“We got ya,” Chaos told Sniper.
Sniper wrapped his fingers securely around the bar as the other two men lifted each side with ease.
“You ready, man?” Chaos asked as his comrade prepared for them to let go.
“Yeah.”
Chaos signaled R.I.P., and they let go of their respective sides. The weight nearly crushed Sniper’s chest.
As the weight bore down on his chest, forcing air from his lungs, Sniper struggled as best he could. “Hey, hey, what the hell is going on? A little help here?”
“Enough. Help the man out.” G stood with his back to the door.
Sniper was so busy trying to get the weights off of his chest, he didn’t hear G come in.
“Awww, G, you’re no fun,” R.I.P. said. He and Chaos grabbed the weights and eased the bar from Sniper’s chest just enough to give him room to breathe.
G hovered over Sniper. “I think you have something to tell me.”
“Look, G, I was trying to get to her, but—”
“Wrong answer.” G signaled his partners, and again they released the weights.
“Ahhh! Ahhh! Man, I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe.”
“You sure are doing a lot of screaming for a man who can’t breathe.” G’s voice stayed calm. He had slipped into a semi-Reaper mode. He’d had to let the Reaper rear its head just a little to counter his anger; otherwise, he couldn’t be held responsible for what he did. If the Reaper felt justified, there’d be no stopping the bloodbath. G was yet to feel enough justification, though, to allow that to happen. He still needed answers.
“Come on, G. Give me a chance to explain.”
Again the other two men lifted the excess weight from the chest of their comrade. They didn’t take this personally; they’d have expected just as much, if they’d been Dasia’s watcher the night she was attacked.
“Now sing, little birdie.”
Between coughs and gasps for breath, Sniper managed to tell G what he remembered about last night. He’d followed some guy to the rear of the apartment building, and that’s when the guy shot him with a tranquilizer dart. The man in question tied him up and threw him in the trunk of his own vehicle.
Sniper gave them as much information as he could, which included a general description of the guy.
G fought an internal battle with the Reaper. The killer in him wanted to end this now. “Anything else you want to tell me?”
“That’s all I know, man. I’m sorry, G. I failed. I know I failed you, and I’m sorry.”
“Stop your whining.”
G knew they’d scared the young buck. He hadn’t been at the Agency long when he snapped and was forced to resign. He was good at what he did, so G took him in. Whenever they needed an additional shooter, Sniper was always first on the list.
G turned to the others. “Let him up.” Then he proceeded to walk out of the room.
Sniper gasped for air as his arms were finally able to relax.
“Consider yourself lucky,” Chaos told him. “I’ve seen him kill one of his own for less. I’d advise you to steer clear of him for a while.” Then he followed G out of the door.
“You know what this means, don’t you?” G said, continuing his stride out of the back door. What Sniper had just told them was concerning. As the lock on the metal door engaged, he lit a cigar.
“I’m not following you, G.”
“Think about it, man. This guy lures Sniper to the rear of the building, poisons him, and then dumps him in his own car.”
“Yeah, so?”
“We’re not dealing with a cat burglar or just some pervert who randomly selected Dasia. This guy’s no amateur, and he knows Dasia is being watched.” G slid into the driver’s seat of the Lexus and started the car. He rolled down the window to finish his conversation with Chaos.
“So now what?”
“I think Dasia will be pretty safe at the house. I’ll personally escort her where she needs to go for a while. Between R.I.P. and me, we’ll make sure she’s safe. You just keep up on the legalities and keep me posted on what you find.”
“What about Sniper?” Chaos was more than sure Sniper was wondering if he still had a job.
“Right now I think it’s best he keep his distance. He’s good at what he does; this guy just took advantage of a weakness. We’ll have to train him better.” G took another drag on his cigar and expelled the smoke in Chaos’ direction.
Chaos held his ground, not letting the smoke deter him.
“I’ll work on that, once we’ve figured all of this out. You heading back to the house?”
“Yeah. I need to check on Dasia. We’ll probably be there the rest of the weekend.”
“I’ll stop by sometime tomorrow to relieve R.I.P.” Chaos glanced up as R.I.P. stepped out of the back door of the gym.
“Thanks again, man. And thanks for last night.”
“That’s what friends are for. Now go home to your woman.”
G rolled up the window and pulled from the parking lot, and Chaos watched as his friend drove off into the night, and in that moment, he wished he had someone to go home to.
Part II: The End Is Near
Chapter 20
Jeremiah stood in front of the double doors of the castle-like house. Dasia thought she could hide from him. With a few phone calls to the right places, he’d tracked her down a month after the wedding. No matter what she thought, she belonged to him. He looked around at the gardeners working diligently to beautify the rows of rose bushes lining the walkway. He’d passed just as many on his trip up the winding driveway from the main street. From the street, the house had appeared massive, but now that he stood at its doors, the sheer sight of it made him feel insignificant.
Aside from that part of his personality that constantly reminded him that she was his, no matter what, he didn’t even know why he was here. By the looks of things, Dasia had definitely gotten on with her life. He felt bad about what he’d done to her, but at the time, he really did think he was in love with her best friend. Since then, things had gone terribly wrong, and now he realized it really was Dasia he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Jeremiah just hoped he hadn’t hurt her too badly. He never meant for things to happen the way they did. There was really no excuse for what he’d done to her. He’d embarrassed her, and she probably never wanted to see him again. Still, he found himself here, standing at a strange doorstep, hoping she’d take him back.
Building up his nerve, Jeremiah finally rang the doorbell. He didn’t know what to expect, but it surely wasn’t the thin Caucasian man standing before him. The man was neatly dressed, and by the looks of his salt-and-pepper hair and the fine lines around his eyes, Jeremiah estimated the man to be in his middle to late fifties. He’d never expected a butler, but with the size of the house and the numerous gardeners, maybe he should have.
“May I help you, sir?”
“Uh, yeah.” Jeremiah nervously shuffled his feet as he spoke. “I’m looking for Ms. Dasia Warrington.”
Just as Jeremiah finished Dasia’s name, a tall, brown-skinned muscular man with gray eyes stepped around the open door.
“Thanks, Marcus. I can handle this.”
“Very good, sir.” The butler turned and reentered the house, leaving the two men alone at the front door.
“Can I tell her who’s here to see her?”
“I’d actually like to surprise her,” Jeremiah replied.
Jeremiah got the feeling the man blocking his entry was Dasia’s new man. If his assumption was correct, the minute he told him his name, he’d be turned away. Jeremiah didn’t want to take that chance. He’d come a long way to see Dasia, and he only wanted the chance to make things right between them.
“I think she’s had enough surprises for a while.”
Over the past few months G had become overly protective of Dasia. He was still very much concerned about her health. These eleven months with her had really changed his life. Though
it had been almost five months since her blackout and three months since she’d been attacked in her apartment, G was still trying to keep her life as stress-free as possible. She’d even agreed to shorten her hours at work and the community center. He was not about to let some stranger into his house to disrupt his happy home.
“I don’t want any trouble.” Jeremiah was trying his best to remain respectful. He had no right to be intruding on Dasia’s life, and he understood the man’s hesitation. “I just want a few minutes of her time. I—I want to apologize for wronging her.”
“So you must be Jeremiah.” G’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at the pudgy little man. From what was left of his physique, he could tell this guy was once a football player. However, like many of his friends, once they stopped playing and entered the real world, the muscles turned to mush.
G, on the other hand, had dedicated himself to remaining in excellent physical condition. Ridiculed for being overweight as a child, he made sure to eat right and exercise so that he’d never return to the gut-heavy, breast-having, little boy he once was.
“I take it, Dasia has mentioned me.” Jeremiah lowered his eyes, unable to face the anger in the eyes of the man who stood between him and his one true love.
“Let’s just say, if I hadn’t found her on that balcony on her wedding day, you might be visiting her grave instead of her home.”
G watched Jeremiah’s reaction to the realization that he’d hurt Dasia to the point where her fate that night had been uncertain, be it by accident or intent. He was glad Jeremiah now understood his actions really did have an effect on others. G was determined to make sure that if Jeremiah saw Dasia, he’d beg for her forgiveness. What he’d done to her was despicable, and he deserved to suffer as much as she did, if not more. All she’d ever done was love him unconditionally, and he’d repaid her by continuously breaking her heart.
The words had stung Jeremiah. He’d never meant to cause Dasia that kind of pain. “I had no idea.”
“I’m sure you didn’t. You’ve got five minutes.” G stepped aside, allowing Jeremiah to enter his home. “Marcus!”
The thin man appeared from a small entryway to their right. “Yes, Mr. Guatreaux?”
“Show Mr. Delpriore to the study.”
Jeremiah followed the butler’s lead to a room off to their left. He glanced over his shoulder one last time to see G climbing the stairs. He hoped Dasia would see him, although he couldn’t blame her if she refused.
G found Dasia in the sitting room adjacent to the master bedroom. When she wasn’t out shopping, or at the community center, or working, this was where he’d find her. She looked like an angel draped over the black leather recliner, her legs outstretched and her arms tucked under each side. He knew she did that when she was sleeping and got cold, but her mind wouldn’t wake long enough to let her pull the blanket up over her shoulders. He really hated to wake her; she seemed so peaceful. He thought for a second to just tell Jeremiah she was asleep, but Dasia needed closure, and Jeremiah was giving her the perfect opportunity to get it.
G had hoped her moving into his house would allow her to become more comfortable around him. It had helped some, but she still kept her heart under lock and key. Maybe confronting Jeremiah about what he’d done to her would finally release the pent-up hurt and anger, and she could finally be open to loving again.
Kneeling down beside her, G called softly in her ear, “Dasia. Dasia, wake up.”
A low groan escaped from her throat as her eyes slowly fluttered open. It took a moment, but her eyes finally focused on G.
“Hey, baby.” Dasia raised a hand to his chin, drawing him closer, and planted a kiss on his lips.
G didn’t want to let her go. He wanted to keep kissing her, holding her, pouring his love over and through her, but she had a visitor she needed to tend to. He reluctantly ended the kiss and pulled her closer so her cheek rested on his chest.
G’s anger grew with each moment he held her, knowing right below them Jeremiah waited. He realized this meeting could very well make or break his relationship with Dasia. If it went badly, he’d be the one to be there to help her pick up the pieces. If it went well, she might finally consider spending the rest of her life as Mrs. Grimarious Guatreaux.
“Dasia, you’ve got a visitor.”
It took her a moment to realize what G said. She stretched, forcing her muscles from their state of relaxation to their full awareness. Her eyes momentarily focused on the television before she turned back to him. A raspy, “Who is it?” was all she could manage.
“Promise you won’t get angry?”
“Why would I get angry?”
“Jeremiah.”
More than speechless, Dasia’s eyes grew wide. She hadn’t heard from Jeremiah or her best friend since she’d calmly walked away from her own wedding. She began to ball her fists as the emotions seeped from behind the wall she’d erected around her heart. Only G wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close made the feelings dissipate.
“I can send him away if you like.” G very much wanted to do just that, but this was Dasia’s decision.
Dasia relaxed against his chest, feeling right at home in his arms. “No. I think we both know I need to do this.”
“You sure you’re up to it?” Jeremiah being there was only going to raise her blood pressure.
“Yeah,” she calmly said, “I’m sure.” Dasia stood and composed herself. She really was ready to confront Jeremiah. She had forgiven him for being a fool. Still, she only felt it fair that she tell him how much he’d really hurt her.
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Dasia went to G and wrapped her arms around his waist. “No. I need to do this on my own. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Yes.” G squeezed her, giving her the support and encouragement she so desperately needed. “Come on. He’s in the study.” G led her out of the room.
Dasia stood with G in front of the door to the study. He watched her hesitate.
“You can do this. You’ve made it this far without him, and if you need me, I’ll be right in the other room.”
“Thanks.”
G gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and then left her to confront Jeremiah.
Taking a number of deep breaths, Dasia held her head high, and with all of the determination in the world, she turned the handle and entered the study. Jeremiah had his back to her as he stared out of the window into the gardens.
When she finally captured a glimpse of his face, she realized he was just as she remembered him, though his shoulders slumped like he was carrying some invisible weight. She knew what the weight was, and she was glad he was suffering as much as she’d suffered.
Dasia smiled as she watched the pain in his eyes, looking like the world had been snatched from his grasp. “So where’s Mrs. Delpriore?” She suspected that Monica had gotten one taste of the real Jeremiah and bolted.
“I didn’t come here to talk about Monica.”
“I’m sure. Why are you here, Jeremiah?”
Jeremiah took one look at Dasia and couldn’t believe how beautiful she was. She’d gained some of her weight back, and her eyes were bright. He saw love in them, the same love he used to see when she was with him. Looking into her eyes now, he knew she’d meant what she’d said the day she calmly walked away from him standing at the altar. She really didn’t care about him anymore.
Jeremiah tried to decide what to say. He’d come here prepared to grovel at her feet or do whatever she’d asked. What was the point now? She was in love with her new man. He was sure there was nothing he could do or say that would make her take him back.
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not treating you right. I’m sorry for the cheating, for the lying, for everything. But, most of all, I’m sorry for all of the hurt and pain I caused you for all of those years.”
“Sorry? I know your ass is sorry.” Dasia couldn’t contain her anger any longer. “You’ve been sorry si
nce the first day I met you. But I overlooked all of that because I thought eventually you’d see what you meant to me. Apparently I was wrong. It’s nice that you’ve come here to say you’re sorry, but ‘sorry’ doesn’t fix it now, does it? You know, you have no idea of the pain you’ve put me through. I loved you, I trusted you, I gave everything I had to you, and what did you do—you walked all over me.”
“I—I don’t know what to say.” Jeremiah lowered his eyes and then his head.
“There’s nothing you can say.”
G knocked on the door and stuck his head in. He’d been listening on the other side. As Dasia’s voice escalated, so did his concern about her blood pressure. He’d meant what he said about Jeremiah only having five minutes, so it was time for him to get the hell out of his house.
“Dasia, I think it’s time for your guest to go.” G stared at Jeremiah, showing his unhappiness with him getting Dasia worked up. “We’ve got reservations at eight, and you still need to dress, and we have to drop the baby off at my sister’s.”
At the mention of a baby, Jeremiah turned to face Dasia again. He started to say something, but G hovering over him made him reconsider. “I guess I’ll be going then.”
“I think it’s best.” G crossed his arms over his massive chest, waiting for Jeremiah to leave. “Marcus will escort you out.”
Jeremiah turned to Dasia one last time. “I wish you happiness, and I really am sorry.”
“Good-bye, Jeremiah.” Dasia nuzzled under G’s arms.
Jeremiah left the Guatreaux’s house a defeated man, but he swore this wasn’t over. Everybody had something to hide, and Mr. Guatreaux was no exception. He’d skimmed the surface of information about Grimarious Guatreaux in his initial search for Dasia. But Jeremiah suspected there was much more to Mr. Guatreaux. He decided to find out what it was and use all of the information to his advantage. He vowed Dasia would come running back to him, if it was the last thing she did.
Chapter 21
Loving Dasia Page 12