by M. S. Parker
“You have a beautiful family,” I said sincerely.
The longer I looked at the picture, the more I wondered what it would look like if it was me standing there. Not with Lizann, but with Cheyenne. To have her standing next to me, looking at me the way Lizann was looking at Donny. To have kids with her. A house. A real home.
“What about you?” she asked as she picked up her chopsticks. “No ring, but you’ve never been one to follow convention.”
I started to shake my head and tell her that I was single and would never settle down, the same line I’d always given, but then I realized that wasn’t the truth anymore. Cheyenne and I hadn’t talked about defining our relationship, but I didn’t need to know what label we’d give ourselves to know that I was hers. I just hoped she was mine.
“Interesting,” Lizann said with a smile. “Slade Hunter tied up in knots over a woman. I never thought I’d see the day. Who is she?”
“Her name’s Cheyenne Lamont, and I’m crazy about her.” I’d forgotten how easy it was to talk to Lizann. “She’s one of the strongest people I’ve ever met.”
“Do you have a picture?”
I shook my head. “I’m still not much for pictures.”
“Then I guess you’re going to have to describe her to me.” She pointed her chopsticks at me. “And don’t even think about leaving anything out.”
I knew better than to cross her. Junior year of high school, I’d done something stupid – I couldn’t even remember what it was – and she’d gone off on me in the middle of the hallway. I wouldn’t put it past her now to smack my hand with her chopsticks if she thought I was holding back.
I started at the beginning, telling her the truth about how Cheyenne and I met and went from there. The words came flooding out, like I’d had it all stored up inside me, just waiting for the right listener. With Lizann, I didn’t have to worry about compromising my position at the DEA like I would’ve with Ramon or Joey, and no matter how great it had been to talk to Jax, I still felt the need to hold back with my brothers. The only thing I did keep to myself were the sexual details. No matter how comfortable I felt with my ex, discussing me spanking the woman I was in love with was one step too far.
“That poor girl,” Lizann said. She reached across the table and put her hand on mine. “I can’t imagine what she’s been through, but she’s so fortunate to have you on her side.”
“Thanks,” I said. “It hasn’t been easy.”
She smiled. “Just because it’s real doesn’t mean it’s going to be easy.” She withdrew her hand. “When I first met Donny, he was convinced he’d never want to get married or have kids. A serious relationship, sure, but the break-up of his parents’ marriage had soured him on the entire concept. And you know how I feel about marriage.”
I did.
She was raised by a single mother, believing that her father had been a soldier who’d died overseas before she was born. When she was sixteen, she found out the truth. Her father lived three streets over…with his ‘real’ family. He’d been married when he’d gotten involved with Lizann’s mother, and he’d given Miss Raiser the classic cliché about how he’d leave his wife and kids for her. She’d truly thought he would be happy when she told him she was pregnant. He’d asked her if the baby was even his, and then told her to ‘get rid of it.’ He hadn’t stuck around to see what happened next.
Instead of souring her on marriage, it’d reinforced Lizann’s belief that she wasn’t going to waste her time on a relationship that wasn’t heading toward the altar.
That was one of the top reasons she and I broke up. I’d been all about leaving Boston and not having the burden of my family weighing me down anymore. Lizann had wanted roots, even if she moved out of Massachusetts.
“I don’t know Cheyenne,” Lizann said as she pulled a couple bills from her wallet. “But I do know one thing. If you had talked about me the way you talk about her, we never would have broken up.”
I frowned. “We broke up because we wanted different things.”
“That’s true, but if I’d thought you loved me half as much as you love her, I would’ve given up everything just to be with you.”
Well, damn.
Twenty-Eight
Cheyenne
Common sense said I didn’t have a real reason to be upset. Sure, Slade and I had gone on a lunch date, but we’d ended up hooking up in the bathroom. And yes, he’d come over the other night because I’d needed him, but he left before I’d woken up. Somehow, that felt to me more like we were fuck-buddies than anything else. Fuck-buddies who hadn’t discussed anything about being exclusive.
My stomach turned as I remembered how it felt to wake up alone. He’d left a note explaining that he hadn’t thought I’d want Austin to see him there. On the surface, it had seemed like a sweet thing to do, thinking of my little brother, but the more I thought about it, the more I remembered my mom telling Resa not to read too much into the things men did. Things we thought were to show us how they felt were really to either get something from us or placate us.
He’d texted me a few times since then, but it’d felt more like he was checking in to make sure I was okay out of some sense of obligation. There hadn’t been anything personal in any of the messages.
Still, I’d allowed myself to hope, and now I regretted that more than anything.
I scrubbed at my cheeks with my hands as I stopped at the crosswalk. I still had a few more places to put in applications, and no one wanted a pink-haired girl with red eyes. Besides, I didn’t need to be crying over Slade. I was the one who’d made assumptions.
Foolish, foolish, assumptions.
The woman at the restaurant looked more like the sort of woman he should be with anyway. Cute, but in an adult way. She had a sweet face and a nice smile, and I hoped that both of those were sincere.
I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t concentrate on filling out the same information over and over. Not when I kept seeing the two of them together, laughing and smiling. Her hand on his arm.
I never should have let him so close.
I hurried across the street, wanting to put as much distance between me and them as possible. I passed two stores with Help Wanted signs but didn’t even slow down. I’d left Estrada with Austin this afternoon, and a part of me wanted to go straight back to the apartment and be with them. I’d have Estrada to talk to about Slade, and Austin would have both of us there.
Except talking to her about how messed up my head was about Slade would mean giving her the sort of details about my life that I didn’t want her to know. She was a wonderful person, but I’d always known that I couldn’t let her see the dangerous things I had to do to keep Austin safe and happy. I knew there was a difference between waiting tables at DDD and stripping on stage, but I wasn’t so sure she’d see it the same way. She wouldn’t let me keep justifying the deliveries I was making.
There was only one person I could think of who I could tell everything to, and she wouldn’t judge me. Resa. The closest thing to an older sister I’d ever had.
I climbed onto the closest bus and took the seat right behind the driver. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with shitty people today. It might’ve been the seat, or it might’ve been the fact that I was wearing plain black pants and a simple powder blue blouse, but no one bothered me. What would that be like, I wondered? Working in a place where I could file a complaint with human resources or a manager if a guy grabbed my ass.
By the time I arrived at the house, I was ready to turn around and go back. Except I didn’t know where I could go back to. I knocked on the door, realizing only just then that I should’ve brought something for Resa for intervening the other night. Things would’ve ended badly for me if she hadn’t been there.
Lacey opened the door, rolled her eyes, and then turned away, leaving the door open behind her. I took that as an invitation and walked inside. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting the inside of the house to look like in the middle of the day, but apparent
ly, it was identical to the way it looked the other times I’d been there. Girls in the main room to the left, flirting with guys who were here for some afternoon delight.
A quick glance around told me that Resa wasn’t downstairs, which meant she was either not in the house at all, or she was upstairs, with or without a client. The way I saw it, I had three choices: give up and go home, start yelling for Resa, or go upstairs and start opening doors.
“Where’s the package?” Seleste sounded royally pissed as she came out of her office.
“I’m not here for Fernando,” I said quickly. “I want to talk to Resa. Is she upstairs?”
Seleste looked down at me, her expression unreadable. I lifted my chin and met her gaze. I was not in the mood to be intimidated today.
“Keith!” She didn’t look away as she called out a name. A few seconds later, a massive bald man with a neck tattoo came out of her office and lumbered down the hall toward us.
Shit.
“This young lady would like to see one of our girls. Take her to Resa’s room.”
Somehow, I didn’t think that she was having me escorted so I didn’t get lost. I took a step backward. “If she’s busy, I’ll come back later.”
“No, you won’t,” Seleste said with a tight smile. “You have perfect timing, Miss Lamont. I was just on the phone with your employer, and he told me that the next time you showed up, I was to keep you here. I was planning on sending someone with a message later today if necessary, but you showed up without me needing to do that. Thank you. I would’ve hated to have another one of my girls out of commission.”
I was still trying to process her little announcement when Keith grabbed me. His hand was so large that it wrapped around my entire upper arm.
Seleste moved close enough for me to smell the lavender soap she used. “I will only say this one time, so be sure you listen. You’re going to be staying here for a while. How long will be entirely up to your friend. Fernando intends to use you to keep the DEA off his back. Once he delivers his message, the DEA will have two days to back off. If they don’t, you’ll start working for me. And I promise you, by the end of the first night, you’ll wish you’d fucked Fernando the first time he approached you.”
I opened my mouth to tell her that would never happen, but something on her face told me that she’d make good on her threat.
“Try not to bruise her,” she said to Keith. “But if she tries to get away, you have permission to get a little rough.”
Judging by the grin on Keith’s face, a little rough meant something different to him than it did to me. I didn’t want to find out how much different. I let him drag me up the stairs, stumbling as I struggled to keep up. I wasn’t about to complain though. He looked like he’d use any excuse to hurt me.
What they didn’t know was that their plan wasn’t going to work. Slade might’ve wanted to go on a date or two with me, but he wouldn’t compromise an investigation to put someone like Fernando out of business. Not for me. It wasn’t just because of his career either. I knew as well as Slade did what it would mean to keep things as they were. He was too good of a man to do that.
We passed a couple doors, then stopped. He shoved open the door to our right, then pushed me inside. I nearly tripped, and by the time I regained my balance, he’d closed the door and left me alone.
“Chey?”
Or not alone.
I turned, and it took me a moment to realize that the battered figure in the bed was someone I knew.
“Resa?”
Twenty-Nine
Slade
I was going to call her.
No, I needed to give her space.
But if I gave her too much space, she might think that I didn’t want to be with her.
Or, if I came on too strong, I might scare her away, and I didn’t want to do that.
Maybe a text would be okay. It’d let her know that I was thinking about her, but not require the same sort of time commitment that a phone call would.
Except I’d already texted her today. This morning to tell her that I was going to lunch with an old friend, but that I’d like to have dinner with her tonight. Then once after lunch to ask her how she was doing with her applications. Then again to tell her how my lunch had gone. I’d waited for a while, but when I hadn’t heard back from her, I’d texted again to say that she could call if she preferred.
Still, nothing.
Now, I’d moved beyond wanting to hear from her to worrying about why I hadn’t heard from her.
Was it possible that she was ignoring me? She hadn’t seemed upset or angry before, and I’d hoped that we’d established enough trust that she’d come to me if something was wrong.
I’d tried a dozen different things to distract me, including going for a run, push-ups, sit-ups, and a cold shower. Now, I was aimlessly flipping through television channels, trying to find something worth watching.
My phone rang, and I dropped the remote, grabbing for my phone, breathing a sigh of relief when I saw Cheyenne’s name on the caller ID.
“Chey, hey, I was getting worried about you.”
“Is this Slade Hunter?”
It was a woman, but not Cheyenne.
“Yes. Who are you?” Okay, that came out a bit blunt, but that little alarm in my head that had been saying something was blaring now.
“My name’s Estrada Torres.”
“You’re the babysitter,” I cut in. “Sorry. Cheyenne’s told me about you. I didn’t mean to be rude. I just haven’t heard from Cheyenne at all today.”
“I haven’t either,” she said. “She left this morning to go put in job applications, but she was supposed to be back some time after lunch. She still isn’t back.”
“But you have her phone.”
“She left it on the counter,” Estrada said. “I didn’t even realize it until I went to make Austin and me some lunch. It didn’t seem like a big deal until it got later and later…”
I was up on my feet, pacing, but I barely noticed that I was moving. “Was she working at the club tonight?”
“No,” Estrada said. “And she always lets me know if there’s a change in her schedule.”
“But she doesn’t have her phone.”
She laughed softly. “Does Cheyenne strike you as someone who would let a little thing like not having a phone keep her from making sure her brother is safe?”
“Good point,” I said wryly. “Did she tell you what stores she was going to? I can start there.”
“She didn’t,” Estrada said, and I could hear the worry in her voice, “but I don’t think that’s the problem.”
She was right. Cheyenne didn’t just lose track of time when she had her brother at home, waiting for her. Everything in her entire world revolved around Austin. The only reasonable explanation as to why Cheyenne wasn’t home was that something was keeping her from getting there.
“I think you’re right,” I said. “Are you okay to stay with Austin a little longer?”
“I can stay as long as I’m needed.” She sniffed, and after a pause, she added, “Please just bring her home, Mr. Hunter.”
“I will.”
In a normal situation, I would’ve called hospitals, but my instincts told me that this wasn’t a normal thing. This was a Fernando thing. I’d bet my trust fund on it.
I pocketed my phone and headed for the door. I had a strip club to visit.
“I wondered how long it would take you to get here.”
I wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off his face, but I had to be smart about this.
“I’m guessing that means you know where Cheyenne is,” I said as I leaned against the doorframe.
Fernando nodded. “I do. And you’re not going to do anything stupid while I tell you how this is gonna work.”
I smiled, but it wasn’t my nice smile or my charming smile. No, this was the smile I reserved for asshole criminals. I could handle myself in a fight, but that wasn’t what made me a great agent.
What made me good at what I did was that most thugs assumed that I was a dumb jock. Underestimating me was usually what put men like Fernando into prison.
“How is this going to work then?”
“Real simple.” He leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest. “You’re gonna get the DEA and the FBI off my ass. I don’t give a fuck how you do it, and I don’t wanna hear how it’s impossible. Get it done, or she pays the price.”
He knew who I was. I supposed it was my own fault. I hadn’t exactly been keeping my relationship with Cheyenne under the radar. And I’d been here more than once. It’d been stupid of me, but there was no use beating myself up over it now. It was done.
“How do I know you haven’t hurt her?” I kept my voice even, but I didn’t think for a moment it fooled Fernando. The fact that he was blackmailing me meant he somehow knew how I felt about her.
He stood up and came toward me, holding out a phone. On the screen was a live feed into a bedroom where Cheyenne sat on a bed next to someone who’d been badly beaten. She looked familiar and judging by the way Cheyenne was stroking the woman’s hair, they knew each other.
“She’ll be safe for two days, but if you don’t come through…” he smirked before licking his lips, “I’ll let you imagine what I’m going to do to her. Or you can just pay for a piece of her like you did before.”
I didn’t say anything because there wasn’t anything to say. He could have just used me paying him for that night with Cheyenne as blackmail. It wasn’t like I’d paid him in cash. I’d left a trail that’d be easy enough to follow if anyone wanted to.
He’d chosen to go after Cheyenne because he wanted her, and I’d had her, which meant he wanted to hurt both of us.
I had to do whatever it took to get her back and make her safe.
But not tonight. Tonight, I knew what she’d want me to do.
Protect her brother.
Thirty