Deacon (Unfinished Heroes #4)
Page 31
“On a scale of one to ten, how bad was it when you found her?”
“Seven million, six hundred thousand, and twenty-three.”
I swallowed and knew from his face he wasn’t joking.
Not even close.
My God.
I drew in a breath and launched in.
“Your wife that you loved and wanted to build a life and family with had a drug problem since before you were married, never told you about it, started using again, and didn’t tell you that either. She had sex for money to pay for her habit while still living with you, married to you, and supposedly trying to make a baby with you, all while you were away from her to earn money to buy a house for your coming family, something she agreed with you doing. Then she left you, choosing drugs over you. Is that right? She didn’t go missing. She left.”
“She left,” he confirmed.
“No note, not even smoke signals?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
“And even with all that, you put your life on hold to find her and fix her, this ending with you being in extreme danger and nearly losing your life twice to do that.”
He looked back to the trees. “Not my brightest idea.”
“That’s so beautiful, I wanna cry again,” I declared and he cut his eyes to me. “But I won’t let myself because my cheeks are cold and I don’t want them to freeze.”
“Cassidy—”
“And now I can’t make you cookies, which sucks. I like cookies.” My voice was rising and Bossy lifted her head because of it, so I reined it in.
“Cass—”
“If she was alive, I’d kill her,” I announced.
His head jerked and he started, “Woman—”
“I’m serious, Deacon.”
“I see that, Cassidy. But you’re not gettin’ me. I lived in that world. I did things. Things that—”
“I do not give that first fuck,” I snapped and his brows shot together as his head jerked. “You had your whole life planned out. You met a pretty girl at a bar who made you happy and you started it right away, because you knew what you wanted, just like me. And she fucked it up. And you gave up everything to get it back, give it to her, give it to yourself. What we have, that’s beautiful war, Deacon. What you had with Jeannie was ugly war. And in ugly war, things get ugly.”
“We’re talkin’ serious shit, Cassie.”
“You said you believe in what you do,” I reminded him.
“I did.”
My body tensed again.
“Did?”
“I’m out.”
I blinked. “Out?”
“Out.”
I stared at him.
“Last thing I did before comin’ to you was cut ties,” he told me.
Everything inside me, everything that was me, expanded so huge, it was a wonder I didn’t explode the porch.
“You’re never leaving,” I whispered.
“No. Never,” he replied firmly. “Even if it dawns on you the man I became and the company I kept, I’m gonna make it so you understand, believe in me again, and never want me to leave.”
“I already don’t ever want you to leave.”
He closed his eyes, raw washing through his features bathed in the lights from the kitchen window.
It was a beautiful sight to see.
Then he opened them. “Did shit, baby.”
“I don’t care.”
“Wanna give that to you. Need to so you understand the man in your bed and why that man was me.”
I leaned toward him over the arm of my chair. “Don’t you get it, Deacon? I already understand. And I believe. The only time I quit believing was when you didn’t give me what I needed in order to keep doing it. I have that now. All I need. I don’t need any more.”
“Here,” he growled, his expression changed again.
Fierce.
Fierce with his love for me.
That was way more beautiful.
Totally.
I didn’t go there because I was relishing the look on his face, letting it settle down deep, memorizing every inch. Not to mention, I had his here back, and as annoying as that was, I’d missed that too.
Deacon got impatient and grabbed my hand, yanking it hard so his tug took my chair closer to his. Bossy gave a soft bark, and in order not to drop my cocoa, I set it aside and got out of the chair. The throw fell to the deck as I moved to him and he moved his boots from the railing. When he had them to the deck, I put a knee to the seat by his hip and swung the other leg over, settling my booty in his lap.
Both his hands slid up my back, pulling me to him as I put my hands to his shoulders.
“Was a bounty hunter,” he said when he got me close.
“Deacon, you don’t have to—”
“Didn’t find folks who jumped bond. Found bad guys and returned them to worse guys who could pay me in cash.”
I clamped my mouth shut.
“Got four million, five hundred seventy-five thousand dollars, in cash, hidden in safe places across the country.”
My mouth dropped open.
“Took three men’s lives,” he went on and my eyes got huge. “Hunt went bad, it got to a point that it was them or me, so I picked me.”
“I’d pick that too,” I said quietly.
It was like I didn’t speak as he kept talking and I knew he had to get this out.
“Didn’t like that shit happened but those men were not good men. It’s a lot of trust but you gotta believe me when I say the world is not a poorer place without them in it.”
“I trust you.”
He stared at me a moment before he muttered, “Jesus.”
“I do.”
His gaze was softer, as was his tone, when he replied, “I know.”
I bent closer to him, lifting a hand, and curling it around the side of his neck.
Deacon kept going.
“That world needs contained, Cassie. If it isn’t contained, women like Jeannie get sucked into it. It’s a war that has no end, a job that’ll never get done, a world that leaks every day, millions of times a day, into good people’s lives. But I did my bit to keep that world contained.”
“I get it, honey,” I said gently.
“Hunted once,” he went on, “that was not for money. My man Raid, he’s got a woman, good woman. He was livin’ his own nightmare, she guided him out. Some men hurt her and did it bad. He lost his mind. Had to contain him, had to contain the situation, had to help him send a message. She was off-limits. Worked with Knight, Creed, and Sylvie, that message was sent.”
I nodded.
I understood what he was saying.
“You need to know more.”
I didn’t want more.
“Give me what you need,” I invited.
His hands moved in order to curve his arms around me, he gave me a squeeze, and I knew just with my words I’d already given him what he needed.
“Men who did what they did to Jeannie, they’re no longer breathing.”
“Okay,” I whispered.
“Not me doin’ it. Wanted them to hurt, got deep in that world to find her, found I had skills in that world. Took to it. Got really fuckin’ good at it. That’s why I became what I became and did it for money. But they knew who I was. Knew my name. What they did to Jeannie and them knowin’ who I was—so that my way in that world started and stopped with me, didn’t leak to my folks, my sister—they had to go. So I set it up so they got in a war, suffered during that war, and lost their lives to it.”
He was saying that wouldn’t leak to Glacier Lily.
“I would have done the same,” I replied.
His lips quirked. “Bullshit.”
“I’m a tough broad,” I reminded him.
He shook his head, humor lighting his eyes, but then he sobered.
“What you need to take from that is, no one knows me as Deacon Gates. No one knows why I was in that world except Raid. Deacon Gates died with Jeannie and the men
who brought her low. No one even knew me as Deacon, ’cept the folks I knew in my gut I could trust. They never disappointed. They won’t. They didn’t before because I picked the right people to trust. Now, they’ll have an added incentive not to do it ’cause they know if they do, it could harm you, and they’d wake up with their throats slit.”
“Deacon,” I breathed.
“Do not mistake me.” His voice was now firm but harsh. “That world does not touch you and I will do anything, Cassidy, to make sure it doesn’t.”
“Okay,” I said soothingly. Then, to change the subject, I asked, “People had to find you, know you, and call you something, so what were you known as?”
“Ghost.”
That was kind of cool.
“Because you were hard to get a handle on?” I asked.
“Because I was dead man walking.”
I stared.
Deacon kept going.
“I was a cold motherfucker, off the grid, no life, no home, no ties, no emotions, everyone knew it. Until I came back to some rundown cabins I’d been to before that were off the beaten path. Perfect place for the minimal downtime I let myself have. Quiet place. A place no one could find me. But when I came back, a beautiful woman with attitude, amazing eyes, and lips I wanted wrapped around my dick was fightin’ with her boyfriend. Lucky me, later, I found she was stubborn, ornery, funny, strong, spoke her mind, liked dogs, to be tied up, to come hard, take it up the ass, and give it as good as she gets.” He lifted his head from the chair so his face was an inch from mine. “And she resurrected me.”
God.
God.
Deacon’s brand of sweet, this time amplified beyond imagining.
I’d never get used to it.
Because I couldn’t hold it up anymore, I dropped my head so my face was in his neck.
I clutched the other side of his neck, pushing my face in, whispering, “Baby.”
“Tried to be dead again when I let you go, Cassie. Dead doesn’t hurt. Tried fuckin’ hard to find it. But I couldn’t find it. You lived in me.”
I closed my eyes tight, pushed closer, and held on.
Deacon gave me a squeeze of his arms and kept speaking.
“Thought my luck had run out. I finally pulled my head outta my ass, made my way back to wage beautiful war, and timed it so your girl was comin’ up the lane while I was drivin’ down it.”
I opened my eyes, lifted my head, and looked at him. “Really?”
“Fuckin’ Hollywood shit, she raced to me, thought she was gonna play chicken, ram right into me or force me off the lane. She cut the wheel at the last moment, cuttin’ me off, rolled out of her truck, and started shouting.”
I started giggling.
And then I got Deacon’s grooves, his crinkles, and I felt glee.
I’d missed that too.
“If I wasn’t shocked as shit she could pull that off without damage to either vehicle, and my head wasn’t filled with gettin’ to you, I woulda bust a gut laughing too, woman.”
“In retrospect,” I said, still giggling. “It’s pretty funny.”
He continued to give me the grooves and crinkles as he agreed, “Yeah.”
He removed one arm so he could curl his hand at my jaw, fingertips in my hair, and yes, I’d missed that too.
“She’s gone.”
His tone was back to serious so I got serious too.
“I know, Deacon,” I told him. “But Milagros is pretty confused, not in a good way, about—”
“I don’t mean her. Milagros, Manuel, the kids, I’ll make that good again. Bust my ass to do it. You need it. I need it. They’re part of you, a part of what you gave me that made me feel clean again. But that’s not what I mean. I mean Jeannie.”
I nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Cassidy, what I’m sayin’ is, you wanna make cookies, you make ’em for you and for me.”
Sheesh, he could so read me.
He kept going.
“She does not control me, not anymore. She sure as fuck doesn’t control you, not ever again. I let you go, let. I could have kept you but I let that shit happen. Raid told me when a man is burned by a woman, he gets over it and moves on. When he burns a good woman, he doesn’t. What I didn’t get is that I got burned, and not by a good woman, by a troubled one who I allowed to drag me down. And I had to find it in me to let her go because of that. Not you. It took a while for it to penetrate, but I finally figured out I would never be able to let you go because you weren’t what I wanted for a good life, like Jeannie. You were what I needed.”
Oh God.
He had to stop.
He didn’t stop.
“But I could let her go. I had that power. She was dead. It was me givin’ her the power to hold on. So I let her go. Now we live our lives. We live ’em good. We live ’em happy. She dragged me down for years.” His hand gave me a squeeze. “Now I’m back at the surface, baby. With you. And she’s gone.”
My smile was shaky, but happy, when I gave it to him, nodding.
He stroked my cheek with his thumb. “Your folks pissed at me?”
My smile faded when I kept nodding.
“I’ll fix that too,” he muttered.
I believed him.
Totally.
“Can I ask you something?” I requested.
“Anything.”
Anything.
My smile came back as a small grin. Then I took a deep breath.
“The thirty-eight women…” I said, trailing off.
“Few before Jeannie, most of them after she died. Lookin’ back, I was subconsciously tryin’ to find my way back to clean. None of them did it for me. So, as you know, I quit lookin’.”
“I get that.”
“Good,” he murmured.
“And the non-PDA?” I went on.
“What?”
“You don’t touch me much in public, Deacon. You’re very affectionate but not when other people are around.”
“You want that?”
“Well…yeah. If it’s in you to give.”
“I’ll give it to you.”
“But did you not do it because—?”
“I didn’t do it because, my hands on you, that tended to lead to something.”
I stared at him. “I’m pretty sure you can control your base instincts.”
“I can. But my dick has a mind of its own around you. Don’t need to be fightin’ gettin’ hard while a ten-year-old kid is interrogatin’ me about my life.”
“Oh,” I mumbled, getting it.
“Or when I’m walkin’ down the aisle in a grocery store.”
I started grinning.
Deacon watched my mouth, muttering, “I see she gets me.”
“I get you.”
His eyes came to mine. “I’ll get over that, woman, I get used to you.”
He was teasing.
“Then I’ll have to keep giving it to you good so you don’t,” I retorted.
His thumb slid over my lips again with his eyes watching as he said, “She likes me hard.”
“Absolutely.”
His eyes came back to mine and they were dancing.
I leaned in and touched my lips to his.
When I pulled back, I asked, “When’s your birthday?”
“September thirtieth,” he answered instantly.
That would have washed over me too, in a happy way, but it didn’t (well, it did, just that I was shocked).
“Seriously?”
His brows drew together. “No boundaries,”
I couldn’t believe this.
He knew it. I knew when he growled, “Not lyin’, woman.”
“Baby,” was all I could get out.
“What?” he clipped.
I wanted to start giggling.
I didn’t.
Instead, I said, “That’s my birthday too.”
He stared. Then he grinned.
And all was right in the world.
“No shit?” he asked
.
I shook my head.
“Meant for me, Cassie,” he murmured. “I know ’cause eight years from the day God put me on earth, he put you here for me.”
He was so wrong.
“No,” I disagreed. “Eight years before I got to this earth, he put you here for me.”
His eyes started dancing again before that light faded and his expression got serious.
“Got one more thing to ask of you.”
“Shoot.”
He took his hand from my jaw to wrap his arm around me again and both held me close.
“Need you to talk to someone about watchin’ Glacier Lily. Need to go to Iowa, see my folks, mend what I broke, and when I do, I want you to be with me.”
Yes.
Yes.
It was back.
I felt glee.
“I’m there whenever you’re ready,” I replied immediately.
“Fuck, I love you,” he returned on a powerful arm squeeze.
“Love you more.”
“That’s doubtful.”
I screwed my eyes up at him. “I totally love you more.”
He held my gaze. Then his went to the porch ceiling.
“She can argue about who loves who more.”
“I so love you more,” I retorted.
He looked back at me.
Then he whispered, “Beautiful war.”
Beautiful war.
It was indeed.
I didn’t get the chance to agree.
Deacon slid his hand up into my hair, pulled me to him, and kissed me.
He gave it all to me.
I gave it back.
And we made out in Deacon’s chair in the cold on my porch by a river in the Colorado Mountains and we did it a long, long time.
Yes.
Daddy was home.
Yippee!
Epilogue
Cookies
I was in my foyer, pacing the floor, Bossy at my side panting.
Deacon was leaned against the jamb of the kitchen door, arms crossed on his chest, jeans-clad hip hitched, one foot crossed at the ankle, watching me.
“Woman, cool it,” he ordered.
I stopped and looked to him.
Mom and Dad were going to be there imminently to look after Glacier Lily while Deacon and I went to Iowa.
I’d called Mom and told her Deacon was back, we’d worked things out, and we were picking up where we left off.