Dare to Love (Maxwell #3)

by S. B. Alexander

  “Quid pro quo. Fair?” He chewed on his busted lip as he peered down at me.

  I nodded.

  “Let’s walk,” he said. “I told Rafe to take the car back.”

  As we trekked back down the quiet street, large snowflakes fell, coating the parked vehicles. There was no sign of the thugs in the car.

  “Rafe hacked into BU’s computer system. Once he found your full name, he did more research and found a picture of you in the Miami Herald. I’m sorry about your parents.” His tone was even, yet a hint of sadness edged the last of his words.

  The Miami Herald had posted a write-up of the accident along with a picture of my mom, dad, and me. The Coast Guard had found my father’s forty-foot yacht overturned, but no bodies. I’d been scheduled to go with them that weekend to the Bahamas. But I’d gotten the flu. According to the Coast Guard, my parents encountered a storm with twenty-foot waves off the coast of the Bahamas.

  A snowflake flake melted on my nose. “Thanks. So I guess it’s my turn.” We crossed over a side street. “Kelton and I grew up together. Or at least until I was thirteen. Then my father took a position with his company in England. I never kept in touch with Kelton. The first time I saw him since I left Texas was in the damn art class.”

  “Why don’t you want anything to do with him?”

  Because I was still in love with him, and I knew we could never be a couple. Because people I love die. Because my sister killed his sister. Because his family would never welcome me. Because I couldn’t afford the distraction. “Bad history.”

  We walked the last two blocks in silence. I was thankful he didn’t pry any further. I wasn’t ready to spill the details of my past with Kelton, not without breaking down.

  As we climbed the steps up onto his porch, I prayed tomorrow would be a better day. I certainly had a new plan to get what was mine, albeit a loose one.

  8

  Lizzie

  I flipped onto my stomach in the most comfortable bed I’d slept in in ages. A stream of morning light weaved through the blinds—or at least I thought it was morning. I didn’t care to check either. Since it was Saturday, I didn’t have any pressing appointments or a job I had to be at. The only item on my list was to give Zach Malden a ring that afternoon. Burying my face into the goose-down pillow, I inhaled its crisp lavender scent as I stretched my body in all directions. When I did, I kicked something at the bottom of the bed. Then someone giggled.

  I jackknifed into a sitting position, blinking rapidly. My gaze landed on not one, but two girls who had to be about seventeen or eighteen. Oh my God. Dillon said he didn’t have a girlfriend. Or maybe they were his sisters. Both were sitting on my bed staring at me with beautiful smiles and big brown eyes.

  The one closest to me was braiding the ends of her long brown hair. “Good morning. I’m Bee.”

  The other, who had shiny black hair styled into a pixie cut, waved. “I’m Allie.”

  “So, did Dillon find you on the streets?” Bee asked, securing the ends of her braid with a scrunchie.

  My jaw fell to the mattress. “I’m sorry?”

  “Who’s your pimp?” Allie asked, inching farther onto the bed before lying on her side, propping her head in her hand.

  My jaw locked. I’d made a grave mistake falling for Dillon’s charm. Suddenly, it all made sense. He didn’t want me to sell guns for him. He wanted me on his crew to sell my body. He kissed me last night as a test. I’d bet he wanted to make sure I could kiss well for the clients. I swept my gaze over the two girls, who were dressed in flannel pajamas. Bee’s was printed with bears and Allie’s with Hello Kitty. Allie seemed to have a hard edge to her by the way she was studying me. Maybe it was the hollowness of her eyes. On the other hand, Bee gave me the impression she was naïve and less tomboyish than Allie.

  “I think I need to go.” I eased back the covers.

  “Please don’t,” Bee said. “We’d like for you to go to the movies with us. Dillon says you’re going to be staying with us for a while.”

  My eyebrows disappeared into my hairline. “He did?” The man was way too confident. Either that or he was planning on locking me in this room. I diverted my gaze to the two windows, hoping a fire escape sat outside one of them since I was on the third floor.

  Bee nodded, beaming from ear to ear as she took my hand. “You need a manicure. Oooh, Allie. Let’s give Elizabeth a makeover.”

  Dillon hadn’t wasted any time in sharing my name. I was curious what else he had told them.

  Allie’s gaze roamed over me, no doubt trying to figure out who the new girl was.

  Bee flipped my hand so my palm was facing upward. “Why do you have calluses?”

  “Lifting weights. Is Dillon home?”

  “Yeah, he’s in the kitchen making breakfast.” Allie sat up. “The bathroom is down the hall on the left. We’ll meet you on the first floor. Come on, Bee. Let’s eat.” Her voice was firm, leading me to believe she was the more adult of the two.

  Bee pouted as she traipsed out with Allie. I flopped back onto the pillow. I couldn’t imagine Dillon as a pimp. He was a gentleman last night. He wanted me safe. When we got back to his house, he didn’t try to coax me to his bed or try to kiss me. He escorted me to this room and said good night. I stared up at the popcorn ceiling, debating what to do. No weapon was worth selling my body for. I had a small amount of cash in the bank, though I had to use it sparingly. The best course of action was to contact Peyton to see if her mom needed help with upcoming catering jobs. After the art gala, Wendy had paid me in cash. For two hours of my time she’d given me one hundred and fifty dollars. At first I’d given half of it back to her. It seemed like a lot, considering it far exceeded minimum wage. She’d insisted, saying I’d done a great job. Part of me thought Peyton had told her mom about my family and that Wendy felt sorry for me. Either way, I pocketed the cash after she argued with me.

  The smell of bacon floated in the air, and my stomach grumbled. I climbed out of bed, dressed, and combed my fingers through my hair then set out for the kitchen, thinking about how to approach Dillon. The best way was to keep it simple. Tell him straight up I wasn’t working the streets for him, and that he could sell me the gun and I’d be out of his hair.

  I followed the bacon scent down to the first floor, swung around the staircase, then crossed a wide hall and into the open spacious kitchen. Allie and Bee sat opposite each other at a picnic-style table. Beyond them, through the window, three inches of snow piled neatly atop the wooden fence.

  Bee beamed with excitement when she saw me. Allie kept eating, only eyeing me for a brief moment. Dillon stood at the stove, plucking bacon from a pan onto a plate.

  “Sleep well?” he asked. His brown, shoulder-length hair had that bedhead look, and his jaw was scruffy. He was wearing a wife-beater, showcasing a tattoo sleeve of crosses, quotes, a Chinese symbol, and a woman’s name, along his right arm.

  My short-term memory vaporized as my limbs locked into place. I stared at the name, Grace, which was woven into the Chinese symbol on his bicep. My lungs burned as though Dillon had poured hot grease down my throat.

  “Bee, help Elizabeth into a chair,” Dillon said.

  At the sound of my name, I snapped back to reality, switching my gaze from his arm to Bee, who had bounced over to me.

  “I’m cool,” I said weakly.

  Bee went back to her seat. She and Allie began whispering—about me, I imagined. I had to look like a deer in the headlights.

  I shuffled closer to Dillon, trying to recall my Chinese. My father had taken an assignment with his tech company in China for two months when we lived in Texas. My mom, Gracie, and I had visited him for a month. I’d been fascinated with the language and picked up several words. When we returned to the States, I kept up with learning the language until Gracie died. Then I lost all desire to do anything.

  “You’ve seen a ghost,” Dillon said as he touched my arm.

  I’d seen more than a ghost. I was beginning to
think Dillon and I were meant to meet. For what reason, I wasn’t sure.

  He carried a plate of bacon to the table. “Let’s eat and talk.” He set the plate next to a bowl of scrambled eggs, fruit, toast, and a stack of pancakes.

  I moved over to the bench-style seating, my mind swimming with what question to ask him first.

  “Girls, if you’re finished, head upstairs and get ready,” Dillon said. “I have a few things to do before we leave for the movie.”

  Bee and Allie kissed him on the cheek. Allie snagged a piece of bacon. Bee waved at me with a glowing smile. I couldn’t help but return the gesture. Bee had an infectious way about her to the point where I wanted to hug her and let her paint my nails.

  “I would like to know why they asked who my pimp was. If you’re a pimp, I’m out of here.” And I’d be taking the girls with me.

  He filled his plate with eggs, the spoon dinging against the bowl as he scooped. “After all my help last night, is that what you think?” He mashed his lips into a thin line as he salted his eggs.

  I ground my teeth together. “I don’t know. What’re two teenaged girls doing with you? Are they your sisters?” Dillon didn’t give me the impression he was a guy who took advantage of girls.

  He grabbed a fork and shoveled a pile of eggs into his mouth. He watched me while he chewed. “They’re two girls who needed help. They were living on the streets with no chance of surviving.”

  “Where are their parents?”

  “Allie ran away from a foster home. I found her pimp beating her. Bee is also a runaway, but not from a foster home. Her mother died when she was young, and she was left with a father who’s a drunk. She couldn’t take his shit anymore. I found her among the homeless crowd one night. They’re both eighteen and make their own decisions. I’ve offered to help them reconnect with family, but they’re not ready.”

  “Do you troll for girls or something?” I thought it was admirable that he rescued girls, but a part of me found it odd that he would.

  He set his fork down with a smirk. “Elizabeth.”

  “It’s Lizzie.” Elizabeth reminded me too much of my parents.

  “Lizzie, I try to help girls in bad situations. I don’t expect you to believe me, and I’m glad you don’t. That tells me you’re cautious. Women should be more cautious and question things. I’ve been trying to teach Allie and Bee that very thing.”

  “Do you kiss all the girls you help?” A large part of me knew he was a good guy, but doubt niggled in the back of my mind.

  “I told you I didn’t plan that.”

  Yeah, but the effort he’d put behind the kiss and the way his body had responded told me he’d liked it. I couldn’t blame him. I enjoyed his kiss. As badass and sexy as Dillon was, I was there on business. Although seeing Kelton again had kick-started my emotions for him.

  “I’m not in Boston to get involved with anyone. Can we agree to get to know each other as just friends? Or business partners?” I wanted to complete our deal.

  “You like that Maxwell guy?” His gaze roamed over my face.

  I shrugged. “Does it matter? Don’t answer that. Look, are you going to sell me a gun or not?” My stomach growled.

  “Eat, then we’ll talk.” He started spreading jelly on his toast.

  I dove in and filled my plate with eggs, pancakes, and bacon. I had a feeling my body and my brain were going to need all the fuel they could get.

  * * *

  After breakfast and a trip to the bathroom, I went in search of Dillon. I was on the second floor landing when Baldy’s and Dillon’s voices carried upward. I stopped.

  “That Maxwell dude is here,” Baldy said. “You want me to get rid of him?”

  Kelton sure hadn’t changed. He was as persistent as ever.

  “No, Josh. The guy won’t let up until he gets answers, and I don’t want any trouble. We can’t afford to have the cops sniffing around here.”

  Considering he sold guns, I didn’t doubt the cops could be trouble. But the law wasn’t an issue at the moment. I thought about telling Dillon I’d handle Kelton, but I wasn’t prepared to face Kelton. Maybe after my mission was completed, I’d talk to him. That way my head would be clear, and he wouldn’t distract me from my goal.

  Josh’s and Dillon’s voices died when the door closed with a resounding thud. I flinched then sprinted down one flight before ducking into a living room at the bottom of the stairs. I had to at least hear what Kelton wanted.

  Two tall windows anchored the sides of the wide window in the middle. Luckily the curtains were drawn, but the men had to be on the porch because their voices were loud but not exactly clear.

  Footsteps and giggles broke me away from dialing in on Kelton and Dillon’s conversation.

  “What are you doing?” Allie asked.

  I put my finger to my mouth.

  “Oooh, you’re eavesdropping,” Bee said excitedly as she bounced in, her ponytail swaying back and forth. “Over here.” She pointed to a door adjacent to the stairs.

  I followed her and Allie into a room that had a pool table and stank of cigarettes.

  Allie hopped up and sat on the pool table, watching me. I went to the window. This room had the same style windows as the living room, and the curtains were drawn.

  Bee touched her lips with her forefinger. “Dillon sometimes leaves the window cracked in this room when they’re playing pool,” she whispered. “And the guys were in here after dinner last night.”

  I swiped my hand down one end of the curtains, feeling for a draft. Sure enough, cold air seeped in. I squatted and angled my ear at the opening in the window.

  “I want to talk to Lizzie,” Kelton said. His voice was clear and crisp. “Is she here?”

  “How did you find out where I lived?” Dillon asked.

  “I have mob connections. Now where is she?” Kelton’s voice was unyielding.

  I cringed at the word mob. The organization Dillon wanted to stay away from.

  “Man, you don’t give up. Have you asked yourself why she walked away from you last night?” Dillon asked.

  I wanted to peek through the curtains. Body language was always a better way to discern a person’s emotions. Truth be told, I wanted a glimpse of Kelton too.

  “You know, Hart? Last night I had every intention of shaking your hand for helping girls get off the streets. But now? Now I want to ram my fist in your face again. I’ll find Lizzie, and she’ll talk to me.”

  Dillon harrumphed. “What makes you think she’ll talk to you?”

  “Obviously she hasn’t shared her past with you. Such a shame if you two are intimate, but she owes me.”

  His last sentence gave me whiplash. He had been the one to declare that he’d find me one day. That didn’t mean we owed each other anything. The pain in my heart warred with the angry heat pinching my cheeks as I thought back to the day Gracie accidentally killed Karen. Blood had covered Gracie’s face as tears streamed down it, her breathing had been labored, her hands shaking. I couldn’t imagine being in the Maxwells’ shoes when they lost Karen. That aside, not one person among the Maxwells had tried to find out how Gracie was or said that they were sorry for what happened. My sister hadn’t died that day, but she might as well have.

  A cold hand touched my face. “Lizzie.” Bee’s flowery voice brought me out of my trance. “Allie and I are here for you. Don’t cry.”

  A salty tear slid down my cheek, finding its way into my mouth. I blinked to find Allie and Bee at my side, rubbing my arms. I was beginning to believe the three of us had many things in common, but one that stood out—we were standing in Dillon’s home, brought together by fate.

  “Is that your pimp outside?” Allie whispered.

  I busted out laughing. They both joined in.

  “No. But I should talk to him.” Kelton wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted. I couldn’t let Dillon deal with my problem. Besides, the cops would be here if they beat each other. I didn’t want trouble.

&n
bsp; I shook off the tears, the nerves, even the pain poking at my heart, as best I could. I stuck out my chin and made my way out of the house and onto the porch. Allie and Bee were on my heels. I wanted to laugh, cry again, and hug them for sticking by my side. I mean, we didn’t even know each other.

  Dillon and Kelton stopped talking. Kelton’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

  “He’s hot,” Bee said close to my ear.

  I was beginning to love this girl. She was so right. The dark-blue Henley underneath his leather jacket ignited his midnight-blue eyes.

  “It’s okay, Dillon. We do need to talk,” I said as Allie grabbed onto my hand as though she wanted to protect me. I swear. I was a second from bawling like a starving baby.

  “Girls,” Dillon said. “Let’s go inside.”

  For a second, Allie and Bee didn’t move. Then Dillon raised his brow. The girls huffed at the same time before going back into the house.

  Dillon came up to me. “If he gets out of line, knee him in the balls,” he whispered in my ear. “And I’m just inside if you need me.”

  My heart swelled with so much emotion at my overnight family. I would’ve said thank you, but I didn’t think I could speak.

  Once Kelton and I were alone, we didn’t say anything until a hard wind blew, rustling the branches on the oak tree in the front yard. Snow fluttered to the ground.

  “Remember the tree house?” Kelton asked as he relaxed on the edge of the porch railing.

  Lord, please help me through this conversation. I don’t want to cry. I don’t want to be rude. I don’t want to touch him. You cannot let me touch him. If I did, I’d be a goner. I was so screwed up. I wanted to disappear and never see him again. At the same time, I longed for him to hold me, kiss me, and tell me he still loved me.

  “What…” I cleared my throat. “What do you want? I don’t owe you anything,” I said evenly.