by Aliyah Burke
“Jeez, guess I can’t get between you and your dessert.”
“Heck no. I love my sweets. I don’t indulge much, but when I do, not so much into the whole sharing aspect.”
He shook his head. “Rude.”
“Perhaps, but I ain’t sharing. And at least I’m honest about it.” She made a big production about licking off her fork.
Vic gave her a wicked grin. “Now, I know why he’s happy with you. I see that sucking action you have there.”
“Vic!”
He laughed and winked at the waitress who stood there pouring them more drinks. Allie wanted to bury her head in the sand.
Instead, she met the blonde’s gaze and shrugged. “This is why I don’t take him out much. He isn’t well behaved in public.”
The woman looked at her and gave a small smile. “I’m going to side with him, that kind of sucking action is impressive.” She ran her gaze up Allie before she walked off.
Allie stared at Vic. “You did hear that, right?”
“Fuck, yeah. Oh, my God. I want to watch the two of you together. Hell, I want to join in.” He reached for his ice water and held the glass up to his neck. “That imagery is getting me all kinds of hot.”
“Only me, I come to Outback and get hit on.”
Vic laughed. “Don’t knock it until you try it.”
“If that’s your thing, Vic, more power to you, but I’m greedy. I don’t like to share.”
“More makes it merrier.”
She ate the last bite of her cake and dropped the fork with a contented groan. “If you say so.”
She had enough trouble with one man; she sure as heck didn’t need to invite any more bodies into the mix. Male or female.
They chatted a bit longer then left, her with the waitress’s number in her pocket and Vic telling her she should give it a try. Relaxing back in the seat in his SUV, she blew out a breath.
“Can you send me the info you found on the school when you get home tonight, Vic?”
“I already did. You need to check your email more.” A brief pause. “Or even at all. When was the last time you were on your computer?”
“A few weeks.”
“Christ, woman. Daily, you need to be on there daily.”
“Why? I don’t talk to people other than you, and I see you nearly every day.”
He pulled into her building’s lot and parked before the door, allowing his vehicle to idle. She undid her belt but didn’t leave, waiting for him to say something.
“Allie,” Vic said.
“Thanks for dinner, Vic, and for being a friend.”
He reached out and captured her chin. Allie sat frozen; he wasn’t the touchy feely kind of guy. Not with her.
“Forgive him.”
With those words echoing in her ears, she slid out and walked to the door. As she opened it, she glanced back over her shoulder at him. He touched the brim of his cap then drove off.
“Forgive him?” she scoffed. “Not likely.” Still, regardless of that decision, she replayed Vic’s words of advice as she went to her room and shut herself behind the door.
What harm would it do to forgive him? Would it change who she was now? Make her plans any different? Not likely. But she wouldn’t be carrying around all this anger and hurt. She spun around and opened the door a crack, only to freeze.
A beautiful black woman was walking into his place.
A week, it had been a week since she yelled at him. Perhaps he had moved on to something that was real. And perhaps now it was time for her to do so as well. Shutting the door, she squeezed her eyes against the pain that filled her. She rested her head against the wood and allowed herself a moment of self-pity wallowing. Just a moment, however, because she couldn’t blame him. She was the one who had slammed the door on their relationship. Fuck-buddy status, whatever it was they had.
Chapter Six
Boston, Massachusetts
“Thanks for the advice, Jack. I’m there, and about to do this now.”
“You got it, Lights. See you when you get back.”
Dale shoved his phone in his back pocket and climbed out of the taxi. “I’ll be right back; this won’t take long,” he said to the driver. Staring up at the large Cape Cod-style home before him, he sighed. It was impressive but the feeling he got from it was colder than the wind whipping unforgivingly around him.
He strode up the walkway to the front door and rang the bell.
A woman in a maid outfit answered. “Yes?”
“May I speak to either Mr. or Mrs. Sumani, please?”
“Who may I say is calling on them?”
“Flight Leftenant Dale Curtayn.” He smoothed a hand down over his heavyweight blue-gray great coat.
“Yes, sir.” She closed the door, and he waited, gazing around the neighborhood. He was being watched; he knew that. It was a feeling one learned to recognize out in the field, helped you stay alive.
The door opened again, and she waved him in. “They will see you in the receiving room.”
He walked silently across floors so shiny he could see his reflection in them. There was no character in this place. All statues and pictures. Just props. He didn’t feel life flowing through the walls as he did in Allie’s place.
The maid silently opened a door, and he stepped through. A couple sat there. The man, in the largest chair, positioned to make him look to be in power. Beside him and slightly behind, sat a woman who had a niqab covering her face and a hijab.
“Can I help you?”
“Forgive my intrusion on you this afternoon. I am sorry to disturb you. I’ve come to talk to you about your daughter.”
The man drew back slightly. “You know my Tidir? How do you know her?”
“Not her. Allie.”
“I have only one daughter.”
Dale clenched his jaw. “Fine, claim what you want but we both know you have another daughter who is named Alimaia. You know, when you disclaimed her, ten years ago because she had moved in with a man then got kicked out, that man was me. I don’t know if you knew who I was, since you never came to our place to meet me, and I wasn’t welcome here. I made a mistake. Your daughter didn’t cheat on me. She’d never been anything less than faithful. All she wanted was to come home and find love when I wasn’t smart enough or good enough to give it to her.”
He tugged on his glove. “Since then, I’ve grown up, gotten wiser, smarter. You, sir, are a failure of the greatest order for turning your back on your daughter. You, as well, ma’am. I want you to know, I’ve found her again, and I am going to win her back and marry her. Give her the love she so rightfully deserves. Had you just given her a chance, I’m sure you would have been proud of the woman she’s become. That’s all I had to say.” He turned away, only to pivot back. “Not true. I wanted to thank you for showing me how to be a better man. Because of your actions for my foolishness, you’ve shown me the type of man I never want to be. Cold and judgmental. Unforgiving of my own flesh and blood. You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
Without another word, Dale walked out the front door, not even waiting for the maid to open it for him. A cold rain had moved in, and he blinked away the drops as they sliced sideways into his exposed skin. He climbed into the backseat and said, “Airport.”
Closing his eyes as the cabbie did as he’d requested, Dale tried to figure out how he was going to convince Allie to give them another shot. He wasn’t the foolish boy he’d been then. Nor was he the arrogant pilot who thought himself untouchable. The missions he’d been on and the people he’d worked with had changed him.
“Here you are, sir.”
He sat forward, paying the man, then slipped from the backseat. Not in a rush, he meandered past security through to his gate and sat down near the window. He tried calling Allie a few times but it went straight to voicemail. His best bet was she was at work. She didn’t answer her phone, unless it was her boss, at work. Something he admired about her. She threw all she had into the job, giving those
she worked so hard to save an even better chance at survival.
αβ
“Ma’am, please, calm down and let me do my job.”
“I’m fucking bleeding here,” she screeched. “I’ll die if you don’t hurry your black ass up and stop it.”
Allie bit the inside of her cheek and continued to work on the woman lying on the stretcher. The laceration was deep but she would be fine. “Let’s go, Vic,” she called up to her partner. He put them on the road to the hospital.
Applying pressure to slow the bleeding, Allie added more gauze when the blood seeped through. “The ER is expecting us, and they will get you all stitched up.”
The woman lying there, cursing, had on a skintight outfit. Animal print. Always eye opening when people wore it as she was.
“I don’t have time to go to the hospital.”
“Sorry, ma’am. That’s where we’re going. You asked for our help; we’re taking you there.”
“Can’t you do it?”
“This is a deep laceration you have here. It’s pointless for me to stitch it shut if they have to open it back up to save you from some nerve damage.” Her patience was wearing thin. As a general rule, they didn’t do stitches.
The woman, Marcia, sat up then fell back with a groan. “I was supposed to be going to a job interview.”
“I’m sure if you call them and explain the situation they will understand. Lie still, please.”
That’s how the remainder of the ride went to the emergency room. They wheeled her in, transferred her to a gurney there and let the nurses take over. Vic looked at her and laughed.
“A job interview?”
She snorted trying not to join him. “Hey, I hear zebra is making a comeback.”
“But with giraffe?”
She used the stretcher to keep her upright, she was laughing so hard. “I don’t have anything else to say. Other than with stilettos, everything is possible.”
“I want to see you pull that off. Gods, what was she interviewing for?”
“Maybe that’s all she had to wear.” She knew what it was like to be nervous for a job interview. Granted, she wasn’t wearing a zebra and another of its African animal brethren but still.
They squared away the back of the ambulance and got back out on the road. “Allie, this is dispatch.”
She reached for the mike. “Go ahead, what’s up?”
“That little boy, Simon, called for you.”
She shared a look with Vic. Simon was a child who she’d seen a few too many times thanks to his “falling” at home. “Did he give you a message to pass along?” Dread filled her gut.
“Yes, he said that if you had time to stop by and see him he’d like that very much.”
“Thanks.”
“You got it, hon.”
She didn’t give out her cell or home number so this boy called the station and left messages for her.
“Don’t even ask. I’m on my way,” Vic said, changing lanes instantly.
αβ
Dale sat on the outside stoop. Around him, the hues denoting autumn offered up their coppers, reds, oranges to the golden aura the sun posted. Today was an Indian summer, and he would have loved nothing more than to take a walk around the lake and enjoy the weather.
With Allie.
Therein lay his problem. He’d not had more than a passing view of her since her blow up. He didn’t believe she was avoiding him for she looked harried when he spied her as she ran to or from the building.
This was the day all that shit ended. Gambit had said it best when they’d talked about Dale having Allie in his life. He’d said, “It could happen again.”
“Damn right it can.”
He couldn’t say for sure when the want had segued into a vibrant need for her to be there always. It was so raw and visceral, a living breathing entity. Sometime during the months of just sex, he got to see the true Allie. When she allowed the cuddling. Or she slept in his arms.
He’d lie there and watch her. The rise and fall of her chest, the way she breathed out through her lips and they parted slightly, offering up a temptation he never wanted to refuse.
Her old Honda turned into the parking lot, and he lifted his head a bit more, waiting for her. She climbed out and tossed her pack over one shoulder. With a hip swing, she shut the car door and finally started heading toward him, her head buried in a book. Or tablet. He wasn’t sure from this distance.
He rose to his feet the nearer she came. “Allie,” he said.
She became rooted to the spot three paces from the bottom of the steps. Her head jerked up, and she stared at him, those melted chocolate eyes wide. He snorted when she looked around as if she’d be able to escape him.
“Come on,” he said, approaching her and holding out his hand.
Wariness crept in. “I’m sorry?”
“Come on,” he repeated, taking her hand, gripping it when she pulled away. “You and I are going to have a chat.
“I don’t need a chat, thank you very much.”
“Tough shit. I do.” He led her back inside. His lips curved up in a grin at the not-so-silent muttering she did behind him.
Three others were waiting at the elevator, and he refused to release her hand, instead, intertwining their fingers. His look dared her to say a word. Hers promised retribution. When they walked out of the elevator, he dipped his head and gave her a quick kiss.
“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed at him.
“You look mad enough to kick me,” he said, unlocking his door and swinging it open.
“I am. And not in the ankle.”
His wince was involuntary but he couldn’t help it. The thought of someone kicking him in the balls wasn’t a pleasant one.
“Be nice, Allie.”
“I don’t have to.”
She dug in and refused to move much past the door so he released an exasperated breath and lifted her. Carried her to his couch and dropped her without warning.
“Ah, shit!” she screamed. “That”—she bounded up—“not at all nice.”
“Sit.” She crossed her arms. He pointed at the sofa. “Sit. Down. Allie.”
“I’m not a dog.”
“No, but you’re being a bitch. Let me talk.”
Flames licked her eyes. “Nowhere does it say I have to listen to you. This could be kidnapping.”
That was it. He strode over to her, lowered his shoulder and lifted. With her dangling, he carried her back to his bedroom.
“Damn it, Dale! Put me down.”
“No, you had your chance. If you’re going to piss and moan about me kidnapping you, at least let me tie you up.” He dumped her unceremoniously on the bed. Moments later, she struggled against the bindings he had on her ankles and wrists. “Now, I’m keeping you tied up. Listen to me, Allie or so help me, I’ll gag you as well.”
She clenched her jaw but didn’t speak. He whirled around and prayed to calm down so he could do this right. Already, it wasn’t working. But, he knew her well enough to know she would have gone straight for the door.
Facing her again, he toed off his shoes. With slow, deliberate movements, he approached the bed. When he braced his hands on the mattress, her body rolled toward him from the added weight, the bindings restraining her movements more than a tiny bit.
“I talk, you listen. And, if you want to leave when you’ve heard me out, I’ll let you go.”
“Get on with it then.”
God, that cutting tone, it could castrate a man, and yet on the other hand, it made him hard as fuck. She played so hard at being a good girl she hid her true passion and vigor for life. Her full lips beckoned him, and he shoved back, nearly stumbling as he went to grab a chair.
Sitting by her head, he rubbed his palms on his thighs. There she lay. Spread out for him. Her breasts pushing up against the material of her shirt. Her belt highlighting the tuck of her waist and flare of her hips.
“I know all my apologies for what I did in the Billy sit
uation can’t make up for the hell you went through. I’ve gone to your parents and told them it was my fault. I don’t know if they will change their mind about you or not, but now, they know again it wasn’t on you, but me.”
Her eyes widened briefly. He paused, giving her a moment to speak if she wanted but her mouth remained in an unforgiving line.
“You know I’m a pilot. I was when we met ten years ago. I made it to Flight Leftenent. I still am but I’m not with the RAF anymore. I work with an elite group called Zulu Spectre. There are eight of us in all, and I’m not supposed to tell anyone about this because it’s a secret. I’m telling you because I want you, Allie. I want to be with you, marry you, watch you carry and deliver our children.”
Yep, shocked her again. Her mouth moved but still she didn’t say a word.
“I won’t be able to tell you about all the missions but I will tell you everything I can about what I do and where I go. I work with six men and one woman who all want very much to meet you. I am in love with you, Allie. I don’t care if you want to go back to wearing a hijab and embracing your Muslim roots again. I want you. I think that’s part of why I listened to Billy those years ago. What I was feeling for you scared me, and it was easier for me to make you out to be the bad guy than to face them. It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done. You’ve never done anything for me to not trust you, and I will—if you let me—work for the rest of my life to earn yours back.”
He moved in the chair, refusing to let himself touch her. This had to be about talking. Not touching. Not kissing. Not making love. Talking.
She watched him, eyes nearly unblinking.
“That’s it. I’m done. That’s what I wanted to tell you.”
Her face was expressionless. “Untie me.”
He did and watched as she sat up, rubbing her wrists and rotating her ankles. He wanted her to say something else. Anything. But she didn’t say a single word. Not for a while, anyway.
“You know, I was out with Vic a while ago at Outback, and after I got hit on by our waitress, he said something to me that has taken a while to sink in.”
“Your waitress hit on you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Why do guys always pick up on that bit?”