by Sam Cheever
Felicia’s eyes filled with tears. “And if they don’t?”
“Then we’ll get my Uncle Guido involved.” Bruno said with a grin.
Felicia grinned. “Guido? Are you kidding? You have an uncle named Guido?”
“His real name’s Gabriel, but he doesn’t think it sounds intimidating enough. He likes to play up the Italian thing.”
Felicia’s eyes widened. She remembered Dave introducing her and her ex-husband, Philip, to a powerful lawyer once at a party. The man had had dark hair and flashing black eyes and he’d joked about being a member of the local mob. “Gabriel Vitale?”
“The one and only,” Bruno answered with a sense of real pride. “Uncle Guido’ll get Garrett out of jail. Or da guy who done dis’ll be swimmin’ wid da fishes.”
Felicia laughed at Bruno’s bad mobster imitation, feeling better. But just in case, she said a silent prayer of thanks for Uncle Guido—mobster or no they might need his very talented services.
* * * * *
Garrett slouched in the chair across from Detective Hanks, a burly cop with curly brown hair that stood up tall at the top and was sliced off micro-short on the sides, giving him an elongated look from the chin to the top of his massive head. Garrett decided he looked like a buffalo.
Hanks worked laboriously over his report, a well-chewed pencil clutched in his meaty fist. Garrett looked around the room, seeing a mixture of uniform and street-dressed cops, and a few civilian types who may or may not have been criminals.
“When was the last time you saw Mr. Rogers?”
“I was probably about five.”
Hanks’ buffalo face contorted in confusion over this. “Five?”
Garrett leaned forward and, in his best Mr. Rogers voice said, “Can you say huge mistake? I knew you could.”
This did nothing to clear things up for Detective Hanks, who made a dubious notation on his report and continued with his questions. “Why did you and the victim fight?”
“We didn’t fight. We had a mostly verbal disagreement in the bar when he accosted one of my friends.”
Hanks’ eyes widened in delight. Here was something he could work with. “Mostly verbal?”
“I might have punched him once.”
Hanks hunched over his report, the pitiful pencil clutched expectantly in his meaty fist. “Name?”
“Garrett Holcomb.”
Hanks blinked. He blinked again. Then he shook his massive head in disgust. He just couldn’t believe how stupid Garrett was. Garrett coughed to hide a smile.
“Not your name, sir. The friend’s name.”
“That’s not important.”
Hanks’ small, hazel eyes got a speculative glint. Even Neanderthals occasionally had a coherent thought. “Why are you protecting this friend?”
Garrett leaned forward. “Because she’s my friend.”
Hanks blinked again and his pencil drooped.
Garrett sat back in his chair. “I’d like to go now.”
Hanks shook his head. “I’m not done with you.”
Garrett sighed. He’d been afraid of that. Felicia’s lawyer friend would have made sure they held him as long as possible. To send him a message if nothing else. They had no evidence so they couldn’t arrest him. But they could make him suffer for twelve hours or so. “I’d like to make a phone call.”
“That won’t be necessary.”
Garrett and Hanks both looked up at the man who’d just arrived. Only one of them smiled.
Garrett stood up and extended his hand. “Guido. Nice to see you again.”
Gabriel Vitale was tall and slim, with an abundance of slick black hair that was combed back from his face, and a crooked nose that fit his Guido persona perfectly. His handsome face was unlined. The only sign of his fifty-some years was a touch of gray at his temples. His eyes were so dark they looked black and he used them like a weapon.
Guido was well-known for his ability to weaken a witness’s bladder on the stand just by fixing an intense, cold gaze on him. He was even better known for his ability to make witnesses cry under questioning.
Vitale shook Garrett’s hand. “I’m sorry to see you again under these circumstances, son. But I’m happy to help in any way I can.”
Garrett inclined his head. “I’d appreciate that, sir.”
Guido slapped Garrett on the shoulder and turned to Hanks. “I’d like to see the evidence against my client, officer.”
Hanks’ mouth dropped open and his eyes went blank. “Um. I can’t do that, Mr. Vitale.”
Guido Vitale went completely, perfectly still. His cold gaze fixed on Hanks for a full minute before he spoke again. Then he smiled.
Garrett was pretty sure he heard Detective Hanks whimper.
“I’ll be taking my client home now, Detective Hanks.”
Hanks’ massive head dipped in what could have been acquiescence. Garrett wasn’t sure Hanks even knew he’d nodded.
Guido didn’t wait for him to figure it out. He touched Garrett on the shoulder. “You ready, son?”
“I believe I am.”
* * * * *
When they arrived at the station, Felicia ran to Garrett and he wrapped his arms around her. She had been so scared that he’d be thrown into jail for that poor man’s beating.
Bruno shook his uncle’s hand. “Thanks, Unc. I owe ya one.”
“You do, yes. I’ll expect you to throw your golf game next Saturday to make me look good in front of your aunt.”
“That’s an awfully steep price, sir.”
“It is. But I’m a very well-paid lawyer. I’d say you got a bargain.”
Garrett reached a hand toward Guido Vitale. “I’d have to agree with that assessment, sir. Thank you for coming in tonight. It means a lot to me.”
Guido shook Garrett’s hand. “My pleasure, son. I hate to see people getting pushed around by arrogant assholes.”
Garrett lifted an eyebrow in surprise. “I guess you know Dave Foust?”
“Unfortunately.” He slapped Garrett on the back. “You young folks get out of here now.”
Brad grinned at Felicia, who was fighting a grin herself.
Bruno turned to his uncle. “Aren’t you coming?”
“No. I’m going to talk to a friend of mine. Chief Barris and I go way back. He’s gonna get to the bottom of this charge for me and put it to rest.”
* * * * *
They left Guido to his machinations and headed toward their cars. “Breakfast?” Bruno asked hopefully.
Felicia grimaced. “I just want to go home. I’m exhausted.”
They said goodbye to Bruno and Garrett dropped an arm around Felicia’s shoulders. “Let’s get out of here before they change their minds and come looking for me.”
Felicia was so tired she thought she might drop on the spot. She’d been operating on nothing but emotion for the last few hours and it was starting to wear on her. “Maybe you should stay at my house tonight, just in case.”
Garrett felt a moment of panic at the thought of spending the night among the trappings of wealth. But he quickly shook it off and kissed the top of her head. “Good idea.”
* * * * *
When Felicia woke up the next morning Garrett was sprawled all over the bed next to her. His thick, dark-gold lashes formed a perfect arch on each cheek and his lips were slightly parted as he snored softly.
He was sound asleep and he looked adorable.
She fought an urge to run her hands down his smooth chest, toward the telltale tenting of the sheet. She supposed he needed his rest. She had kept him up much of the night. She climbed out of bed. He was probably drained after what he’d gone through the night before.
Dave Foust was getting seriously out of hand. She needed to do something to stop him. The question was—what could she do?
Sighing, she pulled on yoga pants and a tight, stretchy tee and headed to the kitchen. She’d start her day the way she always did, with a glass of juice and a muscular power yoga workout. She fi
gured that by the time she’d showered, Garrett would be up and ready for breakfast…or something.
This happy thought carried her through the first twenty minutes of her hour-long workout. She was panting hard through her nose and had a nice sheen all over her body by the time the warm-up was over and the workout began.
She was in a muscle-straining, down dog position, and so deep into the zone that she didn’t even know he was there until she felt strong hands on her hips and something long and hard against her butt. “So this is how you stay in such great shape.”
Felicia started to stand up but he stopped her with a hand at the small of her back. “No, stay there, I like this position.” His hands skimmed the top of her loose-fitting pants and slid them down her hips. “I like it a lot.”
Her soft pants puddled around her ankles. Felicia felt the hard length of him against her exposed flesh. She groaned as he pulled her back to snuggle against his engorged cock.
“What’s this position called?” His voice was raspy with lust. He positioned himself between her thighs, the hard tip of his cock nudging gently into her.
She sucked in a breath. “Down dog.”
“I can’t back down right now, honey, I’m in heat.” He drove into her, hard and deep.
Felicia cried out with pleasure and deepened her dog to bring him farther into her body.
The instructor on the DVD told her to keep breathing.
Felicia was panting.
He told her to deepen the position and hold.
Felicia did as she was instructed.
He didn’t tell her to fall screaming into an orgasm. But she did that anyway.
Garrett groaned as her body milked his cock. He stopped moving and gritted his teeth, holding off his own release by sheer force of will.
When her body began to soften its hold on his cock, Garrett grabbed one of her thighs and lifted it, sliding his engorged shaft more deeply into her body.
Felicia reached between their legs and took his balls in a gentle fist, squeezing rhythmically as he slowly and steadily built the heat between them. Her thigh muscles were lean and taut from holding her balance and the skin beneath his hands was smooth and moist from her workout.
Garrett ran his hands over her dewy skin and slid beneath her light tee to find her unbound breasts. They filled his palms perfectly, a sensual weight in his hands.
He dragged his shaft from her tight channel and pulled her upright, capturing her soft lips in a hungry kiss. Felicia wrapped her arms around his waist and ran her soft hands over his butt, grinding her belly against his hard cock.
Garrett dropped to his knees and lifted her tee, pulling a rigid, brown nipple into his mouth as his fingers sought the moist entrance to her pussy. He inserted two fingers into the wet heat and found the nub of her clitoris with his thumb. Felicia moaned, deep and husky as his fingers fucked her silky channel.
His lips trailed down her belly, nipping and licking the exquisitely soft flesh, and replaced his fingers on her pussy. Felicia cried out as he covered her with his mouth, her hips arching and her hands tangling in his hair to urge him on.
Garrett inhaled her spicy scent, his cock jumping hungrily at the sweet, sensual aroma. He pulled the tiny bud of her clitoris into his mouth and sucked it, feeling her body tense against the start of her orgasm.
Giving her one final suck, Garrett pulled her down and covered her body with his, sliding his cock hard and deep into her already pulsing pussy and sending her screaming into release again.
He slammed into her several more times and then threw back his head and stiffened as his muscles locked into orgasm.
Felicia felt every jump of his hard flesh inside her body. She shivered under the aftershocks of her own orgasm and sighed as Garrett’s warm hands slid up her sides and cupped her breasts. He captured her mouth in a sweet, tender kiss.
“I’ll never be able to teach a yoga class again without getting a hard-on.”
Felicia made an outraged sound and smacked him. “You teach yoga? You cad! You know what down dog is!”
Chuckling, Garrett nuzzled her neck. “I just wanted to hear you say it.”
“Why?”
“So I could say, ‘Not now, bitch.’” He lifted off her. “You know, like a female dog?”
She giggled. “But you didn’t say it.”
He stood up and pulled her to her feet. “I chickened out.” Yanking her into his arms he placed a passionate kiss on her lips. “Now come on.” He reached to turn the television off. “You don’t need this hack to do yoga. I’ll teach you all my best moves.”
Felicia lifted an eyebrow at him. “That’s what I’m afraid of. Will I even work up a sweat with your workout?”
He favored her with a slow, knee melting smile. “Oh yeah. I guarantee you’ll be sweating…bitch.”
Felicia’s throaty laugh caused an immediate, strong reaction in Garrett.
She lowered her gaze to the place where he’d reacted best.
“Mmm, my favorite position,” she said. “Up dog.”
Chapter Eight
Garrett’s cell rang that afternoon as he was helping Felicia clean up the remains of a late lunch. They’d spent a wonderful day together, making love and talking. Garrett was feeling more relaxed than he had in a long time when he answered his phone. “Hello.”
“Why’d ya do it?” Giorgio’s voice was thick with hostility.
Garrett frowned. “Do what?”
“Don’t play stupid with me. I found your studio ID card in the middle of the mess. How could you have done this to us? Penelope’s been crying all morning. I’ve never seen her this upset.”
Garrett grabbed a towel and walked away from the sink. “Giorgio, buddy, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about. I spent the night with a friend. I haven’t been near the studio since you let me go.”
He felt Felicia’s presence and turned. She was frowning a question at him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head.
“You aren’t lyin’ to me, Garrett?”
“I swear to God I’m not lying, buddy. Now tell me what happened.”
Giorgio sighed audibly. “Somebody trashed the studio last night. Your studio is nearly destroyed. They pulled all the mats into the center of it and set them on fire. The smoke in the place was toxic. One of the cleaning crew who came in this morning has been taken to the hospital.” Giorgio’s voice broke. “I don’t know how we’ll recover from this. There could be lawsuits…”
“I’ll be right there.” Garrett hung up and gave Felicia a quick kiss on the lips. “I need to go.”
“What’s wrong, Garrett? Who was that?”
“My old employer, at the yoga studio. Giorgio gave me my start as an instructor. We go back a long way…” Garrett let the words trail away, shaking his head. “Someone trashed the studio last night. He thought it was me.” He turned to her and there was such pain in his eyes.
Felicia reached up and laid a hand on his cheek. “I want to go with you.”
“Let’s go.”
* * * * *
From the outside the studio looked much the same as it always had. Fire trucks still sat at the curb, lights flashing and hoses coiled like rice noodles in a puddle-riddled parking lot.
But as soon as Garrett and Felicia entered the studio he noticed the smell. It was the smell of burnt rubber.
“You can’t be in here!” A firefighter hurried toward them, a mask over his face. “The air is toxic in here, folks.”
Garrett held up a hand. “I’m looking for the owner and the manager.”
The man jerked his head. “They’re out back with the EMTs.”
“Thanks.”
Garrett took Felicia’s arm and pulled her gently back outside. They walked around the side of the building to the back lot, where the employees parked. It was the closest lot to the yoga studios.
The EMT van was just pulling out of the lot when they rounded the corner of the building. Giorgio and
Penelope were standing alone, watching the van leave. Giorgio had his arm around Penelope’s shoulders and was rubbing her arm briskly. They both turned as Felicia and Garrett walked up.
Penelope looked angry. Giorgio looked like he wasn’t sure how to greet them.
Garrett walked over to Penelope and pulled her into a hug. She held herself stiffly at first, but then started crying and hugged him back. “Pene, you know I’d never do this.”
She sobbed once and then pulled away to wipe her face with her sleeve. “I didn’t want to believe it, Garrett. But the graffiti…” She sniffed. “You’re the only one we’ve fired in over a year…” She looked at the ground and rubbed her arms, obviously uncomfortable.
Garrett glanced toward the building, “Graffiti? Where? In the studio?”
“Yes.” Giorgio’s hands were shaking. He shoved them into his pockets. Garrett had never seen him so upset.
“What did it say?”
Penelope glanced at the studio manager. Giorgio looked at his shoes.
“Tell me, Giorgio.”
“All fired up and no place to go.”
Garrett swore softly. “I promise you, Penelope. Whoever did this is not going to get away with it. I’ll make sure of that.”
Penelope was crying again.
Felicia made a small sound and Garrett turned to look at her. She had tears in her eyes. “What’s the matter, honey?”
“Why didn’t you tell me Dave got you fired?”
Garrett opened his mouth to respond but the words wouldn’t come. He’d been afraid she’d run. And looking into her eyes at that moment, he was pretty sure he’d been right to be afraid.
Felicia turned away from him. She looked panicked. He knew what she was probably thinking. Things were way out of control. Dave Foust was ruining their lives. And she felt responsible because Foust was her friend.
“Felicia…” Garrett wrapped his arms around her from behind.
She jerked away. “No! This is all my fault. All of it.” She turned to Penelope and Giorgio. “I’m so sorry!” She walked briskly away, toward the front of the building.
Garrett called after her. “It’s not your fault, honey. It’s that damn lawyer’s fault!”