CHAPTER Nine
“You here?” Raze yelled from the kitchen door. Of course he knew she was there. First, he could hear the TV. Second, where else would she be? But he wanted to warn her, as a courtesy, and not alarm her by walking in unexpectedly.
“Yeah,” she hollered.
He stepped into the living room and glanced at the TV. “You at a stoppin’ point? Got somethin’ I want to show you.”
“What?” She brightened and looked as excited as a child at the mention of ice cream.
He gave her the tiniest lopsided grin. “Just come.”
“Okay.” She used the remote to turn off the TV, slid on her Vans, and shuffled over to where he stood. “Am I going to like it?”
“Hope so.”
He’d parked the car sideways on the gravel drive at the end of the walkway that led to the carport and garage. He opened the kitchen door and stepped back so that she could go through first.
When she saw the car, she said, “Is somebody here?”
“No. It’s yours.”
She looked confused. “What’s mine?”
“The car, silly.”
She gaped, mouth moving, but no sound coming out. “That’s not my car. That car is gorgeous. And new. And… perfect.”
He was nodding. “Yeah. It is all that. It’s also yours.”
She looked up at Raze with liquid eyes. “How?”
“Went over to Henry’s and asked for your money back. Then I called in a favor. Got you a car worth havin’. It’s in good shape. It’ll last a long time.”
Overwhelmed didn’t begin to describe the emotions that were churning in her brain and in her stomach. People didn’t go out of their way to make things easier for her. Quite the opposite, it seemed.
“I don’t know what to say, Ruin. It’s just… so perfect,” she repeated.
“Say, ‘Let’s go for a drive’.”
She laughed. “Let’s go for a drive!”
She started to climb in behind the steering wheel, but Raze said, “Don’t you want to get your license?”
Stopping dead still, she realized that he’d said she needed to get her license, not that he wanted to see it. “Sure.” She smiled.
She grabbed her purse and, on the way to the back door, decided that Bless would like a ride, too. So she grabbed the leash, fastened it onto Bless’s collar, and hurried back out to what she was sure was the best car in the world.
Bless jumped into the back seat.
“How did you know I like Jeeps?”
He smiled. “I didn’t. How could I know that, stray girl?”
“I think it’s a sign.”
“A sign of what?”
She shrugged. “Have I ever told you I love red?” she asked Raze.
He shook his head slightly. “No. You never have.”
Taking a deep breath before she turned the key, she looked at Raze as if to say, “Will it or won’t it?”
The car growled awake then settled into a pleasant purr. She laughed and rolled the back window down for Bless.
Raze couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt more pleasure than he got from watching stray girl’s delight. She was practically glowing. Now and then she would stop and fiddle with something on the console or the steering column. She tried the radio, the cruise control, and the fog lights.
“Oh look. This shows me what direction I’m going.” She was referring to a small lighted directional display on the rear view mirror.
“It doesn’t have GPS.”
“I don’t need that. I have this!” She tapped the little display on the mirror that said NW.
“It is four wheel drive. That means you’re gonna spend more in gas, but you’re not likely to get stuck in the mud.”
She nodded her approval. “The inside feels like, I don’t know, luxury. I don’t know how you got this for… Wait a minute. Did somebody die in this car?”
Raze stared at her for a full two seconds before laughter overtook him. Since Clover had never heard him laugh before, she was momentarily stunned.
She pulled off to the side of the road and said, “That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh.” He shrugged. “Tell me why that is.”
“What? That I’m not yucking it up half the time like a damn fool?”
“No,” she said carefully. “Why you’re so serious most of the time. Did something bad happen to you?”
Looking into her eyes, in the quiet intimacy of the cab of a Jeep Liberty, he felt like he could lose himself in the sincerity he read there. Of its own volition, his hand reached over to slide a lock of silky hair through his fingers. It was cool to the touch. And soft. So soft. He was a little mesmerized by the feel.
At length he said, “I guess to answer that question I’d have to tell you stuff about myself.”
“Okay.”
“You think you could find your way back to the house?”
She looked around and laughed when she realized that she was going to have to admit that she had no idea where they were. She shook her head.
“Let’s head back. Turn left at that stop sign.”
Six minutes later they were walking into the kitchen. She sat down at the dinette. Raze put an envelope of papers on the table before he went to the refrigerator and took out a beer. He held up a bottle in query as to whether she wanted one or not.
She said, “Water. Please.”
When he sat down, he opened the envelope and took out the papers. “I had them leave the name blank since I’m not sure what name is on your driver’s license. And it needs to match. Right now the car has an insurance binder in my name. We’ll get it switched over as soon as I know who to say is the owner of the car.”
She looked down and put her hands in her lap. “Please don’t think I’m not grateful for… everything. But I can’t tell you any more about me than I already have.”
“What is it that you think might happen if you talk to me? About whatever it is that’s going on?”
“Well…” The truth was that, a couple of days before, when she hadn’t known anything about him, she didn’t know if he was the sort of person who would try to claim a reward. But even though she acknowledged that she wasn’t always the world’s best judge of character, hence three ex-boyfriends and one ex-husband, she felt sure down to the curl of her toes that Raze Rouen was not the betraying kind. “Would you promise that anything I say…?”
“Just between us. You got my word.”
“I’m not telling stuff that could get me killed to somebody who won’t say why he doesn’t smile.”
“I smile.” His response was automatic while his brain was still replaying the phrase ‘get me killed’.
“No. You don’t. I spent the first few hours working for you calling you ‘frowny guy’. And here’s the thing. Everybody knew who I was talking about.”
“That might have been because of the context.”
“No. It wasn’t because of the context, Ruin. It was because they only see you frown.”
He took a swig of beer, eyes never leaving hers. “Woman wrecked my life.”
When he didn’t say more, she said, “Really? I’m not seeing that. Your life looks pretty together to me. You’ve got a thriving business. You own your own house. Two vehicles. A dog who’d die for you. Friends who like you enough to make an event out of teasing you. And a community who practically cheers when they see you dance. Your life doesn’t look wrecked. It looks like one big fat success story.”
Hearing things from an objective perspective caused an almost instantaneous shift. She was right. Dead on. And damn. What was he acting so fucking miserable about?
She wasn’t done. “But I still want to hear the story.”
“Why?”
“Because I like you and, if you feel like your life was ruined,” she couldn’t help but stop and smile at the play on words, “I want to know what you’re thinking. Wait. That’s not right. I’d want to know your history no matter what.”
“I’ll give the pocket version if you swear you’ll tell me everything and not hold back.” She looked solemn, like she wasn’t down with the plan. “The car is gassed up. All you have to do is fill your name in on the paperwork. I’ll give you what you earned for three shifts in addition to your tips. You can drive away and not look back.
“Or you can hang around long enough to see where this goes.” He motioned between the two of them, like it had been established that there was a ‘them’ to factor in. “I need to know who’s sleeping in my bed. And why.” He sat back and stretched his long legs out in front of him. “That’s not too much to ask. I probably don’t have to tell you how I’m hopin’ you choose, but if I got you a car that’s gonna take you away from me… so be it. I can’t get in deeper without knowin’ who you are.”
Clover put both palms to her cheeks and blinked several times, thinking she could be making the best decision or the worst mistake of her life. “Alright. Deal.”
“Deal, you’ll tell me everything?”
“Yes.”
It didn’t take long for Raze to describe his history. How he’d been dumped with his uncle, why he’d joined the Guard and ended up in a war zone, the cheating, the divorce, everything. He expected stray girl to be sympathetic and feel sorry for him. If she did, that was not what she said.
What she said was, “You lied to me.”
“What?””
“I said ‘you’re not an expert on car mechanics’ and you didn’t deny it. And it turns out you’re like the great kowabunga of all grease monkeys.”
Slowly he smiled. “You didn’t ask me if I knew anything about cars.”
“A subtle distinction.”
“No. It’s not. I also didn’t tell you that I like Wagner. That doesn’t mean I lied about it.”
She frowned at the incongruity of that statement. “You like German opera?” He shrugged, looked away, and turned the bottle up. She watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed. Fascinating. “Then you also lied about ignorance of Lord of the Rings. I’d bet on it!”
He might have looked a tiny bit sheepish. “Fine. You got me there. I have read Lord of the Rings. Saw the movies, too.” He waved toward the living room. “On cable.”
“Well,” she said, “that invalidates our deal. I can’t tell my story to a liar.”
The gleam that jumped to Raze’s eyes made him look like he was channeling the devil himself. Clover instantly began reconsidering the wisdom of teasing the devil. Himself. “You think you can break a deal with a man like me?”
When he began to stand slowly, she said, “Eeep,” and bolted for the other room. It was a small house. She ran to the bedroom and tried to shut the door, but he was too fast. The door was torn out of her hands and a second later she found herself on her back on the bed being tickled mercilessly by a man who meant business and was clearly enjoyment her torment.
“Stop!” she panted breathlessly. “You can’t do this.”
He nodded decisively, white teeth making a rare appearance as he sat on top of her, legs straddling her hips. “I can. And I’m betting I can do this longer than you can do that.”
She supposed what he meant by ‘that’ was squirming, gasping, turning purple, desperately trying and failing to get her midsection away from his hands.
“Please,” she begged.
A charged current of sexual awareness slammed into both of them at the same time as the compromising nature of their surroundings and the electrical currents running between the touchpoints of their bodies simultaneously crystalized into a moment of perfect carnal clarity. Raze saw in her eyes that she would be his for the taking. And, while that might be a bucket list item, it was not on his immediate agenda. So he decided to steer things in a different direction before there was no turning back.
He stood up. Taking her hand, he pulled her to her feet and said, “Get your ass to the table. The kitchen is now your confessional. And I’m your fucking priest.”
“Let’s start with your name.”
“Clover.”
Raze didn’t know what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been ‘Clover’. He appeared to be attempting to marshal patience. “Is. That. Your. Real. Name?”
She shot out of her chair and stomped away to the bedroom. Each time her foot struck on the old wood floor forcefully he heard a slight rattle of dishes in the cabinets and felt the reverberation through his chair.
He looked at Bless, who was lying on the floor, but alert and keenly interested in whatever was disturbing the new pack member.
After the sounds of distant rustling from the other part of the small house, the sound of stomping reversed. She stormed back into the kitchen and slapped her driver’s license down on the table.
“No need to be haughty,” he said calmly. “It’s not like I have no reason to be distrustful.”
“You have NO reason to be distrustful. Other than my name I never told you one thing about myself, true or untrue.”
His eyes cast downward to the license sitting on the table. He picked it up. Though not particularly flattering, it was a photo of the woman he knew as stray girl.
“Clover Fields.” His eyes raised to hers slowly.
She rolled her eyes, threw her hands up, and let them fall on her thighs. “What can I say? My parents think they’re funny. ‘No one will forget your name, Clover. If you want to run for president of your class, you’re halfway there because everybody will know you.’”
Raze sighed. “That’s probably true. So your name is Clover Fields. It may take me a minute to get used to that.”
“I don’t want you to get used to it. You cannot use my name!”
Raze didn’t bother to ask the question that was hanging in the air between them. “Why not?” simply didn’t need to be said out loud.
Taking in and letting out a big breath, she gushed out the whole story like a fountain that had been clogged and was suddenly freed. She included the cheating husband and the credit card debt because she felt like she owed him the whole picture or nothing.
When she was done, he said, “Christ.”
With a sigh, she said, “I think I’ll take that beer now.”
“How much was it?”
“The mob money? Two hundred and seventy-five thousand.” He whistled. “Tell me about it. I was all set to be a slave to banks for the rest of my life. Then I thought I got a visit from a fairy godmother. That turned into an unwanted visit from the godfather.”
“So your plan was to run to Texas? ‘Cause you thought we don’t have paved roads and telephones?”
“No! I didn’t think that. I just thought it would be, you know, remote.”
“So you bought a junker from Henry. Where were you gonna go?”
“I’d planned to keep going west.” She stopped abruptly and focused on Raze. “Where would you have gone? If you were in, um, a situation like mine?”
Cocking his head, he said, “All things considered, I think I’d probably head to Cajun country.”
“Louisiana?”
“Yeah. I learned somethin’ about the culture when I was there with the Guard.” He shrugged. “Lots of places to get lost. And with their history, Cajuns have gotten real good about mindin’ their own business. Understandably. And keepin’ things to themselves.” He took a sip of beer and set the bottle down. “God willin’, I’ll never have to make a choice like that. But if I did, I’d head toward Lafayette Parish.” He shifted his gaze to study Clover. “Smart of you to try to erase your cyber footprint. But if you ever got pulled over, they’d run your driver’s license through the system.”
“I didn’t think of that.”
“That’s ‘cause you’re not a criminal, sugar. Lucky for you, you found your way to Dripping Springs and then got stranded by a piece of shit Toyota.” He chuckled and shook his head. “That apparently will start for anybody at all but you.”
“That’s not really funny,” she said.
“Yeah.” He smiled broader. “It is.”
Raze got quiet and seemed lost in his head.
“What are you thinking?” she said.
Instantly his focus cleared as his eyes jerked to hers. “That it would be wrong to sell that car for parts.” He pulled out his phone and called Brash. “Changed my mind. Don’t sell that car.” Pause. “Yeah. The one at the compound.” Pause. “I don’t know. That’s the best I got.” Pause. “Okay. Thanks.” Pause. His gaze fixed on the woman patiently trying to figure out what was going on. “Yeah. She loves it. Fits her like a glove.”
When he hung up, Clover looked resigned and her tone was flat. “You’re giving me back the Toyota and sending me on my way.” She sucked in a shaky breath, nodded resolutely, and started to rise. “That’s what I…”
“Sit your butt right back down in that chair. You’re not goin’ anywhere, ‘cause we’re a long way from done.” She sat back down, lines forming between her brows. “Of course I’m not givin’ you back the Toyota and sendin’ you on your way. What’s the matter with you? Are you daft? Or do you think I’m the kind of man who runs from trouble?”
“But you said… about the car…” She pulled back, looking confused as could be.
It wasn’t so much that he wanted to avoid the appearance of sentimentality like a bad rash as that the subject of the weird Toyota was off topic. At least that was the line of logic followed by his inner rationalization.
“I decided I want that car. End of story. It’s for me. Not for you. Why would I give you back a car that you can’t turn on? So you can live in the parking lot?”
“Well…”
“Well, I wouldn’t. That’s just silly.”
“Okay.” When put like that, it did seem to have been a silly conclusion.
“Back to the matter at hand. This is one of those things that can’t be outrun. We’ve got to find a way to fix it. Permanently.”
When his words began to sink in, she stared at him and blinked.
“We?” His eyes caught the tiny tremble of her bottom lip. The question he read on her face broke his heart in two. And that was before a single tear spilled out of her very expressive and, at the moment, very liquid eyes. The memory of the first time he ever saw her jumped to the screen of his mind. Damp. Lost. And looking back over her shoulder.
Stray girl was right. Bad stuff had come his way, but he’d always had a home. And even when he pushed them away, he knew he had friends who would drop everything in the middle of their own wedding and come if he asked them to.
The fact that she so desperately needed somebody on her side only made him determined to be that man. He’d use every resource in his arsenal, but he would see the day when Clover Fields never felt like she had to look back over her shoulder.
He leaned over, cupped her cheek with his big hand, and wiped the tear away with his thumb. Reflexively, she leaned into his hand. He liked the look and feel of that and knew that what he wanted out of life was for stray girl’s impulse to always be movement toward him. Not away from him.
Leaning back, he said, “If providence was gonna dump you someplace, you’re lucky that it was here. Because if you’re runnin’ from somethin’, you couldn’t be in a better place, except maybe a top secret bunker. And who wants to live like that? I’ve got resources. Friends who are as connected in their own way as the people you’re crossways with.”
He also had the money to clear her debt and knew that would be the quickest cleanest way to dispense with the problem.