by Freya Barker
Rosie lifts her head when I stick my head into her office.
“Everything okay?”
She waves me in and I take a seat across from her.
“Yeah. I just wish there was something more I could do to help Brad.”
“Is that why he was here? Hank?”
“As a courtesy. Brad asked me to call him the moment he saw the cops pull up outside. Guess he figured they were here for him.”
Rosie is far from stupid, and I’m sure my weak explanation for the lawyer’s visit isn’t cutting it, but she doesn’t probe further. I feel like a heel lying to her.
“How’s the headache?”
“A little better.”
“Did you talk to Dimas today?” she asks, her head tilted slightly as she closely observes me.
“Briefly.”
It’s not exactly a lie, although I didn’t do any talking and I barely gave him a chance to say much either, I just hung up on him.
“Did he tell you about this mess with their client?” When I shake my head, she leans forward on her desk and continues in a lower voice. “Apparently this woman faked a stalker, just so her rich daddy would hire PASS for her security.”
“Why?” I can’t for the life of me imagine why someone would do that—attention?
“Who knows why people do the things they do,” she says after a bit of a hesitation. “I’m sure Dimas can tell you.”
I look down at my hands.
“About that…the last thing I want is for things to get awkward between you and me, but I don’t think I’m gonna see him again.”
“Oh no, what happened?”
“I just don’t think we’re compatible.” That sounds like a lame excuse, even from my own mouth.
“Bull. I think you’re just running scared,” she challenges me. “He’s one of the best guys out there. You could do a whole lot worse.”
There it is, the awkwardness.
“I’m sure, but…”
“Is it because of his leg?”
My mouth drops open in shock.
“Of course not. That’s a ridiculous thing to say,” I snap.
“No more ridiculous than saying you’re not compatible. That’s the dumbest excuse ever. If you’re not into him, just say that.”
“More a case of him not being into me, Rosie.”
To my surprise she bursts out laughing.
“Oh my, that’s priceless. Are you kidding me? He’s so into you it’s almost pathetic.”
“He has a funny way of showing it.”
I get up, cross the hallway into my office to snatch my phone and return. I find my messages, pull up the exchange with Dimas from yesterday and show it to her.
“You can scroll down.”
“That’s not like him,” she finally says. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
“Apparently that’s how he is with me, and as far as his explanation, that left a lot to be desired. A lot.” I take a deep breath in and soften my tone. “The truth is, I’m already hurting, Rosie. I’ve done well on my own most of my life. Why would I risk getting hurt by letting myself fall even deeper? It sucks that he’s your friend, but I really think this is for the best.”
“We’ll see.”
It’s obvious she’s not convinced, but at least she seems to be backing off. Until I turn to walk out of her office and she pipes up behind me.
“My money is on Dimas.”
That headache is no longer fake, and I manage to hang in there for another hour before I throw in the towel. Rosie quickly waves me out the door, telling me to get some rest.
I plan to do just that as soon as I’ve picked up a bulk-sized bottle of aspirin and a couple of things I’m running low on at the grocery store.
Of course those couple of things somehow multiply into a cartful by the time I head for the checkout lines. Only one of the twelve registers is open. Figures. The headache I’d managed to dull with a couple of aspirin flares up in full force, when I see someone I’d rather avoid standing in line already.
“Willa. How wonderful to see you.”
Maris Dietrich.
I haven’t missed the program coordinator since leaving the VA hospital, so I can’t say the same. The woman had been a thorn in my side ever since the object of her obsession, Dr. Brantley Parker—who is responsible for the veterans’ outpatient programs—decided I would be next on his vast menu of conquests. Maris, in her narrow-minded wisdom, decided it had to be my fault he didn’t look at her twice, and proceeded to make my life miserable enough I jumped at the job opportunity at the shelter.
Still, I plaster a smile on my face.
“Hi, Maris. You look good.” I reluctantly push my cart in line behind her.
“Why, thank you. How sweet of you,” she gushes and I wonder what happened to that sharp tongue of hers. “I’m engaged now,” she says, waving a giant rock in my face. “Happier than I’ve ever been, which is probably showing.”
“Must be.” I make what I hope are the appropriate sounds of admiration as I’m made to study the ring. “Who’s the lucky man?”
“Why, Brantley Parker, of course,” she says, eyeing me intently.
It’s on my tongue to congratulate her on finally landing the man, but manage to contain myself.
“Well, congratulations. I’m thrilled for you both.” I’m very proud of my mature response, even though I mentally add, “You deserve each other.”
When the cashier calls for the next person in line, Maris mumbles a distracted, “Thank you,” before turning her back.
My mind is still on the interesting encounter when I push the cart toward my RAV. My eyes scan the parking lot for a glimpse of the woman, but instead they catch on a figure a couple of rows over.
I could’ve sworn I just saw Dave Williams duck between two parked cars.
Dimas
“Rosie tells me you’ve been sniffing around Willa.”
I shouldn’t be surprised he’s calling me out on that. As disgustingly happy as Jake and Rosie are, it stands to reason they don’t keep secrets.
We’re finally on our way back to Grand Junction after a day I’d like to erase from memory. Yanis and Bree are driving the Yukon in front of us, with Mercedes in the back seat.
Yanis got her to confess to setting this whole stalker thing up with the aid of one of her equally clueless girlfriends. Hard to believe that a thirty-one-year-old woman—let alone two—would be that stupid. And why? Because of a dumb crush?
From what I understand, she’d tried to throw me under the bus by claiming it had been more than what it was and I’d supposedly made her promises. I consider myself lucky neither Yanis nor Jake bought into that.
Then of course there’s this fucked-up situation with Willa that I don’t fully understand.
“If you mean have I been seeing her, then yes,” I answer curtly. “Although that may well be a thing of the past, so you don’t need to go all big brother on me.”
His chuckle annoys me.
“Fuck it up already?”
“She blocked my phone number and I don’t even fucking know what I did.”
“Willa doesn’t strike me as a flighty person, so I’m sure she felt she had a good reason.”
I shoot him a glare.
“Is that you being supportive? Because if it is, you suck at it,” I grumble.
“No, that’s me being observant and if you weren’t in such a pissy mood, you would’ve noted I didn’t say she had a good reason, I said she must’ve felt she had one.”
“All I know is I tried calling her last night as we’d agreed, and she didn’t answer. I was leaving her a message when Mercedes walked into the bedroom, running her mouth. Fuck, as soon as that situation was under control I left another couple of messages to explain. This morning she’d blocked my number and I ended up calling from Bree’s phone, but she hung up on me. You tell me what I did wrong.”
“Shit, brother. That goes beyond my pay scale, but according to Rosie…”
he pulls out his phone and looks at the screen, “and I quote; you suck and should grovel until Willa forgives you for being an asswipe, or Rosie won’t ever talk to you again.” Then he pins me with a glare. “Clearly you did something. You should go talk to her.”
“Not helping me,” I grind out, attempting to keep my focus on the road. If I could’ve talked to her, whatever this is could’ve been sorted out already, but she won’t fucking listen.
Ahead of me the Yukon turns off toward the airport. I keep going straight to the next exit.
“Hey, baby,” I hear Jake on his phone beside me. “We’re on our way home. Yeah, I’ll tell you when I get there. Dimi’s dropping me off at the office so I can pick up my truck. Yes, he’s here. I already—. Okay, hang on one sec.” He turns to me. “Rosie wants to talk to you.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I grumble.
“Yeah, that’s him. Okay, hang on, gonna put you on speakerphone.”
“You’re an idiot,” Rosie’s voice is loud and clear.
I press my lips together before I say something Jake is not going to be happy about. The asshole is chuckling beside me.
“He’s clueless,” he informs his wife. “Put him out of his misery, baby,”
“Dimas?”
“What, Rosie?” I sigh, frustrated out of my mind.
“You want a clue? Check your last text message to Willa.”
My last text? That was yesterday morning when I was picking up Bree to head up to Palisade. That’s when I told her I’d call her later.
“The one about talking dirty?”
Jake’s chuckles turn into a laugh and I throw a sharp glance his way as I turn into the PASS parking lot.
“What?” Rosie squeals. “Your memory must be failing you. I suggest you check again. Jake, honey, I’ll see you when you get home.”
The moment he gets out of the vehicle, I pull out my phone and check.
Me: Excited. Definitely.
That’s the last text I sent her.
I toss my phone in the cup-holder and drive off, still no wiser. I don’t even think I touched it until I let…
Fucking hell.
I get to Willa’s place in record time. Relieved to see her RAV in the driveway, I pull in behind it. The door opens as I walk up. She must’ve seen me pull in.
“What do you want, Dimas?” she asks, sounding and looking tired.
“I want you to look at this.” I hold my phone up in front of her. “Read it,” I prompt her when she doesn’t take her eyes off me.
“Why am I looking at this?”
“Because that’s the last message I sent you.”
“Bullshit.”
“Here.” I shove the phone at her and watch as she tries to scroll down.
“I don’t understand,” she finally says.
“That makes two of us. Can I come in so we can sort this out?”
For a moment it looks like she’s going to say no, but then she steps out of the way and I quickly move past her inside.
“Where’s your phone?”
“I’ll get it.”
I follow her into the kitchen where her phone is charging on the counter. She unplugs it, punches in a code, and hands it over. I immediately go to her texts and my blood boils when I read what I’m supposed to have sent.
“That goddamn bitch,” I spit out, and almost fling Willa’s phone at the wall, just catching myself at the last minute.
“Okay. I am so confused. Are you saying you didn’t send those?”
“Fuck no, I didn’t send those.”
I’m barely holding on to my temper when she turns around and opens the fridge, taking out a couple of beers and setting them on the counter.
“I’m going to grab a sweater and we’ll go outside. You can punch a tree if you need to, but then I’d really appreciate an explanation.”
When she disappears down the hallway, I grab the beers and head out on her back deck. If I regretted fucking Mercedes before, I do even more now. The last thing I want to do is explain what already was a really bad decision at the time. One with consequences worse than I could’ve anticipated.
I set the beers on a small table between two Adirondack chairs and move to lean on the railing, hanging my head as I take a few deep breaths in. I turn when I hear the sliding door open.
“First of all, I’m so fucking sorry. I couldn’t figure out why you weren’t taking my calls, but I get it now.” I take the bottle she hands me and take a swig when she sits down in one of the chairs, pulling her knees up to her chest. I stay where I am so I can look at her. “The day before I met you I made a monumental mistake.”
I don’t hold back and tell her everything. She sips her beer and keeps a mostly straight face; until I get to the part where we came to the conclusion Mercedes Rockton had faked a stalker just to get close to me.
“What a fucking psycho.”
“Pretty much,” I agree, relieved at her reaction.
I toss back my beer, set the bottle on the railing, and move toward her, leaning down. But when I try to kiss her she stops me.
“Hold on. Not so fast.”
Fuck.
I was afraid that was too easy.
Chapter Twelve
Dimas
“Motherfucker!”
I quickly reach down and pull Radar to his feet. Blood is streaming from his nose.
“Fuck, brother. I’m sorry.”
I grab a towel off the ropes and toss it at him before he bleeds all over the floor.
“I think you broke it.” His voice is muffled as he presses the towel to his face with one hand, and unclips the strap of his headgear.
“We’ll get you checked out. Jesus, Radar, you’re like a goddamn faucet.”
I’ve been in a foul mood since Willa put the brakes on a few days ago. I’d been ready to pick up where we’d left off, but apparently that doesn’t work for her. She needed some time, so I gave her some, but it’s been four days and it’s starting to mess with my head.
I was taking my frustration out in the ring, when Radar mumbled something about me needing to get laid, and I hauled out.
“Save those hits for your bout, fucker,” he says, climbing between the ropes. “You’re gonna need it.”
Radar put my name in as a challenger for this coming Wednesday night in Loma. I could’ve called Jason Krupcek, that scout, to set something up, but it works better if I can decide who I fight and when I fight.
I’ve chosen not to share this with my brother yet and have sworn Radar to secrecy. After the fiasco in Palisade, I’m afraid he wouldn’t be too open to my plans and I can’t afford to be slowed down. Hank tells me Brad is hanging on by a thread and I need to get him out of there.
So I’m going ahead, with only Radar to back me up, and hope I can get some answers for Brad. I’ll deal with my brother after.
Lena is the first person we encounter when we walk into the office a couple of hours later, after a visit to the emergency room, and her mouth falls open.
“Holy shit, what happened to you?”
Radar’s nose turned out not to be broken but is pretty swollen, and he’s starting to look like a raccoon from the bruising around his eyes.
“Gym mishap,” he mutters, darting by her desk and disappearing into his office, slamming the door shut behind him.
I head for the small kitchen in search of coffee. Bree is just coming out.
“Yanis was looking for you earlier. He’s on his way to Panama to deal with some issues at the copper mine.”
There are a few North American mining companies with interests in Central and South America we have contracts with. Mostly for personal security of the executives when visiting the mines, but the contract for the copper mine includes site security since it started commercial production last year. We had to hire local staff for the project.
“What issues?”
“Theft. One of our guards was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Yanis is flying out to try and salva
ge the contract.”
Copper is a valuable commodity. Hell, copper is stripped from houses and commercial job sites because it’s worth a pretty penny even as scrap.
Theft is one of the main things we’re supposed to be there to protect against. Having one of our own employees do the stealing does not look good. I’m glad putting out fires like that isn’t my job.
“What did he need me for?”
“He wants you to take his meeting at The Red Apple today. One thirty. He left the file on your desk to go over.”
We’re supposed to install security and cameras throughout the new nightclub scheduled to open in six weeks. For the past couple of months, the inside of the freestanding commercial building has been gutted and is being turned into a high-end, two-story club not too far from where I live.
Yanis had done the front-end work on this contract, but I guess we’re getting close to installation.
“No problem.”
While I spend most of the morning going over the plans and Yanis’ notes, Radar was the subject of some intense ribbing by Jake and Bree. Every so often he’d throw a dirty look in my direction until Jake picks up on it.
“You wouldn’t have anything to do with the state of Radar’s face, now would you?”
“Me? Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hmm. You’re a shit liar.” I decide ignoring him is the best course of action until he adds, “Is this about Willa?”
Shit. I managed to distract myself all morning, but hearing her name brings back all the frustration. I pile all the paperwork back in the file, tuck it under my arm and get up.
“I’m gonna head out.”
“Your appointment isn’t until one thirty,” he points out.
“I’ve got a stop to make first.”
Ignoring the smug smile on Jake’s face, I walk over to Lena’s desk to let her know I’m off before heading out.
On the way downtown I wonder if, with Yanis out of the way, I should include Jake in my plans. Wouldn’t be a bad idea to have both him and Radar at my back Wednesday night. Just in case.
I find a parking spot a few doors down from the Dream Cafe and head inside to put in my order for two of their Malibu chicken sandwiches. The place already has a healthy lunch crowd going, so when the girl behind the counter tells me it’ll be ten minutes, I head next door to Grand Valley Books to kill some time.