I looked at the bagel in front of me and pushed it away, my appetite lost. The sounds in the coffee shop drilled into my brain and amplified my headache. I shut Danielle’s voice out as she droned on and on about how happy she was with Charles, and how I needed to find someone the way she had, someone I could grow old with.
But that was the point, even though I could never tell her. I had someone I wanted to grow old with. But that was over. I sighed remembering that fateful day a decade ago.
God! Had it really been so long?
A faint smile played at the edge of my lips as I remembered that last time with Bono in the stationery cupboard. If only I’d left when he did. I could have gone into the office early the next morning to finish the work needed. I could have done a million things differently, and I’d thought about each and every one of them countless times over the years.
Danielle was right. There was nothing wrong with the men she set me up with. It was all me. How could I hope to have a relationship with anyone when I’d forever be in love with Bono? Even if I did find someone new, there was no saying I wouldn’t have to up sticks and move on again. Special Agent Weathers from WITSEC could be knocking down my door and have me moving to a new state with a new identity any minute day or night.
No. Better to keep myself to myself and accept that as my fate.
“Jesus, Hope,” Danielle said. “Don’t you want to be happy?”
“No. That ship has sailed,” I said after a moment. “Besides, I’m busy.”
Danielle rolled her eyes and took a sip of her coffee. “You are not too busy. We work in the same office, remember? When you’re not with me, you go straight home and don’t say a word to anyone, and don’t you pretend otherwise.”
“That is so not true. You know I go to the range on weekends, and there’s my Jiu-jitsu class every Tuesday and Friday.”
“Yay, you like to go out and kick or shoot things.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the expression on her face but sighed when I remembered the reason why I did those things.
Danielle reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I’m not asking you to jump in and marry the guy after the first date. I’m just asking that you meet with him and see if you hit it off. If nothing else, you’ll get a free dinner out of it. You need someone, Hope. I know how lonely and closed off you are, even if you’ve never shared what made you that way.”
I found it a little unnerving that Danielle could read me like a book, and worried that we were getting too close. It was getting hard to keep things from her.
I took a deep, calming breath, slowly released it, and hailed the waiter for the bill.
Maybe I was the one who needed to call my handler and tell him it was time to move on.
I slumped back in my chair and felt all the resolve go out of me. One meeting. Just to keep Danielle happy, and then I’d have to seriously think about a change of scenery.
“He gets one date,” I said. “And it has to be somewhere crowded with lots of people.” Somewhere he wouldn’t make a scene if I decided the date was more trouble than it was worth. Which I already knew it was.
“One date,” Danielle agreed. “For now. You won’t regret it.”
~
You won’t regret it, I scoffed to myself, four hours later when I handed my car keys over to the valet. I already did. My stomach knotted and my heart pounded so hard in my chest, I thought even the doorman could hear it.
Despite the rush to get ready and my nerves at meeting Jim — Fuck! Was his name Jim or Tim? — I’d pulled out all the stops. At least then, Danielle couldn’t say I didn’t try. My body was freshly shaven and smelt delicious, even if I did say so myself, like cherry-blossom body wash. My long brown hair was styled so curls tousled gently over my one shoulder, and my lips were coated with pure-passion pink lipsticks. Even my dress was chosen to accentuate my best features. It was a gold, lace bodycon-dress that clung to me in all the right places and made me feel like a million dollars. My only regret was that Bono wasn’t the one who got to see me in it.
I huffed out a sigh. Ten years! Jesus. I needed to stop living in the past.
I nodded my thanks to the doorman as he ushered me inside and couldn’t help but notice his eyes traveling the length of my body. Yep, I looked good.
Maybe, it was time I gave someone a shot. Jim... or Tim, this just might be your lucky night. Depending on how you look at things.
With my head held high and a new resolve keeping my back straight, I walked towards the hostess.
The restaurant was filled with people. Their voices created a vibe that buzzed through my skin and caused me to shiver. I’d never eaten at The Chandlery before. It was way too expensive for my pocket. Plus, I heard you had to reserve a table two months in advance. Danielle’s set-up either had to be well connected or pretty rich to pull tonight off.
The churning in my stomach increased as I scanned the faces around the bar, wondering if my date was amongst them.
A large man, more muscular and broader than any of the others stood and smiled at me, but it was the man a few seats away from him that caught my eye. He wore a suit, which even from the back, I could tell was designer-labeled. His hair was short and dark, and I could see the briefest outline of his face.
The heady scent of wine dizzied my senses and made me realize how parched my throat had become. I stared at the man as dread built inside me, even as the muscle-man made his way towards me. My stomach churned and I thought I might throw up.
“You must be Hope,” the muscle-man said. “Is everything okay?” I didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. Muscle-man, whose name may be Jim or Tim, I no longer cared, followed my gaze. “Do you know him?” he asked.
The man at the bar turned fully to face me and my heart sank. He lifted his glass and raised it as though in a toast before taking a sip. His eyes were dark, cold, and calculating. Any doubts I might have had fled me as he stared me down.
“I’m sorry,” I said to Muscle-man, not turning to look at him. “This was a mistake. I have to go.” Without another word, I backpedaled out the door, too afraid to take my eyes off the man at the bar. Mickey Dolmilo. The man who ten years ago, I saw murder Kate Ashley.
Even as the doorman asked me if everything was okay, I backed away from the building. Anxiety pumped through my veins as I glanced up and down the street. Despite the late hour, we were in one of the busiest parts of town, full of bars and restaurants. He wouldn’t try anything here, not with all these people around. Would he?
I was used to scanning my surroundings and watching my back, but after all this time, I’d held out a faint shred of hope that this day would never come. I never truly believed it would. Even as I’d testified against him and the Marshals warned me how dangerous he was — as if I needed telling — I still held onto the hope that things could go back to normal, that I could have a life. I swallowed down a lump forming in my throat and wondered how he could have found me.
The valet asked me for my ticket, but I shook my head. That’s what Dolmilo wanted, for me to get in my car, to run, and be alone. I had to do something. So far, he hadn’t moved, but through the glass door, I noted muscle-man kept looking at him as though he wanted to challenge him.
Damn it! Typical of my luck that Danielle finally found someone I might have hit it off with. Though maybe it was his good fortune that we hadn’t met sooner, and he’d become more embroiled in my dangerous life.
After a moment of indecision, I slowly removed my heels and bolted down the street with them in my hands. Maybe in the crowds, I’d be able to duck into another bar or restaurant without being seen.
A million thoughts ran through my head, I could approach security at one of the bars, although that might mean risking their life too. I should call the police, but a nagging voice inside told me that was a mistake. The best they could do is call the Marshals and have me moved somewhere new. But the thought that the Marshals were the only people who knew where to find me and had to have told Dolmilo
flashed foremost in my mind.
A man stepped out of an alleyway in front of me. I skidded to a halt to avoid hitting him, but wasn’t fast enough to prevent him from reaching out and grabbing my wrist.
“Hey, slow down,” he said.
I reacted without thinking and did the easiest thing I knew how. Gripping my shoes tight, I kept my elbow low, found a strong, squatting stance, and bent my elbow towards him until he had no choice but to let go of my wrist. By now, a few guys across the street had noticed what was happening and were making their way towards us. I could tell from the look on the face of the man I ran into that he debated grabbing me again, but obviously decided against it.
I didn’t waste the opportunity I’d been given and ran.
“I’m fine,” I called behind me, hoping that the men would disperse, and nobody would get into trouble.
I ducked into a bar that I knew had three other entrances, left through one of them, and weaved my way through four more before finding a corner in a noisy club where I could barely think. I choked back sobs, ran my fingers over my head, and held my breath, wondering if my heart would explode and what the hell I was going to do. I waited for almost an hour, but decided I had to leave before the streets got too quiet and I’d be easy to spot.
A group of young women was sitting at a booth on the other side of the room. They had a pile of jackets next to them. Searching in my purse, I pulled a hair-tie out and quickly braided my hair and tied it back out of the way. Then I counted the cash I had. A little over four-hundred dollars. Having to constantly look over my shoulder also meant that I always carried a fair amount of cash. I pulled out five twenties and put the rest away before walking over to the girls.
“Hi,” I said, having to shout over the music. “I hate to ask this, but I wonder if any of you would be willing to part with a jacket? I have a hundred dollars I can pay you.”
“Girl. If you need my jacket, you do not need to pay for it.” The young woman closest to me delved into the pile and pulled out what I assumed must be her coat. It looked like it was worth way more than the hundred dollars I’d offered.
“No really, I couldn’t.”
“Do you think we haven’t noticed you sitting in the corner all alone? From the look on your face, you’re avoiding a bad ex or something. I’ve been there, trust me, and if the least I can do is give you my jacket, then that’s what I’m gonna do.”
She thrust the jacket at me, and I took it, not bothering to correct her assumption I was hiding from an ex.
“Thank you,” I said and slipped it on. “Is there any way I can return it to you?”
“If you get the chance just drop it over the bar. Tell them it’s for Trish. My brother’s the owner.”
“Thank you, Trish,” I said and gave her a warm smile before nodding and bidding goodbye to her and the girls she was with.
I pushed through the crowds but hesitated by the side of the door. My stomach roiled. I couldn’t see outside. I’d settled in this club purely because of the lack of windows and the ability to see inside, but that also meant I couldn’t see outside. The streets could already be quiet. I could open the door and walk straight into Dolmilo. I could walk outside and get a bullet to the head.
A hand landed on my shoulder and I jumped before turning ready to strike out. I stopped my fist a fraction of a second before it slammed into Trish’s face.
“I’m so sorry,” I said.
“Girl, you are jumpier than a frog on a pogo stick.” She pointed towards the back of the room, beyond the dance floor. “My car is parked right outside the rear exit. I’ll take you wherever you need to go.”
“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It wouldn’t be safe for you with me.”
“You didn’t ask. I offered. I can go out, make sure no-one’s around, get the car started and the door open ready for you to dive in. You can come out in a crowd with a few friends of mine. As soon as you’re in the car, you can duck down so as not to be seen.”
I debated her offer, wanting for all the world to say no. She’d already done too much for me, but what other choice did I have.
“We won’t proceed if you see anyone watching,” I said when Trish echoed my own thoughts.
“We can wait in this club all night if necessary. We’ll get you out and somewhere safe without anyone seeing.”
Somewhere safe. That would be nice. I just wished I knew exactly where that was.
Chapter Two
Bono
Midnight Anchor was full of a contingency of brothers tonight. Not unusual for a bar owned by Forever Midnight MC, but what was unusual was the lack of any other patrons and the presence of dolly girls. Cherrie and Greg ran the place, and they had strict rules about allowing the women who allowed brothers to fuck them for entertainment as though they were blow-up dolls through the door. Those women were normally reserved for the clubhouse. But tonight was a special occasion and they understood that some of the brothers liked to celebrate in different ways to others. Dolly girls were groupies for bikers, and like any club, Forever Midnight had a gang of them who liked to hang around at the clubhouse and see who was willing to accommodate their needs. They were all too happy to spread their legs and allow a brother to pin them down and fuck them, no matter who was watching.
That fact had always disturbed me. It was as though the women had no self-respect. That didn’t mean I hadn’t partaken when the need arose. I wasn’t a monk. For years fucking or more alcohol than was good for me had been the only things that ensured me a good night’s sleep.
I’d question why my appetites had changed in the last year or so, and the idea of fucking a dolly girl had moved from a faint dislike to one of outright repulsion, but the answer was as easy to spot as the massive fucker grinning from ear to ear beside me.
“I can’t believe I’m a dad,” Cane said, shaking his head as he took a swig of his beer.
Caleb clapped him on the back. “You and me both.”
“How the fuck did this happen?”
Lucky laughed. “If no-one’s given you ‘the talk’ by now, I sure as fuck can’t help you.”
Everyone laughed, and Cane clipped Lucky over the head, but the stupid grin never left his face. He sighed, shook his head, and took another sip of beer.
I was happy for my brother. He was a good man and he deserved a good woman like Thea. The fact that they’d welcomed their first baby into the world this morning and had asked me to be godfather along with Cane’s blood-brother, Caleb made me happy beyond belief. But seeing what Cane had with Thea, and what Caleb had found with Amber had pushed my past front and center in my mind. Not a day went by when I didn’t think of Hope and the life denied us, but, I guess, it was just fucking easier to live with when those closest to me were also alone.
Fuck! How fucking selfish did that sound?
I finished my beer and slammed the bottle down on the bar. “A round of tequila,” I called to Greg. He grabbed seven shot glasses and poured us each a drink, before setting the bottle on the counter next to them and lifting one of the glasses and raising it in the air.
“To Cane, Thea, and their beautiful baby girl,” he said before swigging back the fiery liquid.
We each joined him in the toast, while Cane raised his glass just to Thea and the baby. “A girl,” he said. “What the fuck do I know about being the father of a little girl?”
Caleb laughed again and shook his head. “Don’t ask me. I’m just getting used to it myself.”
The others returned to their beers while I grabbed the bottle of tequila under the watchful eye of Greg. We had an understanding. He was to stop me whenever I looked on the verge of drinking too much, but I wasn’t in the mood to let him stop me tonight. Maybe, he sensed that, as he huffed out a breath and turned his attention to serving someone else.
I took a swig from the bottle and noticed a curvy red head watching me from beneath her eyelashes. Rosie. There was a time or two I would have rushed her upstairs and had her on her knees in
front of me. Those days had passed, even if she had been trying to rekindle them of late.
She patted the stool next to her, but I shook my head. She pouted and turned her attention to another brother across the room. One dick’s as good as another.
I took another swig from the bottle, feeling bad that my mood wasn’t a match for the celebration at hand.
Cane nudged me with his elbow. “You alright?” he asked. I nodded. “I noticed Rosie calling you over. You can leave if you need a fuck.”
“Rosie’s not what I need,” I said.
Cane nodded at my bottle. “And that is.”
I lifted it and looked at the swirling golden contents. “No,” I said, huffing out a breath. “This isn’t what I need either.” I put the bottle back on the bar and rubbed my hand over my face. “I’m fucking sorry,” I said. “I am so fucking happy for you. I really am. I just...”
“I know, Bono. I know.” Cane put his arm around me. He was the only brother who really did know. The only one I’d told about Hope and how I’d lost her. The only one who knew of the many more people I’d lost after that in Afghanistan.
“All right,” Caleb said, clapping his hands together. “The night is fucking young. And it’ll be the last one Cane sees in a while. Who wants to take our group to the back room and get wasted in peace?”
“I sure as hell do,” I said and asked Greg for another round of beers to carry through with us.
I shook all thoughts from my head and vowed to have a good time. This evening was about Cane and his new family, not me.
The beers came fast and frequent, but it was mostly the others who drank them. Rex and Lucky cracked jokes for a while, but soon returned to the main bar to mingle and find women. Only Cane, Caleb, Jameson, and I remained in the back room when my mobile vibrated in my pocket.
I pulled it out and stared at the screen. The number wasn’t one I recognized, and the display recorded it as being registered in Arizona.
“Hello,” I said, answering the call. A gasping sob greeted me. “Who is this?” I asked.
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