On the Way Home (6 page)

He shot up from the bed, shouting incoherently. Then, “God.
God.
That feels… I don’t know. Ahhh, baby.”

It was only when I went deeper that he gripped the sheets, almost tearing them in his fervor. “Come now,” I whispered, so quietly he might not have heard me. But then he was coming, with a tortured cry and hot spurts of seed onto my tongue.

I swallowed him down, drinking the come and nuzzling his softening cock until he slumped back to the bed. He was breathing hard, but his eyes were closed. His limbs were sprawled as if I’d knocked him unconscious. And maybe I had.

He made a soft sound, almost a worrisome sound. I brushed my hand over his forehead. “Shh. Rest.”

Then I gently pulled his sweatpants up over his cock. I settled the blanket around his waist. And I tucked him into bed with a kiss to his forehead. The whole time, he barely moved to help me. His breathing evened out. His eyes opened once, focused on me, and then the lids slammed shut once again.

By the time I left his room, he was already asleep.

* * *

I wouldn’t be able to sleep anytime soon. My body was a jumble of nerves—arousal and guilt and fear forming a Molotov cocktail inside me. I headed to the kitchen for a small cup of tea. My hands trembled as I prepared it, the cup rattling against the dish until I set it on the table.

The house was fifty years old. Caro didn’t understand why I’d picked this one when I could have had a newer one for the same price. She didn’t see the value in original hardwood floors and a wide, plush lawn. The house had character, and that made it a home. A place where I could get comfortable and put down roots. I’d been waiting my whole life to put down roots.

But then, Caro was comparing it to whatever mansion Dmitri had kept her in. No doubt it had glass tables and expensive artwork and guards with machine guns. He liked to think he was highbrow.

I had actually been glad when he upgraded from head gangbanger to major crime boss. He’d hooked up with some other guys and started dealing bigger. International business opportunities, he’d said with a smirk. He had started to travel more and released his hold on me and Caro.

The only problem was, Caro wouldn’t let go of him. She wanted that lifestyle. As sleazy as he was, she wanted him. Sometimes that pissed me off. Those days I’d think about cutting her loose. But most of the time I remembered that neither of us had chosen to go with him. We had been thrown into hell together, and I was the only one who had escaped. She was my sister. I wouldn’t let her down.

My phone rang, startling me. Tea sloshed over the rim of the cup as I set it down with a thud. My gaze snapped to the dark staircase. Would he hear?

I grabbed the phone from the table and slipped out the back door. The ambient sounds were louder here—singing crickets and rustling leaves and the soothing hum of nighttime.

“Hello?” I whispered.

“Della, it’s me.”

Relief made me feel faint. “Caro! Oh God, I’ve been so worried about you. Are you okay? Where is he keeping you? Did you get away?”

“Oh Sis, you’re so dramatic. I’m fine. I’ve always been fine.”

I shook my head, feeling tears sting my eyes. “You haven’t been using?”

A pause. “I can handle myself.”

Some of my worry came out as anger. I preferred it that way. “And I suppose you can handle Dmitri too?”

“Of course.” She giggled in a flirty way that told me Dmitri was right beside her. “He’s a man, Della. You know as well as I do how to handle them.”

Yeah, I had believed I could handle men. Men like Dmitri. Dancing at his club until I could figure out something better, something safer. Except he hadn’t wanted to let me go. He hadn’t wanted to let Caro go either, and she hadn’t put up a fight. Even when he had contacted me with his horrible proposition, I’d thought I could handle him. Give him what he wanted so he’d leave my sister alone.

But this entire thing was getting out of hand.

“Put Dmitri on the phone,” I said.

“I thought you didn’t like him,” she said with a smirk in her voice. “You said you weren’t going to talk to him and neither should I.”

“And look how well that turned out,” I snapped. I forced myself to calm. It wasn’t Caro’s fault. She didn’t understand. I had to believe that, because the alternative, thinking that Caro really wanted a man as thoroughly disgusting as that, made me hate my sister. Dmitri was the scum of the earth. He was the dirt underneath my bare feet. “I have some business with him.”

Caro made a dismissive sound. “You with your job. Working crazy hours, and for what? Fifty K a year?”

Less, but I wasn’t about to tell her that. “Some of us have bills to pay.”

“And you wonder why I stick with Dmitri. No rent, no electricity or whatever the fuck. It’s just a good time, okay? So stop being a downer.” There was rustling, and her voice became muted. “She wants to talk to you.”

In the pause, I knew the phone had been passed to Dmitri. Even the energy over the airwaves felt different. Or maybe the difference was inside me—tension and fear. I hated being afraid of him.

“Hello, love,” he said in that oily way of his.

“Let my sister go,” I said without preamble.

He laughed. “She doesn’t want to leave. You heard her. I treat her very well.”

“All the crack she wants, right?”

“Of course not. That stuff is expensive. I don’t waste more than I have to on a dirty whore.”

“I hope she heard you,” I hissed.

“You know me better than that,” he said mildly, and he was right.

I knew exactly how careful he could be. He hadn’t started working with that international cartel by accident. His brutal reputation had preceded him. He was known widely for despicable acts against both the criminals he worked with and the innocent people around them. Acts like this one.

“Do you have the package?” he asked.

I rolled my eyes. “You mean the human being you asked me to sentence to death?”

“Caro was right, you are dramatic. You aren’t sentencing anyone to death. That’s my job.”

“What does that make me, the mailman? No, thank you.”

“Are you trying to defy me, sweetheart? We both know that doesn’t work out well. For you, for me. For your sister.”

“If you hurt a single hair on her head—”

“I won’t start with her hair. No, that wouldn’t do. Her fingers would be the best place. Those pretty nails she keeps painted because she thinks I’ll keep fucking her if she does. I’ll take a pair of pliers and tear each one out of the soft skin, one by one.”

“Stop.” I felt sick. The images were all too real in my mind. Other girls who’d disappeared for weeks. Their bodies were found later in a back alley or in the river. The police would come around with pictures of them from the morgue, their eyes dull and lifeless.

Do you know her? they would ask.

Sure, I saw her around. She danced here too. But we weren’t close. No, I don’t know who killed her. She didn’t have any enemies.

Lies. Dmitri was our common enemy. As soon as we stepped out of line, we’d end up like them. Everyone knew it. Even the police knew it, after a while, but they still couldn’t stop him. Powerless and small, I couldn’t stop him either—but I would keep my sister safe.

“Please, leave Caro alone. She hasn’t done anything to you. Let her go, and I’ll take her place. I’ll come and do…” I swallowed hard. “Whatever you want.”

There was a weighted pause. “What an offer, sweetheart. You’ve managed to surprise me. I can’t say it’s not tempting. Unfortunately, business is business, and I need that passenger. Please tell me you’re going to deliver him soon.”

“I couldn’t—” I scrambled to think of a believable excuse, something that would keep Dmitri from storming my house tonight but wouldn’t piss him off enough to hurt Caro. “He asked me out on a date, though. I’m seeing him tomorrow. I’ll get him then.”

“Where is he now?” Dmitri sounded cross.

Why did Dmitri want this guy so badly? “He went to stay with a buddy of his. From the military. And by the way, it really would have helped if you had told me about that.”

It felt like a sick joke, like getting some kind of guardian angel sent down to help me, my own person G. I. Joe. But helping me was the last thing he would do if he knew the truth about me. And no matter how strong or how fierce, no single man could go up against Dmitri’s resources and win.

“What does it matter? He is a man, yes? You know what to do with them.” His voice was mocking me, not only from Caro’s words earlier but also all the times he had seen me onstage. Back then he’d been the owner of a strip club that dealt in drugs, and then guns, out of the back rooms. Oh, and flesh. He’d pull any of the girls back there if a customer flashed the right amount of money. The first time it had happened to me, I’d fought the asshole customer. And lost.

Then I’d paid the price when Dmitri taught me a lesson afterward.

“You’re despicable,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Yes,” he said amicably. “Which is all the more reason for you to give me what I want. Someone is going to die tomorrow. I’d prefer it was your new boyfriend. But if he’s not here… if I’m very angry… there’s a young woman in my bed as we speak, just waiting for me to wrap my hands around her neck.”

“Don’t touch her!”

The hollow sound of his laughter sent chills down my spine. Then the line went dead. I stared at the screen of my phone until the backlight went off. A second later it dinged with an incoming text. There was an address from the same unlisted number as the call. Fabulous.

I had the package. I had the destination. So why couldn’t I make the delivery?

Because an innocent man will die. But I’d stopped believing in innocence a long time ago. I didn’t really care that he was innocent, that he fought for his country, that he probably helped little old ladies across the street like a goddamned Boy Scout. The truth was, I didn’t want him to die because I liked him. Really liked him. And that was the kind of mistake that could get me killed.

Chapter Six

Clint

I woke up to the smell of pancakes and bacon. My stomach grumbled and rolled, a little earthquake underneath my abs. I hadn’t eaten much on the flight from Germany. Before that it had been hospital food while they dug shrapnel out of my arm. And before that it had been knockoff MREs. Not even the regular nutrient-dense stuff the army had; this was cheap imitation they served security personnel at the warehouse where I’d been undercover.

In short, I was fucking ravenous.

But I made a pit stop in the bathroom and grabbed a hot shower, determined to feel human again. Besides, Della had invited me into her room—the least I could do was not look like a slob.

I found her in the kitchen, sunlight streaming through the propped-open window above the sink. Her blonde hair was pale gold, limned with light. She looked like a goddamned angel, and for the first time I wondered if I really did need to hook up with one of the military’s counselors. But if Della were some PTSD-induced delusion, I didn’t really want to know.

My training had taught me to move lightly, all two hundred and sixty pounds of me, so I shuffled on purpose so as not to scare her.

She turned to look at me, and her smile nearly stopped my heart.
Mercy.
My hand actually went to my chest and rubbed absently, trying to relieve the ache.

“Hey, soldier,” she said with that Southern twang that drove me crazy. “How’d you sleep?”

“Like a log. Thanks again for letting me stay the night.”

Something flickered in her expression. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you need.”

Damn, I wanted to stay for a long time. But there was a hesitation in her voice that told me she wasn’t comfortable with the idea.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m going to call up my buddy from the plane. Maybe crash on his couch.” Even though I felt bad for interrupting James’s reunion, I was running low on options. And though he might grumble, I knew he wouldn’t leave me hanging. We’d been through hell and back together.

“No! Please stay.” Her expression smoothed out. Her eyes filled with sensual light. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

I studied her. This girl was throwing off mixed signals like crazy. Her words and actions had been nothing but welcoming. And I sure as hell wanted her—more than her bed, I wanted her body. I wanted all of her. I just couldn’t ignore the shadows in her eyes. It was clear my presence here was making her uncomfortable, so I should leave. Today.

And hope she’d agree to meet me for a date after that.

“Look, Della. You’re a beautiful girl.” She looked alarmed, but I was done wondering where we stood. At least she’d know how I felt about her. “I know we just met, but I really like you. I want to keep seeing you after this.”