by Susan Stoker
Cruz literally felt his heart break as memories careened through his mind and everything clicked into place with extreme clarity. All the nights Sophie came home from partying with her friends, immediately showering before joining him in bed. The weight she couldn’t seem to put on. Her excessive frenetic energy and mood swings.
“Get the fuck out,” Cruz clipped. When the men didn’t move, he cocked his pistol and then warned in a deadly voice, “You have ten seconds to get your asses out of my house before I shoot first and call the cops second.”
Even with Sophie trying to hold on to the men by their dicks, they managed to tear themselves away and brush past him on the way out the door. The last straw was when Sophie called, “Leave the money on the table on your way out.”
Cruz thought back to Sophie’s comment that he hadn’t satisfied her in bed. He would’ve been hurt, except he’d dealt with enough addicts to know the only thing they could think of was their next hit. Besides that, he knew for a fact that they’d been more than sexually compatible…at least at the beginning of their marriage.
The officers at the San Antonio Police Department had known who Sophie was and had tried to go easy on her the first couple of times she’d been arrested, but it hadn’t done any good. She’d simply not cared.
There was nothing left of the Sophie he’d once loved. She was lost to the drugs, her new life on the street and her pimp. Cruz had tried calling her parents to get her help, but they’d truly disowned her, as Sophie had told him early in their relationship. It seemed she’d entered a life of drugs while in high school. When her parents had been called to pick her up at a police station when she’d been taken into custody—after being caught in a hotel room with two men thirty years older than she was, naked and drugged out of her mind—they’d refused. One of her friends had been worried about her and had called her parents to try to get her some help. But instead, they’d washed their hands of her altogether. They figured that Sophie had made her bed and they’d had enough.
Cruz just wished they’d said something to him. Granted, he’d only met them once, but it would’ve been nice for them to have made an effort to reach out to him and let him know about their daughter. He mentally shrugged. The bottom line was that Sophie had put on a great show and he’d bought it hook, line, and sinker.
The backfiring of a car brought Cruz’s attention back to the mostly deserted shipping yard. Even with the party going on inside the club, the area was quiet and the night passed slowly for Cruz. He hated knowing there wasn’t anything he could do at the moment to help Bambi and the other two women who had been shown inside earlier, but his hands were tied.
The night was one for memories…both good and bad. He hadn’t thought about Sophie in months, and after only a few hours of meeting a woman who was his ex’s complete opposite, he’d rehashed their entire relationship. Cruz wasn’t sure what to think about that. He’d already made the decision to get close to Mickie for her own protection, but he was beginning to think she’d be more than simply another job.
Chapter Four
Mickie wiped her hands on her jeans for the hundredth time as she made her way up the River Walk to the Iron Cactus. She’d waffled back and forth before actually texting Cruz the night before. Finally, talking herself into it, she’d sent him the noncommittal text, hoping he’d been serious about wanting to see her again. Never in a million years did she think he’d respond to her as soon as he had.
She hadn’t lied when she’d told Cruz she didn’t think he seemed like the type of man who would take a date to the River Walk. He seemed more…rugged or something. The iconic San Antonio River Walk was very touristy and didn’t match the image of Cruz in her head. Mickie mentally shrugged. There were bound to be other things she’d learn about him that weren’t what she expected.
Mickie couldn’t help but think about her ex, and how everything she’d known about him had been a lie. Troy was a piece of work. Mickie had thought she was the luckiest woman in the world. She’d married him when she was around Angel’s age. They’d met at the dealership. Troy had brought his car in for service and they’d immediately clicked. He’d seemed so nice.
Troy had been thirty-one and quite wealthy. Mickie had money. Her parents gave her a monthly allowance to try to assuage their guilt over not helping much in raising Angel, but Troy had way more. He wasn’t good-looking in the turn-heads-on-the-street kind of way. He was a bit of a nerd, but it was his perceived sincerity that had drawn Mickie.
He’d wined and dined her and had swept her off her feet. He’d even convinced her to wait until after they were married to consummate their relationship. Like a fool, Mickie had been convinced it was the most romantic gesture she’d ever heard of. She wasn’t a virgin, but hadn’t had a lot of experience either.
So they’d had a huge wedding, paid for mostly by Troy’s family. She wore a wedding dress with a six-foot train along with six bridesmaids and six groomsmen, all friends of Troy’s. The sex they’d had that night wasn’t anything to write home about, but it wasn’t awful either.
There hadn’t been a honeymoon because Troy had claimed he was in the middle of a huge project at the accounting firm where he worked, but he promised they’d take a trip later. Later had never arrived. Troy had started working past five every day, and six o’clock became seven. Then eight. And slowly but surely, any intimacy between them turned tepid at best.
The lack of a sex life was what Mickie had stressed over more than anything else. She’d never been very adventurous, even before she’d met Troy, but they’d never had sex in anything but the missionary position. Mickie longed for more, but had never gotten it from Troy. They acted like roommates rather than man and wife, and slowly his lack of interest in her eroded any confidence she had in her own sexuality.
It wasn’t until they’d been married for two and a half years that she found out the real reason Troy had married her. It had devastated her, and Mickie knew she’d never forget how gutted she’d felt listening to Troy talk on the phone with Brittany, one of the women who’d been a bridesmaid in their wedding, and who’d apparently been the real love of Troy’s life all along.
“Yeah, Mickie has no clue. Brit, I promise, in another few months we’ll get that divorce. You know I had to marry her in order to get my inheritance. Mum and Pop never liked you. It was a shitty thing to do, forcing me to marry or lose all that money, but now that I have control over it, I’ll make sure Mickie loses interest in me and we can agree on an amicable divorce. I can guarantee the sex already sucks. When I have to fuck her, I don’t bother even trying to make it good for her. Once she signs the papers that say she wants no alimony, I’m free for you, baby.”
He’d been silent for a moment, obviously listening to Brittany on the other end of the line.
“Oh yeah. She never wants to rock the boat. She’ll sign them, no contest. Swear. And yeah, I’ll tell Mickie I’m working late again tonight and get to your place around three.”
Another pause and Mickie felt the tears rolling down her cheeks, but didn’t bother to wipe them away.
Troy’s voice deepened as he responded to whatever Brittany had said. “I can’t wait to get you pregnant. Hopefully by this time next year, you’ll be having my baby. I can’t wait to start our family. As soon as you’re pregnant, I’ll tell her we’ve drifted apart and we’ll be better off as friends. I have no doubt she’ll sign the divorce papers. I love you, baby. See you later.”
Mickie had stood still in the doorway and stared at Troy with no emotion on her face as he’d turned around. All the blood had drained from his face and he’d had the nerve to stammer the clichéd phrase, “Mickie. It’s not what you think.”
She’d simply said, “You’ll have divorce papers delivered within the week instead of waiting for her to get pregnant. I hope you have a good lawyer, because I’m sure as hell asking for alimony.”
She’d received a fortune in the divorce, especially after Troy’s long-term affair with Brittany
was exposed. His parents despised Mickie for dragging their family name through the mud, almost as much as they hated Brittany, but Mickie didn’t give a damn. As far as she was concerned, Troy and his parents had brought it on themselves. They hadn’t allowed him to marry who he loved in the first place, and Troy didn’t have the balls to stand up to them.
Her own parents were disappointed she and Troy couldn’t get past “their little argument.” Their attitude had saddened Mickie as much as the divorce itself.
Last she’d heard, Troy was now married to Brittany and they’d moved to Seattle. They’d had a little girl and Troy was employed by one of the best accounting firms in the state. “So much for karma,” Mickie said out loud to no one in particular.
She sighed and stopped in front of the restaurant. She’d moved on. Older and wiser and all that crap. She was much more cautious now when it came to dating, and hadn’t found anyone who had been able to break through her walls after Troy. More importantly, there wasn’t anyone who she wanted to try with…until now.
Knowing she was running late—traffic had been horrendous because of an accident on the interstate—Mickie quickly opened the door to the restaurant and was hit with a wall of different sounds and smells. There was a large group of people in the bar area and the scent of spices and tequila hit her nose hard. Her stomach growled. Mexican was her favorite thing to eat and Mickie had forgotten just how good the food was here.
“Hello, Mickie. Thank you for not standing me up.”
Mickie turned and saw Cruz next to her, as if he’d materialized out of thin air. She shook her head. “I’m sorry I’m late. Traffic was a bitch. And seriously, I don’t know who you’ve been asking out, but any woman would be insane to accept a date with you then not show up.”
“Oh, you’d be surprised, honey. Come on, our table is ready.”
Mickie melted a bit inside when his fingertips skimmed her lower back, guiding her in front of him, protecting her from the crush of people as they made their way behind the hostess, who led the way to a table.
They were shown to a booth in the back of the restaurant, away from the water. Mickie supposed it wasn’t a prime seating arrangement, but sitting away from the people and in the dim light seemed just as intimate as if it’d been a candlelight dinner.
Cruz held her elbow as she sat, then surprisingly, opted to sit next to her instead of across the table.
“Do you mind?” Cruz asked, smiling and gesturing to the space next to her on the bench.
“Uh, no. I guess not,” Mickie stammered. She’d never had a date want to sit next to her. Every time she and Troy had gone out, he’d sat across from her and buried his nose in his phone throughout the meal.
He sat and said nonchalantly, “I’d prefer to sit next to you. It feels more like a date that way.” He shrugged. “I know…it’s weird, right? Sorry, I’ll just…” Cruz started to get up from the table to move to the other seat.
Mickie put her hand on his. “It’s fine, Cruz. I have to be honest, you surprised me, but not in a bad way. Okay? I’m just not used to it. But I don’t mind at all. Promise.”
He laughed and settled back down next to her. “It’s been a while since I’ve been out with a woman I wanted to impress. I think I’ve lost my touch.”
“I think you’re doing just fine.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Would you two like something to drink?”
The waitress’s voice cut into their conversation and they both laughed. After ordering, and after the waitress had walked away, Cruz turned in his seat and looked at Mickie.
“So, come here often?”
Mickie giggled. “I’ve been here a few times, yes. You?”
“Once.” At her lifted eyebrow, Cruz continued. “It was a celebratory dinner. I came with my friend and his woman, and the rest of our friends. She’d recently been through a horrific ordeal, and we were celebrating the fact she was alive, as well as our friendship.”
“Wow, I’m glad she’s okay. You sound like you’re close with your friends.”
“Yeah, I told you before they’re like my brothers and sister. I don’t think people like that are brought into our lives by accident, or very often.”
At Mickie’s silence, Cruz cursed again. “Shit. Sorry. That’s a bit deep for a first date, isn’t it? It’s just—”
Mickie squeezed Cruz’s hand that she still held in hers. “It’s fine. Actually it’s refreshing. It’s real. I feel like most of us go through life being fake and lying so often it’s hard to remember who we are deep down inside. I like that you aren’t holding back. It’s nice.”
Cruz shifted uneasily. Suddenly he didn’t like that he was getting close to her just to keep her safe from Ransom and the other club members. So far he liked her. She hadn’t done anything crazy and he felt comfortable around her. Granted he’d only been in her presence for an hour, but an hour was long enough for some women he’d met in the past to go from interesting to bat-shit crazy. Hearing her compliment him made him feel worse about the reason why he was there, especially since he wasn’t being completely honest with her.
Mickie looked at Cruz in confusion. It was as if her words, meant to be a compliment, had made him uncomfortable. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. Being nice is good. I like nice.”
Cruz tried to relax and smile. He was doing a piss-poor job of making her want to hang out with him. At this rate, she’d excuse herself to go to the restroom and sneak out. “Sorry, and you should know…I like nice too. And I’ll be on my best behavior from here on out, so you won’t have to make up an excuse to ditch me.”
Mickie smiled back at him. “Deal.”
The waitress came back with their drinks and after quickly scanning the menu, they both made their choices.
“How’s your sister? Have you had a chance to talk to her recently?” Cruz asked, hating to even bring it up, but wanting to know how much the party last night worked in Ransom’s favor. When Cruz had seen him after the party was over early that morning, he’d been mellow and satisfied. Cruz hadn’t asked about Angel, knowing it would seem weird for a prospect to be interested in his relationship, but he’d wondered.
Mickie sighed. “I called her this morning and she actually answered, which was surprising. But after listening to her, I knew she only talked to me so she could tell me that I’d been wrong about everything I’d told her yesterday.”
“What was your fight over, if you don’t mind talking about it?” Cruz asked.
“She’s dating this guy who’s not good for her, and she won’t listen to me.”
Cruz shrugged nonchalantly. “She’s an adult, right? She’s bound to make some dating mistakes as she learns what and who she wants.”
“I’d normally agree with you, but not this guy. I’m assuming since you’re from around here you’ve heard of the Red Brothers Motorcycle Club, yeah?” At his nod, she continued. “Well, she’s dating the president of the club. She thinks he’s misunderstood and a great guy, but he’s not. I’m guessing you don’t know this, but MC romance novels are very popular now. If you go online and do a search, there are a ton of them. Pages and pages of books with hot, built, tattooed men on the covers. They mostly tout these big scary guys who are pussycats under all their bravado. They do slightly illegal things, but all in the name of keeping their communities safe. They don’t deal drugs because that’s wrong, and they might prostitute women, but only because they want to give them a ‘safe place’ to make money and to make sure no men take advantage of them. In the end they all end up together and happy as clams. It makes a good story. Hell, I read some of those books myself, and enjoy them. But my sister thinks this guy is straight out of one of those romance books. But he’s not. I did some research. I’m scared to death for her. He’s bad news.”
Knowing he was treading on thin ice, Cruz waded in cautiously. He whistled low. “The Hermanos Rojos are bad news.”
Mickie didn’t even give him time t
o continue or to elaborate. She leaned one elbow on the table and put her head in her hand as she turned toward him. “I know, Cruz. Angel told me this morning that she went to their compound, or whatever it’s called, while a party was going on. She said that it was all civilized and normal. She even said it was a bit lame. She told me she met some of the ‘old ladies’ and they were all very nice to her. They partied in the back, away from the men because that’s their place, then Ransom brought her home. Something doesn’t seem right about it, but I think she’s even more in love with this guy than before. He’s scum, and the more I try to talk her away from him, the tighter she holds on.”
“I hope you aren’t thinking about doing anything crazy.”
Mickie sighed. “If I knew what crazy thing to do, I’d probably do it. Angel is spoiled and has said some pretty mean things to me in the past…but she’s my sister and I love her. I know for a fact that anything I do to interfere will only make her more stubborn. She’s a lot like me in that way.” She smiled somewhat sadly.
Cruz hated seeing Mickie so dejected, but it wasn’t as if he could break cover and tell her he’d keep his eye on her sister and do what he could to keep her out of danger. Deciding a change in subject was in order, he tried to flirt with her a bit, “So, tell me about yourself. I know you work at a car dealership, have a sister who drives you crazy and that you have hair that makes me want to run my fingers through it, but what else?” He smiled at the blush that bloomed over her cheeks.
“You can’t ever ask a simple question, can you?” Mickie laughed and started playing with her napkin as she spoke. “I’m really not that interesting. I know I’m supposed to tell you all sorts of cool things, but I’m really just a nerd. I’m thirty-four years old and prefer to sit at home with a good book than go out and party. I’ve been married once, no kids, and have lived here all my life. I have my undergrad psychology degree from the University of Texas-San Antonio and I’ve only been to Mexico…not anywhere else out of the United States.”