Drilled: (Hard 'n Dirty Book 7)

by Ava Sinclair

  “Oh, god…” I speak the words into the empty interior of the car, wondering how I’ve managed to get myself into such a hot mess. I could call him. I could tell him that we have to stop seeing each other, that this can’t go anywhere. But for the life of me, I can’t bring myself to pick up the phone. When it rings just as I pull into the hotel parking lot, I startle, half hoping it’s his number flashing on the screen. But it’s not Cal’s number. It’s my father’s number. I don’t want to answer, but I do.

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “Iris, where the hell have you been? Rita said you were coming back to the hotel to work. I’ve been trying to call you for the last few hours. When I couldn’t get you I got worried and came over.”

  I feel a sudden chill. “You’re here?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. Where are you?”

  “I just pulled in, Daddy.”

  “I’m in the lobby. Come on in.”

  It’s an order. He clicks off. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I pull down the visor on my car. My hair is a mess, my face is still flushed. I’m not wearing a bra. How in the hell am I going to face my father looking like this? I’m in a full-blown panic.

  My hands are shaking as I exit the car. I don’t have any choice but to go in. I smooth my hair and cross my arms over my chest as I enter the lobby. My father is pacing in front of the desk. I glance at the desk. From the clerk’s beleaguered expression, I suspect Daddy was demanding to know where I was, as if I were the hotel’s responsibility.

  My father scowls when he sees me. “Where have you been? You look like hell.” He glances down. “Is that…dirt on your pants?”

  “I went out for a drive in the country. I got out to see the moon and slipped on my way back to the car.” The lie comes easily. “I’m tired, Daddy. What do you want?”

  He continues to stare at me with skepticism before forcing softness into his expression. “Look,” he says quietly. “I know you’re sore at me. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings this afternoon.”

  I’m speechless. My father never apologizes to anyone.

  “Honey, it’s going to be a rough few days, but this will be over soon. The media will move on to something else and you can go back to the Dallas office. Hell, you can even take a nice vacation. How about Fiji? You said you wanted to go back.”

  Now I understand. My father isn’t here to apologize. He’s here to make sure I carry through facing the media as the pretty, lying face of his company. He’s here to pretend to love me, to dangle something I want in front of me to sweeten this Devil’s Bargain he wants me to make. I want to tell him that I see right through him, but I can’t find the words. I’m too tired for a confrontation, and now is not the time anyway.

  “So we’re good, Iris?”

  I drop my gaze to the arms still folded over my chest. “Yeah, Daddy. We’re good.”

  “I’ll see you in the morning, then.”

  There’s a flood of relief when he leaves and I can’t get up to my room fast enough. I undress, baring skin last touched by a forbidden lover. I’d asked Cal to leave me sore, and he’s done just that. My ass and pussy are both tender, but the pain now is a reminder of what I risk by wanting Cal. He offered me the dream of a simple life. My father offered me Fiji. Even if I could be with Cal, could I be happy? Could he, knowing he could never give me the life I’ve become used to? Would the frustration drive him to resent me? In the end, I could lose everything. And for what?

  Then I think of what my father has asked me to do, the lies he wants me to tell. I think of Ray’s family, of the men who have been hurt through my father’s greed. If I go through with this lie, how will I find happiness unless I become as heartless as the man who raised me? Ultimately, allegiance to my father will cost me far more than he could ever provide. It will cost me my soul.

  My father doesn’t love me. I know Cal does.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Cal

  The bar isn’t as crowded tonight. Darla is slinging drinks just like she was the last time I came in, but Gary isn’t here to harass her. Like Ray and several others, he’s still recovering from his injuries.

  The table where Ray and the others were sitting the first night I was here is occupied by other men, but the one I’m looking for isn’t among them. I scan the hazy bar for the one crewmember I know was off the day of the leak. Then I see him, sitting alone at the end of the bar watching television and drinking a beer.

  I walk over to him. “Jose, right?”

  He looks me up and down for a moment. “That’s not my name.” He turns his attention back to the television overhead.

  “You aren’t the guy who Ray had fetching him beers the last time I was here?”

  “Yeah, I’m that guy. But my name’s not Jose. That’s just what he called me. It’s what he calls all the Mexicans. My name’s Miguel.”

  “Mind if I take a seat?” I ask.

  “No.”

  I settle onto a stool beside him.

  “It’s pretty awful what happened to him,” I say.

  “Yes. Yes it is.” He looks over at me. I see wariness in his eyes. I know he’s wondering why I’m here, talking about Ray.

  “Have you seen him?” I asked.

  “I stopped by the hospital. I gave my regards to his family, brought some cookies my wife made for his kids. They’re going through a lot.”

  I ponder this, juxtaposing his concern for the crew foreman against the way Ray treated him the night I was at the bar.

  “Ray didn’t seem to have a lot of respect for you, if you don’t mind my saying so.”

  “It was just his way,” Miguel replies with a shrug. “I didn’t like it, but Ray could be a pandejo to everybody. He had a heart, though. Last year when my little boy was in the hospital, Ray came by every afternoon to see him on his way home from work. He even donated some of this vacation days so I could be with him. He’s a strange man. I like him.”

  I decide I like Miguel. But can I trust him? What I’m about to do is risky.

  “You were lucky to be off that day,” I tell him.

  “I was. My son had a doctor’s appointment. My wife drives a school bus and couldn’t take him. I think God was looking out for us.” He makes the sign of the cross and I notice he’s wearing both a crucifix and a small medallion depicting St. Christopher. An honest man. A man of faith.

  “Do you know anything about what happened? Had you seen anything that made you think something like this could happen?”

  Miguel studies me carefully. “We’ve been told not to talk about it.” His expression remains guarded. “I have a sick kid. I can’t afford to lose my job, man. Accidents happen. The oilfield is a dangerous place.”

  “Yeah, well, it doesn’t have to as dangerous as it is, Miguel.” I speak with a lowered voice.

  He regards me in silence.

  “I don’t know anything, man,” he finally says. He rises from his seat, leaving the half-empty mug of beer on the bar. As he turns away, I call to him.

  “Miguel…” I get up as well and step toward him. “What would you say if I told you I heard they’re going to try and pin this accident on Ray?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The company,” I say, lowering my voice to just above a whisper. “They’re going to claim that Ray didn’t bring in the new safety equipment they purchased, that he used old monitors. They’re going to say this was all his fault.”

  “This is bullshit!” He pauses, wary again. “Why are you telling me this, a man you do not even know?”

  “The last time I was here, Ray said something about needing equipment and not getting it. You worked on Ray’s crew. You strike me as a man who observes things. I was wondering if you heard or saw anything that might help clear Ray.”

  “Why do you care?”

  He’s guarded. Can I blame him?

  “Let’s just say I’m trying to help someone get the truth out. Someone high up in the company.”

  “I don’t know anything.” His voice i
s strained, and once again, he doesn’t meet my eyes.

  “St. Christopher.”

  “Excuse me, amigo?”

  I point to his necklace. “St. Christopher. My mother had one just like it. He was her favorite.” I clap my hand on his shoulder. “Thanks for your time.”

  I turn away before he can see the disappointment in my eyes. I’d really hoped he could help me. It was a wild card, though. I was crazy to get my hopes up.

  I leave the bar, walking through the same parking lot where I punched out Gary. I’m halfway to the truck when I hear someone call out.

  “Hey! Wait!”

  I look back to see Miguel jogging toward me. When he reaches me, he runs his hand over his face.

  “I have something,” he says, lowering his voice. “A recording. I didn’t make it on purpose…” He looks around nervously then pulls out his phone as I wonder how someone accidentally makes a recording. When I see the video, it makes sense.

  It’s a video of a double rainbow over the oilfield. Off to the side, just in the frame, is Ray and another man. The phone picks up their conversation.

  “I’ve put in three requests for the new monitors, but they just ignore them,” Ray is saying. “These don’t halfway work. I want everybody to stay sharp. You even think you smell gas, you and the other boys best say something.”

  The camera zooms in on the rainbow and the rest of the conversation is drowned out by heavy equipment. The video ends a moment later.

  I look at him. “Miguel, this is just what we need.”

  He steps back. “I want to help. It’s the right thing to do. But if I lose my job…I need the insurance. My son, he has medical problems.”

  I put my hand on his shoulder. “The person I’m working with will know how to handle it. If you send me the video, I’ll make sure they know you’re only sharing it over with the understanding that you’ll have to be protected.”

  “Can I think about it?”

  I want to press him. I want to tell him I need it now, but I understand the situation he’s in. As a family man, he has more than I do at stake. Much more. “Of course, Miguel. Just take my number so you’ll have it if you decide to help.”

  After I give Miguel my number, he turns and goes to his car, and for the second time this evening, I doubt that I’ll able to help Iris. I drive back to the motel, turning my thoughts to her. What am I hoping to get in return? Gratitude? Love? Once this is over, she’ll come to her senses and walk out of my life. She’d be crazy not to.

  But even if we can’t be together, I’d like Iris to at least remember me as the hero who helped her do the right thing and stand up to her father.

  Of course, I can’t do that without Miguel’s evidence, and by the time I open the door of my room, I’m convinced it’s not something he’ll be willing to do. Then my phone dings. It’s a text from Miguel. I can hardly believe it, but he’s sent the video.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Iris

  I’m on a beach in Fiji. Bunny is there, along with her boyfriend, Forrest, and his brother Lane, who my dad always hinted would be a good match. We’re having Mai Tais at an outdoor cafe and Bunny is walking up to each one of us, taking the umbrellas out of our drinks and putting them in hers like she always does.

  “Don’t take Iris’ umbrella.” Lane winks at me. He’s wearing a pink polo. “Hey, babe. I’ll get you another one.”

  He snaps his finger and the waiter walks over. But it’s not just any waiter. It’s Cal, only his hands are stained with oil. Lane looks him up and down as the table goes silent.

  “Can I help you?” Cal’s tone is polite.

  “No, you can’t help us. You’re filthy.” Lane’s voice is filled with disgust.

  “Yeah, but I can still fetch her a drink.” Cal is looking at me.

  “I don’t think so.” Lane puts his arm possessively around my shoulders. “A man like you isn’t good enough to give Iris anything.”

  Mean laughter comes from another table. I see my father, sitting alone. He grins and raises his glass to Lane, who smirks.

  A noise startles me. I wake to the sound of a ringtone, and it takes a moment to realize I’m not in Fiji, but in my room with the bedside clock showing 5 a.m. on the digital display. I have a moment of panic as I fumble for my phone. No one calls this early with good news. I sit up, my heart catching in my throat when I see the caller ID registering the number of the phone I gave Cal.

  “Cal? Is everything okay?” I’m so rattled I don’t even say, “Hello.”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry to call you so early, but I wanted to give you a heads up so you’d have time to think about things.”

  “What things?” I’m wide awake now.

  I sit in stunned silence as he tells me about Miguel, about their conversation, about the solid proof he now has that will exonerate Ray.

  I grow quiet, feeling the full impact of having the evidence I need within reach. This isn’t just proof that will clear an innocent, comatose man. It’s information that will ruin my father. I suddenly feel very scared.

  “Can you come over?” I ask.

  “Do you think that’s a good idea?”

  “It’s still dark. Nobody will notice you.” I run my hand through my hair. “Please? I don’t want to be alone right now. Today isn’t going to be easy.”

  “Sure, baby. Where are you staying?”

  I give him the name of the hotel and the room number. I tell him I’ll be waiting and I tell myself I just need someone to talk to, a shoulder to cry on. But deep inside, I know I’ll want more. Despite the fact that my ass and pussy are still tender from our latest romp, despite the fact that it’s hard to imagine this thing with Cal—whatever it is— going beyond a torrid affair, I crave him.

  I could lie back down. I could try to get another twenty or thirty minutes of sleep before Cal arrives, but I can’t. My body is already on high alert as my mind strays to what we did together just hours earlier. In the shower before bed, I’d traced the path of his fingers with my own, my hands moving between my legs to caress the sensitive folds of my pussy, to circle the rim of my sore bottom hole where he’d lodged his huge cock. I still marvel that I’d been able to take him. I’d never even liked the thought of anal sex, but he marked me there. He owns me there now. I love the feel of it, of being claimed, of having his sexual stamp burned into my psyche. Cal’s woman. Cal’s ass. His.

  Stop it! You know better. This can’t possibly work. Stop it.

  I lie in the dark, watching the numbers on the clock change, my ears tuned for the sound of Cal’s truck pulling into the lot below. When I hear it, my heart thumps faster in my chest. I count seconds until the light rap at my door, rising from the bed to answer.

  I’m so glad to see him, but also scared, because I know what he’s about to hand me means I can’t see him again. Cal and I embrace as soon as he shuts the door.

  “Here,” he says, holding out his phone, pushing play on a video so I can see it. I listen to the conversation, hearing the voice of a man who still lies voiceless in a hospital.

  “Can you send it to me?” I ask.

  “Sure.” He forwards me the video, then looks at me. “Miguel is a good man,” Cal says. “He wants some kind of guarantee that he won’t lose his job.”

  I sigh heavily. “How can I promise him that?”

  “You’re an official with the company now, Iris. You’ll have to let the press know the video came from a whistleblower. If your father tries to fire Miguel, someone will need to stand up for him. You’ll be the only person with that kind of power. I know your father is holding your trust fund over your head, but if it really came down to losing you, I can’t imagine he’d risk it. Surely he loves you enough to listen…”

  I shake my head, the word coming from my mouth barely a whisper. “No, Cal,” I say. “No, he doesn’t. My father may love me in his own way, but he loves himself more. If he thinks I’m standing in the way of what he’s built, I’ll be dead to him.”


  “No father could be that cruel.” He takes my chin in his hand and turns my face toward him. “If I had a little girl like you, I’d fucking walk through fire for her. And of all the things in this world that could hurt her, the last person she’d have to worry about doing that would be her daddy.”

  “Cal…” My arms wind around his neck. He pulls me to him, his grip mirroring the emotional desperation I feel. “I love you.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

  He buries his lips in my hair. “I love you, too.”

  He continues to hold me, making no promises, offering me no guarantees. I want him. He wants me. But my life, my circumstance, my father…they might as well be three huge walls standing between a future together. But I don’t want to acknowledge them, not in this moment, when he holds me in his arms for what may be the last time.

  I sink to the floor between his legs, my hands moving to the snap of his jeans. “Let me?”

  “Iris…”

  “Please?” My voice is quavering with need and emotion. I’m not waiting for an answer. I want to kneel before him, to make him the sole focus of my moment, to please him on what may be our last night together.

  Cal stands, placing a broad hand on my head, giving me his silent permission. His cock is pressed so tightly against the front of his jeans that I struggle to undo the zipper. It springs free into my hands, the skin of the fleshy staff stretched soft over the hard, vein-ridged surface. I lower my head, my hot breath caressing the flared head, where a clear drop of fluid crowns the slit.

  He’s clutching the bedside table, his corded forearms bulging as he braces for the moist heat of my mouth to close around him.

  Does he know how I’ve longed for this moment? I dart my tongue out, lapping the pre-cum from the head of his cock like sacrament, glorying in the salty essence of his arousal. I feel myself getting wet. My pussy throbs with the need to be filled as he now fills my mouth. My lips slide over the fleshy knob; I pause to caress the little ridge on the underside with the flat of my tongue; he rewards me with a deep moan. Cal winds his hand in my hair. I move my mouth down his shaft until I take all I can hold. His thick cock throbs, the tip pulsing against the back of my throat.