by Kasey Lane
“I really will tell her you called, Ms. Alvarez.” He hesitated. “Are you still in treatment?”
He heard a long sigh on the other end of the call. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
“Then why all the theatrics about dropping by?”
“Old habits. I don’t know.” She laughed quietly, hollowly. “Sometimes I forget how to just say what needs to be said.”
“I hear ya. I used to be the same.”
“So how is my daughter…uh, what’s your name again, son?”
“Bowen. And she’s fine.” He glanced up and saw Gabby marching back to the car with a fierce scowl on her pretty face, and fire practically trailing behind her as she ran at him. “I gotta go. I’ll let her know you called.”
He hung up wondering whether Gabby’s mom really was where she said she was or if she had already dropped out like Gabby had expected her to. Was she already angling for a way to find Gabby and get what she could from her before running off? Or maybe she’d found a good program and was trying to make a better life. Like him.
“Is that my phone? Who were you talking to?” Gabby demanded when she reached him. She snatched the phone from him and grabbed her car keys.
“It was your mom, grabby hands. And before you freak out, I answered because I thought it might be an emergency.”
“It’s always an emergency with Alma,” she snapped. “What did she want?”
“Tell me where you’re going first.” He stood between her and the car door as she tried to shove him out of the way.
“No. Move.” She ducked under his arm, but he grabbed her by the shoulders.
“What’s going on with you? Can we please talk?”
“Fine. I haven’t worked out in almost a week. I’m going to the gym.” Her body was stiff under his hands. He couldn’t resist massaging his fingers into her shoulders, hoping she’d relax a little and they could talk about the tour and her bombshell.
“Gabby, it’s ten at night. Let’s go inside and talk. Please.”
“What did my mom want?”
“She wanted to see how you were.”
“Is she still at the treatment center?”
“I think so.”
“What does that mean?” she asked, suspicion lacing her tone.
“She said she was.”
“But you didn’t believe her?” Her hands drifted to his chest. He hid a smile. She probably didn’t even realize her fingers were playing with the zipper on his jacket.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” He let his hand drift up to the back of her neck and threaded his fingers through her hair. He loved the way her softness contrasted so perfectly with his callouses and scars. “She sounded weird. I mean, I don’t know what she normally sounds like, but at one point, I swear it sounded like she was slurring.”
Gabby sighed and tilted her head back into his hand. “I’m so tired, Bowen.”
“I know, sweetheart,” he said and swept her into his arms. Satisfaction filled him when she didn’t struggle. He kicked the car door shut with his boot and took them to the apartment.
After he changed into sweats and she washed her face and put her annoyingly hot pajamas on, she flopped on the couch. Bowen set down two cups of hot tea and sat next to her where she sat cross-legged, fiddling with that charm on her necklace.
“I can’t live here.”
He blew the top of his cup. The steam dissipated momentarily before forming into little spikes again. “Why?”
She rolled her eyes and stared at him, her green eyes dark and calm. “Pick a reason. I have a record. You need to stay out of trouble. I have a life. So do you. I have a loon stalking me. My mom is crazy. Jesus, Bowen, pick a fucking reason.”
“I can talk to my PO. You’re not trouble. You’re as boring as me…always pecking away at your computer and watching your nerd shows. I think we’re pretty good roommates.” He tried to get her to smile, but her mouth stayed in a grim line.
“Is that what we are? Come on. This is going to have to end. We’re both fucked up. It’s not like we could ever be a couple. You don’t want that and neither do I.”
Of course not. He didn’t have anything to offer someone like Gabby. His recovery, his work, and his music took everything he had. But he couldn’t deny how much he looked forward to holding her at night and bringing her crabby ass coffee every morning. He liked the companionship, the routine of their life the past couple weeks.
“No. But I like having you around. And I want to keep you safe. I don’t like having that lunatic out there.”
Her shoulders slumped, deflated. Maybe she didn’t feel the same way. Maybe she really didn’t want him around anymore. “I’m not your responsibility. I don’t need—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You don’t need anyone to take care of you. No one, especially me, thinks you can’t take care of yourself, Gabby. Maybe I want to help.”
He set his cup down on the coffee table and took both her hands in his, positioning his body toward hers. “Conner wants me to go on tour with the band and Pagan Saints just for a couple of months. Until he’s healed enough to join them. Joe and the band showed up at the hospital to give me the details and to let me know they all wanted me on tour.”
“What did you say?” Instead of pulling her hands away, she gripped his tighter. He was surprised to find he liked it. Liked her wanting to be closer to him. “When do you leave?”
“I said I needed some time to think about it.” He shifted, lifting her into his lap and settling her ass over his already semi-hard dick.
“Bowen…” she said, dragging his name out.
“What? I do. Look, it’s not just you. It’s my job, my recovery, my parole. All those things matter. I can’t just take off. I have commitments.”
Her lips curled into a grin. “My, don’t you sound all grown up and shit now?” Bowen pushed his hips up off the couch and was rewarded with a small gasp.
“How’s that for grown up?” He laughed and angled Gabby’s head just where he liked it before dropping his mouth down for a kiss. Well, less of a kiss and more of a devouring, he thought as he welcomed her tongue into his mouth.
They were done talking. Too much thinking, too much responsibility, and way too much angst. He’d go crazy if he didn’t get inside her immediately. Trying to ignore the pattern he was developing where he opted for sex over substance with Gabby and just how much it reminded him of his old self, Bowen yanked her sweatshirt off and bit her nipple.
For now, he was going to enjoy her body then fall asleep in her slender arms.
*
Gabby sat on the balcony of Bowen’s apartment, sipping her coffee and nibbling a piece of dry, overcooked toast. Strange that a man in a band called Toast didn’t actually have a well-functioning toaster. The ancient relic of a kitchen appliance had one setting: burnt to a crisp. Thankfully, he had an impressive inventory of various jams. The one she currently favored was made from Oregon marionberries. Super tasty.
The drizzly gray sky threatened more rain, but thus far hadn’t delivered on the promise that morning. One of her favorite things about Portland was, ironically, the weather. She loved the crisp bite of spring mornings and the misty shroud that covered everything like a gauzy film full of promise. She’d woken up under a big, molten blanket of sleeping man. Usually she secretly enjoyed those quiet moments when she felt the safety of his arms wrapped around her. When she could roll over and watch the sleeping giant with his angelic good looks and rock god body. But not that morning. She felt the walls suddenly starting to move in on her and took that as a sign to unravel her body from his and sneak out.
Thirty minutes later she found herself staring off into the brightening morning. Her laptop sat on the small table ignored. She’d already called and left messages for her current property management company and the manager of Roland’s building. She also talked to the detective who was handling her case.
“Hey, good morning.” Bowen’s deep voice rumbled through the quiet morning, reminding he
r of the soft, dirty words he’d whispered in her ear as he’d continued her education in sex the night before. “I thought we were sleeping in this morning.” His leg muscles flexed beneath his running shorts as he folded his large frame into the chair and snatched her toast from her fingers, popping the whole thing in his mouth. “We really need to get a new toaster.”
His smile quickly disappeared and he let out a choked chuckle. “You know what I mean.” His wet hair fell forward over his forehead and a few stray drops of water dripped from the ends onto his colorful, sculpted chest. He was so sinfully sexy it made her nipples ache just to look at him. “I just meant…”
“I know what you meant, pretty boy. Anyway, I couldn’t sleep and thought I’d see if anything was happening with McNeil. Plus, I was hoping to get a workout in before I took off for the center.” She hadn’t been going to any of her mixed martial arts classes lately. Usually, on Mondays, she took in an early class, worked from home for a few hours, then went to the center until past dinnertime. “I called the detective working my case.”
“And is there anything happening?” Bowen leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees with his long fingers steepled under his chin.
“He’s going to stop by this morning. Sometime around ten. Is that okay?”
“Of course.” He smiled that panty-dropping smile, apparently distracting her from his real mission, which was stealing her coffee. “How long are you working?” He took a sip from her cup.
She shrugged. “Don’t know.”
“Are we back to the minimal number of words to communicate?”
“No. I just have a bunch to do. Couple hours. Then I need to get to Quirk. The systems are duct taped together. Still trying to set up the new client management database. I can’t get it to play nice with the accounting system. Also, I’m planning to stick around for movie night.”
“What’s the movie?”
“Seriously? Why does that matter? It’s a kid movie. Family friendly…not heavy metal.”
“Hey, I happen to like cartoons and kids’ movies.”
“It’s Frozen.”
“I love that movie. I know all the songs.”
“You’re so full of shit, Bowen Landry.” But she laughed as she said it. And then he started singing the most popular song from the movie. The man didn’t just sing the song either, he threw back his head and belted it out so loud, Gabby jumped from her chair and slapped her hands over his mouth.
He pulled her into his lap and nipped at her fingers until she took them off his mouth. “See. Told you. I don’t lie.”
“Okay so you know the song. Doesn’t mean you want to hang out with a bunch of kids, Elsa.”
“Actually I do, Anna. I dig being at the center for my classes. I like the extra time I’ve been spending there too. I was even thinking…” A light pink blush crawled up his neck. “I was thinking that maybe some of the residents might like me to take them to a meeting.”
A meeting? Oh. Realization slowly dawned. He meant an AA or NA meeting. “Since some of the clients—I know of at least three moms—are in recovery. Quirk has counseling and all that, but there’s nothing like a good ole twelve-step meeting to keep shit real,” he continued.
“Oh, uhm,” she stammered.
“I know you don’t have a lot of confidence in all that, but it helps a lot of people, Gabby. Including me.”
She knew it did. Just because her mom couldn’t get her shit together didn’t mean a lot of other people hadn’t.
“I’ll ask Jami and Ella what they think. You could probably use the van. It’s not in the greatest shape, but it works well enough.” What could it hurt? He could shuttle them to and from meetings once in a while. If he stayed sober. And, if he didn’t, someone else could do it.
“Really?” He squeezed her thigh, sending shivers up her legs straight to her crotch. Damn, she’d gone from touch-me-and-I-cut-you to one-touch-and-I’ll-come-all-over-you.
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Cool. I’m not a mechanic or anything, but I know my way around an engine. I can tune it up, you know.”
“Yeah, that would be really…neat,” she said suddenly feeling shy and awkward. Bowen kissed her nose and hugged her. She was about to turn that sweet peck into something else when three sharp knocks sounded through the apartment.
She touched her forehead to his. “Guess the coppers got here early.”
He laughed and stood, setting her on her feet. “To be continued. I’m starving anyway. Want some eggs?”
“No thanks. I had a banana and a bite of my toast.”
At the door, he turned and smirked. “How about I give you some of my banana when we’re done here?”
“Open the door, dork.”
Which he did and then led the detective into the apartment. After introducing himself as Det. Caleb Miller, he sat with Gabby at the kitchen table and Bowen moved back to the kitchen to make his breakfast. “Can I get you some coffee, sir?” Bowen asked as he pulled out two clean, but mismatched cups.
“No, thank you. I’ll get right to the point,” the detective said, pulling a manila folder out of his briefcase and opening it on the table. A form with small writing was on top of the sheaths of paper, and a dated picture of Owen was clipped to the top corner. “With your neighbor identifying McNeil leaving this building the night your apartment was broken into, as well as his wife’s corroboration, you could easily get a restraining order issued by a judge.” The ditch between Miller’s gray eyebrows sunk deeper. “But—”
“But,” Gabby interrupted. “That won’t even become active until he’s served with it. And you haven’t been able to find him.” She crossed her arms and blew an impatient burst of air from her lungs.
“That’s true. However, we do believe he’s in the area still.”
She’d suspected as much. And, yet, her stomach dropped to her feet and a surreal, light-headed feeling floated through her chest.
“Oh, fucking great. But you can’t find him. Which means she’s not safe,” Bowen growled from over the stove.
The adrenaline of anger had long worn off and had been steadily replaced with a growing agitation, an annoyance at having her simple life disrupted. But this was a new feeling. Or an old one that she’d begun to let fade into the past. This was fear with an edge of gritty dread. She wanted to quiet Bowen, remind him that this was her fight, but she couldn’t find the words.
Because if she didn’t accept his help, didn’t let him hold her hand through this nightmare, she was afraid she might not make it through this one.
“Now listen, son. We’re doing everything we can to catch McNeil.” The detective shifted uncomfortably. She knew she should speak up. Knew she should take back the conversation, but somehow this felt less like Bowen steamrolling her and more like…like something else.
“What exactly are you doing to keep her safe? He could decide to quit screwing around with her apartment and car and jump straight into attacking her. Why are you waiting for him to attack her?” Bowen was around the counter and standing next to the table looking intently into the older man’s face. That light-headed surreal thing shifted and turned into a little fluttery winged thing in her chest.
“We’ve sent regular patrols around the area; we’re trying to locate him.” He stood and his face flushed just slightly. A light tinge of color on his neck and cleanly shaved jaw gave away his discomfort. But Bowen stood with his legs far apart, leaning slightly forward. Not aggressive so much, but definitely an engaged participant in a passionate discussion.
Bowen was fighting for her.
It hit her like a slug to the solar plexus.
Sure he was taking over her conversation—that was kind of his way—but what he was really doing was going to bat for her. For Gabby.
“I don’t doubt you’re taking the threat to Gabby seriously. I just wonder how seriously you’re taking it.”
“I assure you we’re doing everything we can to catch him.”
“A
nd, clearly, that’s not enough.”
“I understand your concerns—”
“I’m not sure you do. But let me spell them out so there’s no misunderstanding. There’s a very angry and dangerous man who seems intent on causing harm to Gabby. He has a history of threatening and attacking her.”
“Well, that’s not really the case. Ms. Alvarez is actually on record as the aggressor in that altercation.”
“We both know that’s not what happened, don’t we, Detective?” Bowen pulled the chair out next to Gabby and turned it around before sitting on it. He rested his forearms on the back and leaned forward. “If you let him get to her, the police will once again be letting this woman down.”
The detective stood and grabbed the open folder from the table, stuffing the reports and pictures back in before shoving it under his arm with his briefcase. “We have every confidence that we’ll catch Mr. McNeil before he escalates. In the meantime…” he turned to face Gabby “…make sure you’re never on your own and that you’re aware of your surroundings at all times. This isn’t your fault, but you need to keep yourself out of trouble nevertheless.”
Gabby stood and followed Miller to the door. “That’s really all I can do.” It was as simple as that. And it always had been, she thought as she swung open the door…where her mother stood with her fist raised to knock.
“Hi, baby. Surprise!”
Chapter Sixteen
“Alma. Uh, come in.”
Bowen had never seen Gabby move so expediently as she ushered Detective Miller out the door and yanked her mother in. Gabby’s mom was in her early forties and very attractive. He could see where Gabby got her beauty and lean figure. But her mother had a grizzled edge he could see clearly if he looked closely. Her long auburn hair had streaks of gray at the temples and her makeup was flawless from across the room. But once he shook her hand he could see that it had been applied impatiently. Or maybe done under the influence.
Nevertheless, Gabby’s mother had the look of a woman who probably shined under the filter of dark lights in a questionable bar, but once she stepped into the light it was obvious Alma Alvarez had not taken the easy road.