his chest, removing him from me. Bringing my knees up, I stretched them wide, breathing hard and watching as Colt knelt down. He kissed my inner thigh, the innocent, pale skin, and then continued to kiss inward until his tongue met the wetness between my legs. He glided his tongue up and down my pink pussy lips, causing me to cry out in pleasure.
We moved to the bed after that, making slow, meaningful love into the late afternoon, until our sweat was dripping and our bodies were spent. We orgasmed in each other’s arms, our eyes linked together and our hearts beating as one.
Colt rolled to the side of the bed, gasping in pleasure. As we lay, now separate bodies, he eased his firm bicep around my head, holding onto me. Knocking his head back against the headboard, he chuckled.
“That was really something, wasn’t it?”
“Didn’t really want it to end,” I whispered.
“We have all night, don’t we?”
“You have the stamina to keep going?” I asked, looking up at him.
“You doubt it?”
“I doubt that either of us has energy today. I’m exhausted. I’ve been worried about you for days. I thought it would destroy me.” I reached out and wrapped my arm around his six-pack abdomen. A slow sigh escaped me.
“All I thought about in that prison cell was you,” Colt said. “I don’t want to be without you, Luna. I’ve never known anything as clear as that.”
Silence hung heavy around us. Colt sat up to grab his pack of cigarettes from his jeans, allowing me to gaze at his naked form. The tattoos flowing across his biceps and back made him look tough, rugged. A man who’d grown up on the streets shouldn’t have been so tender and giving in bed.
Lighting a cigarette, he peered at me as he sat on the edge of the bed. The intimacy between us was deep, as if we could communicate with only our eyes.
“You’re thinking something,” he said. “I can tell your head’s running all over the place.”
“So what if it is?” I asked.
I sat up, leaned against a pillow, and gazed back at him. I felt playful, energized. Outside, the sun had begun to set, giving us the feeling that we’d made love throughout an entire lost day. It was a gorgeous feeling.
“I’ve told you everything,” Colt said, reaching over and touching my foot in a tender motion. He held onto it tightly, still looking up at me with emotion. “You promise you’ve told me everything as well?”
I laughed slightly. “If you really want to know, Colt, I wasn’t sure if I could trust you when I first met you.” I scooted closer to him, placing my hand against the rough hairs on his face. “And my original plan, if y
ou must know, was to deceive you. Take your money and run, as they say. I had no intention of going to Mexico. I just wanted to get my father out of a jam. That’s all.”
Colt laughed, bringing his hands around my slender shoulders and rubbing at my glowing skin. “And how did that turn out for you?”
A smile stretched across my face. “After we had sex the second time, at the motel, I knew I was in over my head. Everything had changed. All I could do was daydream about running out of town with you, of building a better life someplace else. I was addicted to you, Colt. If you’d asked me to move to the moon with you, I would have done it.”
“And now?” Colt asked.
“Still just as addicted,” I said. “I was brokenhearted when I thought you’d left town. Don’t ever do that to me again, you understand? I need you by my side, otherwise I go nutty—crying all night, staring longingly out the window.”
I snickered, laughing at myself now that the nightmare had passed. “Seems I needed you even more than I could understand, almost like I’d been waiting in that sad little diner for you to come into my life and change it.”
Colt put his cigarette out, then leaned forward and kissed me. I wrapped myself tightly in his arms, sealing the space between us.
“I’ve made so many mistakes in my life,” Colt whispered. “But going to that diner that night, with twenty thousand dollars in cash on hand, must be my biggest one.”
I smacked him playfully before falling back onto the comforter, bouncing slightly when I landed, my naked skin illuminated by the orange and pink sunset. Colt lay beside me, gazing into my eyes, clearly touched by my words. We were completely enamored with each other.
“I’ve been thinking,” Colt said, sliding his finger down my chest and toward my belly button.
“That’s dangerous,” I joked.
“I’d agree with that, sure,” he said, flashing a smile. “But, baby, you know my past. You know I didn’t have much of a home after my grandmother died when I was 12. I’ve been on the run, bouncing from place to place. I’m not even sure what I’d be like if I had a proper place to live. To stay in and grow, you know?”
I propped my head up on my hand, gazing into his eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to keep running. I want to stay and build something with you, a life even.”
“In Iowa?” I asked, laughing slightly. “But why here?”
“Because we both know, deep down, that you’ll never leave your father,” Colt said. “This is your community, baby. You’re as much a part of it as anybody else. If you left, it would have a great, big, unfillable void. Who would serve the country’s best burgers at a 24-hour diner if not you? Marcia can’t do it alone.”
I laughed, shaking my head and bouncing my nose against his. “Anybody can serve a shitty burger, Colt.”
“But you’re the best that they have,” he said. His voice grew firmer, more insistent. “And besides, I feel safe here. This is a place where you can raise children without thinking they’ll get shot, you know? Without thinking they’ll get into drugs or fall into a gang. Across the street from the police station, I saw a library and a park. And there are about a million other little nice nooks and crannies that seem so homey to me. I don’t want to leave Iowa City, and those are words that I never thought I’d say. Not in a million years.”
“So what are you saying?” I asked him, unable to comprehend this. “Are you saying you don’t want to continue on the road? My cowboy is no longer turning his eyes toward the West, Mexico, or wherever the winds may take him?”
“I’m saying I want to stay with you,” he said, kissing me softly. “I want to build that normal, stable existence I’ve always craved. And I want to do it with you, if you’ll have me.”
I thought back to my desire to run away with him. I had thought that running from my problems and home would solve everything in my life, that I could shrug off the issues of my father’s addiction and his health and renew myself once I left Iowa. But now, I recognized that that had only been a passing fancy. The only reason I’d wanted to run, to flee, was to be with Colt.
“Stay, please. Stay with me,” I whispered, leaning toward him and wrapping my lips around his. We kissed languidly, with incredible emotion, our tongues sliding along one another’s.
Our passion ignited, forcing our bodies together with an earnest drive. Soon, we were making love again, even more passionately than before, growing more accustomed to one another and learning the gorgeous ways we could give and receive pleasure.
When I collapsed in his arms that night, I felt absolutely at peace—no fear, no resentment, no desire to run. We would build our world together as a united force, knowing that nothing could defeat us. An overly dramatic and violent loan shark hadn’t done it, nor even a Detroit gang. We were stronger than all of that. We would allow our love to flourish, to bloom.
The next morning, I awoke early, feeling the sun across my face. A bit chilled, I reached toward the dresser drawer and grabbed a sweatshirt. I gazed back at the still-sleeping form of Colt beside me. I wanted to allow him the entire morning to sleep, if he could manage it.
Exhaustion seemed to bleed through his every pore. I wondered what it had been like back at the police station with the constant interrogation, having to tell the intimate details of his best friend’s murder. I shivered, wanting to make it right.
After rising, I walked into the next room and dialed the police station.
“Iowa City Police,” the woman said, her voice brittle and unfriendly.
“Hi there. I was wondering if you had any information regarding an impounded vehicle? It would have been parked at the motel south of town. A blue Mustang.”
“Let me check on that for you,” the woman said.
Shifting my weight from foot to foot, I scanned the road outside the window. A few autumn leaves sprinkled past, a reminder that winter would soon come—that the world had and would continue turning.
“Looks like it’s at our storage facility. The owner of the motel had it towed,” the woman said. “You’re going to need to pay quite a bit to take it away, around three hundred dollars. It’s been there, what, like a week?”
“That’s fine,” I said.
“You didn’t know your car was missing for an entire week?” the woman asked, incredulous.
“Thanks so much for your help.”
I hung up the phone and then called my friend Donna, who swung by and rode with me to the storage facility so I wouldn’t have to leave my car there. I paid the man about half of what was in my account—a steep amount, which felt like a physical stabbing—and then drove the Mustang back to my apartment, Donna taking my red Chevy.
She clucked her tongue when we arrived back, her eyes dancing up toward my apartment. “I can’t believe you just paid that guy three-hundred bucks,” she said, shrugging. “You must really love this guy.”
“I don’t think I’ve seen anyone look better in a Mustang, Donna,” I replied, crossing my arms over my chest and following her gaze. “I’m going to marry him, and he deserves to have the things in his life that make him feel whole. I think this car does the trick.”
“You’ve been seeing him for what, a week? He’s gotten you into more trouble than you’ve ever been in in your life, and you’re already saying you’re going to marry him,” Donna said, rolling her eyes. “When you get in over your head, call me. I’ll help you out.”
“Trust me,” I whispered. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve never been so sure.”
My apartment door creaked open, revealing Colt. He wore only a pair of boxers. His muscles gleamed in the autumn light. Pressing his arms against the railing, he leaned over and stared at me. A smile crept across his face when he saw what I stood beside: his Mustang, the last reminder of his time in Detroit.
“What on earth did you do?” he called down to me.
“What do you think?”
He ran down the steps, rushing toward me, still in only his boxers
. In the light of the morning, it seemed that our troubles were truly over. As Donna stood off to the side slightly awkwardly, Colt pulled me into the air and spun me, allowing my legs to fling outward. I giggled madly, feeling his heart beat against my stomach as I arched my back.
When I was back on the ground, Colt turned to his Mustang, drawing a line with his finger down the side, toward the backend. Clucking his tongue, he gave me a look. “I bet you paid a fortune to get this out.”
I shrugged, not wanting to ruin the gift by making him feel bad. “The car’s ours, baby,” I said. “I fell in love with you when you drove this thing into the parking lot at the diner, and I want to see you driving it every day of our lives.”
He knocked on the top of the vehicle with his knuckles, shaking his head, incredulous. “Hop in,” he said, his voice booming.
Donna had darted away, giving me a firm wave before driving her car back to her place. With a flourish, I leaped into the passenger seat, buckled myself in, and watched as Colt revved the engine, toying with the radio and shoving a pair of sunglasses up his nose.
His exposed biceps pulsed as he turned the steering wheel and cranked us out toward the highway. Rolling down the windows, he yelled out, allowing his dark blond curls to whip behind his head.
As Iowa City flew past us, so did the solitude of our lives before we met one another. I clung to his right hand as he drove far too fast with the left. We wouldn’t slow down, not for anyone. The exhilaration of being in love was too immense. The exhilaration of knowing we would spend the rest of our lives together was everything.
I whipped my hand out the window, feeling the air race through my fingers, reminding myself that freedom was always a mental state. We didn’t have to leave to feel freedom and peace. We could find those things in each other.
Epilogue
Luna
A few weeks after Colt moved in with me, we got a call from my dad, letting us know he had been cleared to come home. His voice sounded more robust than it had before his stint in rehab, giving me cause for celebration.
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