Choosing Rena

by Dakota Trace

  Rena nodded. “Just a bit roughed up and the asshole is being escorted by two of Chicago’s finest down to the local precinct.” She winced as she caught sight of one of the clocks on the wall. “Shit, I’d love to stay and talk, but I really have to go. I’m already late.”

  “I understand. Just meet us after you get done with your shift, Rena.” His plea wasn’t lost on her. The damned man always did know how to talk me into anything. “We’ll make it worth your while.”

  She shook her head. “Now, Dieter, when have you ever known me to be swayed by money? What’s Louis done that’s so damn bad his mother flew half way across the country to find me?”

  Dieter pushed up his silver framed glasses, reinforcing his bookworm appearance. “It’s what he hasn’t done. Mrs. Vayarti has a business proposition which has nothing to do with him - other than the fact he’s forbidden her to open another art gallery.”

  “So you’re telling me this is business? Not some ploy to have me talk some sense into the bastard?”

  His eyes softened. “If it was, I wouldn’t have come. The way Mr. Vayarti handled the situation between you two leaves a bitter taste in my mouth….”

  She held up a hand. “All right – I can’t believe I’m doing this, but meet me at the Tokyo Lunch Boxes at one o’clock sharp. It’s when I take my lunch.” She gestured across the way to the brightly lit restaurant. “Don’t be late because I only get thirty minutes to eat.”

  Without waiting for his agreement, she brushed past him, ignoring his thank you. She couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed to meet them but she’d never had a beef with Dieter or Elizebetta – just the cheating asshole his employer had birthed.

  * * * *

  Rena was surprised how fast her shift flew by, but really shouldn’t have been. The hot weather had driven more than a fair share of the teenagers inside – particularly the ones who lived to make mall security’s job more entertaining. I swear if we confiscate one more skateboard, we’ll have enough to open up our own shop. Christ, I don’t know which is worse - them or the idiots on rollerblades.

  “Rena, we’ve got a black male teenager. Possibly gang affiliated, approximately six three, two hundred pounds on blades heading your way. Suspect is wearing a red polo, black jean shorts and a White Sox hat. Suspected of theft and is probably thinking to escape apprehension via CTA station on the concourse level. Copy?” Hank’s voice advised through her earpiece.

  Hiding the movement of activating her earpiece by pressing a button on her mp3 player, she replied softly, “Copy that.” Tossing her empty paper cup into a nearby receptacle, she casually made her way towards the CTA station, keeping her eyes peeled. Less than thirty seconds later, she caught a flash of fast moving red with a White Sox baseball cap. “Spotted suspect and moving to intercept.” Shifting the heavy tote off her shoulder, she let it slide down her arm and stepped directly into the path of the fleeing assailant. As he swerved to miss her, she swung the bag, hitting the young man directly in the chest.

  “Ump!” The huge teenager teetered precariously as he bounced off her before crashing into the seating area for Dunkin’ Donuts. A shrill scream came from a mother balancing not only her coffee but a tray full of goodies for her kids as she went down under the man. The cups and the treats went flying. The kids, a small boy of eight stood there with wide eyes and his mouth agape, while an older boy began smacking the teenager with a GNC bag he was carrying. If it wouldn’t have blown her cover, she’d have laughed outright. Well at least until the son of a bitch knocked the older boy down. Her blood froze when he balled up a fist to hit the child.

  “Little fuckin brat!” The teen swung, his blow connecting and the young boy started crying.

  Fury had her pushing through the crowd, uncaring she was blowing her cover. Then a familiar blond grabbed the teen and gave him a rough shake. Her heart stopped as the warm molasses drawl with the slightest hint of spice reached her ears.

  “Feet pue tan!” Jackson cursed as the teenager swung at him, his wild swing glancing off Jackson’s shoulder. Her eyes widened when Jackson retaliated, backhanding the punk. Rena’s ears began to burn as Jackson explained the difference between trying to beat on him and a scared ten year old. She hadn’t heard such eloquent Cajun since the last time she’d royally pissed Jackson off – and he certainly hadn’t ever called her a cold son of a bitch, but he had used those words about the man who’d shot at them in Ireland.

  The security guards swarmed the area as Jackson continued to berate the poor fool, smacking him each time the young man tried to lash out at him. As her fellow guards surrounded them, he finally gave the boy one last shake before shoving the youth into the hands of the waiting security guards, but not without one final warning. “Real men dôn hit shas. Little ones are innocent – remember dat – or I guarantee I’ll be back to kick your tchew.”

  Rena froze as his eyes caught hers, promising something. But before she could figure out what, he turned to help the mother stand. His gentleness now was at odds with the violence she’d just witnessed. It was just another intriguing layer to the Dom who wanted to claim her as his. The soft beeping of her alarm sounding in her ear jerked her back, reminding her of an appointment she had to keep. Merging back into the crowd, she needed to disappear before Jackson could reach her.

  Walking casually by where Dieter and Elizebetta were sitting, watching the commotion as more security guards and cops swarmed the eating area, she paused by their table. Placing her hand on Elizebetta’s arm, she caught the woman’s attention.

  “Rena…did you see that man? He actually hit that child!” The woman seemed aghast at the situation.

  “Indeed he did.” Rena kept her voice low. “Meet me upstairs at Ronnie’s Steak House.”

  Without waiting for her agreement, Rena was on the move, blending into the crowd of people exiting the CTA station. She was paid to hide in plain sight, and now more than ever she was glad she was good at her job. There was no way she’d be having lunch today at the Tokyo Lunch Box as planned. It was too close to Jackson Levough and even as curious as she was about what Dieter or Elizebetta might possibly want, it wasn’t worth the risk of another encounter with the blue-eyed devil. She refused to think how cowardly her actions were – rather telling herself she was being prudent by avoiding him.

  * * * *

  Clenching his jaw, Jackson fought the urge to follow Rena as she vanished into the crowd. Dabbing at the corner of his mouth with a napkin where the punk had managed to get a lucky blow in, he was helpless to follow her. He had to deal with the police first. But he’d known once she realized he’d been shadowing her, she would disappear like a wisp of smoke in a thunderstorm. And losing her again pissed him off.

  “Mr. Levough, I see you’ve returned, despite how many times I’ve told you to stay away?” The exasperated tone from behind him wasn’t a surprise.

  Pivoting, he gave the man a rueful smile. Behind him, Hank Mancini, the guard who’d detained him long enough for Rena to escape, didn’t look amused. Everything from his furrowed brow to his crossed arms and spread legs made Jackson think of an older, pissed off Sylvester Stallone. “Hank! How have you been?”

  With his arms over his wide chest, Hank raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m getting tired of you lurking behind garbage cans and spying on a certain undercover security guard.”

  Tossing his arm over the shorter man’s shoulder, he gave him a one-armed hug. “Come on, don’t be that way, mon ami. If I hadn’t been here, your suspect would’ve either possibly hurt someone or said guard would’ve blown her cover in the process.”

  “While I can’t deny the fact you were able to help out in this situation, was it really necessary to smack the man around? According to his ID he’s only seventeen.”

  He dropped his arm from Hank’s shoulder and his voice went cold. “If he’s old enough to steal, flee from security and strike a child, then he’s man enough to accept the consequences.”

  Hank held up his hand
s. “I agree whole-heartedly but somehow I don’t think the Chicago P.D. is going to agree with you, nor do the members of his gang.” Running a hand through his salt-n-peppered hair, he nodded to the group of black gang-bangers watching the proceedings from across the food court. “I’ll bet anything this stunt was some kinda of initiation, and those guys don’t look none too happy about your interference.”

  He shrugged. It mattered not to him. If they thought they could take on a former Ranger and win – all the more power to them. He’d be prepared. “Better they be pissed at me than set their sights on Rena.” For that he’d kill them – no questions asked. She was his – even if she didn’t realize it yet.

  Hank sighed. “You have a death wish, Levough?”

  Jackson chuckled. “No, why do you ask?”

  Hank shook his head. “First you piss off a damn fine woman until she’s ready to murder you in your sleep, and then you stalk her at work. Now to top it all off, during said stalking, you interfere with her job by beating the piss out of a possible gang member.”

  Before he could answer, a young uniformed cop with a massive chip on his shoulder joined them. Jackson could tell by the way the cop’s hand rested on the butt of his gun as he gave him the once over before deciding he wasn’t a threat then addressing Hank. “I’ll take the witness off your hands, now, so you can get back to your rounds.”

  When Hank opened his mouth to protest, the guy glared at him. “After all, I’m a trained police officer and I’m sure you have other things to do – like catch shoplifters.” He reached out to grab Jackson’s arm. “Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to come with me.”

  With a smooth move he evaded the man’s grasp and gave Hank a rueful smile, totally ignoring the cop simply because he knew it would piss the guy off. If there was anything he hated more than bullies, it was bullies with a badge. “Do you reckon they’ll let me go with a warning? After all, I didn’t hurt him too much.” Walking a few feet over to the nearest trash receptacle, he tossed the bloodied napkin into it.

  The cop followed him, this time lunging at Jackson then managing to snag his arm. “I don’t find this the least bit funny, Sir. Now unless you want me to take you down right here, you need to come with me.” The forceful tone did little to impress Jackson. He’d heard sharper barks from his daddy than this young punk.

  He glanced down at his arm, donning his Ranger persona to stare down the other man. “You have less than three seconds to release me, Son, before I show you how bad you actually aren’t.”

  “Are you threatening an officer?”

  Keeping his tone even, he shook his head. “No. Just making a statement of fact.”

  “Kalinski, what the hell are you doing?” Another cop, this one wearing a suit and a crew cut joined him.

  This cop Jackson recognized and respected, unlike junior here. He’d worked with Sean Anderson several times over the past two years in the training courses for urban war tactics which he and Jude had provided for the city. He was a good man and a more than competent cop without being overbearing.

  Kalinski looked over his shoulder. “The witness is being difficult, Detective Anderson. I was just giving him a helping hand…”

  “Boy, you’re lucky he isn’t giving you a broken one. Jackson Levough is one of the guys who wrote our urban tactics course material. Now do yourself a favor and release him before you end up with fewer working fingers than you started out with.”

  The kid dropped Jackson’s arm, but glared at him as he stormed off.

  “Sorry about that, Jackson. Fresh from the academy and he’s already got a chip on his shoulder a mile wide. I wonder where they find them.”

  “No problem. I was just being ornery and didn’t want to give Super Cop my statement. You know me…”

  The other cop laughed. “Yep, I do. So how about you give it to me instead, so I can get you on your way?”

  Jackson slapped his shoulder. “Sure why not? But can we grab a cup of joe? I had to drop mine to deal with that asshole over there. My treat.” Jackson turned to Hank, who seemed stunned by what had just happened. “You’re welcome to join us too.”

  Hank’s mouth opened twice before he could speak. “You let me manhandle you the day we met…but why?”

  Jackson understood what the other man was asking. “You were protecting her. And she needs someone watching her back, particularly when she’s at work. I can’t be around all the time. Now let’s go get that cup of coffee.”

  Chapter Four

  “So, let me get this right.” Rena played with the straw in her sweet tea while making eye contact with Elizebetta. Around them the normal lunch crowd was enjoying steak and the casual atmosphere Ronnie’s provided. And she was happy they’d gotten a table at the back, which wasn’t visible from the entryway of the mall. Even with Ronnie’s one floor up and located on the other side of the mall, she wasn’t taking a chance Jackson might catch her again. She shouldn’t be so worried about it. She was a trained security expert, and he’d have a hell of a battle taking her by surprise. But it was more her own response she feared. It would be all too easy to forget why she shouldn’t give into him. But now wasn’t the time to worry about Jackson Levough, because she was here because of a position Elizebetta wanted her to fill. “You want me to not only set up, but also run the security for your new art gallery here in Chicago? One which your son is adamant you not start?”

  Elizebetta nodded. “Whether my son likes it or not, I’m going to open this gallery, Rena. Since his father passed away last year, I’ve been surrounded by nothing, but memories. I need a change of pace…something new that doesn’t remind me of what I’ve lost. A place to start a new life for myself.”

  Her heart softened because she knew exactly how the other woman felt. She too had come to Chicago looking for a new start. “I was sorry to hear about your husband, Elizebetta. I saw his obituary in the paper before I left New York, but with things the way they were I didn’t feel comfortable enough after the break-up to stop by and offer my condolences….” That’s an understatement of the century.

  Just before his father had died, Louis had kicked her out with nothing more than the clothing on her back. Thankfully she’d refused to have her checks deposited into Louis’s account or she’d have been truly destitute. She’d been lucky enough to have a small nest egg built up because after she’d told him where he could go with his idea that she would share him with another sub, Louis had pulled his business’s account from the security company she’d worked for. She could’ve weathered that; however, his constant bad-mouthing had convinced other clients to pull their accounts and eventually forced Star Security into Chapter Eleven bankruptcy. But not before it cost me my job.

  “Nonsense, this deal with my son…well, needless to say, he didn’t treat you very well and a lot of people suffered in the end.” Elizebetta motioned to her assistant. “I, on the other hand, recognize what a talented woman you are and will treat you well. I’ve had Dieter prepare a very generous employment package if you agree to my offer.” Dieter withdrew a manila folder from his briefcase and handed it to Elizebetta. She glanced over it before setting it on the table in front of Rena.

  “I’m sure you’ll find this offer quite beneficial for all concerned. Considering what you’re making here, you’d be a fool not to take this job. Not only are we willing to nearly triple what you’re currently being paid, this opportunity could be your entry back into the high end security work you enjoyed so much in New York.”

  Rena forced herself to calmly pick up the file. Opening it, she scanned the top page of the document. It seemed straight-forward enough, but as with anything in life, if it looked too good to be true…it probably was. “I need to have a lawyer go over this before I decide anything, Elizebetta. I hope you can understand. I need to make sure I can provide all aspects of what you’re wanting before I can agree to anything.”

  When the woman opened her mouth to protest, Dieter placed his hand on Elizebetta’s, obviously
comforting the woman. “She’s not doubting you, but merely doing what any person with her training would do, Lizzy. I’d have thought it more suspicious if she’d just signed it outright without consulting counsel.”

  Rena’s eyes widened as she picked up vibes she hadn’t before. Was Dieter actually in a relationship with the formidable Elizebetta Vayarti? Even though Dieter was several years younger than Elizebetta, it wouldn’t be the first time a younger man had lost his heart to a more mature woman.

  A trembling smile graced Elizebetta’s lips. “Are you sure, Diet?”

  The man smiled down at his employer. “Yes, of course.” He turned back to Rena. “Please take all the time you need. We’re not heading back to New York until at least the end of the month and that will be to supervise the transfer of select pieces from Lizzy’s New York gallery.”

  Picking up the file, Rena shoved it into her bag. “How do I get ahold of you?”

  Dieter pulled a card out of his briefcase and scribbled a number on the backside of the card. “Here’s the hotel and room number where we’re staying until the closing on our new home is finalized.”

  Tapping her fingers on the table, she cocked her head. “Your home? Then I’m not mistaken that you and Mrs. Vayarti are…shall we say…romantically involved?”

  Elizebetta blushed, licking her lips before her eyes darted to Dieter. “It wasn’t planned, but yes and it’s one of the main reasons I’ve decided to move out here. Louis is definitely not happy about it.”

  She arched an eyebrow at the couple. “Fuck Louis! If you’re happy that’s what counts.” She could’ve laughed as Elizebetta’s eyes widened, then she giggled.

  “I couldn’t have said it better, Rena.” Dieter took a sip of his water as the waiter approached with their food. “Now, why don’t we enjoy our lunch before you have to go back to work?”