“Was feeling the need for some purple in my life,” she mumbled, avoiding my gaze as she flipped the longest layers of her short hair, dyed a pretty lavender, out of her eyes. Vonnie held a lot of my painful secrets just like I knew hers and had never once, not even by nuance, spilled any of them but held them as closely as I held hers. “But I can’t help much with your fat ass blocking the door. Move it or I’ll just drop the box where I stand.”
I grabbed a corner of the cardboard and stepped back to allow her to enter. Unlike Diane, Vonnie wasn’t a hugger but I did get a shoulder bump as she passed by which by her standards was a huge display of affection.
After Vonnie cleared the door, I saw Diana’s friend Abe standing behind a dolly stacked with more boxes. With military bearing in spite of his bum leg, Abe lifted his chin towards me in greeting before pushing the dolly through the doorway. The entire maneuver was done in typical Abe fashion—which meant, he didn’t speak out loud. But the fact he’d thought to bring a dolly and was helping told volumes about his care and concern for my new endeavor.
Behind Abe, I spied the black, shiny tresses of another one of my foster-sisters.
“Tonya!” At one point, the girl had been my worst enemy but since we both loved Diane, and Diane demanded peace in her house, we’d found a way to bury the hatchet. She’d moved out even before Vonnie and I, although she was a full year younger. “Thank you for coming!”
“I would’ve worn a sign, you know,” she started with a giggle. “About schlepping shit for people I consider dumber than horse-turds as evidenced by giving up a sweet room at Von’s place. But, hey! I’m beyond all that.”
“Maizie will be over later when she gets off work.” Diane’s voice, though soft, cut through the chatter as the others wandered through my new place. “Beta and Coco can’t make it, but we should be able to unload all but the furniture before they get here, don’t you think?”
I’d just parted my lips to reply, when I felt a warm fingers tap my shoulder and heard the light-accented voice of my handy-man. The one I’d forgotten in the flurry of greetings. “I only have the sockets in the bedroom and bathroom to complete, Miss Phoebe Marquette.”
A ripple of goose-bumps moved over me at both the sound of his voice and the feel of his breath as he spoke right next to my ear. So much so, I closed my eyes in order to savor both as I willed myself not to lean back into him.
Someone cleared their throat as another person snorted and I quickly controlled my reaction by opening my eyes.
The sound brought me back to reality only to find five sets of eyes zeroed in on the manly fingers still resting on my shoulder before, as one connected group, they slid to all the masculine beauty before them. Every female face held a look of stunned awe edged in wonderment as they perused the man standing behind me close enough I felt the heat of his body.
“I’m sorry,” I started, while turning to face him. I’d been right about his nearness when I found he was less than an arm length away, his body filling my entire vision. Realizing I needed to make introductions between my ‘family’ and the man I’d fantasized over for the last hour, I quickly performed the social nicety. As I did so, I soon became aware Ryker’s gaze always swiftly came back to me after he performed a sharp head-nod and hand-shake with each and every one, almost as if I was his harbor in the middle of an unsettled ocean.
What was that about?
“As I said, I only have the sockets in the bedroom and bathroom to complete,” he muttered after the intros were done and he’d turned back to me, again standing a little closer than was socially acceptable. “I will do this quickly so you can move in.”
“Ryker…” I started, but didn’t know what it was I needed to say in order to complete my sentence.
His fingers, the ones I’d taken so much notice of when he worked, hit my lips albeit pressing softly. “Estese callada, por favor,” he whispered, our eyes colliding so fast and deeply, my tummy took flight and my knees wobbled.
“What does that mean?” I asked, my lips buzzing against his touch as I stared up at him. Truthfully, I’d only spoken in an effort to break whatever spell held me captive.
Because we’d known each other, what? A hour maybe?
Why did I feel such a connection to the man? Sure he was hot and seemed sweet, but I’d met a lot of hot guys—ones who didn’t make me want to shred my freaking checklist and run off screaming into the horizon, eager to practice conceiving their babies.
But with Ryker, I did!
“Be quiet, please,” he explained with a grin, his face only inches from mine. From the silence in the room behind us, I pretty much figured my people were stuck like statues watching the latest reality moment of, ‘Phoebe and Her Handy-Man’.
All my girlie parts stood up as soon as his hand uncovered my mouth and he again stared into my eyes. Probably because he did both moves in slow motion, as if very deliberately.
“I will finish up quickly, but you will need to sign the work order for both the doors and the oh-so secret sockets. After signing, you will need to give them to mi tia, Angelina Verde, in the office as soon as possible. Comprende?” He glanced behind me at the unmoving group, causing me to twist and look as well. The fact they remained crowded together and remained staring at the two of us in open-mouth shock meant there’d be questions later. Maybe questions I didn’t want or didn’t know how to answer.
When he turned back to me, his mouth held another a half-grin and his amazing eyes were dancing. “Comprende means ‘do you understand’,” he explained again.
I knew what it meant. In fact, I’d be willing to bet everyone in the free world knew what it meant. It was the other stuff, the part about the work order sheets, I’d kinda missed since I’d been in some kind of a heated, sexual trance because he’d touch my mouth.
With his fingers.
As he’d stood close to me.
Close enough I felt his heat and could smell the spice of his cologne.
I blinked then shook my head to try and drive away the Ryker-induced sex fog. But before I had a chance to reply, Abe butted in.
“She understands, so all you gotta do is get back to work, fill out the damn sheets and our Phoebe will take it from there.” I swung my head to look at Abe, wondering why he was talking so loud and abruptly to a man he’d just met. It was then Abe planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest, his posture and even his face announcing he wasn’t happy, but I didn’t know why.
Or why Ryker straightened to his full height and after shooting me a look full of regret, he turned and went down the short hall toward my bedroom and bath.
I glanced around at the girls but they appeared as confused as I felt. Diane was the only one who seemed okay with Abe’s behavior.
At least, that was what I read in the small smile she shot Abe’s way. One he received with a sharp chin-lift before he turned to the kitchen and began unloading the dolly.
Chapter Two
As Ryker swung by the office to drop off the copies of the morning’s work-orders, Angelina covered the mouthpiece of the phone she was yakking into and announced, “Max called. Twice. Wants to confirm your meeting.”
Fuck! He’d been trying to duck Max for weeks but recently his oldest brother had pulled out the big guns and gotten their mom involved to the point she begged Ryker to at least meet with him and Cruz.
“Says he tried your cell but it keeps going to voicemail. I told him that was because we don’t allow no cellphones in play when you’re working.”
Ryker waited, knowing his aunt still had more to say and wouldn’t appreciate any interruption in her recantation of Max’s phone call.
“Can you believe that asshole told me I was living in the dark ages? What a dick! As if I and your tio made up the stupid rule in the first place. No! We only enforce the rules, not make them which is exactly what I told your stupid brother. But do you think he believed me?”
The question was not meant to be answered, so Ryker held his to
ngue. He knew Max and he knew Angelina, who were both stubborn to a fault and liked to have their own way although neither would admit to having such failings.
“No!” She barked so loudly, Ryker jumped. “He didn’t. So he told me to tell you to be at BI by one o’clock. Then he called back just to see if I’d given you his message as if I’m your damn employee instead of vice-versa!”
Her eyes narrowed and she pointed a crimson-tipped finger his way. “Since he said tu mama knew and approved of the meeting with your hermanos, I have no choice but to let you leave early. But don’t make a habit of it, si?”
“Yes,” Ryker replied with an emphatic nod. “I mean, I won’t. Make a habit of it.”
“Bueno.” Angelina turned back to the phone, but then, as if to make up for her attitude, spoke again. “Go ahead and take your lunch now since Max probably won’t feed you even though one o’clock in the afternoon is still considered a part of the lunch hour in most parts of the world.”
“Gracias, tia,” Ryker offered as he sidestepped toward the door, hoping to get away before Angelina found anything else to say. He loved her and she was a part of his family since she was his mom’s youngest sister, but to tell the truth, the woman kinda scared him.
Once outside, he moved to the farthest edge of the building, reaching into his pocket for his keys. While on-property, he drove the complex’s van. But in his downtime, he drove a Harley Davidson, Fat Boy. True, it was five years old and ate up most of his salary between the monthly payments, insurance and maintenance.
However, none of that mattered when he had the rumbling beast between his thighs and the wind in his hair. It wasn’t until he bought the bike that he’d felt truly free; free from the bars and rules and lights which had continually burned for seven long-assed years. Free from scrutiny of correctional officers he didn’t respect and the other prisoners who thought he’d be an easy mark until he taught them otherwise.
Free to just…be.
To say his family didn’t approve of his choice of rides was an understatement. And he’d heard all their arguments, although he’d never argued back. Nor did he trade the bike in for a car. He’d just gone about his business which he’d learned was the best way to silence the critics.
He straddled his motorcycle, but decided to get Max off Angelina’s ass before hitting the ignition switch. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his late model flip-phone and scrolled until he found the contact marked Black Ice Investigations, the business his two older brothers started while he was incarcerated. They had started small, using the extra bedroom at Max’s rented condo but as their business grew, they’d had to look for larger, more suitable office space. As Cruz said, “Someplace you ain’t fucking ashamed to meet with clients.”
Though they’d never advertised, his brother’s customers had gone from mom-and-pop bodegas and mercados in need of security systems, to the more moneyed citizens of Grantham wanting to protect both their businesses and homes. It wasn’t long though before Black Ice began receiving calls from out of state, from people who’s faces and names graced the pages of celebrity or money magazines asking BI for not only security systems but bodyguards and other security staff to protect not only their homes but them. To the point, BI now had more than twenty full-time employees and an unknown amount of contracted ones. Max bragged it all was achieved through nothing but hard work and the beauty of word-of-mouth recommendations for jobs well done.
Ryker didn’t know if it was true or not. In fact, he’d never been to the offices before, preferring to let his brothers do their thing and hoping they’d let him do his. Which at the moment was working for his aunt and uncle while trying to stay under the radar. He was working the system his parole officer laid out for him and basically learning how to live in the real world again. And that learning curve was fucking steep.
Parking his bike, he allowed his eyes to rake over the converted warehouse located in the industrial section of Grantham, just south of the train tracks and only a block away from the city’s only topless bar (Fuego’s), tattoo parlor (Human Hieroglyphix) and sex shop (Bewitchments). As far as curb appeal went, the building didn’t look like much except for the discreet sign to the right of the door and above a keypad and intercom box.
The sooner I get inside, the sooner I can leave, Ryker thought on a sigh.
He was buzzed in and found himself in a long hallway, carpeted in expensive-looking grey pile still holding the marks of an earnest vacuum cleaner. The paler walls were dotted here and there with black and white scenic photos of the different mountain ranges of Colorado, all matted thickly and encased in wide black frames. It was so quiet and the carpeting so plush, Ryker could only hear the creak of his leather jacket as he walked the length of the hall.
Coming to the end, there was a sleek black desk set in an alcove to his right with an elevator to his left, the doors of which were also painted a shiny, intimidating black. But unlike other elevators, this one had no call button. Since the desk was unmanned, Ryker didn’t know the next step. He heard an audible click then radio static before Cruz’s voice, sounding tinny through unseen speakers, echoed in the alcove.
“Get in the elevator, bro, and press ‘A’.” Short and to the point was Cruz’s style and had been since they were kids. “I’ll meet you there.”
Figuring his movements were being monitored, Ryker went to stand in front of the lift’s doors which opened with only the tiniest of ‘whooshes’ and closed as soon as he’d hit the ‘A’ as instructed. There was no noise, no musak except for the slight sensation of going upward. When the doors silently opened again, Cruz was waiting as promised wearing an ear-to-ear grin while reaching to shake Ryker’s hand. Nonplussed by the more business-like handshake instead of the typical shoulder clasp in greeting, Ryker waited, willing to follow his brother’s lead.
“Wished we’d known earlier we needed to involve Ma in order to get you here. We could’ve settled this months ago.”
Ryker didn’t reply. Since he’d been released, either Max or Cruz had been on his ass to meet with them but he’d always managed to beg off or avoid it. That was until they’d enlisted the help of the matriarch and ruler of their family. With all Ryker had put her through, there was no way he would fob her off or tell her no if he could possibly help it.
As Cruz led him down another carpeted hallway, Ryker noticed it had the same décor and color scheme as downstairs, but had several doors leading off of it. Pushing through a pair of frosted glass doors, Ryker found himself in the middle of a huge, cavernous empty space.
Lots of room to grow even bigger, Ryker thought, controlling the sneer he ached to let loose. He’d been waiting for one or the other of his older brothers to do this since he’d come home; to rub his nose in how he was a loser, an ex-con while they’d created a successful business. Although why they felt the need to force him to acknowledge their accomplishments in a face-to-face setting was just goddamn wrong.
Traversing the acre of more gray carpet, Ryker saw the edges of the room were dotted with offices, each door painted the same shiny black as the elevator and each bearing a small nameplate. Cruz steered him toward the one marked ‘Max Santiago-Adams, CEO’. And after re-reading it three times, Ryker’s stomach clenched hard as he took it in, took all of it in.
There was no way in hell he’d ever be able to compete with this level of green—shit, not even with the bad-ass style of clothes his brothers now wore oh-so casually. Where Ryker came straight from the apartment complex in his jeans, t-shirt and second-hand leather jacket, Cruz wore black business trousers and a black v-necked sweater over a pristine white tee tucked behind a wicked silver belt buckle. And while he wore boots, Cruz’s weren’t scuffed or dusty like Ryker’s. In fact, it almost looked like Cruz polished the damn things!
Ryker opened his mouth to give some smart-assed remark regarding said boots, when Max bellowed from inside. “Get your culo in here, Ry.”
Cruz did a game-show-host wave towards the door
and Ryker stepped through only to find Max standing behind a huge, black desk adorned with nothing more than a multi-lined phone, a couple of cellphones and a laptop. His eldest brother was also clad in head-to-toe black, but he wore a black button-down shirt paired with a black-on-black patterned vest.
Like Cruz, Max offered a handshake and Ryker again wondered why when Max’s typical greeting for his younger brother was a handclasp to the back of his neck.
“Glad you could finally make it.” Max’s voice matched his appearance in that it was deep and held a growl. He was a big man: tall, broad and muscled. It also matched his personality: arrogant, self-assured and prepared for whatever life threw at him. Maybe it was because of his voice or his physical presence, but whatever it was, Ryker found himself playing defense even before the game started.
“It’s not like I’m not busy, Max.” While not said with a squeak or without volume, Ryker thought his voice sounded puny and he swallowed deeply before continuing. “I have work to do for tio Jose—“
Cruz’s grunt of derision cut him off as his middle-brother dropped his trouser covered butt into one of the fancy-assed black and grey striped chairs in front of Max’s desk and crossed an ankle over his knee. “Yeah, right. Work a fuckin’ monkey could do.”
Rubbing his nose in what little he had compared to their success was one thing, but to berate Ryker for the only job he’d been able to get on the outside was just fucking mean! “I do maintenance work for them. It’s a good job, even my P.O. told me I was lucky to have it. So if you’re both done making fun of me, I’ll just get back to it.” Ryker turned on his heel and took a step towards the door only barely hearing Cruz’s softly muttered curse word and Max’s indrawn breath over the fiery heat of his anger.
“Ry, wait!” Max’s bellow was loud, shooting around the large office, going through Ryker and out into the empty cavern. “Stop!”
Phoebe: Book One of Broken Girls Series Page 2