September: Calendar Girl Book 9 (9 page)

“And does she do it?”

His expression morphed into one of disgust. “Hell, no. She’d never do that.”

I knew that answer before I asked, but I wanted to know his response. Point for Matt. “Go ahead.”

“It’s just they won’t let up. They’re successful, all from rich families. They could give her anything she wants, and they play sports. Maddy loves sports. I just watch ’em for her.”

That made me piggy snort. “You watch sports for my sister?” I couldn’t help but tip my head back and laugh hard. Man, it felt good, too. Of course, Maddy would cling onto the one man that didn’t love sports. Just goes to show how much opposites attract.

Matt chuckled. “Well, yeah. She loves it. Says it’s what you and Pops do together as a family, and since I want to be a part of her family, I watch it too.”

Sweet. Too fucking sweet. My sister had really scored with this guy. “I’m not understanding the problem. Are you jealous of these jocks?”

His shoulders slumped again. “I don’t know, maybe. I’m a plant guy. I’ll be working for companies that deal in farming, botany, and the like. They’re going to go pro, run family businesses, and be able to give her a life I can’t. I’m just a geek with a green thumb. And Maddy, God, she’s so beautiful. Kind. Loving. Crazy smart. She could have anyone with the snap of her fingers.”

Aw, I got it now. He was insecure. “That she could. My girl is beyond gorgeous. But you know what, Matt?”

His eyes were sad when he looked up at me. “What?”

“Maddy loves
you
. Maddy wants to marry
you
. She gave you something very special, and you’re the only man she’s ever wanted to have it. Get what I mean?”

He grinned, and his cheeks pinked up. Too fucking cute. Talk about sex and he blushes. Yeah, he was damn near perfect for my girl.

“I think so. I just thought if I could get her to be my wife, then I wouldn’t, you know…”

“Lose her?”

He nodded, and I clapped him on the shoulder. “All I can tell you, Matt, is have faith. Have faith in your love, and have faith in Maddy. She’d never do you wrong. It’s not who she is.”

Matt patted my hand. “You’re right. We talked about it. I admitted most of it to her. She thought I was crazy, said I was the hottest guy she’d ever known, and then she jumped on me and proved to me how much she loved me.”

And then he lost that one point. “Gross. Did you just seriously tell
me
, your fiancée’s
sister
, how you had awesome make up sex? Blech. Sick!”

He laughed. “Too soon?”

“Way too fucking soon. Ew wee, now I need to have my ears professionally cleaned. You’re one twisted dude! First plant talk, and then sex talk? God. I don’t know how Maddy puts up with it.” I grinned and looked at him through one eye.

Together, we spent the next hour bonding, laughing and talking about the funny things that he and my sister did to pass the days, minus the sex talks. I asked him how he felt about moving to Texas if Maddy wanted to work at Cunningham Oil & Gas. He said he would defer to her. Go where she wanted to go. Matt understood that, until Max, Maddy hadn’t had a family besides me, and he wanted her to be happy. Plus, he liked Max and liked the area where Max lived. Apparently, he and Maddy talked about maybe looking at buying some land out in Texas and he’d farm the land. Maybe open up his own small business with the local produce, or something like that. All good ideas and solid for the future. He agreed that the wedding would definitely happen after they both graduated.

Knowing that Matt and I had our talk and worked out some of the slight irritation I’d had on hearing that he was pressuring Maddy made one more weight on my shoulders disappear. Last remaining problem, besides getting access to my man, was a doozie. Blaine douchebag Pintero.

F
riday had arrived
, and I was no closer to finding out how the hell I was going to pacify Blaine with no money and no desire to get between the sheets with him. Pops was on the mend. Maddy and Matt were solid and back on their life plan. Max was still in town, and Ginelle was safe. For now. I, on the other hand? That was a totally different story. I was a fucking mess. It had been a few days and no call from Wes and no additional information from Warren, even though I’d called him three times a day since he told me Wes was alive. He had taken to ignoring my calls. Once Kathleen picked up and told me he was working on it and wouldn’t stop until he got some facts about Wes’s whereabouts. For now, though, he couldn’t listen to my broken voice and get anything accomplished. I understood that. If it were me, I wouldn’t be able to get anything done with a psycho, emotional wreck calling every five minutes for an update.

This must be what hell feels like
. Knowing the man I love, the person I’d give my life for was hurting mentally and physically and I wasn’t there to touch him, lend a hand, or support his healing process. It sucked…royally.

My neck had a permanent cramp from looking down at my phone incessantly, waiting, hoping for a call from an unknown number. Every time the damn thing rang, it jolted my system into action, all synapses firing, my heart beating wildly only to find it was Max, or Maddy, or Gin. Ugh.

Last night, I’d finally broken down and made some calls to my friends. Hector cried while I told him what had happened to Wes. Tony got angry and asked if I needed money, plane tickets, anything that could help. Such a fixer. I assured them I was handling it and that I had faith he’d be home soon. Pretty much a fat lie. I got strict instructions to check in next week with both men or they’d hunt me down. I had no doubt they’d fulfill that threat. Mason was not nearly as kind. He was pissed. Ready to skip out on the last handful of games in the season even though the Red Sox were killing it and he was their star pitcher. I remembered our call last night.

“Mia, this is bullshit. You wait until things are so fucked up to call?” Mason’s voice got more distant, as if he’d moved his mouth from the receiver. “No, Rach, I won’t be calm. This is not cool. We’re her family.”

Hearing him say I was family hit hard. I had no right to keep all this drama to myself. I had people who cared, even loved me the same way I loved them. It was time I started counting on them more, if not physically, at least emotionally.

He came back on the line. “I can’t believe you found out you have a brother. That’s crazy.”

“Yeah, but he’s really great, and check this out. I now am the owner of twenty-five percent of Cunningham Oil & Gas.”

“What the fuck? You shitting me?”

“Nope. Apparently, Jackson Cunningham knew about me all along and wanted me to have a piece of his legacy as Max’s sister. What he didn’t know about was Maddy, who as it turns out, is a full-blooded member of the Cunningham clan. Mom pawned off Maddy as my father’s.”

“Jesus. Your mom was wacked.”

I thought about Mason and his mom, lost to breast cancer when he was younger. His mother would have given anything to have one more day with her children, and my mother walked away from not one, not two, but three children who needed her. That’s the kind of life-changing event that is impossible to forgive. Made me wonder if Max had a chance to set his investigator to work on finding where our dear mother ended up. If he did find Meryl Colgrove, would I even know what to say to her? You suck? Throw it in her face how great we are. Well, Max and Maddy are doing great. Me? I’m an escort paying off the debt of the man she left.

When Mace and I ended the call, I promised to be more present in their lives, visit next year, introduce them to Wes. Next was Anton and Heather. Of course, Anton took the philosophical approach to everything, asking how it affected the big picture, how I felt about it. I swear Anton, the Latin Lov-ah, was a hippie underneath all those gold chains. Heather, on the other hand, offered a bunch of “no ways” and “holy shits.” Mostly she was worried about me and how I was taking Wes’s disappearance. I didn’t have a lot to say because if I did, I’d melt into a puddle of tears. If nothing else, I owed it to Wes to stay strong and keep fighting, and that’s what I planned to do.

Alec, of course, was Alec. Everything about his voice, his genuine love, made me feel better. He had a way with words, and he told me that he was confident in my abilities to survive another day. On the other hand, if I wanted to, he’d happily whisk me off to France where he’d ravish my body and fill my soul with light. His words, not mine. Though they were said in such eloquent French my entire body broke out in a series of tingles. I had to stop that sexy train with a sweet warning, which my Frenchie understood. Love was love to him, but he accepted the forever kind and would respect my wishes. Hence, it meant no future hanky panky with filthy-talking French artists. I had to say that part in English and repeat it in French to get the point across.

I waited to call Tai until the very last. As expected, he did not take the news well. So much so that I didn’t even tell him all of it, because had I told him about Blaine, his threats, and the kidnapping, he would have been on the next plane with a half dozen giant Samoan men out for blood. Blaine’s blood. Sure, it would make everything easier for me, but those men would get hurt. Men like Blaine were too pompous to fight with their hands as proven by the experience Max had in the hallway. Blaine didn’t even attempt to hit Max. No, Blaine would use goons, knives, and most certainly, guns. Blaine wouldn’t stop until the entire Niko clan was dead and buried six feet under in a long lost section of the Nevada desert never to be heard from again. That was not going to happen to my sexy Samoan. No way, no how.

What I told Tai was about Pops and Max. That was enough to set his worry meter to a ten out of ten. We talked long into the night. I briefly wondered what Amy thought about our long chat, but in the middle of it, she kissed him goodnight and told him she’d see him back in bed. There was no concern, malice, or anxiety in her tone whatsoever. When I asked Tai about it, he said simply, “Amy’s cool. She understands that you’re family.”

And there it was again. That word. Family. When I started this journey nine months ago, that word consisted of four people total. Maddy, Ginelle, Pops, and my Aunt Millie. Now I couldn’t count on two hands how many people I now considered part of my extended family, not to mention the new real living blood relation in Max, Cyndi, and Isabel as well as baby Jack on the way. Those were four new instant extended relatives. It was hard to comprehend how much life had changed over the past nine months. More so than I would have ever imagined possible in my twenty-five-years.

And then there was Wes. I looked down at my phone one more time. Nothing. Scowling, I got dressed, actually making an effort. If I was going to beg, borrow, and plead with Blaine to give me more time, I wanted to at least look the part.

My phone pinged, and I hurried to check the display, praying it was Weston. What I saw forced an enormous scowl that I felt down to my toes. The life force of my being was being drained, and it pooled around my feet.

T
o
: Mia Saunders

From: Blaine Douchebag Pintero

I expect you’re doing well and either have my money or are prepared to agree to the terms. Meet at our place in an hour. I’ll be waiting.

O
f course he would
, the twisted fucker. As I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder, Max grabbed a set of keys and looked at me.

“What?” I asked.

Max’s lips were held in a thin line. Their normal puffy pink was devoid of color. His body language was rigid and confusing. “I’m driving you.”

I cringed. “Um, no. I’ll be fine. He’s not going to hurt me, Max. He wants to fuck me, not kill me.”

Max’s jaw locked down and a muscle there flickered. “He kidnapped your best friend, Mia. This is not a situation to take lightly.”

Sighing, I put a hand to his bicep. It hardened reflexively. “Max, he won’t like your presence there. I know what, more specifically
who,
I’m dealing with. I’m worth too much to him monetarily and physically to do something rash. I’ll be fine.” I looked straight into his eyes and lied my ass off. Blaine was a wild card. I never knew what would tip him off, make him laugh, or when he’d turn downright evil incarnate. I’d hope for the humorous side and planned to work that angle along with his desire to bed me for more time. Maybe use his love of money and promise him more. A lot more. I could easily keep working for Millie, making the money I needed to as well as whatever I’d get from Cunningham Oil & Gas. I know Max didn’t want that money bankrolling a criminal, but I had no choice if I wanted to live any semblance of a normal life.

“Trust me. I’ve got this,” I said, shifting my shoulders back and straightening my spine.

Max shook his head and opened the door. “Trust me.” He pointed to his chest. “I’ve got this. I told you before and I’ll tell you again, darlin’. I take care of my family. End of discussion.”

My shoulders sagged as I followed him to the elevator and into his rental car. Nothing was said on the drive to Luna Rosa. I had no idea what to tell him, and I think he had choice words that I’d rather not hear.

We entered the restaurant, and as usual, Blaine sat out on the patio at our table. Umbrellas had been put up to provide shade. The water from the lake kept the temperature on the patio feeling a solid ten degrees cooler than the normal Vegas heat. As we walked up, Blaine stood. He wore a crisp beige suit that fit him to perfection. A coral dress shirt unbuttoned at the neck highlighted his coloring and made his eyes glow. They reminded me of a cat’s eyes in the dark, how they seemed to glimmer with a yellow-green radiance.

Blaine held out a hand to Max and nodded to the table next to us. “I see you’ve brought your own muscle, as have I.” He grinned.

His goons pushed back their blazer jackets. The barrels of black .45s could be easily seen.

Max pulled out my chair and I sat, and then he proceeded to shift his chair back, making sure he was able to see Blaine and his two guards with ease. Smart move. I wished I’d thought of it. For a minute, I was actually thankful that Max had pushed his way into coming, even though I really wanted him out of this mess.

“Would you like a drink?” Blaine held up a frosty-looking pinot grigio. My mouth went dry, and I nodded. He poured me a glass and kept it aloft until Max glanced at it and shook his head. He was far too busy being an imposing character to be bothered with wine.

I took a sip of the wine and hummed. Blaine always had exceptional taste in wine. It was something he spent a lot of time doing—tastings, traveling to wineries to check on the newest selections and reserves just being released. Back in the day, I used to envy his dignified palate.

“Let’s get right to business shall we?” Blaine said, and I practically choked on the sip of wine. I still hadn’t figured out how I was going to get myself out of this predicament, but I’d die trying. Seriously, I’d die because Blaine would probably shoot me on the spot, but there was no other choice. I had to trudge on.

“Look, Blaine, I know you said I couldn’t have more time, but there’s so many things you don’t know about what’s happening, and well, I—”

Blaine’s eyes darkened and he cut me off. “You better be telling me that you are accepting door number two, which leads to my bedroom, because excuses are like assholes, my pretty. Everyone has one, but not many want to get near one.”

I sucked in a deep breath, tears pricking at the back of my eyelids. “Then you’re just going to have to kill me.”

Blaine gasped at the same time that Max’s fist came down like a hammer on the table, rattling the glasses and knocking over my wine. I grappled with the glass in an attempt to catch what I could before it spilled over onto the floor.

“This is horseshit,” Max growled and stood up. My brother was a giant normally, but when you were sitting, he was a mountain of a man. He reached into his back pocket and the intensity in the room went from a hundred to a thousand. Blaine ducked and his goons moved like ninjas. In a second, there was a gun barrel at the side of Max’s temple and one at the back of his head. He stiffened.

“You better have a very good reason for reaching into the back of your pants, cowboy, or my men are going to escort you out of here and take care of you the same way they did in the old west. I own this fucking town,” he growled between clenched teeth. “And the cops around here are on my payroll. You think real hard about that before you make your move.”

Max blinked and kept his gaze laser focused on Blaine’s. “I was pulling out an envelope. The fella behind me can see I’m not packing.”

“He’s telling the truth, boss,” the pudgy one that looked like a B movie mafia impersonator said over Max’s shoulder.

Blaine tipped his chin, and Max pulled out the envelope. He leaned forward, set it on the table, and tapped it with his index finger. “There’s your money. All four hundred thousand.”

I’m pretty sure at that point surprise wasn’t the word I’d used to explain how I felt. So many emotions warred with one another. Relief. Fear. Pride. Love. The last, though, threw me for a loop.

Disgust.

Right then, I was disgusted with myself that my brother, quite possibly one of the sweetest men alive, who didn’t deserve any of this, was paying off my debt. My father’s debt. A rather
large
debt. It wasn’t like I’d said, “Hey, bro, can I borrow fifty bucks?” No, this was four hundred thousand dollars. Almost half a million.

“You can’t,” I whispered. My voice came out garbled, like I was talking through a ball of cotton.

Max’s eyes cut to mine. “I have. No one threatens my sister or hurts my family when I can take care of it.”

“Can this money be traced?” Blaine asked looking into the envelope at what must be a check since it was very thin in size. Four hundred thousand, even in hundreds, had to be quite a stack.