She drank bad coffee and called Derrick, saying she had an emergency and would be out for the next couple days. She drank more coffee and called the girls. She drank more coffee, and held Val’s hand, and drank more coffee, until finally a lawyer in a navy pinstriped suit showed up.
Before Val gave her statement, Mike spoke to the prosecutor about a deal for Val. She stood behind him when he said they would lose her testimony unless they could guarantee her safety in writing.
The prosecutor asked if Mike was her lawyer, and Mike said no. But he’d sounded like one, and Amy puffed up with pride on his behalf.
Pinstripes left, and Amy paced some more.
He returned two hours later with a fancy document signed by the district attorney, and another man in a button-down plaid shirt with an FBI badge around his neck. They spoke to Mike, who never wavered, never looked even the slightest bit intimidated.
She was in awe of him.
When Val signed the form, she was taken into a room to give her statement. Marcos took Amy into another room, where she told him every detail of what had happened the night at the club. He was very professional, and apart from squeezing her shoulder on the way out, didn’t let on that they were friends.
By the time they were done, it was after ten PM. They shared vending machine chips and candy bars, and were finally released with a police escort, who followed them to a nearby hotel for the night. There, they waited for word that The Fox, and Aiden Farrell, had been arrested.
It had been two full days since Amy had seen the girls, the longest she had ever been apart from Paisley. Being without them, under these circumstances, felt like her heart was beating out of her chest. She texted Anna constantly for updates, but her friend’s reassurances only lasted a few minutes at a time.
Mike didn’t talk much, though Amy couldn’t tell if that was because of fatigue, or the stress of the day, or something else. She couldn’t help but wonder if his kindness had reached its limits, or if last night’s I love you confession had been too much. It felt stupid, and vain, to think that she—that their relationship—would weigh heavier on him than the present situation, but either way she was worried.
He ordered room service, and made her eat a piece of pizza, and when they went to bed they stared at the ceiling.
He reached for her hand, knuckles skimming the back of her fingertips. Only then did she fall asleep.
***
The call came the next day at eleven in the morning.
It was Marcos, and he said they must have been tipped, because both Aiden, and the Fox, were gone.
“Well, where are they?” asked Amy.
Marcos sighed into the phone. “Not where I’m looking.”
She chewed her thumbnail while Mike watched her carefully from his seat on the foot of the bed.
“Did you check that bar next to Rave? O’Malley’s?”
Another sigh. “And a dozen other hangouts, including Connolly’s mini marts, lawyer’s office, and home.” This brought to mind the flush house in the suburbs where she’d tracked the red-haired man.
“What about Aiden’s mother’s house?”
Mike’s gaze narrowed. He may not have said it, but he wasn’t pleased she’d gone there alone.
“Believe it or not, I actually do know how to do my job,” said Marcos. “They’re in the wind, at least for now. Half the clothes in the closets are missing, the safes at the mini marts have all been cleaned out. My guess is they fled the country.”
“Dammit,” she said. She wasn’t sure she could feel safe unless they were behind bars.
“It’s not what we wanted,” said Marcos, “but I think you’re in the clear. The FBI’s after them. Half a dozen of Connolly’s enforcers have already been picked up. They’d have to be stupid to come back now.”
Amy let this sink in. Marcos was right, it wasn’t ideal, but Aiden and the Fox were out of the picture, which was what she’d wanted. And Danny hadn’t made contact in weeks; whether or not he knew of their charges, she didn’t know, but she doubted he’d come back to find out. She wondered if the clean-cut jerk who’d jumped her at the club had been one of those picked up.
“What happened to Val?” she asked. The FBI had whisked her away pretty quickly after her interview.
“Taken into WITSEC,” he said. “I don’t expect we’ll hear from her or her daughter again unless there’s a trial.”
Which there wouldn’t be, unless Aiden and Connolly were caught. She took solace in the fact that her friend was now in witness protection, thanks largely to Mike.
“Now what?” she asked.
“Go back to your life,” Marcos suggested. “Plan a wedding.”
Amy couldn’t help but smirk. Despite the fact that she’d taken a swim in loan shark infested waters, life went on. Anna was getting married in less than a week, and there were still things to do.
“Back to life,” she said. “That, I can do.”
She hung up the phone, and looked at Mike.
“I want to see the girls,” she said.
Chapter Thirty-One
They stopped at home just for a quick change of clothes, and were off again, driving on the bridge over the dark blue water of the Bay. Amy stared out the window, tracking the pelicans that swooped from the sky and dove into the waves, rising with silver fish hanging out of their swollen beaks. She couldn’t help but wonder if those fish had any idea of the terrors that lurked above them, or if they knew, every moment that passed, that they were just biding their time until the next attack.
She reminded herself that Aiden Farrell and Corbett Connolly were the fish, not her. And they were gone.
As Mike pulled into the gravel drive that led around the restaurant to the apartment, she felt an overwhelming need to close the distance between them, and placed a hand on his forearm. The muscles were taut beneath.
“You’ve been incredible,” she said as he parked the truck. “Thank you.”
He reached for her hand, and when she laced her fingers between his, he kissed her knuckles. It was the most intimate move he’d made in some time, and made her chest grow tight.
That same struggle she’d sensed before became apparent again. It warred inside of him, locking his jaw, hunching his shoulders. She wished she could help him carry the load, whatever it was.
“I was in college when I got Denise pregnant,” he said. Her brows drew up in surprise. He mentioned her so rarely.
“We weren’t seeing each other. Not seriously, anyway. She thought I was going pro in football.” He looked out the side window, scowling. “I thought I was too. She liked that. The idea of me.”
Amy squeezed his hand, drawn nearer by the unlocking of this story. She wasn’t sure how anyone could like the idea of Mike more than Mike himself. He was, to her, perfect, even in his imperfections.
“Marrying her was the right thing to do. Alec told me it was crazy, but I did it anyway. I wanted Chloe to have a shot with both of us. Scouts had been watching me during practice, and when draft season came around it was either agent up or stay another year on the team.” He exhaled, nostrils flaring. “I lost my college eligibility when I signed with an agent. I was thinking about the money. If I could make enough, I could take care of them. A degree wouldn’t matter.”
Amy watched him carefully, picturing a younger version of him forced to make such big decisions.
“Denise had some problems. I couldn’t leave her alone when she was pregnant.”
“What kinds of problems?” Amy asked.
“The kind that involved a good time,” he said flatly. Amy thought back to what he’d told her that night at the restaurant. A drunk driving accident. Their daughter had been sixteen months old.
“Things got worse after Chloe was born,” said Mike. “Denise never wanted to be a mother. She was gone, more and more. Sometimes she’d leave Chloe alone.” He hesitated. “I withdrew from contention before the draft, but I’d already signed with an agent so I couldn’t go back to play co
llege ball. I tried to take care of them, but Denise hated me for letting it go. She left nine months after we got married.”
“Oh, Mike,” said Amy. “I’m so sorry.” She could feel it: crushed dreams, regrets, all that wasted potential.
He was a good man who couldn’t win for losing.
“There’s more,” he said, rubbing one hand over his forehead. “She had Chloe for a few days. I called, but couldn’t get her. It gave me a bad feeling, you know? I went to our old place, but neither of them were there. I looked for hours, every place I knew she liked to go. I ran into some of her friends at a bar, and they said they’d seen her a little while before. They didn’t know where Chloe was.”
Amy thought of the night she’d been gone—at Hope House—when Mike had gone out looking for him. She remembered the fear on her face when he’d come home, how tightly he’d held her.
“I saw the wreck before the cops got there. The car was flipped on its side between two lanes. The engine was on fire. I could hear her—I could hear Chloe crying. I know it’s crazy, she was probably a mile away, but I knew it was them.”
Amy was afraid to move. Afraid to speak. Afraid to let go of his hand.
“When I got there, my little girl was trapped in her car seat, hanging sideways, screaming at the top of her lungs. I got her out, and went back for Denise, but it was too late. I tried, but the fire was too much.”
His tattoos appeared clearly in her mind.
“Your back,” Amy realized.
He nodded. “They said later Denise died on impact. Drunk. She probably didn’t even feel it.” He cleared his throat. “I haven’t talked about that since it happened.”
She thought about how nervous he’d been about letting her drive the girls, about how hard it must have been to bring her into his home. How none of the other women he’d seen had ever met his daughter.
“Thank you for trusting me,” she said softly.
He turned to face her, shadows hiding his expression.
“If something happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do,” he said.
She made a silent promise never to leave him again. When she’d walked away, she’d thought he would understand that the girls were their priority, but now it was clear she’d scared the hell out of him.
She crawled across the console into his lap, and held him, his head on her breast, his arms tight around her back.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She could tell he didn’t believe her, and squeezed him even tighter.
***
Somehow, life did go back to normal. Their friends fell back into their lives, Mike and Amy went back to work, and the girls returned to school. Amy continued to walk them in, and Mike changed his schedule to pick them up. They were not allowed to wait outside.
Amy’s bank account remained untouched, but though the bank apologized, they had still not received the necessary approval to release the video footage from the ATM machine. She suspected that it had been Danny’s doing, but without proof it was impossible to charge him. If she was honest with herself, she didn’t want to hunt him down anyway. Good riddance.
Her days were busy, and when nighttime came, and the girls were fast asleep, she and Mike were together.
Sometimes they just kissed. Sometimes he kissed her all over. At times, the need was so urgent it became uncontrollable. She stroked him to climax in the kitchen. He spread her legs on the island, and licked her until she could no longer tell where the last orgasm ended and the new one began. He did bend her over the bathroom counter, unable even to get her shirt off before he was inside her. He watched her face in the mirror and told her she was so beautiful it made his heart hurt.
Every time they touched felt like the last time. They gave everything to each other, as if tomorrow might not come.
She didn’t tell him she loved him again, though it had to be obvious, and whenever she could see hints of in in his eyes, whenever things got too heavy, she helped him change the subject. He would tell her what he needed to say when he was ready.
When she woke up in the mornings, she was always alone.
***
Saturday, Amy and Mike took Iris and the girls to the beach where Anna and Alec were getting married later that afternoon. While the girls played, Amy checked in with the hotel staff and tied bushels of jasmine to the chairs in the gazebo where the ceremony would take place. They hadn’t had a rehearsal—Anna insisted they keep things casual—but despite that, Amy still wanted things to be perfect for her best friend.
Her yellow dress was in the car beside Mike’s suit and the girls’ outfits. The back was crammed with flowers, ribbon, tape, and Amy’s sewing kit in case of emergencies. They had a block of rooms in the hotel next door, with a honeymoon suite on the top floor already fixed up with rose petals and champagne. Mac was bringing the food and the cake, and Alec was bringing the bride. Everything was going just as planned.
“Sparkling cider?” asked Amy, going down her two-page checklist. On account of Alec’s father being an alcoholic, they weren’t serving booze at the reception.
“Chilling in the cooler in the back of the truck,” said Mike.
She stuck a pen over her ear, scowling when she felt that one was already there. “I need to charge my phone for pictures. I can’t believe Anna didn’t want a photographer. She’s going to want to remember this forever.”
“She’ll remember it forever,” said Mike.
Amy swallowed, careful not to meet his gaze. All morning she’d been thinking about weddings, and imagining what it might be like if she was the one walking down the aisle, or through the sand, as the case may be. What it would be like to introduce herself as Mrs. Stroud. To go home to him every night, and wake up curled around his body.
It seemed too good to wish for.
“Can I ask you something?” she said.
“Of course.” He sat on one of the chairs, pulling her between his knees. His fingers found the hem of her skirt, and rose over her hamstrings, making her skin warm and tingly.
He looked up at her, patient as always, and the questions floating around her head suddenly seemed too serious.
“Did you know tonight we’ll have our own hotel room? No kids? No cop parked outside just in case the Irish mob wants to cut our heads off?”
He winced.
“Too soon?” she asked.
“Maybe a little,” he said. “Want to go break it in?”
He flashed her a dangerous grin, one that made her knees a little trembly. She thought of the overnight bag in the trunk of her car. She had something special in there for tonight. She hoped it was enough to help them forget all the drama of the past couple weeks.
“Can’t,” she said. “Iris took the girls up to shower and change.”
“Too bad.” He pulled her even closer, his fingertips slipping beneath the seams of her hip-hugging boy shorts. She gave a small, involuntary gasp as heat punched through her core.
“There’s always the honeymoon suite,” said Mike. “I’ve got the key.”
“Alec would kill you.”
“It’d be worth it.”
She gave a short laugh, which stopped in her throat as his fingers dipped lower, following her pantyline between her thighs.
“Mike,” she hissed. Her gaze darted around. No one was close that she could see, but that didn’t mean someone wasn’t watching. The hotel was a hundred yards away, and even though Aiden and his boss were gone, Amy couldn’t help but feel like there were eyes on her.
She had to move on, stop being so paranoid.
Winding the back of her panties around his finger, Mike gave them a gentle tug. The fabric tightened over her sex, and rubbed against her skin. She bit off the groan, feeling the blush warm her cheeks. His bright eyes simmered. In the background, waves crashed softly against the shore.
“You’re all wet, Hummingbird. What were you thinking about?”
She should have been embarrassed but she found she wasn’t. Not
even a tiny bit. She gave a flirty shrug.
“Something naughty.”
“Ooh,” he said. “Something that rhymes with snow mob?”
Now she was embarrassed. A vague memory from the night she’d gone to the club with Anna and Marcos came to mind.
“Shit,” she muttered.
He laughed, and to stop him, she pressed her knee against his crotch. He was already erect, and she reveled in the thought that she had done that to him.
“Maybe I was,” she said. “Maybe I’ve been wondering what it’s like to have you in my mouth.”
He stopped laughing.
She leaned closer. His grip on her panties tightened.
“I’ve been wondering about other things, too,” she said. “What it would feel like to be on top. We’ve never done that before. There are a lot of things I’m...curious about.”
Somehow, in the last minute she’d transformed into a seductress. She held a power over him she’d never held with another man. It was intoxicating.
His eyes narrowed. She ran her fingertips over the rigid muscles in his neck.
“What else are you curious about?” he asked.
“If all this will be for us one day.”
The words slipped out before she’d thought them through, and their impact only reached her a moment later, when he released his hold, and slid his hand down her hips to a very appropriate place behind her knees.
“I did all this before. I’m not sure I want to do it all again,” he said.
She was conscious of every movement of her body. The furrow of her eyebrows, the cool sensation spreading over her skin, the bottoming out of her stomach. She thought of how difficult it had been for him when she’d said she loved him. That strange guilt in his eyes she’d thought had to do with grief.
More: A Body Work Novel (The Body Work Trilogy Book 4) Page 30