My eyes open and the sunlight creeping through the drapes causes me to shield my face. I feel movement to my right and a warm body with the softest skin curls into me.
Teagan.
The events from the previous night filter through the morning haze. I can’t help but smile, replaying the perfect end to a shitty day.
My jovial mood is cut short when Teagan rolls over again, restless in her sleep. For the first time, I can clearly see the scars that mar her back. On the center of her spine, between her shoulder blades, is some kind of celestial body. The colors are beautiful and vibrant; shades of red, orange, blue, and purple mingle against the dark backdrop of space. What was once an amazing piece of art is now tainted by faint white jagged lines. A white-hot rage burns in the center of my chest and my muscles bunch so tight I’m afraid I could snap off a limb. That fucker will pay for what he’s done.
Just then my phone chirps, pulling my homicidal thoughts back to the present. Irritably grabbing my phone, I realize it’s a text from Briggs.
Briggs: You ready for tonight? We have confirmation on the shipment. The team has everything in place.
Fuck! Tonight’s the night we are supposed to raid the dock in hopes of catching the leader of this operation. I look down at Teagan. Her fiery waves spread across my pillow. A knot forms low in my stomach, knowing I have to do this. The thought of leaving her unprotected is one I can’t process.
Declan: Yeah man, I’ll be ready.
My phone chimes just seconds later with another reply.
Briggs: You get your head in the right place? Too much at stake for you to go in without your head in the game.
His statement pisses me off, but I know he’s right. Lives are on the line and there is no room for even the slightest error in judgement or distraction.
Declan: It will be. Let’s just get this shit over with.
Briggs: Roger that.
I set my phone back on the nightstand and turn to see Teagan eyeing me wearily.
“Everything okay?” Her voice laced with concern. I rub the palm of my hand roughly over my face, still trying to wipe away the morning grogginess.
“I have to work tonight. We’ve been planning a raid for a while now and tonight’s the night.” I can feel the tension working its way back up my shoulders as I wait for her response. She seems to be contemplating the implications of my words.
“I just want you to be careful.” Her tone is stronger than her expression.
“I will be. I have so much more at risk now. I’m not about to gamble with fate.” My words catch me off guard, but I don’t regret them.
“Should we talk about last night?” she questions.
“I meant every word I said.” I reach up and tuck a rogue strand of hair behind her ear.
“I guess that’s enough,” she voices. Somehow, I don’t believe that’s the truth, but I’ll take it for now.
Then a dawning realization hits me like a ton of bricks.
Shit.
“Uh, Teagan, I think maybe we do need to talk.” Her face contorts with obvious confusion, but to her credit, she keeps her voice steady.
“Okay? What’s wrong?” There is genuine concern in her tone.
“I don’t know how to say this…” I pause, fearing the backlash for my lack of responsibility. “I-uh, I didn’t wear a condom last night.” Before she could speak, I immediately went into defense making sure she knew I wasn’t always so irresponsible. “I swear I’m clean. You are the first woman I’ve ever lost control with.” There. I said it.
“Will you calm down?” she asks, sounding a little bored with the conversation. “I trust that you are clean. I am, too. Yes, we should have been more careful. That’s not just on you, it’s on me too. Besides…” She starts but pauses to gather self. “I can’t get pregnant.”
Her eyes trail up my face. It’s clear that she has a lot riding on my response. My expression softens almost immediately, and I pull her into my arms.
“I know I say it too often, but I’m sorry.” I only hope she can feel the sincerity of my words.
“Just one of the many things Mark took from me.” I barely resist the urge to growl when she says his name. “I’ve had some time to come to terms with it. When I lost the baby, the doctor told me there was so much damage that getting pregnant again wasn’t in the cards, so to speak. Complications from the surgery resulted in too much scar tissue.”
I could do nothing more than hold her, trying my damnedest to take away some of her pain. Just sitting there, Teagan in my arms, I realized the momentary fantasy I had of Teagan pregnant with my child could never happen. The biggest revelation came when the realization hit that it didn’t matter. I don’t care if she can give me babies. I just want her.
“Coffee. I need coffee,” she quips, breaking me from my reverie as her naked form ambles out of bed. She looks around at the mess of clothes strewn about the floor. Eyeing the white button down I had lying over the foot of the bed, she snags it up and saunters out of the room.
The smile on my face threatens to split it in half.
The last eighteen hours or so have been intense. Declan has a way of clouding my judgement. The moment he touched me, I’m positive I would have given away military nuke codes if he’d asked for them.
I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that I shared my past and my body with someone. Memories from last night run through my head and I can’t help but smile. Declan has seen me at my worst and he wanted me anyway. That awareness seems to have lifted a stone or two from the weight on my shoulders. I already feel lighter.
I set up the coffee maker before busying myself with breakfast. In the past, mundane chores such as cleaning the kitchen, or cooking, allowed too much time for darkness to invade my thoughts. Today however, is much different. I find myself enjoying the serenity. I’m in such a great mood I find myself quietly singing and dancing around the room as I gather the ingredients for French toast. Focusing on the skillet before me, I softly sing Sheryl Crow’s “Soak Up the Sun” to myself. Suddenly someone touches my arm from behind. I startle as my thoughts race and I momentarily forget where I am. A piercing scream escapes my lungs and my body goes limp, aiming for the floor. I close my eyes knowing exactly how much it’s going to hurt when I hit the floor, but it never comes. Two strong arms wrap themselves around me and I finally open my blurry eyes only to be met with Declan’s intense emerald stare. A small tear escapes the corner of my eye as I open my mouth.
“Declan, I-I’m so—“ I begin, but he cuts me off mid-sentence.
“Don’t you dare apologize to me.” His voice manages to be both tender and stern. “I should know better than to come up behind you like that.” He stares at me for several moments before he seems to gather himself and slowly releases me to my feet.
“But I am severely disappointed I interrupted the view. Some men wait their whole lives for tickets to that show.”
My whole body tenses with the need to fight back the emotions that threaten to consume me. This incredible man has a way with words. I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to fathom the concept of a man wanting me for me.
He raises his hand up and gently brushes my face. Unfortunately, instinct takes over and I flinch. The sadness in his eyes guts me. I know he won’t hurt me but I’m still a bit shell shocked from just a few moments ago.
“You want some coffee?” I ask, needing desperately to wipe the sadness from his eyes.
“I’ll get it,” he says, placing a chaste kiss on my lips. “What are you making? It fucking smells amazing in here.”
“Thanks,” I beam at the complement. “I hope you like French Toast.”
He slaps a hand over his heart and dramatically fakes a heart attack.
“I take that as a yes?” I laugh.
“Hell yes, I like French Toast. I like you in my shirt even better.” He smirks, pulling me in for a more passionate kiss.
It’s obvious to me now that his theatrics were an attempt to help me shake any residual feelings from just a few moments ago. It worked like a charm. Somehow, Declan already knows exactly what I need. I know I’m playing with fire and it’s dangerous, but I can’t bring myself to care.
We sit down to enjoy our breakfast much like we did the morning before. A comfortable silence sits between us until Declan speaks up.
“I don’t like the idea of leaving you alone tonight. But I don’t think I’m going to have a choice. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone or when I’ll be back.” Apology written all over his handsome face.
“I’ll be fine,” I say, my tone stronger than I feel. “Since the bar is closed, I don’t have to work. I’ll just hang out in a café or something. Maybe call my friend Celeste and see if she’s free.” I could use some girl talk.
“I don’t want to sound like I’m telling you what to do, but I don’t think that’s a good Idea. We don’t know where he is and the risk of you being recognized is still very real.” He’s right and I hate it. “This place has an alarm system that, when programed, sends signals to my phone in the event someone enters the house regardless of how they do it.”
That knowledge lifts a tiny bit of the fear residing in my gut.
“What if I invited her here for drinks and a movie or something?” Asking permission more so to invite a stranger into his house.
“If you are willing to let me check in on her, you guys can take over the house for all I care. As long as you stay inside.” His expression changes slightly and he follows up with a soft—“please.”
“What do you mean check in on her?”
“I mean I want to look into who she is. Run a background check and all that.” The look of annoyance on my face must be evident. “Teagan, you just came to town. You don’t know this woman that well and this situation is serious. We need to consider every option he may use to get to you.”
Fuck. He has a point.
“Okay, I can work with that. Her name is Celeste Martinez. She owns the salon across from Blind Luck. You’re going to like her. She’s impossible to ignore.” I stifle a giggle as the memory of our first meeting surfaces. “She held me up with a banana in a drug store. She caught me picking out a box hair dye and refused to let me purchase it.”
“I’m sorry, what? A banana? You can’t be serious.” He smiles as he rolls his eyes.
“Scouts honor.” I hold up two fingers as proudly as I can.
“Maybe I shouldn’t leave you two alone together.”
His request is reasonable. More importantly, it’s just that… A request. Not once has Declan demanded I do something. He explained his reasoning and met me halfway. I didn’t even know it was possible to have a relationship that wasn’t mostly one-sided. Is that what this is? A relationship?
God, I need someone to talk to before my head explodes.
Pulling out my phone, I shoot Celeste a quick text.
Teagan: Hey Celeste, It’s Teagan. If you’re not busy this evening, I could really use a girls’ night.
I know we haven’t known each other that long but she strikes me as the type that couldn’t care less. Fuck, she already knows my biggest secret. I think it’s safe to say that we have crossed the bridge into friendship.
My phone buzzes just a few seconds later.
Celeste: Does this girls’ night come with cocktails and gossip?
Teagan: More than your heart could possibly desire.
Celeste: You had me at “Hey”.
I burst out laughing at her version of a Jerry Maguire reference. She must have a serious addiction to romantic movies. Even the name of her salon is a reference to the movie Runaway Bride.
“That’s the first time I have ever heard you laugh freely.” Declan’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “It’s a sound I hope to hear often.”
What am I supposed to say to that?
I don’t trust myself to get words over the lump in my throat, so I say nothing. Having finished his breakfast, Declan stands, placing a kiss in my hair. A move that I have come to love.
“I’m going to share Celeste’s information with Briggs. If I am not comfortable with what I find, we are calling this off. Deal?” he questions.
I nod. “Yeah. I’m actually really excited about this. I haven’t had a close girlfriend in… well, my entire adult life now that I think about it.” The realization hits me hard. Yet another thing Mark robbed me of.
“Then we probably need to hit the store for supplies. I don’t know much about women, but I can only assume that cheap beer and beef jerky aren’t high on the list of things to enjoy.” I cover my mouth as I try to stifle a giggle.
“Not that those things don’t have a special place in my heart, but you are probably right.” I pause when it dawns on me that I’m completely broke. I haven’t worked long enough to get a paycheck yet and I’ve spent just about everything Manny gave me.
“But in all honesty, we will be fine with what’s right here.”
“Nope. I’ve already decided we’re going to the store.” His tone says that’s final and it strikes a nerve. I stare him down and suddenly, it’s a stand-off. He’s waiting for me to challenge him.
“I said it’s fine,” I retort.
“And I chose not to listen.” He smiles, pulling me from the chair. His kiss is scorching, and I lose all sense of argument. “Now, please get dressed.” The cocky bastard has the audacity to look happy with himself.
“Fine.” I huff for dramatic effect, turning on my heel toward the bedroom to change. The amused chuckle I hear as I leave the room does not cause the flutters in my belly. Nope, absolutely not.
Once in the bathroom, I realize the subject of Manny was left unfinished. I don’t understand anything at this point and lack of information has the potential to end me. He told me not to call, that it wasn’t safe, but I have to. Pulling up his number, I take a deep breath. This is all one huge misunderstanding. It has to be.
After three rings, Manny’s usually cheerful voice is laced with panic.
“Baby girl, is everything okay?”
“Hey Manny. I’m fine but uh, I have some questions.” I don’t have the slightest idea how to start this conversation. What is the proper etiquette for questioning your father figure about his ties to the Cuban drug cartel?
“Oh, gracias a Dios! Martha and I have been worried sick about you. What’s on your mind?”
What isn’t on my mind right now?
“Were you ever a Cop?” The words fall flat on my tongue.
Manny sighs heavily on the line, pausing before he speaks.
“Yes.” One word threatens to unravel everything I thought I knew.
“He found me. I don’t know how, and it doesn’t matter but my world is spinning and I just… I just need to put one foot on the ground. I’ve met someone who is going to help keep me safe. I trust him. But he told me things. Things about you.”
“Teagan, who is he? You can’t just trust people!” His tone is a combination of anger and parental fear. He never calls me Teagan.
“I’m not a child, Manny. I know. I can’t explain things right now, but I will soon. He’s DEA. I’m safe with him, I promise.” My voice is pleading. I don’t want him and Martha worrying that I’ve made poor decisions.
“If anything happens to you, he will die.” I’ve never heard icier words come from his mouth.
“Will you tell me what happened ten years ago?” Everything in my life has been lies and deception. My faith in humanity lies within his answer.
“I was blindsided. My partner, Frank, and I had been placed deep undercover. It started out as a preliminary investigation. At the time, we didn’t know how far the cartel’s reach was. To make a long story short, I found out my partner had double crossed the force, and me. His deception had pushed him up the ranks within the cartel. When I tried to confront him, he ordered my death. Just like that.” He sucks in a breath; the story is clearly hard for him to tell but he soldiers on. “He wasn’t just my partner, he was my best friend… and my lover. He ripped my heart out and took my life away for money.”
His confession doesn’t shock me as much as I’d expect it to. I’ve wondered before what his sexual preferences were, but it always felt too invasive to ask.
“He took all the evidence to our Capitan and convinced him I was the traitor. But not everyone lacks loyalty like him.”
“In my time under, I had befriended another lackey. As much as you can when you lie to them about who you are. Anyway, he was the one instructed to kill me. A year prior to that, I lied to the boss about something he messed up, saving his life. He didn’t care that I lied. In his eyes, I had earned his respect. In turn, he let me go. I figured since I was “dead” anyway and no one was looking for me, I could start fresh. He is still a loyal friend to this day. You met him at the bus station.”
His confession has me reeling. This can’t be real life. But one thing about his story is eating at me.
“I’m sorry he hurt you. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. You deserve more than that.” My heart breaks for him. That kind of deception would tarnish the average person. But not my Manny.
“Thank you, Baby Girl. He didn’t break me. It was a blessing in disguise. It truly was.”
Ever the optimist.
After a quick shower, I dress, opting for a pair of denim shorts and vintage band tee. I choose to wear my hair up, not something I do often. Wrapping it up into a messy bun, I glance at myself in the mirror. I can’t help but smile at my reflection. I look happy. With a fresher outlook on the day, I head toward the living room to see that Declan has changed as well and appears to be waiting for me.
Declan’s house is central to everything in downtown Miami. It makes the drives short but there is nothing like soaking up the Miami sun. The warm ocean air is the perfect complement to such a beautiful day.
Declan kills the engine, making me realize I was so lost in the trip that I hadn’t realized we stopped. The smile on his face tells me he is amused by something, but I have no idea what. Exiting the Jeep, he comes around to open the door for me. That is something I’m still trying to get used to. He takes my hand in his and guides me toward the store.
I say nothing as Declan fills a cart with pizzas, cupcakes, and enough booze to intoxicate an entire fraternity. Trust me, I’ve seen it.
“How many women are you planning to feed?” I ask.
“I don’t know how much women eat. I’m covering the bases. Anything else while we’re here?” he asks, scanning the isles.
“I think we’re good.” I chuckle.
Soon after, we check out and head to his Jeep with the “supplies”. The moment I exit the store, something feels off. I can’t put my finger on it, but something isn’t right. I try not to let Declan see that I’m starting to panic. The last thing he needs is to be worried about my bullshit. I cautiously scan the parking area, the knot in the pit of my stomach growing. I see nothing out of the ordinary, but I can’t shake the feeling of being watched.
Deciding I’m overreacting, I focus on helping Declan load the items into his car.