He sat down next to Simon and flung his arm over the man’s shoulders, pulling him in. Simon’s shoulders shook with the force of his grief and Antony held him through them, murmuring comforting words.
Eventually, Simon quieted down and sat back. “You’re a fucking asshole, Ramos,” he said, sniffling.
“I am. I’m also your fucking friend.”
“Yeah. Sorry about the punch,” said Simon.
“Nah. I asked for it. I’ll give you that.” Antony stood and held out his hand, “C’mon. It’s getting late.”
Simon took his hand and stood. He pulled Antony to him for a hug. “Seriously. I’m sorry for all of it.”
Antony pulled away from him and looked him in the eye. “I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry that we ended up in that situation. I’m sorry for our friends and everyone else. I’m sorry that we have to live through this now. But we are, and we have to, and I’m not going anywhere, you idiot. Now, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Audrey was sitting in her living room, papers scattered all around her. When she’d arrived at Huachuca, she had made an extra copy of Maxwell’s file to keep in the office. Something in her gut had told her shit was going to happen. She was right.
As far as she could see, there were no connections between the person who tried to run her over and her father. No clue to who ran her off the road.
She leaned back against the couch and stared at the piles of papers on the table and the floor. She had two options. One was to treat the two situations as separate things and keep quiet about her father. The second was to lay it all out there. Charlie knew everything, had for years. Randall also knew. So did the LT and now the Sergeant Major, though Audrey figured he had been briefed on some of it before she arrived. So really, she was only keeping this from Ramos and Simon. She breathed out heavily and let her head fall back. The secret-keeping was weighing on her. It was stupid, really. She wasn’t responsible for the actions of her father, and yet, she continued to carry his shit around like an albatross around her neck.
Simon deserved to know, deserved to hear it from her. If he found out from someone else, like Top, well. She shuddered as she imagined the look he’d give her, a combination of hurt and fury. She knew that kind of betrayal. It was time he knew.
She took a drink of her cider. Simon’s door had opened and slammed shut half an hour before. It had been mostly quiet, with a few indiscernible voices here and there. The walls weren’t thin, which was a pleasant surprise given the rumor mill of close quarter living in the Army.
There hadn’t been a repeat performance from the other night, though there had been plenty of touches, glances, and smiles. Waking up next to him had been wonderful. She couldn’t remember feeling comfortable enough with anyone to stay the whole night. Maybe ever.
Audrey scraped together all the papers and shuffled them back into a neat pile, which she shoved back in the folder. She tossed it on the desk and made sure she had her phone and key before she slipped out of the door. As she closed her door, Antony stepped out of Simon’s place.
He nodded. “Linser.”
“Ramos.”
“Heading out?” he asked, leaning against the door. “Off to see Inmate Brewer, by chance?”
Audrey was expecting a crack and refrained from rolling her eyes. Still trying to test her. Antony was incredibly smart, and tenacious when he was onto something, traits that served him well in CID, but she wasn’t one of his suspects. He looked like he had been rolling around on the ground and had dirt streaked across his arms and shirt. Bits of dried grass clung to his leg. The worst was the bruise that was blossoming on his left eye. It was going to be spectacular.
“Not today,” she said. “Next Wednesday morning.”
His eyebrows shot up, but he recovered quickly. “So, when do we get to find out who this mystery man of yours is?”
Audrey pursed her lips and squinted, looking closely at his eye. “Soon. So, what happened to your face, Ramos? Someone finally get tired of your mouth?”
To her surprise, he barked out a laugh. He jerked his head toward the door. “Carwell landed that one. I’ll let him tell you about it.” He turned and started down the path. “See ya, Linser. Can’t wait for our next chat.”
Audrey raised her hand to rap on Simon’s door, but it swung open before she touched it. The room was dark, lit by one standing lamp in the corner. The TV was on. From the sound, it was some crime procedural. Funny. Simon closed the door behind her and walked to the couch. He hadn’t made eye contact. She could tell, even in this light, that his eyes were red and puffy, like he’d been crying. What the hell had happened?
She sat down on the other end of the couch and curled her feet underneath her. “What happened with Ramos?”
He sat back and sighed as he rested his head on the back of the couch. His face tilted toward the ceiling, eyes closed. He folded his hands in his lap, and Audrey saw his knuckles were pretty badly scraped. She watched as his Adam’s apple worked up and down, as though he was choking back words.
“Who called you today?” he asked.
Of course Ramos would have said something, but why would that have caused a fight? If she had any doubts about telling Simon before, she didn’t after this.
“Inmate Brewer is my father,” she said.
Simon raised his head and turned toward her. His eyes were wide, brows halfway up his forehead.
Audrey sat back. “Got a beer or two? This is gonna take some alcohol,” she said.
Simon nodded and silently retrieved a couple bottles from the fridge, spinning the caps off of them before handing one to her. He sat, facing her, and remained quiet.
She took a long swallow of the beer, letting the chill work down her throat. “Inmate Brewer is my father,” she began. “He’s serving a life sentence for human trafficking.”
Simon whistled, long and low. “I take it the two of you aren’t close,” he said.
Audrey shook her head. “No. The last time we’d spoken before today was when I was eight years old. He’d just gotten home from deployment—Army officer. Quartermaster. My uncle had dropped me off earlier that morning.” She closed her eyes, remembering. “He’d been in Bosnia and got hooked up with some people. They started a black market ring, trading in young women,” she paused and took a long drink. “Some of them were girls, and the youngest, by the little the investigators could find out, were barely more than toddlers.”
Simon winced. “He wasn’t working on adoptions.”
Audrey took a deep breath. “He was selling them to the highest bidders. He didn’t care what happened, only about the cash.”
“How many?” Simon asked.
“No one’s sure. I doubt he even knows. Well over a hundred, though,” she said. “He destroyed most of his records, and they always did the transactions in bulk and routed through several banks.”
“Over a hundred women and girls,” Simon said, his eyes wide.
“At least. There could be many, many more.”
“How many did they recover?”
“Twelve. They only found the ones who were on the auction block at the time of his arrest. Some estimates put the numbers upwards of three hundred, but I don’t think anyone will ever know for sure.”
“Jesus. Where was your mother through all of this? I remember you said she died when you were young,” he grew quiet.
Audrey looked at him. In for a penny, she thought. “My mother died in childbirth,” she said. “I spent most of my childhood with relatives, and after Maxwell’s incarceration, I went to live with an uncle. Eventually, he sent me to military school.”
“I heard Ant say something about you seeing him?”
Audrey nodded. “I have to.”
“He’s locked up here?”
“Yes. Tucson.”
Simon exhaled slowly, almost whistling. “Your name?”
“Mother’s maiden name. I changed it on my 18th birthday. I would have before, bu
t since my father is still alive, it would have required his permission.” She grimaced. “He’d never have allowed that.”
Simon was quiet, processing. Audrey waited. She’d just dumped a pile of shit on his shoulders and figured she’d just follow his lead for a few minutes.
“Military academy?” he asked. “You a problem child or something?” He had a small smile when he said this.
She chuckled. “Nah. I was a pretty serious child. They never lied to me about what he’d done. Guess I had to go to the other extreme or something.”
She reached out and touched his arm, gently tracing the outline of one scar. “Afghanistan, yes?” she asked.
Simon nodded.
“And Ramos was there with you,” she said, moving her fingers toward another scar.
“Yes.” Simon’s eyes locked on Audrey’s face, intent.
“Is that what you were fighting about today?” she asked, pushing a little.
“In part,” Simon said. “It’s the part that got him decked, at least.”
“And the other part?”
“You.”
“Me.” Her fingers had moved back down his arm, lightly trailing around the sensitive part of his inner elbow.
“Mmmhmmm. He’s worried that you’re going to bail and leave me hanging,” he said.
Audrey looked into Simon’s eyes and saw the myriad of emotions swirling around, fear, hope, anger, lust. Her conversation with Charlie popped into her mind and hung there. Keep things on track. Keep things honest.
“Simon, I haven’t lied to you,” she began. His eyes went flat, and he stared to lean away from her. She put her hand on his arm to stop him. “If they let me go back out, I don’t know if I would turn it down. But, with all the bullshit that’s going on, I’m not going anywhere soon.” She drained her beer and set the bottle on the table. “I like you. I like being with you. I really liked the other night, and I’m pretty sure you did, too.”
Simon smiled at that.
“So, for now, can we just enjoy whatever this is?” she asked.
Simon leaned toward her, but she put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him back. She moved over and straddled him, pinning his shoulders to the back of the couch with her hands. As she brought her mouth down to his, he gripped her hips, pressing her closer to him.
She wasn’t aggressive, but she was demanding. As she sucked his lower lip in between her teeth, she tasted the salt of his skin from his run mixed with the hops from the beer. He smelled of dust and clean sweat.
He broke free. “I need a shower. I’m nasty.”
She scooted off of him, dragging her pelvis across his as she did so, smiling at his sharp gasp.
“Evil woman,” he said, his eyes growing dark with desire.
She stood and pulled off her top, dropping it onto the floor. “Let’s go shower,” she said, walking toward the bedroom. As she did, she unhooked her bra and dropped it outside of the bedroom door.
Simon didn’t need to be asked twice, and all but leaped off the couch, ripped his shirt over his head and dropped it over his shoulder. The rest of his clothes joined the trail along the floor to the bathroom.
The shower was big enough for one and a half people, so navigating the area was a challenge. Audrey made sure Simon was under the stream, and reached behind him to grab the soap, rubbing against him as she did. She ran the bar up and down his back and over his shoulders, digging her fingertips into his muscles, working out small knots. She felt him go lax and lean against the shower wall. His eyes were closed, though not all the way, and he was watching her through his lashes.
She made quick work of his torso and leaned to kiss him while she worked up a bit of lather in her hands. Simon had one hand lightly pressed against the base of her skull, holding her in place as he explored her mouth. She quickly set the soap down, and as she grasped the hard length of him in her hands, she sucked on the tip of his tongue. A low moan rumbled out of him as she cupped and stroked him.
Finally, she pushed him back and let the water run the soap off of his body. As the bubbles coursed away, she slid down him, and ran her tongue around the head of his cock while she soaped up his legs. His head thumped back against the wall of the shower, and when she looked up at him, desire flooded through her. The muscles on his neck were standing out, his jaw clenched, and if he could have gotten a finger hold on anything on the walls, she was certain he’d have ripped the whole thing down. She worked her lips and tongue over him, taking him deeper into her mouth, until she felt his thighs quake under her fingertips.
“You gotta quit,” he groaned out, grabbing her shoulders and pulling her away. “I’m not ready for that yet.”
She stood, and he pressed her against the shower wall, running his teeth down her neck as he reached behind her to turn the water off.
She scooted him out of the shower and they toweled each other off. While she rubbed his skin, she walked him backwards until his knees hit the side of the bed. He sat down and reached for her, but she shook her head and stepped back with a small, “Uh-uh, scoot up.”
Simon did as she asked, and stretched out as she climbed up on the bed, straddling his shins. Her hair was halfway out of her braid, and Simon caught the end, pulling the band free. Audrey sat up and worked the plait free. Her breasts swayed as she untwisted the locks, and she felt the hairs on Simon’s legs brush against her inner thighs, setting her nerves on fire. His pupils were so large that his eyes looked black as he stared hungrily at her.
Audrey felt a rush of power, and something more, something that reflected at her in the light in Simon’s eyes. A sudden surge of longing crashed through her and took her breath for a moment. She shoved it aside and shut down the thinking part of her brain.
Simon reached over into the nightstand drawer and pulled out a small foil packet. Audrey took it from him and set it aside as she took him in her hands and slowly stroked him up and down. His eyelids fluttered closed and his breathing sped up. She maintained a slow, steady, teasing pace, like she had in the shower.
“Fucking hell, woman. If you don’t stop—” he ground out.
She stopped and grinned cheekily while she ran her hands up and down his sides. When his breathing calmed, she opened the packet and smoothed the latex over him. She moved her body up then, settling in over his hips, and dragged the tip of her tongue up his chest to his neck. As she reached his ear, she whispered, “Can’t handle it, Carwell?”
Simon thrust his hips, and his cock slid against her, bumping up against her clit. She slid upward, along his chest, and he took advantage of the access and caught one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking deep.
Audrey moaned and bucked her hips, positioning him right where she wanted. She pushed herself up back to a sitting position, taking him inside of her with one smooth thrust. She exhaled heavily and her eyelids fluttered closed. “So good.”
Simon arched his back, pressing his head into the pillow, and groaned loud and low. He ran his hands up Audrey’s thighs and settled them lightly on her hips, watching her above him, his eyes glittering in the dim light.
She set a slow pace, rolling her hips against him in lazy circles. Her head was thrown back, and she moved one of her hands down to where they were joined, fingertips playing over her flesh. Her movements sped up and her fingers kept time with the motion of her hips.
Simon dug his fingertips into her flesh and using the movement as leverage to thrust against her as she ground against him. “Let go, Aud,” he whispered. “Take me with you.”
Audrey’s muscles twitched, and her movements became erratic. Suddenly, she froze, her walls fluttering and clenching around Simon, her face twisted in pleasure. Her hair had come fully loose and was draped down her back, tickling his thighs and shimmering in the low light with the trembling of her body. She was beautiful and terrifying all at once, and as she came apart above him, Simon followed her over the edge.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Simon pushed open Audrey’s door to find pla
nts everywhere. “Aud?”
Her head popped up from behind the counter in the kitchen area. “Hey! You get the watering can?”
He raised one hand, showing her a bright green plastic can with a cheerful flower spout. “How long is Charlie going to be gone?”
“Just a week. These are her special plants.” She watched as Simon’s eyes drifted from one side of the room to the other, stopping on all the flat surfaces. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. Finally, he looked back at her.
“How many are still in her room?”
“Not many. Just the succulents, I think.”
Simon set the watering can on the counter and lifted the bag he had in his other hand. “Stopped by Tanuki’s on the way.”
“Yeah, I didn’t expect you to come over today. Not that I’m complaining.” Audrey turned the faucet off and wiped her hands on a towel.
“Me either, but I finished everything up early, so I figured I’d come back.” He looked around the room again. “So, unless we are gonna eat this in bed,” he paused, wiggling his eyebrows at her. “We should probably go over to my place. Sushi in bed just doesn’t do it for me.”
“What about dessert?” Audrey smacked his ass as she walked by him toward the door.
“Dessert in bed? I’m game.”
***
The next morning, Audrey scraped the last few bites of her eggs off in the trash and rinsed the dish in the sink. Eating was a good idea, but her stomach disagreed. Acid bubbled up into her throat and she coughed. She turned and fished the box of baking soda out of the cabinet, and sprinkled a little into a glass of water, stirring before she chugged it down.
As she brushed her teeth, she remembered the last time she saw Maxwell. The memories were hazy, but she remembered how cold he was. He’d looked at her like she was a stranger. He didn’t speak to her most of that day, and right after she’d put on her pajamas, the military police came and arrested him. She rinsed her toothbrush and spat. He didn’t even look back at her as they hauled him out.
Until she heard his voice, she’d been in a constant state of denial. She’d purposely not thought about how much time she spent living with him influencing her decisions, even though he was a stranger to her. Now, she resented carrying his guilt around, guilt that he’d refused to acknowledge. That was the biggest thing her own therapists hadn’t been able to help her with—the guilt and her need to keep him a secret.
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