by Aly Martinez
"None. I stopped to drop off the rental and picked up food too. I hope you like Japanese."
"Oh please tell me you got sushi and hibachi. I haven’t had Japanese since I moved from Florida."
"Well, I am absolutely on point tonight then. I’m pretty sure I got enough food to feed the entire building." He leans in, and I suck his bottom lip into my mouth, grazing it with my teeth as I release it. "Or maybe just enough to feed you." He smiles.
"Smart man." I laugh and head out of the room with Slate’s arm pulled tight around my shoulders.
It’s been an exhausting evening. Leo and Slate had a little security meeting while I hid in the bathtub with my Kindle, ignoring the outside world. I know I should be more involved with things like that. It is, after all, my life they are protecting, but I know myself. There are two speeds—dramatically obsessed and ignorantly blissful. For tonight, I chose the latter.
Leo’s face was none too happy when he summoned Slate into the security room. Call me crazy, but I trust both of them. I am completely okay with them only giving me the pertinent information right now.
Slate and I are in bed after some absolutely amazing sex when I decide to finally ask him the one question I’ve been dying to know about.
"Will you tell me about your mom?" I whisper, kissing the underside of his jaw.
"Well that took you long enough." He smiles, sliding down so we are at eye level, facing each other. We have most of our serious chats in bed, and apparently, this is Slate’s talking position. He places a hand on the curve of my waist and gives it a gentle squeeze.
"You don’t have to…"
"It’s okay, beautiful. I think it’d be good for you to know the real story. Google is filled with just as many lies as it is facts." He sucks in a deep breath, clears his throat, and begins to talk. "My mom was a housekeeper at a hotel. One night, she was called to change the linens on a bed, but when she got to the room, a man pulled her inside and raped her. He beat her then left her bloody and unconscious on the hotel floor."
I must have gone rigid because Slate immediately pulls me closer and tangles his legs with mine.
"She was thirty-seven and married with no kids at the time. The police and her husband were called to the scene. She was terrified and ashamed, so not only did she refuse medical care, but she also refused to cooperate with the police. Her husband was a piece of shit but seemed supportive at first. Well, until she popped up pregnant. The same day the doctor confirmed her pregnancy, he packed his bags and left. So two months after being raped and beaten, her husband walked out on her."
"Jesus." I sigh, and this time, I’m the one pulling him closer.
"Seven months later, I was born. She did the best she could. My mother never actually wanted to be a mom, but she loved me all the same. Because she never got any kind of help dealing with what happened to her, she lived a life of fear and solitude. Growing up, I didn’t know any difference. It wasn’t until I started school and I saw how vibrant the teachers were that I started to realize that something was wrong with her.
"When I was nine, her husband came back briefly. He wasn’t abusive, but he was still an asshole. He got drunk one night and decided to tell me the whole story about my mom, but as you can guess, it was his side of the story. The fictional one where she was cheating on him and my ‘father’ justly raped and beat her."
"What the fuck!" I suddenly sit up.
"Shhh." He drags me back down and into his side. "Unfortunately, my grandmother was forced to fill me in on the real story at only nine years old after I started asking questions. Not long after that, he was gone again, but the damage had been done. As you can imagine, I had a lot of issues dealing with my newfound knowledge of how I had come to exist. I started acting out and getting into trouble. Then, one day, after getting into a fight at school, my mom sat me down and told me that I wasn’t an accident, but that I was a gift sent to protect her." His voice catches and he clears his throat to cover the emotion. "Yeah. So anyway, you know the rest. I took the role of her protector very seriously for the rest of her life. When I got a little money, I spent it sending her to therapy and finally getting her the help she needed, even if it was twenty years too late. She never remarried or had more kids, but I think she was happy. She died two years ago after suffering a stroke in her sleep."
I don’t say anything for a few minutes as I try to absorb everything he just said. Sure, it’s a sad and tragic story, but it’s also filled with love and triumph. And it forces me to ask him the real question.
"Do you think you’re in love with me because of some ingrained need to protect women?" I ask quietly, unsure of whether I even want to know the answer.
He lets out a loud laugh. "Oh, Lord. Is that what you have playing in your head right now?"
"It’s a valid question, Slate."
"Validity doesn’t make it any less absurd." He laughs again but rolls me over so he is pinning me completely to the bed with his huge body. "I will admit that, when I first met you, I wanted to help you. That woman who ran into my apartment all those months ago was terrified, and I won’t lie. It immediately sparked some deep need to protect you. But that is absolutely not why I fell in love with you. I fell in love with you because you were smart and funny. You never once treated me like a commodity, even after you found out that I had money. But more than all of that, I fell in love with you because behind the fear was a strong, beautiful fighter too. Erica, I love you for your smart mouth, beautiful brain, and most importantly, because I’ve always wanted to role-play doctor/patient in bed."
I slap his back as he continues to laugh. "That was a good answer."
"It was, wasn’t it?" He suddenly becomes serious again. "Are you worried that you only love me because I make you feel safe?"
"No, I know exactly why I love you." I lift my arms and wave them around the room. "Clearly, it’s because you’re loaded."
"Clearly." He begins tickling me only to silence my laughter with his mouth.
Four weeks later…
"I’m going to the store. Do you need anything?"
"Erica, you don’t have to go to the store. I’d feel better if you just let me call for grocery delivery."
"No freaking way. I need to get out of here. I’m wearing my dog collar and everything," she smarts off, lifting her wrist to show the bracelet Leo gave her the day after we got here. It has a built in tracking device and emergency alert button that calls the police and notifies all ten of Leo’s men.
"It’s not a dog collar. It’s an emergency bracelet," Leo corrects from the kitchen while making a sandwich.
"Right. Yes, of course. How silly of me." She rolls her eyes but smiles up at me. "I’ll take Johnson with me just in case."
"Damn it. I hate not being able to go with you." I pull her against my chest. "Almost as much as I hate those fucking brown contacts."
"Nope. You know the rules. If she goes out, she wears the contacts," Leo pipes in from behind me, but I ignore him. Yeah, I know the rules, but that doesn’t mean I hate them any less. I’ve gotten used to seeing Erica’s amazing blue eyes every day.
"I just need some fresh air, okay? I’ll be back in less than an hour," she calls over her shoulder.
"I’ll walk you down." I toss an arm around her shoulders and head downstairs. "Johnson," I call to the larger of the two guards standing at the private entrance to the building. "You let any anyone so much as bump into her, I’ll kill you myself." He flashes me a shit-eating grin, revealing not one but two gold teeth. Where the hell Leo found these guys, I’ll never know. But so far, they seem to know what they are doing. "Make it fast." I grab both sides of Erica’s face and pull her in for a hard kiss.
"I love you," she says as she turns to walk away.
Johnson pushes the glass door open, but at the last second, I pull her in for another kiss.
I hate watching her leave, knowing that there is nothing I can do for her once she walks out those doors, but despite how much I would like to, I can’t keep her
locked up in my apartment for the rest of her life.
"Love you too, beautiful."
She smiles, dropping her sunglasses down on her face, and walks away.
As I exit the elevator, I run directly into Leo, who is waiting for me. He looks nervous and antsy, and it worries the shit out of me.
"What’s wrong?"
His face is pale and he doesn’t immediately respond. Quickly losing my patience with his lack of speech, I reach out to grab his shirt, but he grabs my wrist first.
"I just got a call. I think there is actually a way out of this mess." He runs a hand through his hair and laughs. "Oh my God, I think this might be almost over."
"What?" I breathe as the mere possibility makes my heart race.
"We need to talk, and quick—before she gets back." He moves over to the couch, where he sits down only to jump right back to his feet and start pacing.
"You’re making me nervous. Start fucking talking." I stand with my hands on my hips.
"They don’t want Erica. They want me."
"What?" I snap, taking a step forward.
"Just chill out and listen to me. The guy Erica and I testified against, Dom, was the reject of the Rodriguez family. He was a fucking idiot. Case in point: when he decided to pull a fast one on his entire family and merge with their enemy, Wilkes. Hell, the whole Rodriguez family would probably thank Erica for testifying against Dom after he killed his older brother. It’s Wilkes’s men who are really after us."
"Then why the hell are they coming after her? You’re the one who killed Darren Wilkes."
"Because they have no fucking idea who the hell I am—but they think she does."
"What the hell?"
"My true identity was a tightly guarded secret as an undercover agent. But the Wilkes family assumes Erica knows since I took her with me when I left. The night everything went down, I killed Darren Wilkes and his top two, but there was a third man who survived his wounds. He ended up in prison on numerous other charges, but he was still able to get word out that I—or, really, Marcus—took her on my way out. And it appeared to him that she trusted me. They decided she was in on it with me from the very beginning. So Wilkes’s brothers have been searching for us ever since. They know everything about Erica Hill and have been able to track her easier than they have me.
"I worked for Rodriguez when I was undercover, specifically Dom. And when he went down, they refused to cooperate and give Wilkes any of their security footage of me. Wilkes doesn’t even have a picture of me. They only have the description given to them by some of the guys who met me—thirty-something, long, brown hair, tattoos, brown eyes, and of Mexican decent." He breaks into a thick accent while speaking smooth Spanish.
"You’re white."
"Yeah, originally from Nebraska actually, but I tan up nice." He smiles. "The tattoos were fake too. But they don’t know any of that. The one time the youngest Wilkes found me with Erica, he shot me in the chest and walked right over me, clueless to the fact that I was the man they were really looking for."
"Wait. Why haven’t you just given them your name then? You could have gone off on your own and lead them away from her. You could have set her free years ago!" I roar.
"Maybe, but being alone made her even more vulnerable. They think she means something to me. Which she does—now. They would have tortured her just to draw me out. At least if we’re together, I could always give up myself if we got into trouble."
"Jesus Christ. So how the hell is this going to be over? Get to that part. I don’t want to hear the rest of this bullshit."
"So some serious shit has been going down, and it appears the last remaining Wilkes brother, Lucas, is fucking shit up for Rodriguez again. An official hit was just issued on his head. Lucas is the low man on the totem pole these days, but his ego is anything but. If Rodriguez manages to take him down, he will absorb all his men and we could finally be nobodies again. With Wilkes gone, we would be free of all of this once and for all."
"So, what? We just wait for Rodriguez to take out Wilkes?"
"Yep. And pray the cops don’t get to Wilkes before Rodriguez has a chance to do it."
"How long are we talking here?"
"An hour…or ten years. I have no clue. But what's important is, for the first time ever, there’s an end in sight. All we have to do is lay low and let the assholes extinguish each other."
"Do you really think this will work? I mean, won’t Wilkes’s men try to start something up on their own if he goes down?"
"Not unless they are fucking idiots. The Rodriguez family has only gotten bigger and more powerful over the years. Wilkes is the only one stupid enough to fuck with them. Once he is gone, all the small-time thugs and dealers will jump ship to where the money is."
"Rodriguez," I whisper.
"Yep," he confirms, finally stopping to face me. "We just have stay off Wilkes’s radar until it’s done."
"So are we telling Erica this?" I ask.
"Your call. But I don’t want to get her hopes up."
"I’ll tell her. She deserves to know."
"Shut up!" Erica squeals as I explain the situation to her.
Leo was right. Her hopes aren’t just up—they are bursting through the roof.
"It’s just a theory, beautiful. There are still a lot of factors that would have to happen to make it a reality."
"Slate, it could be over," she says as her eyes flood with tears. "OhmyGod, OhmyGod, Oh. My. God," she hurries out before jumping to her feet and running from the room. "Leo!" she shouts, rushing into his room.
"I see he told you." He laughs as she hurls herself into his arms.
"Seriously. This could really happen? Like really really happen?" she questions as he puts her down and takes a step away.
"It’s a possibility, babe. Don’t start applying for jobs yet, but it’s a definite possibly."
"I want some wine. No, champagne!" She turns to me as I lean against the doorjamb.
I can’t help but smile and enjoy her excitement. It’s rare to see this giddy side of Erica, but that only makes it more beautiful when it happens.
"I could do a beer," Leo says from behind her.
"Let’s do it." I pull her against my chest and head for the kitchen.
Three glasses of champagne later, Erica is still celebrating. She’s talking a mile a minute and just all-around having fun. My heart tightens when I realize that I could possibly spend the rest of my life with this amazing woman. I’m not talking the frightened woman who is always looking over her shoulder, but rather this light and carefree version I see before me now.
"Let’s go to bed," she says, straddling my lap.
I glance up at Leo, who is smiling, but he looks away when she starts kissing up my neck.
"Hey. Why don’t you go out? Hit the city. I can hold down the fort tonight," I say to him as Erica’s hands slide under my shirt. She begins to drunkenly giggle as I tease the edge of her shirt as well.
Leo shakes his head at her but finally nods to me. "Yeah. I think I’ll do that. I’ll take one of the boys with me. Cool?"
"Works for me." I stand, lifting Erica right along with me. She immediately locks her legs around my hips but turns to look at Leo.
"You’ll be careful, right?"
"Of course, babe. Now go to bed. Your head is going to be killing you in the morning."
"Have a good night. Wear a condom. Do I need to give you the STD talk I used to give the kids who came into the hospital?" She laughs, making Leo groan and roll his eyes.
He pretends to be annoyed, but I know he’s laughing on the inside. "I think I’m good, Doc." Without another glance, he heads out. "Be good, ladies and gentlemen."
Before the door even clicks behind him, Erica is attacking my mouth. Her hands are all over the place and she grinds against me.
"Fuck," I groan.
"That’s what I’m hoping for," she says, dragging her tongue up my neck until she reaches my ear.
I bark out a l
augh at her boldness but move as fast as I can to the bedroom. "Add champagne to the grocery list for tomorrow night. I’m suddenly quite fond of drunk Erica."
"Me too," she says, sliding from my hands the moment we reach our room.
She immediately drops to her knees in front of me, popping open my button on her descent. Just as quickly, she pulls my cock from my pants and sucks me deep into her mouth.
Strike that. I fucking love drunk Erica.
I pry my eyes open, immediately wishing I could close them again. My head is pounding and I’ve never needed water more in my life. But I’m not too hung over to stop to appreciate Slate’s naked ass as I crawl out of bed.
"Where you going?" he growls, clearing the sleep from his voice.
"Bathroom. Water. Ibuprofen," I croak out while holding my head.
I’m splashing water on my face when I hear shouting on the other side of the door. I fearlessly sling it open to find Leo yelling as Slate tries to pull the sheet around his waist.
"What the fuck were you thinking? God damn it!" he shouts, throwing a newspaper at Slate.
I pull on my bathrobe from off the back of the door and head over to figure out what the hell all the commotion is about. Then I pick up the paper off the bed.
"Oh my God," I breathe when I find a picture of Slate kissing me yesterday before I left for the grocery store. The headline reads: Slate Andrews caught with mystery woman. Could she be the reason behind his sudden departure from professional boxing?
"We have to go," Leo barks at me.
"We’ve been over this. I’m not leaving him," I respond, never tearing my eyes off the black-and-white image in front of me.
"Even dumbass Wilkes will be able to track down Slate Andrews. We have to leave," Leo growls while Slate remains surprisingly silent.
"Wait. Where are the rest of them?" I say, flipping through the paper. "There’s got to be more than just this."
"That’s the only one they published," Leo says, calming only momentarily.
"You can’t see my face. His hands are covering it. No harm, no foul." I nonchalantly drop it back to the bed.