“I thought we would be traditional man and wife. But he sent me up to the honeymoon suite at the hotel, and he never followed. Never said another word to me that whole night. And, the next morning, he was hungover when we met up in the back of the car again. He didn’t even bother to come get me. He sent one of his men. Then he deposited me in these rooms and disappeared for a couple of weeks.” She shook her head. “I was such a fucking fool!”
I ran my hand slowly down her back, at a loss as to what to say. What could I say? I was glad the asshole was an asshole because at least then I was able to be her first, to show her some pleasure in a moment that could have gone so desperately wrong with a guy like Juan Alvarez! But I was sorry for the misery his behavior had placed on her.
And a little jealous of the crush she’d had on him.
“In the beginning, he let me have full run of the house and let me go shopping whenever the mood struck. He let me go visit Jimmy at the institute and let me meet with my friends for lunch. He always had one of his guys follow me around, but it wasn’t like it is now. We went to parties together, to business dinners, to all these things that were so glamorous and fun! It was almost as if we were a real married couple when we were out in public. He was affectionate, caring. But the moment we were alone, all that went flying out the window.”
She pulled back, her fingers dancing over my chest. “And then, about a year ago, I went looking for him. I wanted to ask him about a party we were due to go to that night. I walked into his office without knocking—even though he’d told me many times not to do that. And…”
She shuddered a little. I drew her face up toward mine, kissed her softly, and reminded her that I was there and she was safe. She smiled softly, moving in for another, deeper kiss. But then she pulled back and snuggled against my chest.
“I knew he had secrets. I’d overheard a few too many phone calls to believe he was just a restaurateur, a businessman. Hell, everyone at the restaurant knew that he was running drugs out of there. It was hard to miss with all the extra shipments of food coming and going in the kitchen without our input. But that wasn’t the secret that he was really hiding.”
I’d figured it out by then. She’d said something in the SUV that planted a bug in my head, but it wasn’t until her little speech in the sitting room that it finally wiggled its way into logic.
“He was with one of his men, right? He’s gay?”
“Yeah. And I guess that in this backward, Christian world, that means something, even in the Mexican mafia. Like it makes him less of a man, or less of a bad guy. I don’t know, but his reputation as a ladies’ man seems to be very important to him. And he’s convinced that I’m intent on telling the whole world that it’s not true.”
“Who fucking cares?”
She laughed. “That’s what I thought. But Juan…he was adamant.” She grew sober. “That’s when this started happening,” she said, touching the bruises on her wrist. “I think he always resented me, but that day he started to hate me.”
“Brooks—”
“He cut me off from Jimmy. He locked me in my rooms. I…I don’t think he’s going to honor our deal. I don’t think he’s going to let me go when the two years is up.”
Silence fell between us. I wrapped my arms tighter around her, tugging her closer to me as all this information unfolded in my mind, my mental fingers probing it, looking for the holes that would reveal her as a cheater, as a liar, as the kind of woman that always seemed to populate my world. My heart wanted to believe that she was telling the truth, but there was this dark side of me that kept reminding me that I believed in Miranda when I first met her. There were signs, things I should have seen. Rumors and gossip. Little things about her, little lies that should have tipped me off. But I ignored them because I so desperately wanted to believe that she loved me.
I looked for those here. I made myself examine every interaction between Brooks and that Donny fellow. I made myself look at every nuance of her behavior since I walked into this house just two days ago. I made myself remember the instinct that hit me over the head within minutes of meeting her husband.
Was it too easy? Was she playing me just to get out of a bad marriage, just because she wanted a new victim? Was she another Miranda, another user, another woman who couldn’t be happy with what she had? A woman like my mother who only wanted what wasn’t hers?
But then there was the whole speech downstairs, the fact that she was a virgin a short time ago. She couldn’t fake that.
I wanted to believe her. God help me, I wanted to believe every word that fell from her pouty lips.
“I’ll get you out of this.”
“No, Elliott. I didn’t tell you so that you make promises to me.” She pulled away, sitting up in the middle of the disorder that was her bed. She shook her head, her hair moving all around her shoulders, her face, her eyes wide with fear. “I won’t let you get involved with this.”
“I want to. I want to help you.”
“You don’t understand. Juan is like some lieutenant in the Mexican mafia. He’s got all these people at his disposal who could do horrible things to you! You should hear some of the things I’ve heard his people say, just sitting here around the house. It’s like a game to them, killing people and disposing of their bodies. Like it’s some sort of television show instead of reality. Instead of someone’s life, someone’s son or daughter, someone’s brother or sister! I can’t let that happen to you!”
“I don’t have anyone who would miss me,” I said, trying to draw her close to me again, but she slapped my hands away, pushing me back.
“This isn’t a joke!”
I grabbed her arms and pulled her down onto the mattress, pinning her there with my body.
“There’s something you should know about me, Brooks Holliday Alvarez. I’m not the kind of guy who jumps into bed with just any girl. I’ve been with exactly one other woman in my life and that was the woman I married. This…this thing between us, it means something to me. And not going to just walk away because of some thug who thinks he can do whatever he wants to the people around him.”
I was angry, but I was also terrified. Not of Alvarez. I couldn’t care less about a man who would treat a woman the way he’d treated his wife. But of the idea that she might push me away. I’d been very careful not to let a woman under my skin since I left Miranda. I was determined not to get involved again. But I suddenly found myself involved, and I wasn’t going to be the one to walk away this time.
She started to shake her head, but then I was kissing her and her body slowly relented, slowly molded itself around mine. And then I was inside of her, moving the way I had so desperately wanted to the first time, filling her as deeply as I could before pulling back just enough to create that sensation that made her eyes gloss over with pleasure. I moved as carefully as I could and still keep up the rhythm that my body so desperately craved. She wrapped her legs around my hips, buried her fingers in the muscles of my back. And, after a little encouragement, she began to move her body with mine and that was almost too much.
For her, it was too much. I watched the pleasure dance through her body and felt the muscles of her cunt contract around me until I couldn’t stand it anymore. I filled her, wanting to hold her against me for the rest of the night. For the rest of my life. I contented myself with pulling her with me when I rolled onto my side.
“We’ll figure this out. Together,” I whispered against her ear.
She didn’t respond, but I could feel the tension build in her shoulders.
I slipped out of bed a while later as the sun came up over the garden. Brooks moaned, but she didn’t fully wake. I hadn’t thought she would. She was exhausted in more ways than one. I recognized that in her once I stopped seeing her through the crimson lenses of my past. I knew that kind of exhaustion much too well.
I tugged on my pants—I couldn’t feel professional walking around naked—and slipped my cell phone from my pocket. I went all the way to the
hallway, pressing the speed dial number for my colleague at Gray Wolf, Knox Adams. I knew she’d be up this early. Her boyfriend had a baby that tended toward dawn waking hours. Knox complained about it all the time—even though she often said it through a huge smile and behind the digital photos of the kids she was constantly showing off.
“This is Knox. Talk fast.”
“It’s Elliott.”
“Hey, El, how’s it hanging?”
I smiled, always amused by Knox’s less than feminine attitude. “Not bad. How’s kiddie world?”
“Busy this morning. Mattie thinks it’s funny to pull her diaper off in the middle of the night and go alfresco despite the fact she has no idea what potty training is.”
I laughed, imagining the mess Knox was dealing with at the moment. She groaned.
“Not funny.”
“I’m sure it’s not.” I dragged my fingers through my hair, pacing to the large windows at the back of the hallway. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor when you get into work.”
“Sure. What’s up?”
“I was wondering if you could do a background check on Juan Alvarez.”
“Isn’t that your client? I’m sure David—”
“David did a cursory background. I was wondering if you could dig a little deeper.”
“What are we looking for, exactly?”
I hesitated, glancing back toward the door to Brooks’ suite. “His wife, the one I’m standing bodyguard over? She thinks he might have connections to the Mexican mafia.”
“You mean the Mexican mafia that took credit for that huge ditch full of dead bodies?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, Elliott! What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Just check it out for me and see what you can find out.”
“I will.”
“And Knox—”
“I know. Don’t say anything to David.”
I smiled. “Thanks, kid.”
“You’ve done enough for me off the books. I guess it’s time I pay you back.”
I hung up, telling myself as I made my way back to the suite that I was doing this as much for Brooks’ protection as my own. We needed to know exactly what we were getting into before we picked a fight. But I knew, deep inside, that this was my way of checking her story out. I needed to know she wasn’t lying to me.
I guess I was about to find out for sure.
Chapter 9
At the Compound
Kipling McKay was enjoying himself. He’d come to the conclusion that he would never find a job that was as challenging and fulfilling as the military, but he was wrong. Working with David Grayson, his wife Ricki, and the rest of the crew at Gray Wolf Security was a hell of a lot of fun. Not that he would admit it out loud, of course. If David knew how much he liked working here, it might give him too big of a head to make him likeable.
Kipling walked through the main room where the desks were scattered, operatives and the background check girls working side by side like secretaries in an insurance office. Kipling had thought this arrangement was counterproductive when he first saw it, the operatives flirting with the office girls, but the longer he was here, the more he saw that it established a sort of camaraderie that David kept insisting kept his people loyal to one another. Ash was that way, too. Wanted everyone to feel like they were part of a family or something. Kipling had a family once. That family was gone now. He didn’t want to be part of another one.
Yet, he found himself getting pulled in.
David and Ricki hosted family dinners once or twice a week, inviting the operatives and their families and including their own little boy, Chase, a four year old who was more precocious and full of mischief than any child he’d ever met. He went to the dinners grudgingly at first, but the longer he was here and the more he got to know these people, the more he found himself enjoying them.
He never thought he would smile again, let alone find simple joys in life again. After his wife and daughter were murdered…who believes they’ll be happy after a tragedy like that? He certainly never did. His only thoughts had been of revenge these last few years. But now? He was beginning to focus on other things and it felt good. And that made him feel guilty. What right did he have to be happy when his Jesse and Grace were in the ground?
It was a constant struggle that he was wrestling with.
He was an observer. He was content in that role. Being drawn in, being pulled into a family dynamic, that wasn’t him. So he tried to stay back, to not involve himself. But it wasn’t always possible.
Like right now. Knox was hunched over her laptop, doing something he was pretty sure she knew she shouldn’t be doing. She kept glancing over her shoulder, sneaking peeks at him and the other people in the room. Normally she was relaxed, laughing and joking with everyone. Not today.
Kipling walked over and blatantly looked over her shoulder.
“Isn’t Juan Alvarez one of our clients?” Knox jumped, immediately pushing down the lid of her computer. “What are you up to?”
She took her time in turning to face him. “It was just a favor.”
“For who? Elliott?”
Knox clearly didn’t want to tell me. She looked everywhere but at my face, hmm-ing and ha-ing the whole time.
“Look, Knox,” he said, bending low so that he could speak close to her ear, “I’m not the boss here. David is. I’m just here to consult.”
She glanced at him, clearly wondering if she could trust him. Kipling stepped back and waited.
“Okay,” she finally said, gesturing for him to steal a chair from the desk beside hers. Once he was seated, she said, “He called me at home this morning. The wife is apparently telling him stories about our client. He wanted verification.”
“What kind of stories?”
“That the guy is in the Mexican mafia.”
“That’s quite an accusation.”
Knox opened her computer and turned it around so that Kipling could see the screen.
“Where did you get this?” he asked after only perusing a few lines.
“A CIA friend of mine. He pulled a couple of strings.”
Kipling touched the mousepad and moved to the next page and then the next. A great weight settled on his shoulders as he did.
“I’ll go have a conversation with David.”
Knox jerked back a little, almost as if he’d hit her. “You said—”
“This is big, Knox. Elliott’s in over his head. David needs to be told.”
He could see that she understood what he was saying, and he could see the concern in her eyes for her friend. But he could also see that she didn’t want to betray his trust.
“You can tell him I came across it on accident. Tell him that I stole your laptop while you were in the head or something.”
She chuckled a little, pushing the computer toward me. “If David asks, you don’t know where I got this info. I can’t burn my contact.”
“No problem.”
Kipling touched her shoulder as he turned to go. “Call Elliott. Let him know what you found out and suggest he be prepared to extricate himself from the situation.”
She nodded, a weight clearly settling on her shoulders. She wasn’t pleased with the way this had gone, but he could also see that she was resigned.
Her part was done now, but he felt like he was about to open a huge can of worms.
Chapter 10
Brooks
His hand slid slowly up my thigh as he drove with just one hand. I found myself wishing I was the kind of girl who wore skirts, but the heat radiating through the thin fabric of my slacks was pretty exciting all on its own.
I smiled. It was as if this smile wouldn’t leave my face. Whenever I looked at him, whenever I thought about him, whenever I moved and the soreness of what we’d done shot through my body…I couldn’t stop smiling. I wanted to curl up in his arms and drag him back to my bed and never leave it again. As it was, I thought we wouldn’t emerge this day. If not fo
r Jimmy and the meeting with his doctor, we probably wouldn’t have—and I would have been perfectly okay with that.
I stared out the window, afraid that every thought and every emotion were written all over my face. I didn’t know much about romance or love or relationships, but I did know that letting a man know—within forty-eight hours of meeting him—that you were head over heels crazy about him was unwise. But I couldn’t help it. I was insanely crazy about Elliott.
I wanted to tell myself that I was being stupid, that I didn’t know him that well, and I was trusting my feelings to a man who might do this sort of thing with every girl he worked with. It didn’t matter what he’d said. How was I supposed to know if he was telling the truth? When Juan came back and sent Elliott away, he might just go. I had no way of knowing that he would keep his word to me. Or that if he did, if he somehow got me out of this sham of a marriage, I didn’t know that he would want to be with me when it was all said and done. There were so many things I didn’t know about him, about the thoughts in his head, about what the future might bring. But I didn’t care. For the first time in my life, I could honestly say I didn’t care.
I really just wanted to enjoy this, to enjoy the feel of his hand on my leg, to remember the pleasure he offered me last night and again this morning. I wanted to remember how kind he was, how gentle. I wanted to remember how different that first moment could have been if he’d been different. That’s all.
I was almost disappointed when the institute’s hulking building came into sight and Elliott moved his hand to use both on the wheel.
“What’s going to happen here, anyway?” he asked, as he threw the SUV into park.
“I don’t know. I think we’re just going to see Jimmy and talk to him for a while.”
“And then?”
I shook my head. “I’m hoping they’ll tell me what they’ve been doing for him this past year and where they see him going in the next year. I’m hoping they’ll tell me that I’ll have my brother back—at least in some form—when all of this is said and done. That it’s all been worth it.”
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