“Heidi, if he does anything stupid, get yourself to the airport and call me. I’ll get you on the next plane out.”
She swore to me she would have a cop go with her to gather her things. Although I did try to convince her to just leave her old stuff there, and come home with me. She insisted she wanted to face him, when she asked him for a divorce.
She sat patiently, as I contacted Dean Morgan. He told her he had a new paralegal, Preston Daniels, who was always asking for extra cases. Dean assured her no court in the country would force a woman to stay in a marriage she didn’t want. Mr. Daniels called a few minutes later, and he and Heidi spent over an hour discussing her case. He assured her he would be available the moment she stepped off the plane, and would file the paperwork personally.
As much as I enjoyed my time with my sister, I couldn’t wait to get back to my life, and my friends. Hanging out with Claire was almost like having another sister. She and Dylan had been getting very close; he adored her, that was easy to see. Instead of calling her and possibly interrupting their sexy time, I sent her a text. It was safer that way.
Pulling into Dylan’s shop, the sign which once read “Iks”, now looked really hot and completely badass, with “Absolute Power” in bright letters. The shop now suited the owner, displaying the same edge he possessed.
Dylan Morgan will forever be a hero in my eyes. Had he not reacted the way he did, I don’t want to think about what could have happened. I’ve spent too many hours on the ‘what ifs’.
Shelly, my counselor, refused to let me play the ‘what if’ game. She was an older southern woman, who was compassionate, yet firm during our sessions. She had a complete repertoire of more old time sayings than I’d ever heard. “What if your Uncle Bob had breasts, he would be your Aunt Tilly.” The mental image of a skinny man, with chicken legs, a straw hat, and engorged boobs protruding from his chest, his beard only adding to the confusion, always had me giggling. It was her way of breaking the tension, and refocusing the session.
As I walked into the shop, I noticed Claire and Dylan right off. God she looked so happy, wrapped in his arms, and smiling like she didn’t have a care in the world. Something in her eyes told me something big had happened while I was away. She might not be able to tell me now, but as soon as I got her alone, she would have to dish.
I hadn’t realized Carson was in the room, until I heard the thump of his chair legs hitting the floor. He and Miss Georgia were the parents I never had. Claire had no idea how often Carson came over. He and I would just sit and discuss life in general, but there were also times when he would try and help me understand why people like Cash did what they do to people. He was comforting, yet kept his distance. He knew that I wasn’t ready for any type of physical contact, especially from the male gender. He was a patient man, and made sure that when I was ready, he would help me. The first time I was able to hug him, I cried like a baby in his arms. He held me gingerly, letting me release all my pent up emotions, and then wiped the tears away when I was finished.
“Lainie, my darling, look at you,” he whispered. As he slowly stretched his arms out to me, offering me a hug.
“Hey, Carson, I missed you.” I smiled, while wrapping my arms around him.
“Missed you too, Darlin’. It’s been boring ‘round here without you.”
He was full of shit. With the company he kept, boring would never be a description he could use.
“Hey, Austin, come on over here, I want you to meet someone.” My smile faded, as I took in the man now standing beside Dylan. The resemblance was uncanny. Like two pieces of marble cut from the same quarry. Austin’s hair was much darker than Dylan’s, yet he had the same chiseled features, and muscular frame.
“Lainie, this here’s my brother Austin.” Dylan’s smile was radiant, as he motioned toward his brother. A sly smile developed on Austin’s face, and his hands found their way into the front pockets of his jeans. His face was dusted with just a dash of scruff, giving him a mysterious, and incredibly sexy look. It was his eyes, however, that took my breath away. Where Dylan had these deep, almost impossibly blue eyes, his brother’s were an electric, soul reaching blue. Instantly, all of my attention and rational thought, were held captive within his magnetic stare “Austin, this beauty is my Claire’s best friend, Lainie Perry.”
All my recent inhibitions and fears, seemed to have disappeared. When I managed to tear my eyes from his, I found my hand cradled in his, soft skin against softer skin. There were calluses on the tips of his fingers. Whether from years of video games or keyboard use, I wasn’t sure. “The pleasure is all mine, Miss Lainie.”
Back when I attended Caltech, I worked my ass off to win scholarships the alumni offered to one student every year. It was enough money to pay my tuition, and give me a small allowance to use so I wouldn’t have to work. When the finalist was announced, I never imagined I would actually win. There were three of us invited to the dinner. At the ceremony that followed, they announced the winner. The belly full of butterflies I felt before they called my name, gave way to absolute elation, once the check was in my hands. Providing me with the needed funds to allow me to graduate. That feeling was nothing compared to the warm feeling I felt in my gut, when Austin Morgan said my name.
There was no fear in my chest, no anxiety rising to the top, simply comfort, and contentment. His smile was so genuine and unforced; it was as if he truly meant it.
“Austin, you got any plans for tonight?” Dylan was once again wrapped around Claire, securing her to his chest. A place she admitted she loved more than anywhere else.
“Nothing I can’t cancel.” His voice so deep and mesmerizing, all while his eyes stayed honed in on mine.
“Carson, you wanna call Miss Georgia, and have her meet us?” I think it was Claire who offered the invite. But, with Austin still holding my hand, all rational thoughts were being rerouted to a file I would have to review later.
“Miss Lainie, it would be an honor if you would allow me to drive you to the restaurant.”
Claire moved away from Dylan, sliding her arm around me. “Actually Austin, I haven’t seen my best friend in weeks. She and I will meet y’all at the restaurant. We have things to discuss.”
“So, where are we headed?”
Claire slid into the passenger seat, securing the seat belt, as she waved at Dylan and Austin, who chose to take their bikes. As incredible as Austin looked standing in the middle of the shop, that man was lethal with the way he was straddling that bike. With his jean clad legs, and Doc Martin boots, he made sliding a helmet on look more like a calendar shoot, than safety gear. But the crème de la crème, was when he slid his sunglasses into place, slow and torturous, like he knew I was watching. Dylan revved his motor, then peeled out into the intersection. Austin shook his head, but then followed after his brother.
“A place I’ve heard good things about, Five Loaves.”
Claire told me to turn left at the next intersection, then settled back into her seat. “So, what did I miss between you and Dylan?” She couldn’t run from me inside a moving car. I also knew she wouldn’t be able to lie to me, or tell me I was imagining things.
“He said he loves me.” Her eyes still on the road ahead, her admission not surprising me. Once Claire let that man in, she owned his soul. Dylan was exactly what she needed, and she him. They would be a dynamic team, able to conquer anything.
“About time.” I hid my smile, although my lips twitched.
“What?”
“Oh, come on, Claire. The man gave up fucking everything that owned a pussy to be with you. His balls have been in your purse since the night you cleaned up his hand in the ER.”
“I wouldn’t go quite that far,” she trailed off, watching the traffic light as it changed to green. She never commented on how I didn’t freak out over the memory, or perhaps she was avoiding it. That would be classic Claire, putting everyone else’s feelings before her own.
“I have some exciting news of my own.
”
Claire turned back to me, her face sharing my excitement, as she listened to my joy over Heidi moving to Charleston. “I’m so excited for you. You’ll have to bring her by my house, so the three of us can go do something.” I agreed. I wanted my sister and my best friend to become friends.
“So what do you think of Austin?” Her question didn’t sound as if there was a hidden meaning. No emphasis on any particular word.
I tried my hardest to sound just as indifferent, “He seems very nice. But, is he like Dylan?” Maybe it wrong to lump them together, to label Austin a womanizer.
“He is really nice, and I think you will have a lot in common with him. He used to work for a computer company, Lightfoot or Light-something.”
“Lighthouse?”
“Yes, that’s it, Lighthouse.” Claire nodded, snapping her fingers.
“Why did he leave them?” Lighthouse was an old company, with lots of financial backing, until the founder died. Last I’d heard, the new management, who ironically was my nemesis’s brother, was running the place into the ground.
“Something about a program they canceled or something.”
“Hmm?” If we had the opportunity, I would have to ask him about it.
I had heard of a program, very hush-hush, which could take control of a financial institution’s password system. The holder of the program would be able to infiltrate the institution’s mainframe, accessing all of their accounts. Essentially, they could delete accounts, transfer funds from one account to another, or open accounts. It was highly suspect why a program like that would be designed. As its true purpose would lean heavily towards illegal activities. It was originally designed to simply scramble passwords. If Austin was the original creator, he and I would have to sit and compare notes.
Austin and Dylan arrived before we did, and were standing in the parking lot. The pair of them looked like a slice of heaven with those jeans, boots, and ball caps flipped backwards, hiding their helmet head, I’m sure they could make popular. Dylan immediately moved to Claire’s side, opening the door, and pulling her out. She giggled as he dove for her neck, whispering he loved her, as he kissed her gently.
“Miss Lainie.” Austin offered as he opened my door, startling me slightly, extending his hand to help me out. A slight breeze brought his alluring scent in to fill my car, a mixture of leather, soap, and something I couldn’t identify. Not wanting to appear rude or miss an opportunity to touch him, I accepted his hand with a smile.
“Why thank you kind sir”
I’ve never been one of those giggly girls, batting my eyelashes with unabashed flirting. Level headed and cautious was more my style. Examining people from afar, not jumping into relationships at the slightest smile, or show of attention.
“Have you ever eaten here before?” Austin Morgan possessed one of those rich baritone voices, which defined men for me. I was never a fan of a guy who was still waiting for puberty to kick in. I wanted a manly voice, which would send chills down my spine, and swirl carnal notions around my lady bits.
“No, but Claire said it was a good place, so I’m sure it will be fine.” I shrugged, as I stepped onto the curb of the restaurant. Claire came up behind me, pulling at my arm, holding me back to allow the guys to walk ahead of us. Men here in Charleston took the role of gentlemen seriously. I’d gotten used to it, and honestly, enjoyed the hell out of it. I waited for Austin to open the door, getting a closer view of the snug fit of his Levi’s, which made his firm ass look really good. Casting my vision further north, I found the name and logo of the bike shop in the center of his back. As he turned in our direction, I nearly tripped over my own feet. Not only did he have the voice of many naughty dreams, his smile could melt mere mortals.
As soon as we stepped through the door, the aroma of charred beef welcomed me. It awakened my hunger, and focused my attention away from the hunk of man, who by the way the hostess’s eyes were about to come out of her head, was standing at the door.
“Hello,” breathed the hostess. A thick, younger girl, with a pretty smile and great skin, cleared her throat, and shook her head in an attempt to regain her focus. “How many will be dining this evening?” Her smile forced, her focus on me, and not the towers of seduction standing behind me.
“Eight,” came a deep response from beside me. I turned my head slightly to my right, his height requiring me to extend my gaze up higher. Austin had his cell phone in his hands, ignoring the world around him, as his thumbs tapped away at his screen.
Who was so important he needed to text them now? Given the way he looked, and the reputation of his older brother, he was most likely sexting some girl. Did she ride on the back of his bike, fulfilling some fantasy he had about road head? More importantly, why did I even care? As if he knew I was looking, his eyes flashed to mine, sending a flirty wink in my direction.
“Are y’all with the Morgan party?”
Standing beside the hostess was a much taller, and strikingly handsome man. Broad shoulders, which could hold up the world, as our momma would say, and sparkling green eyes speckled with a hint of mischief. Just like Austin and Dylan, his Levi’s were painted on—God’s signature wrapping on a fine male ass. Black t-shirt, tight against a muscled chest, accentuating every chiseled line, and valley. His gaze held mine for a second, and then moves on to Austin beside me. Just as quick, he looks back at me. A half smile forming on his face, as he adjusts his stance, trying to appear just as sexy and confidant as he feels. It’s a practiced move, I’ve seen it a number of times in various bars. Men will stand against the wall or the edge of a dance floor, looking for their intended target. Once the girl is located, the mating posture is engaged. Where most women I know fall over themselves to get closer to a man like this, it turns my stomach. You want to impress me? Open your mouth and speak intelligently. Don’t brag about how many seconds your last keg stand was.
Ghosting fingers move across my shoulders, causing me to look to my left again. Austin had moved much closer to me, his left arm tucking me into his side. I wait for the panic to start, for the overwhelming fear to crash over me like a tidal wave bringing me under, but it never comes. The crushing pain in my chest never makes an appearance. In its place are the tingles from my heart racing, and the beginnings of butterflies in anticipation.
“We are the Morgan’s.”
I can feel the deep rumble of Austin’s voice through the miniscule amount of his chest I’m touching. I can smell the left over leather of his jacket, combined with the unmistakable smell of man.
“Right, please follow me.” The hostess picked up some menus, as we followed her through the restaurant.
I’ve seen my fair share of pissing matches in my days, been the reason for the fight on a few occasions, but this time felt different somehow. Our hostess has an arm full of menus, and a new smile on her face. Just as forced as the one she gave us earlier, her current one belongs to Mr. Green Eyes. Poor soul has it bad for him, and my guess is the feelings aren’t returned. I’d love to warn her. To tell her to hold out for a guy who cared about her, and not fall for the bad boy, who would only rip your heart to shreds.
The restaurant is in an older building. Real hardwood floors covering the entire front of the house, and bright red brick with faded white mortar, covers the wall which separates the kitchen from the customers. In the back of the long room, I can see what looks to be a private dining area, and by the direction the hostess is headed, we are about to be seated in there. She stops at the door, moves to the side, and with an outstretched arm, invites us in.
Seated at the head of the table is the very handsome Dean Morgan, who stands as we walk into the room. Beside him, with her back to the large window, is one of the sweetest women alive, Priscilla. I’ve never told anyone what an incredible friend I’d found in Mrs. Morgan. She came to me almost in an angelic way, one morning when I was attempting to walk past the library. She held my hand, and told me stories of how she had found herself in a situation much like mine.
“Healing has no knowledge of time,” she’d said. It was something her late father told her after one of her many failed attempts at having children.
Priscilla practically jumped from her seat, eyes bright, and the largest smile I’ve ever seen gracing her face. For such a petite woman, her hug rivals that of a linebacker. But it feels warm and welcome, as if she’s sharing with you all the love she has. All the while, trying her best to increase the good in the world, banishing the bad into the depths of hell.
“Dean, have you ever seen such a beautiful sight as these two beauties?”
“Yes, Priscilla, every mornin’ when I see your face.”
Dean genuinely means what he said, not because he feels the need to show off or score points with his wife, but because it’s the truth. He is madly in love with his wife. Someday, and I hope this with every fiber in me, I want to find a man who can give me his heart in a way Dean has done for Priscilla.
“What the heck are we, yesterday’s leftovers?” Dylan moves around the table, a scowl on his face that I know is fake. He’s a different man, no longer the angry cop who I met all those months ago. Still crass and a complete ass at times, however, just like his father, he is in serious love with a woman.
“Nah, you’re just not as pretty to look at.” As Austin waits his turn to shake his father’s hand, I catch him looking at me. He owns it, not looking away when I catch him. He possesses the kind of confidence, which not many have mastered. Owning your shit goes a long way with me.
Priscilla squeezes my hand, and I’ve nearly forgotten she was talking to me. I shifted my attention from the man I have no business ogling, to the woman before me, who has a knowing glint in her eye. She saw Austin walk in with me, arm still around me appearing protective, and no doubt she witnessed our little exchange of not so subtle eye fucking.
“You’re a very lucky woman, Miss Priscilla.” Deflection has always worked for me in the past. While removing myself from sticky situations in order to save my dignity, and on a few occasions, my body.
Absolute Corruption: Southern Justice Trilogy Page 5