His Light in the Dark

by L. A. Fiore

  Dropping the empty beer bottle in the recycle bin, I headed to the bathroom and stripped before turning on the water and stepping under the spray. Thoughts of Mia that night in her dorm room filled my head. The taste of her on my tongue, the way her body responded to me, her small hand wrapping around my cock, the hesitation in her movements because it was all so new to her. She fucking offered me her virginity, a mere shift of my hips and she would have been mine. I had wanted that so badly, I hadn’t even given a thought to a condom. Never had regret, but I regretted not taking her that night. Should have that night and every night after it. Remembering her kneeling on the edge of the bed after I came on her stomach. I never had the need to taste myself on someone, but with her I craved it, needed it like I needed air: the confirmation that she really was mine. Pressing my hand against the tiled wall of the shower, I worked the tip of my cock, my hips moving into the motion as I thought of the sounds Mia made when my tongue was buried in her and how I wanted to drive my cock into that wet, tight place; wanted to hear her scream my name when I did. Gripping my cock at the base, I jerked off harder and faster and wished like hell it were Mia’s sweet body milking me.

  Tickled Ivories was crowded tonight and maybe with luck there’d be some trouble so I could release the lingering tension with my fists—a tension that hadn’t yet settled since my confrontation with Mia from a couple nights ago. Usually I worked a bag, had learned to control my temper and despite what I led Mia to believe, I never fought out of anger, only once. I had killed him, wanted to kill him, didn’t have a problem with doing juvie for that. People had looked at me differently when I had returned home, some in fear, some in disbelief, some in confirmation. I didn’t really give a shit what most people thought, only what Mace and Mia thought. Mace had been a good man, stood up for me at every turn. It was why I was doing the same for him; not letting his murder go unsolved and protecting his daughter, even if that meant from me.

  A call came in over the radio. “Cole, there’s trouble at the door.”

  “I’ll be right there.”

  A half an hour later after giving the drunk and rowdy birthday boy a free drink for his 21st birthday, I had the bouncer show him and his friends from the club. Heading back to my office, I scanned the place looking for trouble as I had a habit of doing. As soon as I opened my office door, my body went hard seeing Mia standing by my desk looking out the window. She turned to me, her gaze searching before she moved to the sofa and sat down.

  “Cole.”

  “Mia.”

  “I hope my popping over is okay. I have something to say, but it won’t take long.”

  The way her body moved, her husky voice, those cat eyes that had the power to burrow past all of my defenses. My instinct was to lock the door, pull her to my desk, and fuck her, hard, and not just jerk off to the thought of it like I had the other night. Instead, I went to the bar in the corner and poured myself a whiskey.

  “You want a drink?”

  “No, thanks.”

  Taking a hit to ease the burning, I turned to her and leaned up against the bar. “I’m listening.”

  “Your speech was very well done, you know the one you so eloquently shared that night at my house. I suppose you thought telling me those things about you would turn me off. You lived in hell and needed out and though I don’t condone how you made your living, I understand what led you to it.”

  Shock was quickly followed with possession. My deepest shame and she absolved me without a thought.

  “And as far as you thinking you’ve become your father, you are nothing like your father. My dad loved you and my dad was a very smart man. He not only allowed me in your sphere, he actually went out of his way to make sure I was in your sphere. And since he loved me above all else, he would only do that if he completely trusted and respected you.

  “Now you might have some kind of hang up that you’re not good enough for me or some such shit. But considering we lived right next door to each other for a time and you worked for my dad, I see us on equal footing. So Cole, here’s the deal. I want you, that good man you mentioned I should find, I’ve already found him. When you get over your little drama here and come to the inevitable conclusion that you and I belong together, you know where to find me.”

  She stood, my fingers were digging into the bar behind me because damn I wanted her, was using ever bit of will I had to keep myself on this side of the room. Equal footing, good man…Jesus she was breaking me down. As if she knew what her words were doing to me, she moved toward me stopping just shy of her breasts touching my chest. My cock went hard. “You want me as badly as I want you.” Her finger trailed down from my chest to my waist, brushing the tip of my erection. Her gaze following her finger before she looked up at me through her lashes and smiled. She knew exactly what she was doing to me. And where the hell had this Mia come from? She sauntered to the door, stopping just in the threshold to offer her parting words. “I ache for you and I’m growing tired of easing that ache and pretending it’s you.” Her gaze drifted down my body, her smile turning wicked before those cat eyes moved back to my face. “Call me.”

  Sitting in the shadows at Tickled Ivories, I watched as Mia and her friend Janie chatted up Claire, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from Mia and the sadness that lurked just behind hers. I knew that, at least in part, I was the reason that look was there.

  Thinking about her the other night in my office still got me hard. Hell, the woman didn’t need to do anything to turn me on. She was right that I wanted her as badly as she did me. Yes, I thought to stay away to keep her safe, but I could just as easily keep her safe with her right at my side. The truth was I thought I was being selfless by not taking what I wanted. I had feared that if she spent too much time with me my darkness would snuff out her light, but it was more than that. I didn’t want to hold her back. I wasn’t leaving the neighborhood, but Mia could if she wanted. Mace had worked hard so that she would have opportunities and I didn’t want nostalgia getting in the way of that. But after her speech, and despite her theatrics, her feelings for me ran as deeply as mine did for her. It wasn’t infatuation or misplaced affection, like I had always thought. That changed the game.

  Two guys approached the bar, their intentions obvious though I was surprised it had taken as long as it had for the men to descend. Mia smiled at the one, but her smile didn’t reach her expressive eyes. Possession whipped through me when the man touched her lower back, barely a touch, and yet I wanted to rip his arm from its socket. She was mine, always had been.

  Mace had been a good man. Not just trying to keep my father from me, taking me in, giving me a home and later a job, but he had fought for me when I got out, despite the fact that it was me he was fighting. Losing Mace had been really fucking hard, but not knowing the how and the why, made it even harder. Stein was behind Mace’s death, I’d bet money on it. Egotistical didn’t even come close to describing that asshole. He wanted his legacy to be singlehandedly changing the face of South Philly and with the location of Mace’s garage, that land was his golden goose. What I didn’t get was if Stein was being so closely monitored, how the hell did he, or his hired man, slip through the surveillance to get to Mace? It was part of the reason that I had stayed so close to Mia because the cops seemed to be dropping the damn ball and if Mia got a bug up her ass, she’d start asking the wrong questions to the wrong people. Stein wouldn’t even think twice about shutting her up and just the thought of her meeting her dad’s fate, no fucking way.

  Bruce had some updates on the case, wanted to meet, but after Mia’s visit to my office, I was taking a step back. My focus now was her and she didn’t need to get any more tangled up in this shit.

  I couldn’t help the grin because if I appeared on Mia’s doorstep, took what she’d been offering for so long, she’d likely think she was hallucinating. As much as I loved the idea of knocking her off balance, going to her was about more than that. I’d hurt her. At the time I knew I was because it had been done wit
h her best interest in mind, but hearing her say we weren’t friends…I couldn’t let her believe that. Her random visits to my office, I fucking lived for them. If she wanted all or nothing, I’d give it all to her because she may have waited all of her life for me to come to her, but I’d been waiting all of my life for the time when I could go to her.

  Aunt Dee sat across from me in her living room while I studied a picture of Dad and me taken the day I started university. As ugly and unbelievable as the situation was surrounding his death, I couldn’t keep the truth from Aunt Dee any longer. She knew something was up because I’d been quiet since I arrived a half an hour ago. How exactly did you tell someone news like I had to share?

  “Mia, what’s going on?”

  Lifting my gaze from the picture, I saw my dad in her even stare, which made speaking that much harder.

  “I don’t know how else to say this then to just say it. There’s a chance that Dad’s death wasn’t an accident.”

  The words hadn’t registered with Aunt Dee immediately, her focus still fixed on me yet she had no reaction. It took a minute or two before pain and outrage washed over her face. “What? How do you know that?”

  “Kevin Lowell told me that someone in a case he was working claimed credit for killing Dad. I didn’t believe him so I visited Bruce and he confirmed it. I even talked to Cole and, after some persuasion, he admitted that he was already thinking along those lines.”

  “Who would want to kill your dad?”

  “Stein.”

  “Stein?”

  “He wanted Dad’s garage, or the land anyway, and his hired man had attempted to intimidate Dad through me.”

  “Wanting land and being a dick about getting it is one thing, but murder…that’s a stretch.”

  “I agree, but who else then?”

  “His death was ruled an accident.”

  “Apparently there were some inconsistencies in the ME’s report.”

  “And yet his death was still ruled an accident. Why?”

  “I don’t know and honestly, I find myself having trouble believing any of this. Losing Dad was so hard but now there are all these questions with no answers. And having to face that Dad may have been intentionally killed, I hate thinking that, but if there’s even a slight chance it’s true, I needed to tell you.”

  Aunt Dee started to pace the living room, her thoughts very transparent. “No, I agree but I just can’t get my head around the idea that Mace’s death was anything but a horrible accident. Our neighborhood has problems but I can’t believe they’re as bad as all of that.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “So what’s happening, have they re-opened your dad’s case?”

  “I don’t know, but I do know that both Bruce and Cole are determined to learn what really happened that night. I guess we just have to sit back and wait for the answers.”

  Settling on the edge of the sofa, I noticed that her eyes were moist and I wondered what she was thinking. I didn’t wonder for long. “He would have fought.”

  My own eyes burned. “I know.”

  Fury replaced pain. “If someone killed my brother…”

  “Agreed, I want some time alone with them too. Have you found Dad’s accounting books from the shop?”

  “Yeah, I have them.”

  “Can you put them aside for me? I want to look through them, but I’m just not in the right frame of mind.”

  “Sure. What are you thinking?”

  “Nothing, just trying to get a better picture of things right before—”

  I didn’t finish the thought and she didn’t need me to. “Gotcha.” Pulling a hand through her hair she rested back on the sofa. “This all seems so unreal, Mia, and I got to say, I don’t know that I believe it. Do I believe that Stein is a greedy bastard? Absolutely. Do I believe he has used less than savory practices to get what he wants? Sure, most with wealth do bend the rules. But murder? I can’t get myself to believe it.”

  “You’re not the only one, but if there’s a chance it’s true, I want to know.”

  “Agreed, but Mia you may not get closure. I know how your mind works because Mace was the same. You may not ever be able to explain your dad’s death. You may have to face that it was just a senseless tragedy and learn to move on from that.”

  “You’re right. I know that, I do.”

  “Have you told Dylan?”

  “No and I’m not sure we should. I haven’t seen him since my last visit, but he’s not coping well.”

  “I haven’t seen him either, but I'll make a point of stopping by. You’re probably right; we shouldn’t drop this on him if he's having such a hard time as it is. Well, I don’t know about you, but I could use a drink.” Aunt Dee said as she stood and headed for the kitchen.

  “Make mine a double.”

  It was late, after eight, and I was still at the office with Freddie boy. The projects he had threatened me with were as time consuming as he had stated and part of me was grateful since focusing on work kept me from thinking about anything else. It’d been a week since Aunt Dee and I talked and I knew she was having as hard a time with the events surrounding Dad’s death as me. We were simple people, so to find ourselves in the middle of a drama fit for a Lifetime television movie was as unbelievable as it was frustrating.

  “Mia, these deductions need to be itemized.”

  Freddie boy was actually quite brilliant; his focus was mostly on forensic accounting, which I thought was a fascinating field. He was also relentless in his demands but he did work every bit as hard as me, so I couldn’t complain about him slacking. I was curious though; why had he selected me for this assignment when he was as intolerant of me after hours as he was during the regular workday?

  “I’m working on the itemizations now. Why did you put me on this with you? It’s pretty high profile and I’m not your favorite employee.”

  His head lifted, his stare direct. “You’re very good at what you do.”

  “So you’re not going to debate the fact that I’m not your favorite person.”

  “It isn’t personal.”

  “It kind of feels personal.”

  He placed his pencil down and leaned back in his chair, reaching for his can of Coke. “Maybe I see a lot of me in you.”

  God, I hoped not. Was becoming bitter and unhappy in my future? “In what way?”

  “You love what you do.”

  “I do. Doesn’t explain why you ride my ass all the time.”

  “Maybe I’m just pushing you to be better.”

  “Feels more like you’re pushing me out the door.”

  “Maybe I am.”

  Surprised that he admitted it, I held his even stare. “Why?”

  “Maybe you raised the bar.”

  “What bar?”

  Dismissing my question, he reached for his pencil again. “It’s getting late. Let’s finish this up. We can work more tomorrow.”

  Pressing the point was useless, he was done sharing, but now I was more confused than before I opened my mouth. Hopefully there wouldn’t be any backlash from him after he’d had time to process my rather blunt and candid comments.

  The following day at work, I walked on eggshells in fear that my boss, having the evening to ponder my words from last night, had cooked up new ways to torture me, but so far he stayed silent. My office phone gave me a reprieve from the worrying and I answered with far more enthusiasm than I actually felt.

  “Mia Donati.”

  “Mia, it’s your mother, Cynthia.”

  Shock, to hear her over the line, was quickly replaced with irritation. How the hell did she get my office number?

  “You’re not my mother and how did you get this number?”

  “I’d like to talk.”

  “I’d like to look like a young Cindy Crawford.”

  “Mia.” There was anger in that one word, which only served to light a fire under my own.

  “You’re taking a tone with me? Seriously? Do you think that w
ill work?”

  “I want to talk to you about Mace.”

  “No, you don’t get to talk about my dad.”

  “It’s important but I don’t want to do this over the phone. Please Mia, I’m asking you to put your dislike of me aside and meet with me.”

  It was her tone, desperation like I had heard that night she’d come to the house, which piqued my interest. “I have your card, I’ll call you.”

  “Soon.”

  “Okay.” Reluctance unfurled in my gut as I returned the receiver because I had a terrible feeling whatever it was Cynthia had to say was going to be something I really didn’t want to hear.

  “Mia, my office.”

  Ah shit. Here we go. He was just laying in wait, allowing me to have a false sense of security before he lowered the boom. This day was turning out to be a really crappy one. All I needed to make it officially ranked as the worst freaking day at the office was for Kevin to call me and I’ll have experienced the trifecta of suck today. I had only just passed over the threshold of his office when he jumped right on in.

  “Personal calls at work?”

  This was a new line of attack for him. “Not sure how she got my number, but I don’t think she’ll be calling again.”

  “Despite your excellent work, I’ve been thinking about our conversation from last night. If you’re not comfortable with my managerial style, maybe you should look for work elsewhere.”

  Was he serious? Maybe he should change his style from that of a douchebag. “I like my job.” I wanted to add I could do without scenes like this one, but to what end?

  “To be a truly valuable member of this team, it isn’t just quality of work but also attitude. If you’re unhappy it’ll have an impact on your attitude, which could impact the productivity of my team.”

  Attitude? If anyone’s attitude sucked, it wasn’t mine. Was this really because of last night and my rather candid comments or was there more to it? I hadn’t had any complaints about my work from my clients, just the opposite in fact, or had there been?