He grinned down at her. “Chiquita, a man is always carrying a gun. But today, I’m also carrying my weapon. This isn’t the safest neighborhood in Southern California.”
Karla blushed as she remembered Ian telling her about the distinction military men made between their gun—or penis—and their weapon. Wanting to change the subject, she looked around at the residential neighborhood, but thought it looked like any other working-class neighborhood. Why did he expect trouble?
“It looks to me like a nice enough place to grow up.”
“Yeah, but some kids here have to grow up too fast.”
Her thoughts went to Teresa and what had happened to her. Of course, those things happened in wealthy homes, too. They walked a few blocks before she saw the bell tower of the brick church. Next to it was the school building, also brick, and a blacktopped playground surrounded by a chain-link fence. Teachers stood talking in a small group and children laughed and screamed as they played together. Karla remembered her own Lincoln Park grade school and the grassy playground with swings and monkey bars where she and her girlfriends had played. This one had similar equipment, but, oh, it must be hell for tender knees and bottoms to land on that hard surface. These kids had to get tough, fast.
As they continued on, she saw a gate with a padlock leading to the school yard.
“They have to keep the school locked at all times, to protect the kids and the property."
Damián didn't seem bothered by that, but Karla thought it made the school seem more like a prison.
"Come on. We can probably get inside the church this time of day. Do you want to see it?” She looked down at her jeans and t-shirt. “Don’t worry. It’s very casual here. They don’t exclude anyone.”
Karla smiled. “Sure. I’d love to.”
He took her hand and led her up the front steps of the church. Karla hadn’t been to church much and hadn’t really been in a lot of Catholic churches. Okay, she’d been in a total of one, when she went to a childhood friend’s wedding. Inside the church, the coolness contrasted with the heat of the southern California sun. Damián went to a font with water and a sponge, and dipped his middle finger in it and made the sign of the cross. She followed suit, hoping it wasn’t against the rules for a non-Catholic to bless herself, too.
They were about halfway down the aisle when she heard a voice from above. She stifled a giggle. Well, not that kind of voice. A person’s.
“Let’s take On Eagle’s Wings from the top.” The music of an organ filled the church and she realized they were having choir practice.
And He will raise you up on eagle’s wings,
Bear you on the breath of dawn,
Make you to shine like the sun,
And hold you in the palm of His Hand.
Karla found the words comforting as she and Damián continued to make their way forward to a small altar in a side alcove where row upon row of red-glass candle-holders held votive candles, about half of them lit.
“I want to light a candle for Teresa’s healing.”
Karla felt her eyes prick with tears at the touching gesture coming from a man who had so many hard edges. She decided she would light one for Rosa, to remove her feelings of guilt and shame. Somehow, this didn’t seem far removed from the ritual she and Cassie engaged in each year as they put the past behind them and moved on, they hoped to better things.
Damián dropped a folded-up bill in the collection box. Karla wished she’d brought her purse, but hadn’t thought of it. The choir director intruded on their thoughts as each of them stared at the flickering candle they had lit.
“That sounded angelic. I think we’ve got it. See you at Mass Saturday evening.”
She took Damián’s hand in hers and squeezed it, then they made their way to the back of the church where they ran into members of the choir coming down from the loft. She felt Damián’s hand grip hers more tightly and looked up to see the counselor from the clinic staring at him, then at their interlocked hands. Beside her was a beautiful little brown-skinned, black-haired girl of about seven or eight. The counselor took the girl’s arm and pulled her behind her, seemingly trying to shield her from Damián’s view. How odd. Damián wouldn’t hurt anyone—well, no one who didn’t want to be hurt. Of course, the first time she’d seen him, Karla had pegged him as a sadist, so maybe the woman was judging him on his appearance. His ponytail, goatee, and the tail of the dragon tat on his left bicep peeking out from his t-shirt did give him a hard-edged look.
A man dressed in black with a white reversed collar, obviously a priest, came down the stairs and into the vestibule. “Damián, my man! Good to see you home again!”
“Hello, Father Martine.”
The priest took both of his hands in a warm handshake. He looked to be in his early thirties with a swarthy complexion that looked Mediterranean. His eyes were brown and warm. Welcoming and sincere.
“I was just showing my friend where I grew up.” Damián formally introduced Karla to the priest and to the counselor, Savi Baker.
“Ah, I see you two know each other,” Father Martine said of Damián and Savi. “Savi’s been a wonderful addition to the parish.”
The counselor’s face turned red and she looked down at the terra-cotta tiled floor. “Excuse me, Father, but we need to be going. Mari needs her lunch.”
Damián watched as Savi took the little girl’s hand and started toward the doors. He wasn’t sure why, maybe because Savi was so determined to shield the little girl from him, but he needed to meet Savi’s daughter. As they passed by him, he knelt on one knee and addressed the little girl. “Hi, I’m Damián. What’s your name?”
“Marisol.”
Marisol—surf and sun. His mind went back to the cave at Thousand Steps Beach with Savannah. Best not to remember that day. “What grade are you in?”
“Third.”
She was older than he’d expected from the photos in Savi’s office. He looked at her face again and thought how much she looked like Teresa.
Damián stood and met Savi’s gaze only briefly before she grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Mari, we need to go. Now.”
Savi grabbed the girl’s hand and was gone through the door in a flash. Damián stared after them until the door slammed in his face, then turned to face Karla and Father Martine again.
“So, how long has Savi been coming here, Father?”
“She came to us in her late teens. Very troubled home life.”
Was he kidding? Didn’t he know where she lived? Maybe she hadn’t been honest with them when she’d come here.
“But she really turned her life around. She’s certainly a wonderful mother and caring counselor. Everyone loves her.”
I could have loved her—once upon a time.
She certainly was a little on the over-protective side, but these days you couldn’t be too careful. Hell, when a child was attacked by her own father…
“How’s Teresa?” Father Martine asked. Uncanny, as if he’d read Damián’s thoughts.
Damián shrugged. “It’s going to take some time.”
“I’ll stop by in a few days to see her. I hope you will come to Mass this weekend. You, too, Ms. Paxton.”
“Karla, please. And, thank you for the invitation.”
“Please, stay as long as you wish, but I have a meeting with the bishop to prepare for.” He started toward the sanctuary.
Karla called after him, “It was nice to meet you, Father Martine.” Damián said his farewells, then took Karla’s hand and they left the church. He suddenly had no desire to continue touring the old neighborhood. Things had changed too much. He needed to take a ride up the Pacific Coast Highway.
“I’ll be glad when Adam gets here with my bike.”
At Karla’s gasp, he could have kicked himself in the ass. Adam had told him not to mention it to Karla, because she’d just worry. If she could get any whiter, he didn’t know how. Man, he sure had screwed the pooch this time. Adam was going to have his dick on a platt
er if he didn’t calm Karla down.
She stopped on the sidewalk and turned toward him. “What do you mean?”
* * *
Karla waited for Damián to face her, dread knotting her stomach. “I’m sorry, Karla. He left late yesterday afternoon. I expect him here tonight or early tomorrow if he drives straight through.”
Terror rampaged through her. Straight through? “How can he get here that soon? It’s too far to drive straight through.”
“He spent 25 years in the Marines. He’s used to long hours without sleep.”
“He’s been retired for years!” Karla heard the panic in her voice, but didn’t care. “He’s not conditioned for that kind of endurance now.” And he’d just flown home to Denver from Minneapolis sometime yesterday. He must have set out immediately, without any sleep. Oh, God. She was going to be sick.
Damián took her upper arms in his hands and shook her once to get her attention. “Karla, I want you to breathe.” She tried to, but couldn’t inhale because of the boulder resting on her chest. “Now, Karla.”
“He’ll die on that thing.” Her words came out in a whispery gasp as looked into Damián’s eyes, desperate for hope.
“He’ll be fine. Look, we’ll call him on the cell phone when we get back to the house. You’ll see.”
Karla felt the blood drain from her face, but managed to drag in a couple breaths. “I don’t want him answering a cell phone while he’s riding that thing!” Wait. She knew Adam didn’t answer his cell phone while he was driving and didn’t let her either.
“Karla, I’ll leave him a message right now. Don’t worry.” He pulled the phone out of his pocket and hit the speed dial. “Dad, it’s me. Give me a call when you can and let us…me know where you are.”
He disconnected the phone and wrapped his arms around Karla to give her a hug. “Please don’t worry. Adam’s going to be okay. He won’t take any chances.”
“But what about other drivers?”
Later that night, Karla checked her cell phone again. No missed calls. No text messages. She glanced over at Damián who shook his head. It had been six hours since Damián had called. She’d sent a text message, as well. He should have gotten back to them by now. Surely he’d taken a break in six hours.
Something had happened. Visions of Adam’s body lying mangled on the side of the road brought bile rising into the back of her throat. She jumped up from the kitchen chair and ran down the hallway to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before she lost the contents of her stomach.
Damián followed her into the bathroom as she flushed the toilet. He ran water in the sink and handed her a cold washcloth. “Here, querida.”
She leaned against the wall, took the cloth in her shaking hand, and wiped her mouth, then turned it over and pressed it against her burning forehead and eyes, hoping he didn’t see her tears. She hated showing weakness.
“Look, I’m sure there’s a simple explanation. Maybe his phone battery died.”
More tears filled her eyes. “I just have this bad feeling.” Damián held out his arms and she walked into them. “Oh, God. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to him.”
“I know, bebé. But I’m sure he’s going to be fine. You just have to have faith. Adam’s invincible.”
“I used to think that about my brother, too. And look how close Adam came to dying on that mountain before you killed the cougar.”
“I wish I’d kept my big mouth shut about the damned bike. He’s gonna ream me out for sure.”
“No, it’s not your fault. He should have been honest with me himself. He knew how I felt about motorcycles.” Yet he’d ridden the bike out here anyway.
“You need to get your mind off this. Why don’t you get cleaned up and we’ll take everyone down to San Diego for some fun tonight. I think we all can use a break right about now.”
“But what if Adam comes and we’re gone?”
“We can leave a note. I’ll bring you home right away if he gets here tonight.” He let her go. “I’ll go get everyone else ready.”
He left her there to brush her teeth, wash her face, and regroup. Her hands shook and she saw the dark rings under her eyes. God, if Adam did get here, he’d take one look at her and run all the way back to Colorado.
Karla didn’t want to go out and wasn’t quite sure what Damián had in mind, but figured it would be something active, with Teresa and her little brother, José. She opted for a t-shirt and jeans. She’d just walked back into the kitchen where Damián’s family had gathered when she heard the rumble of a motorcycle. Not just any motorcycle, either. Definitely a hog.
She glanced at Damián, her heart climbing into her throat. He smiled. “That’s my baby. I’d know her growl anywhere.”
Karla ran out the back door, down the steps, and around the side of the house. At the curb sat Adam astride the beastly machine, removing a dusty black helmet, and wearing a black leather bomber jacket and black leather pants, equally dusty. She had to admit, he looked like every bad-boy stereotype she’d ever seen in the movies—only he was real. Layers of dirt-mixed sweat caked around his tired-looking eyes. He was the best thing she’d seen in a long time.
Taking a running start, she catapulted herself across the postage-stamp sized lawn and was in his arms before he could even get off the bike. “Oh, Sir. I thought you were dead.”
“Whoa! What’s this all about, kitten?”
“When I heard you were riding this damned bike out here, I just pictured all kinds of horrible things. Then you didn’t answer our text messages or voicemails...”
With his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her away from him, then swung his left leg over the bike’s saddle and pulled her between his thighs. “Where’s Damián? I want a piece of his hide for telling you.”
Karla’s index finger stabbed his leather-covered chest for emphasis, trying to command his attention. “You should have been the one to tell me. Why did you choose to ride this damned machine when you knew how I felt? Don’t pretend you were trying to take my feelings into consideration. I don’t buy it. I’m pissed at you right now.”
“I thought you were just eternally grateful I wasn’t road kill.”
She pounded her fist against his chest, but probably hurt herself more than him. “Don’t you dare make fun of my fears!”
“C’mon, tiger. Retract your claws. You should know by now I’m indestructible. Besides, it’s been a helluva long ride and I don’t need you riding me, now. At least not like this.”
She looked up at him and locked her jaw so it wouldn’t shake. “Oh, Adam. I kept picturing you lying somewhere…”
He held his arms out to her.
Karla walked into his embrace and held on tightly, wanting nothing more than to take care of him. She never could stay angry long.
“I’m sorry I worried you, kitten. It wasn’t my intention. I was just the easiest way to get the bike out here and Damián can always handle things better when he can go for a ride and think.”
“I understand. Just don’t do it again.”
He chuckled. “Are you telling your Dom what to do?”
“Punish me all you want, but yes, I am.” Her voice filled with emotion. “I anything happened to you, Sir, I’d…”
“Enough, Karla. Nothing happened. I’m here. End of story.”
Karla sighed. “Yes, Sir. Come inside. We have leftover enchiladas and Spanish rice. You can take a shower or bath first, if you like.”
“I don’t suppose there’s room in the tub for both of us.”
She leaned back and grinned up at him. “I don’t think so, unless we take a shower.” Memories of his taking her roughly in the shower last month made her clit throb. Hard to believe it had only been a few weeks.
He met her gaze. “Oh, yeah. Shower it is.” He grinned.
How could she stay mad at him, when all she wanted was to be in bed—after being in the shower—with him again?
Adam grew serious as he stood u
p next to her. “Now, before I go in there, tell me how things are going.”
Karla gave him updates on Teresa and Rosa and told him she’d spent most of her time entertaining ten-year-old José, who didn’t understand what had happened, but knew some serious shit had gone down around him.
“How about you, kitten? Have you been eating? You look like you’ve lost weight. Are you getting enough sleep?” The pads of his thumbs brushed against the circles she’d seen in the mirror this morning.
It touched her heart that he’d think about her at a time like this, even when she knew she must look a mess, after her recent episode in the bathroom. “I’m fine, now that you’re here.” She stepped into his arms again, wrapped her arms around his waist, and held on tight. Despite the road grime, she still detected a hint of his woodsy scent, along with the more potent male musk and sweat. “I missed you so much, Sir.”
His arms around her “Not half as much as I missed you, kitten.” He bent down and brushed his lips against her, sending shockwaves through her body. She’d missed his touch, his kisses, his…
“You two need to get a room.”
Chapter Seventeen
Karla broke apart from Adam to find Damián standing a few feet away, grinning at them warily as he met Adam’s gaze. Adam gave him a withering stare in return. “Your ass is grass, son, for worrying Karla like that.”
Damián grew serious. “It just slipped out this morning. I swear, if I could have called the words back, I would have. Immediately.” Then his tone turned accusatory. “So, why didn’t you respond to our messages?”
“Fucking phone died outside Las Vegas this morning.” Adam looked down and scraped the toe of his boot against the curb. “Okay, so I forgot to charge it at the motel.”
His sheepish grin warmed her heart all over again. “You stopped?”
“Hell, yeah. Twelve hours on the road was my limit. Pulled into Vegas this morning and decided to get some shuteye before I took the last five-hour stretch.”
He did use a little common sense. She smiled, and he quirked an eyebrow at her, but she didn't explain. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him again and felt his encircle her.
Nobody's Hero Page 25