by Jessie Cooke
“Yes.” He said it with no emotion and he could tell by the look on her face that she was frightened, or in shock. He knew that he was taking a huge risk that she’d go to the police and tell them what he’d told her. He doubted it, though. He’d already gotten the impression that whatever the authorities did or did not do for her sister, she hadn’t been impressed.
“Okay, what do you need from me?”
It was Garrett’s turn to be shocked. He wasn’t really expecting her to go along with it, especially not so easily. Maybe it was because she had it in her head that everything he’d done thus far had been for the good of his country and others. What she didn’t know was what he did for the club, and his friends like Dax…but she didn’t need to know the details of all that. “I need to know everything you know about him, and then I need a few days to follow him and figure out his routine.”
She looked slightly ill when she said, “His name is Benjamin Ewell. He’s thirty years old and he’s an executive officer at the Silver Spoon casino.”
Garrett frowned. “That new casino that just opened on Fremont Street?”
She nodded. “He was at the Bellagio for years. The Silver Spoon recruited him just a few weeks before the…rape.” That word seemed like poison on her tongue, she spat it out every time. She took a breath and went on, “There was a good chance because of his connections and his high-powered attorney that he was going to walk even if this went to trial. He’s rich, he’s good-looking, and he has a lot of friends in high places. You may have seen some of the interviews on the news where his friends adamantly denied he would ever do anything remotely as savage as what he did to Amanda.”
“I don’t watch TV,” he said.
“Smart move,” Paige said. “It’s all crap. They made him look like a fucking saint. Amanda told me what he did to her and I listened to her waking up and screaming every night…I’ve never heard anything like those screams; my blood ran cold every time. His friends tried to say she’d misidentified him, but I was there that night at the bar. I saw him with my own two eyes. Then, there were the ones that said she was making false allegations, looking for some kind of payout. Every time Amanda heard that, it sent her spiraling even closer to what finally happened. It’s like living in a nightmare I can’t escape from.”
Garrett was already mapping out what he knew of the new hotel and casino in his head. Security was so tight in Vegas that it would probably be the worst place for him to take this guy out. He’d have to find out where he lived and what his routines were. The bullet, the one shot, that was the easy part. He looked back over at Paige. Her face was showing a gamut of emotions and he wanted to hold her again. “I need to know that you’re sure about this before I go any further.”
She looked straight into his eyes and he tried not to get lost in the gold flecks swimming in hers. “I’ve never been so sure of anything. I want him burning in hell.”
Paige woke up, disoriented, to the smell of something wonderful. Her stomach growled in desire before her mind was even awake. She lifted her head and slowly looked around the room. The memories started to come back. The suicide attempt, Garrett, the kidnapping…the plot to kill the monster. She was in Garrett’s bedroom, lying on his bed. They’d talked for a long time about Benjamin Ewell, and Paige told him everything she’d learned about him so far. She also told him the details of what he did to Amanda. She felt like she needed to in order to justify what they were talking about doing. It was far from anything she ever thought she’d consider, but she was more than considering it, she wanted it done.
Garrett had gotten out his laptop and began looking at things related to Ewell, and while Paige watched him, she felt herself drifting off to sleep. When he first suggested she go lie down, she’d protested, but she just hadn’t been able to keep her eyes open and she finally agreed. She thought she’d have the nightmare as soon as she closed her eyes, but she hadn’t. She’d gone to sleep the second her head hit the pillow and she breathed in the fresh, woodsy scent of the big man who slept there. It made her feel safe to know he was in the other room, and as odd as that was, she knew it was real when she opened her eyes and realized that not even the nightmares dared come near him. She sat up and looked over at the digital numbers on the clock at the bedside. She’d thought it was only so dark because the curtains were pulled tightly shut, but she was shocked when she looked at the clock and saw that it was already almost seven p.m. She’d been sleeping for hours. It was the first time since Amanda died that she’d slept so peacefully, and she had her kidnapper to thank.
She got out of the bed and went into the small bathroom attached to it. Evidence that a man lived there was everywhere. He was neat and tidy, but razors, aftershave, and bottles of cologne covered the counter and everything that wasn’t white was in shades of blue or brown. She used his toothpaste to freshen her mouth and then washed her face and brushed back her hair. Her eyes were puffy, her nose was red, and there were lines on her face from the pillow where she’d slept hard in one spot the entire time. She laughed at herself inwardly for even caring about what she looked like just then. She’d spent the day discussing suicide and murder with a complete stranger and now she wanted to look pretty for him. Crazy.
She left the bedroom and followed the delicious smell past the living room and into the kitchen. The kitchen was tiny, and Garrett’s huge form took up most of the space. He smiled at her and she had to remind herself to breathe. The more the idea of dying receded, the more she was beginning to realize just what an incredibly sexy man he was. “Hey, how’d you sleep?”
“So good…and too long. I’m sorry.”
He made a face at her. “What are you sorry for? You needed it, obviously. I made dinner.”
“I smelled it when I woke up. It smells wonderful. What is it?”
“Pulled pork sandwiches.” He shrugged and chuckled before saying, “It’s really all I know how to make.”
“It sounds great. My stomach is growling.”
“Here, sit down.” He pulled out a chair for her and served her like she was in a restaurant, pouring her soda into a glass with ice and everything. He sat down across from her and she wondered how the chair was holding him. The kitchen table didn’t look like it had been made for a three-hundred-pound man. They ate in silence except when Paige told him it was amazing. He seemed to be happy about that, and she wasn’t lying. It might be his only dish, but he did it up right. By the time she finished her sandwich, she was stuffed, and he was finishing his third. She couldn’t help but wonder how his parents had been able to afford to feed him when he was growing up. She was about to make light of it when his phone rang. He looked at it and the change that came over him was almost palpable in the small room. Paige knew it had to be his daughter even before he put the phone to his ear and said:
“Hey there, baby girl, why are you up so late?” He listened to what she said, and Paige watched his face. It was a mixture of the purest love she’d ever seen and pain. When she finished talking he said, “Remember what Daddy told you about those nightmares, baby? That dream catcher I hung over your bed was supposed to catch them before they got into your pretty head.” The little girl said something else and Garrett laughed. “Well, I guess I can’t argue with that. If you had a nightmare, it must not be doing its job. You want me to read you the story?” She must have said yes because he looked at Paige and mouthed, “Excuse me.” She nodded, and he got up and left the room.
Paige was smiling as she started cleaning up the kitchen. Somehow there was nothing sweeter than a giant man melting over a little girl. She carried the dishes to the sink and was about to turn the water on when she heard his voice. Feeling a little creepy for eavesdropping, she crept over to the kitchen island where the wooden fan window was closed and listened.
“Okay, baby, you ready?” A brief pause and then he said, “The turtle mama tucked the baby turtle in his shell with a kiss and said, ‘Sweet dreams.’ She was about to leave the room when the turtle baby poke
d his head back out and said, ‘I had a bad dream.’ The turtle mama laughed and said, ‘Silly, put your head back in your shell and go to sleep.’ She started to leave again, and he said, ‘But Mama, I did have a bad dream.’ The mama turtle went back over to her baby and said, ‘Close your eyes, little one, and I’ll sing you a song about dreams.’ The baby turtle closed his eyes and his mama began to sing…” Garrett laughed. “No, baby, Daddy’s not going to sing it tonight.” He listened again and then sighed. “Okay, but I have to sing it softly, okay?” Paige’s face hurt from smiling. Who would have thought her kidnapper and an admitted killer could be so adorable? He cleared his throat and began to sing. He’d only sung a couple of words when he stopped again and said, “Do you really need the turtle voice tonight?” Apparently, she did, because in a few minutes, in one of the funniest, high-pitched voices Paige had ever heard, he started to sing again:
“I close my eyes and dream about tomorrow, where pretty things do dwell.
I close my eyes and dream about the next day where happiness won’t fail,
I close my turtle eyes and breathe because I have everything and everyone here that I need.
The good dreams have me wrapped in their arms, where all night I’ll stay,
Safe and warm and happy until I’m ready to feel the sunshine of yet another day.
So, I close my turtle eyes and I tuck my turtle head and snuggle down deeply into my soft, warm bed. I kiss my mama goodnight and give my daddy a hug and slip off to dreamland where I’ll be as snug as a bug.”
“You still with me, darlin’?” Garrett was quiet for a minute and Paige tiptoed back over to the sink with tears in her eyes. She wasn’t sure what she was crying about—her problems, his, the sweet way he spoke to his little girl, or the fact that baby almost lost her daddy that day. She used a paper towel to dry her tears and by the time Garrett came back into the kitchen, he had no idea she’d been listening, or crying. He was back to his quiet self, sucking all of the oxygen out of the room without even knowing it, and more than ever, Paige was finding it damned hard not to climb that mountain and bury her head in his chest and slip off to dreamland where she could be as snug as a bug.
7
Paige had gone to bed and Garrett was trying to get comfortable on the couch, but finding it impossible. He was too freaking big to sleep on the couch for one thing, but most of all he couldn’t stop thinking about the beautiful woman down the hall. He threw off the light blanket and got up, pacing over to the glass doors that overlooked the small apartment complex courtyard. He stood there, shirtless and in his boxers, and thought about everything that happened that day. He wasn’t supposed to be there, or anywhere for that matter. But he was, because of Paige. He’d been there that night to answer Jessie’s call and read her favorite story because of Paige. Garrett didn’t know if he believed in God or not. For him, spirituality had always been a struggle. He had vague memories of his mother, who died from kidney disease when he was only five, but his father talked about her a lot and Garrett grew up feeling like he knew her. His dad obviously loved her, and he told Garrett more than once that she’d “saved his life.” When they met, he’d been addicted to heroin. Garrett’s mother had stuck by him while he got clean and he told Garrett that she prayed for him every day. She was a religious woman, which Garrett had a hard time reconciling with the fact that she was an old lady to an enforcer in an MC too. But although his dad said she left the church when they got together, she never stopped believing and she never stopped praying. In Garrett’s mind, it hadn’t done her any good. She was dead and then fifteen years later, the love of her life was dead, and their son’s soul was destined, if not for hell, then for a much darker place.
But despite his struggles with God, Garrett had a feeling unlike any he’d ever had before—that someone, or something, had caused him to show up in time to save Paige, and for her to save him in return. He wasn’t sure what to do with that. Would he find and kill this Ewell guy and then go on with his own plans to kill himself? It wasn’t like anything would be different in his life.
“Hey.” The sound of her voice startled him. He shivered as he turned around. She was wearing an old t-shirt he’d given her to sleep in. It came down almost to her ankles and the short sleeves were three-quarters on her. She looked hot and his body took notice, and that’s when he realized that he was almost naked.
“Hey. I’m sorry.” He inched toward the sofa and picked up the blanket. “Did I wake you?”
She smiled as he slid the blanket up over his chest and held it tightly in his arms. “No. I think I slept too long earlier.” She took a step toward him. “I like your tattoo.” Garrett looked down at his chest like he’d never seen the tattoos before. On one side he had an American flag with an eagle standing in front of it with an olive branch in its mouth. Strangely enough, peace was the only thing Garrett ever really hoped for. If he couldn’t have it in his soul, he wished for it for the rest of the world. On the other side of his chest were two tiny little footprints, Jessie’s. Between them was a dark, red rose with a pink ribbon wrapped around the stem, and her name was written in black and outlined in red below it.
“Thanks. Did you…um…did you need something?”
“I was just going to get something to drink, if you don’t mind.”
“No, of course. Let me get it for you.”
“I can get it. Sit down. Do you want something?”
“Nah…you know what, maybe I’ll make some hot chocolate.” He started to get back up.
“I’ll do it,” she said in a tone that didn’t leave room for argument. He sat back down and let her go. Damn, she looked good in that t-shirt. He tucked the blanket down tighter into his lap and leaned back into the couch. He closed his eyes while he waited and allowed himself a few minutes of fantasy about what he’d do if he ever got the chance to slide that t-shirt off of her. He was so into it that he didn’t hear her come back into the room. She cleared her throat, and he gave a start again and sat up straight. Embarrassed by his thoughts, he reached for his t-shirt. “Are you cold?”
“No, not really.” Before he could grab the shirt, she handed him the mug of hot chocolate with a mound of whipped cream on top.
“You don’t have to put your shirt on for me.” She sat down on the couch too, too close for comfort. She took a sip of her steaming cocoa and then said, “I kind of like you like this,” with a wink.
He sipped his own chocolate and then asked, “Like what, exactly?”
She didn’t answer him. Instead, she reached her hand toward him. Garrett almost recoiled just because he wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle her touching him, without touching her back. He forced himself to stay put while she ran her thumb seductively across his top lip. “Whipped cream,” she said.
“Oh, thanks…you know that’s not how you get whipped cream off your lips though, right?”
“Really? How would you suggest it be done?” she asked. Garrett wasn’t sure where his sudden nerve came from, but he had to kiss her. He leaned toward her and let his tongue come out. He slid it across her upper lip and she sighed and closed her eyes. “Did you get it?” she whispered.
He smiled. “There wasn’t any there.” His mouth came crashing down on hers then and he finally kissed her. His lips tingled when they met hers and she parted her lips willingly to let his tongue into her mouth. She tasted like chocolate and whipped cream and if there was a heaven, like that too, he thought.
His hands fell down around her waist and he held onto her while they kissed, letting them run slowly up and down her sides and back, stopping short of touching her beautiful breasts. He started to pull out of the kiss at one point and suddenly her arms were around his neck, pulling him back down. She lapped hungrily at his lips and tongue and then nibbled all around his mouth before moving down to his neck and doing the same there. Garrett tipped his head back, and she climbed up into his lap to get better access. He hated the blanket with a passion for being there and coming between
him and whatever she was wearing underneath that t-shirt. While she kissed his neck his hands grew bolder, making their way underneath her shirt and touching her soft skin. His rough hands were a big contrast to the silk he was touching, and it only made him hunger for more. He pushed the shirt all the way up and when she leaned back to pull it off, he realized she wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. He didn’t even realize he was staring until she said,
“You can look, and touch.” He grinned and brought his hands up to her full breasts. He took one in each hand, pressing his palms into the hard peaks and moving them in circles. She whimpered and tossed her long, dark hair back over her bare shoulders. The sight of her neck was too tempting to pass up and he went in for a bite. He nibbled across her throat and up to her ear on one side. He ran his tongue across the lobe and around the outside of it before blowing his warm breath on it and watching and feeling her shudder. He was surprised but happy when she threw one of her legs over his thigh and let the other fall down in between them. He could feel how wet she was as her silky, soft, hot pussy ground into his thigh. His cock was so hard that it hurt, and it was like a pipe bomb exploded in his head when she reached down and touched him through his shorts. She ran her hand along the hard length of him and then wrapped her hand around it and started to move the hand up and down.
Garrett groaned, and he took her hips in his hands and stood her up in front of him. He wanted to make sure she got some pleasure before she pushed him to the brink. Her breasts were right at the level of his mouth, and he didn’t waste his vantage point. He leaned forward and ran his tongue all the way around one of them. Paige’s hands were in his hair, twisting the long strands around her fingers and tugging at it. He moved over and licked a circle around the other breast and then before his wet saliva dried, he blew on it. Paige gasped and pulled his head in tighter.