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Trust

Page 12

by Riley Edwards


  Which meant he drove me to work every morning. That was a good part. I got to spend my mornings getting ready for work with Mac doing the same.

  Normal.

  The bad part to that was Mac had to get up two hours earlier than he normally would to drive me into work. He said he didn’t mind. He enjoyed sitting at the counter eating his breakfast and catching up on the news before he had to get to the station.

  However, that still wasn’t the really bad part. Because Mac was across town at the precinct or out doing detective things, namely catching bad guys, he didn’t have time to pick me up in the middle of the afternoon. Which meant I had to bum rides from Suzie or Ava. Both told me they didn’t mind. Ava and I normally stopped to pick up lunch before she dropped me off at home and she had to rush home to get the kids off the school bus. But I felt like a mooch having to ask for a ride every day.

  Today I had made a decision.

  I spent some time thinking about what Suzie had said about taking my life back. Mac had pretty much said the same thing. But it hit me square in the stomach hearing Suzie talk about how quickly life can change. One moment she and Michael were making plans to take a vacation to New York. Somewhere neither had ever been and always wanted to see. And the next Suzie was near dead and they had more hospital bills than they could afford. The trip, which was the last thing on their minds, had been put off indefinitely. With all the money they owed, they’d almost lost the café, too. With some creative financing on Reid’s part—which meant he was a kick-ass guy and loaned them the money personally—they were able to keep the café. Yes, Suzie understood, and she was right.

  So, after much consideration and thought, I was going to talk to Mac tonight. Dinner was almost ready and Mac was on his way home. I was pacing the front room trying to get my racing thoughts in orders when I heard the garage door start to roll up on its metal track; excitement and nervousness bubbled in my belly. Mac was home.

  The door to the kitchen opened, Mac walked in and scanned the pots on the stove, the huge salad bowl full of leafy greens sitting on the island, and his gaze went in search of me. His eyes hit mine, and a smile graced his lips. My legs went shaky and my heart stopped. I loved that smile. More to the point, I loved when he directed his smile toward me. It was so full of hope and promise it was almost overwhelming. That smile was mine. And if I were smart, which I was, I’d never let it go.

  “How do you feel about a mini-vacation up to Oregon? I want to learn how to whitewater raft,” I blurted out.

  Probably not the smoothest way to start the conversation judging by the confusion on his face.

  “Okay,” he said slowly. “We can probably make that happen this summer.”

  “Awesome.”

  Mac kept his eyes on me as he moved to the dining room table, draping his sport coat over the back of the chair. He still hadn’t broken contact when he pulled his holster off and placed it on the table.

  “Come here, baby.”

  I didn’t make him ask twice and walked into his outstretched arms. He folded me into a hug and kissed the top of my head. He did this often, kissed my head when I fit into his embrace. I loved that Mac was so much taller than me. When he wrapped me up, I was protected, surrounded by him.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  “Well. There are a few things I want to talk to you about.”

  His body stiffened and his arms flexed.

  “Everything okay? Did something happen?”

  “No,” I rushed out. He still hadn’t relaxed, so I went on to reassure him. “Everything is perfect.”

  “Dinner ready?”

  “Almost.”

  He pulled back just enough to see my face. “Good. Let’s go sit down so we can talk.”

  Mac broke the hug but didn’t let go of my hand as he led us to the sofa. When he sat down, he pulled me down next to him, resting our entwined hands on his thigh.

  “What’s going on, Harper?”

  I was slowly getting used to everyone calling me by my real name again. I found I liked it a whole bunch when Mac said it. Him using my real name had started to settle some of the guilt I had felt about deceiving him. I didn’t have to lie anymore.

  Normal.

  “I think I want to go back to my natural hair color. I started bleaching it to conceal my identity. I want to start being me again.”

  I waited for him to laugh at me or tell me I was being silly.

  He didn’t. Instead, his features relaxed and his hand squeezed mine.

  “I think that is a great idea.”

  “But it’s dark brown. I’m not really a blonde.”

  Mac let out a bark of laughter.

  “Yeah, baby, I gathered that. I’ve seen you in between the times you touched up your roots. If you want to go back to brown, do it. If you wanna color your hair purple, it doesn’t matter to me. Whatever makes you happy.”

  “Really?”

  “Why would you think I’d care what color your hair is?” Mac tapped my bottom lip, stopping me from biting it. “What’s really going on?”

  “I want to remember how to be me.” I tried to explain. Mac remained quiet and allowed me to gather my thoughts. “My name is Harper Russo. I have brown hair. I’m a ballerina. I’ve wanted to dance since I was six. I like to read romance novels and get lost in them. I like riding bikes. I like being outdoors, out of the city and exploring nature. I like to sing bad 90’s music. My favorite movie is Good Will Hunting. My favorite actor is Tom Selleck. My favorite color is robin’s egg blue, but sometimes it’s red. I like Mexican food, but my favorite is sushi.” I paused for a moment, trying to remember why I had just told him all of that. “I want to be me again. You’ve given me the most precious gift anyone could give—my life back. I don’t want to waste it. I don’t want to be afraid to live. I want to be selfish and take everything.”

  “That’s not selfish, baby. That’s beautiful.”

  “Oh, and I want to buy a car. I’ve never owned one. I mean, my dad gave me one to drive when I was sixteen, but I’ve never purchased one on my own. I want that, too.”

  “So you’ll have it. We’ll go look at cars and you’ll buy one.”

  “Just like that?”

  “You said you wanted one, didn’t you?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “Baby, it fucking kills me that you even question something as simple as buying a car. You don’t need to hide who you are to anyone. You can walk into a car dealership and buy a car. You can go into a bank and open an account. You want credit cards, get them. No more lurking in the shadows. It’s time for you to start living in the sunshine again.”

  “The sunshine,” I repeated.

  “Yeah, baby. You want to go whitewater rafting, book the trip and tell me the dates. I’ll get the time off work. If you want to bike ride, and dance, and read, and sing in the rain, I’m there. I am with you every step of the way. I cannot wait to watch you explore and discover more of who you are again. It is a goddamn miracle to witness.”

  How had I gotten so lucky to have found Mac?

  “I love you,” I whispered, now looking at our clasped hands. His was so much bigger than mine; I could barely see my knuckles. Another example of how Mac enveloped me, guarded me, and sheltered me from harm.

  I’d never take it for granted.

  “I love you, too.”

  “I want to change my last name. But no more fake documents. I’ll change it the legal way with the courts. I want to be Harper. However, I am not a Russo.”

  “I’m sure we can find a way to change your last name.” Mac brought our hands up to his lips, kissing my fingers. “Do you need to take dinner out of the oven? It’s gonna be a while until we eat.”

  Oh, yay! I knew what that meant.

  “I’ll turn off the oven.”

  I jumped up and did just that, listening to Mac chuckle as I rushed to pull the enchiladas out and set them on the cooktop. I tried my hardest to act cool when I walked back into the livin
g room but failed miserably when I saw that Mac had undone the top buttons of his dress shirt and his erection was clearly outlined under his slacks.

  I started to lower my gaze when Mac stood and started to stalk toward me.

  “No, baby. Not this time. I want you to look at me. Tonight, it’s Aiden and Harper. Just us. No titles, no rules, no add-ons. Us. You and me learning all about what Harper wants and needs.”

  Holy shit, I think I just fell a little more in love with him.

  “You already give me what I need and I know what I want—you.”

  “Well, let’s see if I can do better. There’s always room for a little improvement.” He smiled.

  “I don’t know, Mac. You improve any more, I might die.”

  “We don’t want that. I’ll aim for a near-death experience.”

  Mac did indeed bring me to the brink of death, or at least that’s what I thought I was experiencing when by the fourth orgasm, I had heard angels singing and a bright beautiful light beckoning me. It turned out I’d been wrong; it wasn’t death and angels singing. It was the beauty of Mac’s touch, the groans of pleasure, and the flash of ecstasy that burned my eyes.

  “We’ll find you a car tomorrow,” Mac told me as he tucked me into his side. His voice was thick with sleep and he yawned.

  “Okay.”

  “Night, baby.”

  “Night, Aiden.”

  Normal.

  19

  off reservation

  Mac

  “Detective Mackenzie?” I heard called from behind me.

  I slowly turned, making sure to pull my coat back enough that I had clear access to my weapon if needed. When I had fully turned in the direction of the voice, I recognized him immediately.

  “I heard you’ve been looking for me,” he said.

  Callisto Suppato.

  He was correct. I’d put it out on the street that I needed a word. It was a hell of a lot easier than trying to track down a mafia enforcer. Especially one that wasn’t local. His father was a Capo back in New Orleans. I had done my research on his family and knew Callisto’s role in the organization. Clean-up and damage control. I also knew it would take me a while to find him if he didn’t want to be found.

  “Mr. Suppato…”

  Callisto spoke over me. “My friends call me Cal.”

  “Friends? Is that what we are?” I asked.

  Cal chuckled. “Point made. What can I do for you?”

  “I need information.”

  I cut right to it, no point in bullshitting and dragging this out. Cal cut his eyes at me and looked around the parking lot.

  “You serious with this shit? I wasted my time coming down here to have some pi—”

  “I’d be careful with your next words. I’m not real fond of criminals trying to talk shit to me. I did some digging and I know the DA had a chat with you.”

  “And is that against some law I’m unaware of?” He smirked.

  Jesus Christ, here we go with another smartass trying to make things more difficult than they had to be.

  “It is if he’s trying to shake you down.”

  “And why would the DA want to shake me down?”

  Yep, we were doing this.

  “Suppato, you have to know that your reputation and that of your father’s has made its way to San Fran. You’re not exactly flying under the radar. I also know about your troubles and what has brought you to the sunny state of California. I give zero fucks about it. What I care about is; I have a man sitting in lockup about to go down for a bogus attempted murder charge and a woman missing. Both seem to center around two people. One of them is playing a dangerous game. I’d hate to see your woman Makenna get caught up, too.”

  Callisto went from relaxed to on the razor’s edge of sanity at the mention of his woman’s name.

  “She has nothing to do with this,” Cal seethed.

  “Telling you like it is. I’m sure the police chief thought his daughter was untouchable, too. That’s until someone snatched her right in front of him.”

  I needed Callisto’s cooperation and I was hoping Makenna’s safety was the way to get it. After a few beats, Cal seemed to have made up his mind.

  “I don’t know anything about Nicole Brown other than what’s been making its rounds on the wire.”

  “That’s not what I need.” Cal stayed silent and glanced around. When he looked back at me, I continued, “I just need confirmation that Graham Cartwright approached and what he offered.”

  His eyes darkened and some of the anger returned. “Money for protection.”

  “Protection? Protection from whom?” I chuckled.

  Who the hell did a mafia enforcer need protection from? As far as I knew, Suppato didn’t have a beef with Nico or Blaze and those two were the biggest brokers in the city. There’d be no one else who would fuck with the son of a Capo. Not even the street gangs were stupid enough to go to war with a family.

  Cal didn’t find my statement funny and scowled. “Protection from his office. He said he was working new deals. That his office was no longer giving out freebies, or honoring deals with Brown, and if I wanted to continue to be able to do business uninterrupted in San Francisco, he’d be taking his cut.”

  “What’d you tell him?” I asked.

  “I told him to go fuck himself. I don’t need protection from anyone.”

  “Bet that pissed him off.”

  Graham Cartwright was not turning out to be a smart man. He was trying to flex on the major players in the San Francisco underbelly. That was not going to work out well for him.

  “It did. But as you said, I give zero fucks what pisses the man off. Don’t think I didn’t already know he hit up the Iron Claw Pres and Nico Tuscani. Both, I know, told him the same thing.”

  No, I hadn’t known that Cartwright had approached Tuscani. Blaze was never forthright but I had suspected there had been a conversation. Something had to have pissed Cartwright off enough to go off reservation and push the charges against Jason Riggers so hard. The DA was no longer trying to hide his cronies either. Instead, he’d left a dirty judge hanging in the wind by forcing him to have a bail hearing in chambers and have Riggers transferred out of central booking.

  “Watch your back, Suppato. He’s getting desperate and making mistakes.”

  “Anything else?” Cal asked, not acknowledging my warning.

  “Nope. Thanks for your time.”

  With a chin lift, he was gone.

  My cell vibrated in my pocket as I was walking into Reid’s office. I quickly dropped the subs I was carrying on Reid’s desk and pulled my phone out.

  “Hey, baby,” I answered.

  “I’m done with work; it was a slow day. I’m gonna run by the grocery store on the way home. Anything special you want for dinner?”

  I couldn’t help the smile I knew I had plastered on my face. Reid rolled his eyes and reached for his sandwich.

  “Nope. Whatever you make will be fine. I shouldn’t be late tonight.”

  “Okay. I’ll surprise you.”

  “Perfect. Drive careful. See you soon.”

  “Normal,” she whispered.

  “Normal?”

  I didn’t understand why her voice had gone from upbeat to barely above a whisper.

  “I feel like I’ve waited my whole life for this. For normal. A normal conversation. A normal day. A normal life. You gave it to me.”

  “Baby.” I felt like I’d been punched in the solar plex. All the air had been rushed from my lungs.

  “Thank you for that, Aiden.”

  “Nothing to thank me for, Harper.”

  “I love that you think that. See you soon.”

  “Later.”

  I disconnected and had forgotten that I had an audience. I thought that Reid would’ve given me shit about the conversation he’d overheard but he didn’t say a word. Instead, he looked contemplative as he unwrapped his lunch.

  I followed suit and pulled my sandwich out of the paper wrap
per and waited. I knew Reid had something on his mind.

  “I’m happy for you,” he started, and I glanced across the desk at him. “It’s about damn time.”

  “What’s that?”

  “For you to be happy.”

  I let his words settle in my chest and soak deep. He was right; it was time. But more than that, it was time for Harper. She’d given up two years of her life. And if she wanted normal, that’s what she was getting. Some might say normal was boring. I’d have to disagree. Normal can be a blessing, a beautiful and peaceful existence. Harper needed some peace in her life.

  “Yeah, it is,” I replied, sinking my teeth into the thick crusty Italian bread, ripping a huge piece off. Marlene’s Sub Shop’s homemade hoagie rolls were fucking genius.

  “Ava said Harper was really stoked about the new car.”

  I chewed my food and thought about the day we walked into the car dealership. Her eyes lit at the seemingly mundane task of looking at cars. Nothing extraordinary, yet watching Harper with childlike enthusiasm hit me straight in my chest. She had looked so carefree and happy when she spoke to the salesman. However, her face fell when she was asked about her two-year gap of credit and work history. She’d played it off like a professional. Which in a way, I guess she was. Her profession the last two years had been perfecting her con. Being able to successfully come up with a cover on a moment’s notice had been what kept her alive. In the end, I had to co-sign for her. Of course, Harper argued. She wanted her independence, and I wanted it for her. But there was nothing wrong accepting help when you need it.

  “You should’ve seen her, man. She sat in nearly every car on the lot. I put my foot down when she started asking questions about this little Mini, electric blue with a white racing stripe. No fucking way was she driving that tin can around the city.”

  “Bet that didn’t go over well.”

  It didn’t, not at all. I was lucky I still had both balls intact after I told her no and left no room for discussion. I didn’t care much about what she did, but I wouldn’t budge when it came to her safety.

 

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