Stark
I looked up from a bank of computer monitors when a cup of coffee was set down by my elbow. I tugged off my glasses and rubbed my tired eyes. There was no sleeping after Noe pulled back the curtain and let me peek into her past. I hated her story. I hated even more that it wasn’t the first time I’d heard it, or a version of it. I hated that I’d lived inside the less horrible parts of that story myself when I was younger. Trapped somewhere I didn’t want to be, caught up in an impossible position I couldn’t get out of. It twisted me up inside and I was almost resentful of the fact that Noe was strong enough to get out and rewrite the story with herself as her own hero. In my version, there were no heroes. There was nothing more than a tragic ending and a whole lot of innocence lost. In my story, the heroes were villains, and I was a stupid pawn in a game I still didn’t know how to play.
“You been down here all night?” Booker asked the question even though the answer was obvious. I hadn’t moved from the security room in the loft’s basement for hours. My legs were numb. My back was stiff. My mind was going a thousand miles a minute, but I was oblivious to all of it because a couple of hours ago, reviewing security footage, I’d seen Jonathan Goddard crawl out of that mangled shipping container. A blacked-out SUV had wheeled its way to the wreckage, and the Mayor had managed to limp his way inside. He was alive.
I picked up the coffee and ran a hand over the rough stubble that now covered the lower half of my face. “Yeah. I was watching the container for survivors.” Even though Benny wasn’t someone I wanted to spend my free time with I realized everything he was risking for to save Noe. I was hoping he made it out of the fray and was on his way to the person that he’d been willing to deal with the Devil for.
Booker grunted as he leaned against the desk. He was back in a severely tailored suit. One cut specifically to hide the bulge of the gun he wore strapped to his side. “It records. You could have fast forwarded through the footage this morning. You didn’t need to watch it all night.”
I knew that. I was the one who had installed the security system. It was top of the line and had all the bells and whistles. It didn’t require any human interaction to operate, but this human couldn’t pull himself away. The steady stream of visuals, the low hum of surveillance footage being recorded, soothed some of the wildness that was alive in my blood after listening to Noe explain why being homeless, alone, and hungry was better than being home. The machines did what they were supposed to do; they didn’t have stories that made my guts feel like lead, ones that turned my heart inside out and made my head feel like it was caving in. All these feelings were going to bury me. I couldn’t breathe through them, couldn’t think with them circling around every thought.
“I know. I couldn’t sleep, so I figured I would come down here and see if anyone made it out. Benny pulled himself out not long after you got Noe free. He looked pretty banged up, but he was moving under his own steam.” I was surprised how relieved I was when I saw the dark-haired man stagger into sight. I knew Benny only went after Noe because Nassir had him by the balls, but he got her out when no one else could. Even if he was a self-serving asshole, I felt like I owed him, and I was glad he hadn’t gone down doing this final favor in his hometown.
“If he was moving then he’s fine. He’s already gone. He has someone waiting on him, and he was anxious as hell to get back to her. Gotta say, I’m glad he’s gonna make it. If a shithead like Benny can find a girl willing to wait on him, that means there is hope for the rest of us rejects.” He took a sip of the coffee he had clenched in his hand and lifted an eyebrow at me. “Anyone else make it out?”
I dipped my chin in a half nod. “Goddard. Got picked up a little before dawn, but he was barely moving. A clean-up crew showed an hour ago and pulled out the bodies of the cop and some skinny guy. They dumped them in the water along with the security detail you took out and wiped the container clean. They went after the surveillance tapes.”
“They freak out when they realized there was none?” Booker sounded slightly amused. Nothing good went down at those docks, and a lot of that nothing good fell under Nassir’s watchful eye. The only surveillance that happened on the shady waterfront area came from this building. It was just one more way that Nassir kept his finger on the pulse of everything that went on in his city.
“Yeah. They definitely seemed confused. You would think a guy like Goddard would know more about the place he uses for all his dirty work.” Noe was far from the first person to pay a visit to that shipping container.
Booker snorted. “Guys like Goddard think they are above any kind of law. They think they can explain away something like a midnight visit to the docks with a few careful words. He has his supporters snowed. What he declares as the truth they’ll believe, even with the facts right in front of them.”
Goddard was the kind of politician who ensured the rich got richer and pitted the poor against one another. His supporters were influential and well off. They wouldn’t want to rock the boat by questioning why the man who paved their way on easy street was skulking around in the middle of the night, in the slums, with an armed escort. It would take more than a video of Goddard going in and out of that container to push him off his pedestal.
“I know all about guys like Goddard.” He was exactly like the men who made me a deal I couldn’t refuse. He operated the same way they did. Stripping away choice and putting the vulnerable in impossible situations. It was going to be an absolute pleasure to flip the script and put this asshole in a position that was impossible to wiggle out of. “You tell Titus about the dirty cop?”
Booker nodded. “I did. He was pissed. Guess he won’t have to kick ass considering the guy is now fish food. He also mentioned Reeve left a bunch of stuff here when they were using the loft I want to put Noe in. He said she was welcome to any of it.”
Reeve Black was the cop’s stunning baby-momma. Before they had been parents-to-be, she’d been a witness to a crime and the girl the entire Point despised. Titus was supposed to keep her safe and at a distance. He’d failed at both but got the girl and the bad guy in the end, so he was still a hero. Reeve was all long legs and rocked the body of a stripper before the cop knocked her up. She was still round and stacked in all the right places, but now those places were overshadowed by her baby belly. Anything she left would be the opposite of what Noe typically wore, but I guess it was better than Booker’s hand-me-downs, which swallowed her up.
“I’ll let her know.” I’d checked on her throughout the night. After everything she’d been through, I wasn’t surprised that she was exhausted. She didn’t move. She slept still as stone, which I figured was unusual for her. She didn’t flinch or make a sound when I touched her pulse at the hollow of her throat, and she didn’t make a sound when I touched the full curve of her lower lip. I knew it was inappropriate, that I shouldn’t have my hands on her in any way when she wasn’t aware of it. But I needed to know her heart was still beating. I had to feel her breath on my fingertips to calm the raging inferno that was burning every rational thought and every sane and reasonable part of me to ash.
“She was working on getting up when I headed down here. I told her I was leaving for the day and that you were hiding down here in the Batcave. She didn’t want breakfast or coffee, but she did say she wanted a shower.” He pushed off the desk and flicked his fingers over the diamond cufflinks that were attached to his shirt. Even badass enforcers liked a little bling here and there, apparently. “You might want to check on her. She looked pale.” He reached out and clapped a heavy hand on my shoulder. “And get some sleep, boy genius. You look like shit.”
I grumbled a half-hearted agreement and pushed to my feet so I could follow him out of the basement. He paused at the entryway and gave me a look that made my spine stiffen. “If you need a piece, there’s a Sig Sauer in the kitchen behind the Froot Loops. There’s a Glock in the closet in my bedroom, and there’s a ten gauge in the armoire in the guest room.” His eyebrows quirked upwards and a small grin tugged at his mouth. “There’s a twenty-two hidden underneath the sink in the bathroom, and God forbid you need it, there’s an AR-15 in a lockbox under my bed. The key is in the nightstand.”
Booker had an arsenal scattered throughout his apartment. I wasn’t the least bit surprised, but I was a tad intimidated. I knew my way around a weapon, but I’d never been in the position where I’d ever had to use one to defend myself or someone else before. Usually my hands and the training I received under the tutelage of good ol’ Uncle Sam were enough to get the job done. “Good to know, but if someone is badass enough to get through all the security I set up around this place, then they’re probably coming in better armed than I’ll ever be. I’ll get Noe moved over to the other apartment today.” I selfishly wanted her out of his bed.
“Give her the nine mil that’s behind the cereal.” He said it in a way that left no room for argument.
“How do you know she can handle it?” I didn’t like how familiar he was with her after such a short time. It bugged me that he acted like he knew her when I had barely scratched the surface.
He lifted a shoulder and let it fall. “Something tells me there isn’t much that girl can’t handle. She’s made of tough stuff.” He slipped out the front door before I could agree with him. She was made of tough stuff, the kind of stuff that didn’t break no matter what was thrown at it.
I was dragging ass when I took the stairs up to Booker’s unit. Typically, I could run up the three flights and not even get winded, but I was running on fumes and the last traces of adrenaline. My brain was fuzzy, and my normally sharp thoughts felt scattered and unruly. The past and the present were at war in my mind, and the battle for which one made me feel worse was raging.
I made my way through the quiet loft listening for any sound that would indicate Noe was up and moving around. When I got closer to the bedroom, I heard the shower running and swear words chasing the steam out of the open door. It was going to be painful for a while when the water sluiced over her wounds. The thought had me squeezing my eyes closed and clenching my hands into fists. Just because tough things didn’t break didn’t mean they couldn’t be damaged, dented, and scratched. The fact Noe was currently suffering so much wear and tear because of me scraped across my skin and dug into my belly like sharp knives.
I was turning to walk out of the room so she could finish in peace when the running water went silent and her swearing ramped up a notch. I heard her banging around in the bathroom and then she yelled, “Booker, I need a towel! I’m dripping all over your floor.”
I opened my mouth to tell her Booker was gone and that I would go find her one. I didn’t need her poking through his stuff and running across a submachine gun or a rocket launcher. My brain was ping-ponging between annoyance that she’d called for Booker instead of me and the unrelenting image of her, naked, wet, and dripping onto the tile. I wasn’t a guy prone to fantasy, but damn if I didn’t get all kinds of caught up in the thought of her pretty olive skin glistening with moisture from head to toe. I needed to get away from her. I needed space so I could find a way to wrap armor back around all the soft parts of me she exposed.
I was shaking my head to marshal my thoughts back in order when I heard her swear again. Suddenly, like I conjured her out of a dream, Noe was standing in the pocket doorway of the bathroom wearing nothing more than a scowl of irritation and shimmery, shiny water droplets. Her midnight-colored eyebrows shot up to her hairline, and a bright pink flush stained the top of her chest and crawled up her neck into her face. She didn’t lift her hands to cover herself. She stood as still as I was, not moving at all under my furious and hungry gaze.
I wanted to be polite and look away. I told myself it was rude to stare and that the last thing she needed was some guy she barely knew gawking at her like she was a priceless work of art on a museum wall. I berated myself for this invasion of privacy but none of the lecturing or preaching did any good. The only way I could have torn my eyes off that petite frame, with its perfectly perky breasts and slightly rounded hips, was if someone slapped them out of my head. I couldn’t blink. I was scared to breathe. I felt like if I moved at all she would bolt like a startled deer, and I needed another second, another minute, another hour, to memorize every single part of her.
She was small, but all the parts added up to perfection. Seeing her like this, stripped bare with nothing to hide behind, I couldn’t believe I’d ever been stupid enough to think she was a boy. Everything about her was delicate, feminine, and soft. The hollow of her neck, the elegant curve of her shoulders, the flare of her hips and the fullness of her ass. Her legs weren’t long, but they were toned and shapely. She was the very definition of good things coming in small packages and all I wanted to do was wrap her up and put her on a shelf that was too high and too hard to reach for anyone but me.
Choking on possession and a surge of lust unlike anything I’d ever felt, I belatedly turned my back on her and muttered thickly, “I used all the towels in there last night when I cleaned you up. I’ll go find where Booker keeps the extras.”
She moved. I felt it. The current that ran between us pulsed and throbbed with something hot. I heard her bare feet on the carpet and it took every ounce of willpower I possessed to keep my feet planted and my back turned. She was naked in a room with a very big bed and I was a man who never had such a visceral reaction to anyone . . . ever. If I had a switch, Noe Lee was the only person who had ever come along and flipped it. I was the actual definition of turned on when I had been off for most of my life.
“He told me he was getting ready to head out and that you were downstairs working. I should have asked him before he left. My head was itchy and I decided I couldn’t wait. You can turn around now.” She sounded slightly amused.
Slowly, I turned to face her. She was wrapped up in the comforter from the bed. Her hair was inky black and blood red where it was slicked back from her face. With the bruise on her cheek and the cuts on her wrist, she resembled a superhero who had just saved the world. I took my glasses off so that she was slightly out of focus. Staring at her was making my heart do some crazy things. I’d never felt it beat so fast. Usually, it ticked slow and even like a metronome.
“I’m so sorry.” The words rushed out, blurted with no tact or grace. Realizing in that moment that I wasn’t sorry for watching her but for so many other things. I slammed my glasses back on my face and raked my hands over my head in frustration. “I’m sorry I didn’t help you. I’m sorry I shut the door in your face. I’m sorry you got taken and that you got hurt. I’m sorry I couldn’t find you sooner. I’m sorry you feel safer living on the streets than you did at home. I’m sorry guys like Goddard and your adoptive brother exist, and I’m sorry guys like me aren’t better at stopping them. I’m sorry Benny didn’t put a bullet between Goddard’s eyes so this was all over.” I stopped so I could suck in a breath. I lowered my head so I was looking at the floor between my boots. “And I’m sorry there was no towel for you when you got out of the shower. I’ll go find one.”
I knew good and well there were some things an apology couldn’t fix. I also knew just because you gave one didn’t mean the person on the receiving end had to take it. This girl didn’t seem like she wanted much, and accepting my apology meant she was going to have to hang onto some pretty heavy forgiveness for as long as we were in each other’s lives.
I was at the door when she called out my name. I paused and looked over my shoulder at her. She was perched on the edge of the bed and the comforter was barely staying up around her breasts. I knew now that they were a perfect handful, small but tipped with enchanting and delectable looking nipples that were a dusky peach and caramel color. I wanted to taste them. I wanted to put my hands on them. I was so much bigger than she was that it would be easy to smother her, to suffocate her with all the unchecked desire and wild emotion that was rolling off of me. I needed to get myself together. I needed to compartmentalize and organize everything she made me feel, so I could work past it.
“What happened before has nothing to do with you. I didn’t give you that piece of my past so you would feel sorry for me. I gave it to you so you would know that nothing that happens or has happened to me would ever crush me. I do what I have to do in order to survive, and I make no apologies for it. When I asked you to help me,” she trailed off for a second, her eyes searching mine. “I saw the fear in your eyes. I heard the panic when I mentioned the Mayor was involved. You have your own story and your own reasons for doing what you do. You’re just trying to survive, as well. I’m not going to lie, I was very disappointed in you, but I don’t blame you, Stark. I’m the one who put myself on Goddard’s radar, no one else.”
Fear, disappointment, and pain. They were the holy trinity that defined my life. “I’m still sorry for all of it.”
She rolled her eyes and pointed to the doorway. “Don’t be sorry, be useful. Get me a towel and then come back and tell me your plan to destroy Jonathan Goddard.”
I nodded woodenly while trying to stifle a jaw busting yawn. I blinked at her from behind my glasses when she cocked her head to the side to consider me thoughtfully.
“When was the last time you slept?”
I shook my head to clear the fog and grumbled, “A couple of days ago.”
“Jeez. No wonder you look like a zombie. New plan, get me a towel, take a nap, and then fill me in on your diabolical plot to ruin the Mayor’s life. Why haven’t you been sleeping?”
I was surprised she had to ask. I gave her the only answer I could. “Hard to sleep when you’re choking on fear and disappointment.” She gave a little gasp that I ignored. “I’ll be back in a minute with a couple of towels.”
I felt her eyes boring into my back as I exited the room, and while they didn’t feel like daggers, they still poked and pricked and made me bleed. She saw too much and I was nowhere near ready to give her my story in return. She was strong, unbreakable, and indestructible. There was no way I wanted her to know I was fragile, brittle, and ready to shatter with even the slightest touch. If she knew how just how weak I was, she would never trust me to keep her safe. She wouldn’t believe that I could handle Goddard and his perversions. She would go after him herself, because she was a hero.
I never wanted her to know I’d never done anything heroic . . . even when the person I loved the most needed me.