HANDS OFF MY WOMAN: Padre Knights MC by Claire St. Rose (84)

“Yes,” Dakota whispered to the stars. He kissed her again and began to slide his tongue between her folds. Slowly, gently, he stroked her with his tongue, making Dakota writhe beneath him. He was relentless, stroking against that spot, driving her wild, sliding his warm tongue over it, always going at his own slow pace. There was a fire building inside of Dakota, burning brighter with every stroke and kiss. “Yes,” she moaned, taking his hair with her hand, trying to make him go faster or harder, but he wouldn’t be swayed.

 

His motions were slow and dedicated and teasing, just the slightest attention to that spot, just a graze against it, driving Dakota wild. “Don’t stop,” she begged, moving her hips against him, trying to force him to move how she wanted. But he refused. He was driving her mad. She was so close, hovering on the edge, so close to finishing. She was moaning and crying out, begging him to finish her.

 

He sped up his attention, his tongue massaging and working that spot. Dakota was so close, and then, so gently, he took her clitoris between his teeth and bit her. It was exactly what she needed and Dakota felt an explosion inside of her as that fire began to burn wild. She cried out and bucked against him as her orgasm rocked through her body sending shockwaves of pleasure pulsing out of her. It seemed endless as his tongue road her through it until finally it subsided and she collapsed into the car, taking deep breaths as if she had just finished a marathon.

 

She was half in the car, but her legs were hanging out, her feet resting on the wet glass. She heard Adam rifle through something as she slowly managed to sit up, and scoot back farther into the car. Adam stood before her, his penis hard and erect and Dakota felt suddenly nervous looking at it. She had never been with anyone like Adam, someone so strong and confident, someone who did the hard work himself instead of hiring someone else, someone who lived a life so very different from her own. Her breath catching in her throat, watching as Adam rolled a condom over himself. He sat down in the car and took Dakota gently by the arm, pulling her towards him. She knew what to do, what he wanted her to do. And with the aftershocks of her orgasm still pulsing through her, Dakota straddled Adam, taking his member in her hand, she guided him into her, lowering herself on him slowly, crying out as she felt his large penis stretch her and fill her up.

 

His hands were on her lower back and he held her close to him as she began to move up and down on top of him, her lean body undulating with his. She leaned over and kissed him as his hips matched her rhythm and they began to move together. She could feel all of him inside of her. She could feel the length and girth of him along her inner walls as he pushed deeper and deeper inside of her. He broke away from her kiss and moaned, burying his face in her shoulder as his hands pushed her up and down as she rode him. She could feel his hips coming up to meet her, and she could hear him as he moaned uncontrollably.

 

It seemed impossible, but something about the way he fit inside of her, something about the way they moved together, hit Dakota in just the right way. She moved herself against him and could feel his member rubbing inside of her. She felt her orgasm start again. She thought it impossible that she would finish again, but her body had other ideas.

 

Suddenly Adam pushed her and she was against the back of the front seat. He pushed even deeper into her and his left hand came up and massaged her breast.

 

“Yes,” Dakota whispered. “Yes, that feels so good.” She felt out of control, she needed to finish. She needed him to finish; she was so close, and she couldn’t stop herself. Her hands went down and she began to play with herself, massaging her clit. As her fingers worked, they occasionally touched Adam’s cock as it came in and out of her and he moaned every time she did it. “I’m so close,” Dakota whispered.

 

“Yes,” Adam responded, and he took her by her hips and began to push into her even harder than before.

 

She kept her fingers on her clit, touching herself to his rhythm. Her other hand grabbed his shoulder as she felt the pressure build inside of her until she couldn't take it anymore. She needed him so desperately. She moaned loudly and cried out as her orgasm overtook her, her body out of her control rocking and pushing against him. With a fierce look of concentration and a loud cry, Adam pushed himself so far inside of her that Dakota cried out and he did it again and again until he finished.

 

For a long moment, Dakota remained on top of him, her head resting on his shoulder, his large warm hands running up and down her back. She felt warm and tired, like she could have slept in the car. She finally pulled herself off and sat down on the seat next to him. He pulled her close, his arm around her shoulder. His fingers drew patterns on the skin of her arm, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to focus on the sensation of his touch.

 

“Wow,” Dakota said, as she took a deep breath, “it’s been a long time since I’ve had sex in a car.” She finally came back down and suddenly felt self-conscious, sitting naked in her own backyard. She pulled herself away from Adam, sliding out of the car and dressing quickly, pulling her jeans up and over her hips and pulling her shirt on. She felt Adam graze her stomach with his fingers, and then he, too, was doing the same thing, pulling a shirt over his abs, a crime against nature.

 

“That was nice,” he said as he opened the door to the passenger side so Dakota could take her seat.

 

“Very nice,” she agreed, adding the words, amazing and indescribable in her head. It had been so long since a man had been so attentive to her, so patient, so focused on her needs. It had been so intense and so pleasurable that Dakota’s body was still shuddering with the aftershocks. She watched Adam walk to the driver’s side and start the car, parking it in the garage and putting the top back up. Dakota was pretty sure she would never look at that car the same way again.

 

It was late, almost two o’clock in the morning, and Dakota was exhausted. They walked in through the back door, standing in the house’s far-too-large kitchen.

 

“I need to run a quick security sweep of the house,” Adam said.

 

Dakota wanted to tell him not to bother. There was no one there; nothing had happened to her; her father was the person in danger. But she knew her protests would fall on deaf ears and, besides, Adam was just doing his job.

 

“I am going to go take a shower and go to bed,” Dakota said. She wanted Adam to come with her. She wanted the two of them in the shower together, warm water and soap covering their skin. She wanted to sleep next to him, to feel his big, comforting presence in the darkness of the night. She wanted him next to her, so this house wouldn’t feel so empty. But she didn’t know how to ask him. She had been hurt so many times before, had been let down, had her heart broken, been used. She needed to be so careful, but he made her feel reckless. He made her want to try all over again – give herself one more chance to be with someone who would actually want to be with her, someone who would let her have her own interests and life, who wouldn’t be intimidated by her family name and money. That was a lot to ask of anyone; maybe it was too much to ask.

 

She didn’t say goodnight. His hand was resting on the counter and Dakota put hers over his gently and walked away from him and upstairs. The house was so empty and dark and cold. When she was a child, and her mother was still alive, the house was alive. They had a full staff and there were always guests: artists, European nobility, architecture students who would come to study the house and her mother’s art collection. The lights were always on, the shades thrown back. They used to have lawn parties and barbeques. But now it was empty, and far too dark. All of the shades had been drawn closed; the staff had been reduced to a few daytime players.

 

As Dakota walked through the familiar darkened hallways toward her room, she ignored the occasional creak and what sounded like footsteps. It was an old house, old houses had personalities; they settled into themselves, made noise.

 

In her bathroom, Dakota ran the shower and undressed, tossing her clothes into a pile and throwing them into a laundry basket. In the shower, warm water ran over her skin and steam filled the room. She let the spray of the water massage her neck and back as she thought about the fact that she had just had sex with her bodyguard in her father’s Cadillac in her own backyard; anyone could have seen them.

 

But Dakota didn’t feel embarrassed. It was the opposite. Every time she thought about it, a smile came to her face. Fucking under the stars, she had never done it before, and she didn’t regret doing it that night. As she turned off the water, she grabbed a towel and dried herself. The bathroom was warm and filled with steam, like a sauna, and when Dakota stepped out it and into her bedroom, she was disappointed to see Adam wasn’t there. Why hadn’t she invited him up – some weird sense of pride? She slipped into her silk shorts and camisole top, and decided to screw being careful. She was going to go and get what she wanted.

 

She pinned her still-wet hair up and checked herself out in the mirror. Deciding she looked good, she stepped out into the hallway to go and find Adam. She was only two steps out of the door when she heard what sounded like a clicking noise and, then, the sound of someone clearing their throat. Dakota stopped cold and looked to her left. There was nothing down there, just a back staircase and a linen closet.

 

“Adam?” she called out, turning towards the staircase, “is that you?” But there was no sound, no noise. “Mike?” she called. But still nothing. The floor creaked underneath her as she walked towards the stairwell. Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her eyes were wide open. She knew there was no one back there; she was just hearing things, freaking herself out over nothing. The house was secure; there was no way that anyone had snuck in here. She kept repeating that thought to herself as she walked closer and closer to the door to the back stairway.

 

It was the servants’ stairway, but no one called it that anymore. A hundred years ago or so, servants, like children, were meant to be neither seen nor heard. They worked behind the scenes making it seem like a house this size ran all on its own. The back stairs were made of wood and creaked; they were dark. Dakota had been scared of them her entire life. When she had been a child, there were nights when she would have to prop a chair against the door to keep it closed, convinced that would keep monsters at bay.

 

She was in front of it now. But she couldn’t hear or see anyone. She carefully pressed her ear to the door and listened. Did she hear someone breathing? Impossible. There wasn’t anyone back there, and if there were she wouldn’t be able to hear them breathing through the door. Still, just to be sure, she reached over and put her hand on the doorknob and, just as she was about to turn it, she heard it again, a muffled cough. Someone was back there.

 

Dakota turned and ran down the hallways, hearing the door open behind her and the sound of heavy boots hitting the floor, catching up with her.

 

“Adam!” she screamed, hoping he was still in the house, that he could hear her. “Adam, help! There’s someone up here!” She screamed. She raced down the hallway towards the main entryway of the house, her feet slamming against the floor, but the footsteps behind her were getting closer. As she ran, she chanced to look back and saw a hulking man in all black with a black mask covering his face, a gun in his hand. He was charging down the hallway, quickly catching up to her.

 

It was every nightmare Dakota had ever had: she was running, but she wasn’t fast enough. She couldn't make herself be fast enough. He was catching up. And she felt his hand on her back, and then he pushed her, a hard push right to the center of her back. Dakota tumbled forward, her head hitting the wall as she went down. She saw stars, and the world began to spin uncontrollably. Dakota tried to stand, but the world wouldn’t stop spinning and she toppled forward, only to get up and try again. She called out for Adam again, but could barely hear her own voice.

 

The man grabbed her by the hair and Dakota screamed in pain. He pulled her into one of the many guest rooms and threw her forward, leaving her sprawled on the floor. She tried to stand and felt a vicious kick to her stomach that knocked the wind out of her. She curled up into a ball. She was on the hard floor and she finally looked up at the man who was trying to kill her. Behind his facemask, she could see that the man had blue eyes. As he lifted his gun and pointed it at Dakota, she stared back at him. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything.

 

And, then, the door swung open and Adam stormed into the room grabbing the attacker by the back of his head, pulling him backwards away from Dakota. One hand still on the man’s head, Adam punched him in the stomach, his other fist hitting the arm with the gun, sending the weapon clattering across the floor. But the attacker wasn’t so easily finished; he recovered and punched Adam in the face, and Dakota could hear the sickening crack of a bone. And then it was a melee as the two men punched and shoved and pushed each other around the too-small room.

 

Gun, Dakota thought to herself. Must get the gun. The spinning had slowed, but she didn’t yet trust her legs. She could hear the grunts and cries behind her and she didn’t know who was winning, but she knew it wouldn't matter. Whoever had the gun at the end was the winner. She could see it; it had slid under the bed. She lay flat and reached for it, her fingers and arms stretching and stretching before she touched the cold metal, a surprising heft as she pulled the gun towards her. Then it was in her hands and she stood shakily to her feet, and held the gun between her hands. The safety was off and she pointed it to where the two men were still fighting.

 

“Hey!” she said loudly. Adam turned to look at her and the attacker took the opportunity to punch him in the kidney; he cried out and fell on one knee. And then the attacker was advancing on Dakota, marching towards her with no fear at all in regards to the weapon that was pointed at him. Dakota knew that she needed to shoot him, but her hands were shaking. She couldn't find the trigger. She had never even held a gun before, let alone fired one.

 

She forgot how quick Adam was. He stood quickly and, within two steps, was on the attacker. He took one of his strong hands, grabbed the attacker and, with one motion, slammed his head into the solid oak wall. The attacker stood for a moment, dazed, swaying slightly. Adam ripped the ski mask off and slammed his head into the wall again and the man crumpled to the ground.

 

Dakota was frozen in place, the gun still pointing at the man on the ground, even though it had proven useless in her hands. She couldn’t move. All she could do was take heavy, gasping breaths. Her entire body was shaking, tears streaming down her face, but still she couldn’t move. She was staring at the attacker, but had no idea who he was. He was an older man, white, with blond hair, and a lined face, as if he had spent a great deal of time in the sun. But otherwise, he was unrecognizable and nondescript; he could have been one of the hundreds of people Dakota passed on the street every day.

 

“Are you all right?” Adam asked, moving towards her. His voice was soft, and his eyes stayed on hers as he reached out for the gun. Dakota allowed herself to finally look away from the man, but it took all of her will. She was sure that, at any moment, he would spring back to life and attack her again, “It’s all right,” Adam said. “Let me take the gun, all right? I’ll hold it for you.”

 

Dakota nodded, and Adam’s hand gently took the gun from her. Her arms fell to her side once the weapon was taken away from her. It had been so heavy; her arms hurt when she relaxed them. Adam removed the bullets from the gun and cleared any from the chamber, putting the ammo in one pocket and the gun in the other. He grabbed a sash from the curtain and quickly hogtied the unconscious attacker.

 

“Do you know him?” he asked, and Dakota shook her head with a whispered no. Adam’s hands were on her chin, checking the bruise and bump on her forehead. It was only when he was this close that Dakota could see him; the room was so dark that when he wasn’t close, he was just a blur. But now, inches away from her Dakota could see the bruise on the bridge of his nose. She could see the cut and swelling that was forming under his eye. “Are you okay? Did he do anything to you? Did he touch you?” Adam asked.

 

“No,” Dakota said, trying not to cry, trying desperately to keep it together. “He pushed me and I hit my head, then he kicked me,” and then she lost it. The tears she had been holding back tipped over her eyelids and spilled down her face as a sob erupted from her.

 

In a second, Adam had enveloped her in his arms. His arms going around her back, as he whispered comforting words and she heard sirens coming down the lane. “I hit the panic button when I heard you scream,” Adam explained as the noise grew closer and closer.

 

“Thank you,” Dakota whispered into his chest. “You saved my life. I’m so glad you were here.”

 

Adam nodded and ran his hands over her back. “We should go let them in,” he said, finally pulling himself away from her. Dakota nodded, and Adam took her hand and led her out of the room and down the stairs. Red and blue lights were flashing through the window, making the entryway feel like a haunted house.

 

Adam opened the door and put his hands up, shouting to the police that the attacker was upstairs.

 

“Show us,” a grim faced detective ordered as a paramedic took Dakota by the arm and led her out into the street, towards the back of a waiting ambulance.

 

“Wait,” she said, her voice weak. “Adam was hit. He needs to see a doctor.”

 

“Go with them. I’ll be right behind you.”

 

She watched him walk back up the stairs, about ten officers following in his wake until she was pulled away. In the ambulance, they shone a light in her eyes and asked her what year it was.

 

“You probably have a mild concussion. We’ll take you to the hospital to be sure.” Dakota nodded, but her eyes were on the attacker. He was walking now, stumbling a little as police escorted him in handcuffs towards a squad car. For a moment, she couldn't believe it; she was sure that, like a ghost, he would have disappeared in the few seconds they were gone. But there he was, flesh and solid bone, alive for the questioning. Was he her father’s attacker? Was it all over?

 

“Ms. Kane, I’m detective Jennifer Evans. I know you’ve had a difficult night. But I just want to ask you a few quick questions before you go to the hospital. Is she clear for a moment?” the detective asked. She was tall and fit, with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.

 

“A few minutes,” the paramedics answered as Adam was brought up next, the EMTs examining the bruises and cuts on his face.

 

“Can you run me through tonight’s events? I’m just trying to get an idea of what happened,” the detective asked.

 

“Um...” Dakota said, unsure of where to begin. “Adam and I came back from running an errand for the Boys’ Home and it was a nice night, and he wanted a chance to drive this car my dad had. So we went for a drive in the country and it was really nice and relaxing and then we came home. I went upstairs to take a shower,” at this point, Adam turned to look at her, but his expression was unreadable and Dakota was aware that she had just lied to the police. “I went upstairs to take a shower, and then I went to find Adam, to talk to him, and I heard this noise in the back stairwell. I knew I shouldn’t have. I don't know what I was thinking, but I wasn’t really sure that anyone was back there. And then I heard someone cough and I called for Adam and ran, but the guy caught up with me. He hit me and pointed a gun at me. I thought I was going to die and then Adam came in. They fought and he beat him. He saved my life.” Tears were in her eyes again and Dakota wiped them away, annoyed that she couldn’t control them better.

 

She hadn’t told them about being with Adam in the car. She didn’t want that moment to be part of the public record. She didn’t want the police snickering over the idea of Dakota Kane getting fucked by her bodyguard in the back of a car. It was too tawdry; they wouldn’t have understood. She wasn’t embarrassed about being with Adam, but so much of her private life, from her grades in school to who she took to prom, was part of the public record. She wanted to have something she could keep secret, something that was just hers.

 

“And you, Mr. Mendel, what do you remember?” the detective asked, turning to Adam who was having an ice pack placed gingerly on his forehead.

 

“I escorted Ms. Kane back into the house. We had been gone for several hours. I was running a security sweep, but none of the sensors had gone off. Whoever this guy was, he knew how to get into the house without anyone knowing. I was just setting the system for the night when I heard Ms. Kane call out for help. My gun was in the other room, and I didn’t have time to get it. I ran upstairs where I saw the attacker had a gun pointed at Ms. Kane. I pulled him away, we got into a fight, Ms. Kane managed to get the gun, and we subdued him.”

 

“Do either of you recognize that man?”

 

“No,” Dakota and Adam both answered, shaking their heads.

 

“We need to get them both to hospital for tests,” the medic interrupted.

 

“Okay,” Detective Evans answered. “I will be in touch with both of you.”

 

Dakota felt herself being pulled back into the ambulance, “What about Adam?” she asked.

 

“We brought two ambulances, so you each get a private ride,” the EMT answered as Dakota allowed herself to be lowered on the stretcher. She had only intended to close her eyes for a moment, but sleep overtook her anyway.

 

Dakota woke to the gentle sounds of equipment beeping and a spray of roses, red, yellow, and white on a bedside table. She was in the hospital, the same one her father was in. Groggy, she forced her eyes to stay open. She wondered what time it was, how long she had been asleep. Slowly, she turned her head to the right, expecting to see Adam sitting there, watching her as always. But it wasn’t Adam. It was Marley, dressed in a mini skirt and halter-top with that month’s issue of Vogue splayed out on her chest.

 

“Marley,” Dakota called out, her throat felt terribly dry, but she wasn’t in any pain. She had that pleasant numbness that she attributed to an IV running up her left arm. “Marley,” she called again, this time a little louder.

 

“Dakota!” Marley said, waking with a start, the magazine slipping and falling onto the floor. “You’re finally awake. I was so worried.”

 

“Water,” Dakota mumbled, and Marley brought her a glass. Dakota took a sip, feeling the liquid sooth her parched throat. “What time is it? Where’s Adam,” she asked putting the water back down.

 

“It’s like seven in the morning. You’ve been asleep for hours, but you need more rest.”

 

“What about Adam? Is he here?”

 

“Here? No, come on Dakota. You know he couldn’t afford this place; he’s probably being treated at county. But I’m sure he’s fine, just some bumps and bruises. You hit your head badly; you need to get some sleep.”

 

“I should call him,” Dakota mumbled, but sleep sounded so tempting. She was exhausted.

 

“Dakota, for the millionth time, you need to take care of yourself. Go to sleep.”

 

When Dakota woke again, it was late afternoon, and James was there, offering to escort her home. She felt better, ready to go home. She had already spent so much time in that hospital. She had a mild concussion and lots of bruising. The doctors wanted her to rest, but expected a full recovery in a few days. Dressed and ready to leave, Dakota stopped by her father’s room for a briefing from the police. He was awake, although still terribly pale and weak, holding Dakota’s hand in his own.

 

“The man’s name is Michael Martin. He spent ten active years in the military and then moved into private contract work. He worked for your father’s company about five years ago, according to records your lawyer provided. Mr. Kane informed us that things ended with Mr. Martin on good terms, but clearly something else happened,” Detective Evans was explaining everything in a calm and soothing voice, slow and assured. As Dakota listened she stared at the picture of Michael, her attacker, and wondered why he hated her family so much. “He has confessed to today’s attack and hit on your father a few weeks ago.”

 

“Why did he do it?” Dakota asked.

 

“He hasn’t provided a motive yet, but that’s normal. He’s getting a lawyer so he’s probably waiting to see what the district attorney’s office offers. At the moment he’s looking at life. And you don’t remember anything about him, anything that might strengthen our case?” she asked John.

 

“I only remember him vaguely. He was doing some work for us in the city, but I remember we didn’t agree on some of the ideas he had for land development. We parted ways, but I thought, at the time, it was as amicable as it could be,” John answered.

 

“I guess he saw it another way,” the detective said.

 

“Well, I suppose that’s that, then. It seems so strange that it’s over this easily. I thought it would be bigger, but it was just one angry man.”

 

“We will, of course, keep you updated on the situation as it develops. You have my card. Please let me know if you have any questions.”

 

“We should be thankful that everyone survived intact,” James said, smiling at Dakota and her father. “But, Dakota should be getting home, and you, my old friend, need some rest. I’ll see that she gets home all right.”

 

“And shut the gate and set the alarm,” her father said. “And I suppose we don’t need the protection any longer. You must be happy about that, Dakota. I know it was unpleasant for you.”

 

“It wasn’t so bad. I think I was being a little immature. They did a really good job. We should be sure to tell them that.”

 

“I’ll hand it, my dear,” James said. “Let’s get you home.”

 

That night Dakota didn’t go back to the house; she went to her apartment in Center City. It overlooked Rittenhouse Square Park, which was awash in soft light, and she could see children and couples and dogs all playing enjoying the evening air. It reminded Dakota of her night with Adam, their endless drive and the passion that had followed. But she hadn’t heard from him since the accident – no phone calls, no texts, business was over. But she figured it was for the best. They were too different to ever really work. It was a moment of passion she would remember forever, but never experience again.

 

***

 

The check in Adam’s hand was for over six figures. They could pay off the club, own it in full. It was a staggering amount of money, and, yet, James Hastings handed it over as if it were a piece of scrap paper, like the amount bored him. Adam saw that the money wasn’t coming from Hastings. It was from Kane, or one of Kane’s many companies.

 

He and Joey were in the office. It was ten in the morning and the club was silent, only the sound of people cleaning up from the night before. Adam was tired, and still in pain; he had broken his nose, bruised a couple of ribs, and gotten a nice shiner in his fight. His face was still swollen and bruised.

 

“I would like to thank you again for an excellent job,” James said. But he refused to make eye contact with either of them. Instead he looked around him, and occasionally futzed with his suit, removing spots and lint visible only to him. “I will, of course, be happy to recommend your services to anyone who may ask.”

 

“Thanks,” Joey said. “And thanks for the business. I’m glad we caught the guy.”

 

“Indeed,” James said. “So, seeing as how your business is finished, there is no need for you to contact the Kane family again. We’ve changed all of the passwords and restricted the security access you had at the house, all normal procedures, nothing personal, you understand.”

 

“Of course.”

 

“And I have to ask that you delete any personal information you may have, cell phones numbers and such, for the Kane family. It would be a shame if those got out. They are terribly private people.”

 

Adam didn’t know what he was waiting for until he heard it. When he had left the hospital, he had tried to check in on Dakota, but had been blocked at every turn. He had checked out of county and had Joey drive him to the private hospital where Dakota was, but he wasn’t family and he wasn’t permitted inside. It was James Hastings who had found him, told him Dakota was well, but not up for visitors and sent him on his way.

 

And then there it was, delete the phone numbers, end all contact. Dakota had used her father’s friend to end things. And, yet, Adam couldn’t blame her. He should have never touched her, never slept with her. He had been hired to protect her. She was a vulnerable woman who had just seen her father almost killed. She had been in a vulnerable place when Adam had met her; he should never have expected to have a long-term romance with her. Besides, what could he offer a girl like Dakota Kane?

 

“I’m taking this to the bank, now!” Joey said the second James left. “Want to come?”

 

“No, you go ahead. I think I might just go home and get some sleep.”

 

“Yeah, I guess it would have been better to get this money without your face turning into hamburger meat, but beggars can’t be choosers, you know?”

 

***

 

The door closed behind Joey and Adam took out his phone and one by one deleted the contacts for the Kane contract. He started with James Hastings and then the security company and went all the way through to the Kane Home for Boys. Then all that was left was Dakota’s number, his hand hovering over the delete button, but then it wouldn’t move.

 

Maybe Adam wasn’t done with Dakota, maybe the dust would clear and they would see each other again. Yeah, and then what? He asked himself. He thought back to their late night drive, and what had happened afterward as he debated whether or not to delete Dakota Kane from his life.

 

Dakota sat at her desk in the Kane Home for Young Boys, the annual report sitting finished in front of her. She was chewing on her lower lip, something her mother had always chastised for her, a bad habit Dakota had never been able to break. She thought working on the report would have taken more of her time, but it had been done quickly and now she found herself with nothing to do but sit and think about Adam Mendel.

 

She hadn’t heard from him in the two weeks since the attack. The bump on the right side her head, from where she had been slammed into a wall, had gone down; and her headaches were gone, but she still felt shaky on her feet. When Dakota had been released from the hospital, James Hastings had informed her that he had arranged for payment to Scarred Angels and ended the contract. Just like that, Adam, who had become this permanent feature in her life, was gone. She had gotten too used to him always being around, being a strong, silent figure in her vision’s periphery, always available to her. She found herself missing him more than she ever thought she would.

 

They still had their one night in the car, and she couldn’t help but smile and shake her head at the memory. She still couldn’t quite believe that she had actually done that, had sex with her biker bodyguard in the backseat of her father’s car. It was almost too scandalous to believe. Every day Dakota checked the gossip section to see if anyone was talking about her relationship with Adam, but nothing ever showed up. He hadn’t told anyone and neither had she.

 

Dakota had tried to call Adam. Well, she had pulled his number up in her phone and looked at it before changing her mind and deciding not to call. She had been a job to Adam, a job with a nice perk, but a job nonetheless. He clearly didn’t want anything to do with her anymore, not since the checks had stopped. It was her worst fear, but she still didn’t have it in her to blame him. They had one crazy night together and that had to be enough.

 

“Are you still here?” Elizabeth asked, walking into the office. “I was just grabbing my stuff to leave. Please tell me we’re not taking another look at the report.”

 

“No,” Dakota said with a smile, turning off her computer, “I’m just sitting around, idling.”

 

“Is everything all right?” Elizabeth asked. “I heard about what happened, are you okay, going home, do you want me to come with you, or is there anything I can do?”

 

“No, thank you,” Dakota said. She had been staying at her apartment in the city since they had caught the man who had attacked her and her father. She had been back to the Kane Mansion a few times since, getting it ready for her father to come home, hiring a live-in housekeeper and a nurse. But still, without Adam, she felt unsafe in that big house with its endless hallways and dark corner, sand she hadn’t been there after dark since.

 

Slowly Dakota rose and gathered her belongings, pulling on a light coat and grabbing her purse. Saying goodnight to Elizabeth, Dakota stepped out into the cool night air. The small parking lot for the Kane Home for Young Boys was almost empty, only Elizabeth, Dakota, and the small night shift had cars parked there, but was well lit by street lamps. Still, it was late and dark and Dakota was alone, so she hurried to her car, pulling her keys out as she walked. Then she saw a flash to her right. She turned to glance over her shoulder. On the other side of the street a man stood, leaning against a car, lazily smoking a cigarette. It looked like he was watching her, his head following her progress across the parking lot.

 

Dakota quickly unlocked her car, got in, checked the back seat, and locked the doors. Taking a deep breath, she looked back at the man leaning against the car. He was still there with his eyes on the ground, a cigarette dangling from his lips. Still watching the strange man, Dakota started the ignition, but he didn’t move as she began to pull out of the lot. She looked in her rear-view mirror, but the smoking man stayed put, waiting by his car. As she drove down Broad Street and toward her apartment she forced herself to calm down. The attacker had been caught and put in jail, no one was after her, and she was finally safe. Still, though, she couldn’t stop checking her mirrors, seeing dangers all around her.

 

“Did you call him yet?” Marley asked as Dakota let her into her apartment later that night.

 

“No, and I’m not going to. It was a work thing. That’s all and nothing else,” Dakota said as Marley followed her into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. Dakota couldn't help but look around. Did anything look odd or out of place? Was there a man hiding in her closet waiting to attack her, and who would save her if there were? She didn’t know how to tell anyone how alone she felt. She couldn’t burden her father. He was just starting to get better and Marley would only tell her to call Adam. Dakota had never felt like this before. She had never been the type of girl who needed a boyfriend or someone else around. She had never minded solitude until now.

 

“Come on, you tell me about this crazy-hot sex you have with this guy, he saves your life, and that’s it? It’s just over?”

 

“Apparently,” Dakota answered. “He hasn’t called me, Marley. We haven't had any communication. I think if he wanted to be with me he would have called me. But he hasn’t.”

 

“So you call him. This why all those feminists had all those parades: so we could have the right to call hot guys instead of waiting for them to call us.”

 

“I can’t even begin to talk about how wrong you are,” Dakota said, shaking her head.

 

“I’m just saying, it’s a new century. You can call him.”

 

“I can, but I’m not going to. He was working for me. It’s weird and awkward, and so we should just let it go. And that means you, too. No calling him. I know you stole his number from my phone.” He doesn’t want to be with me, Dakota thought. The thought sent daggers through her heart. Adam Mendel was the first man in a long time that she had opened up to and what did she have to show for it? Nothing but a broken heart. Every time her phone rang or she got a text, a small part of her hoped that it was him and every time it wasn't, it felt like that small part of her was dying.

 

“Fine, as long as we go out tonight after this dinner for the senator and go find some cute boys we can talk to.”

 

“Deal,” Dakota said, grabbing her purse, and leading the way.

 

The fundraiser was one of the most boring Dakota had ever been to. Her father had bought two tickets month ago, but he was still in the hospital and asked Dakota to take his place. She and Marley were the youngest people there by about fifteen years. Sitting at a table with four other people, including the senator and his wife wasn't exactly relaxing. The senator kept smiling at Dakota and asking about her father while his wife threw dangerous looks at Marley and her low-cut dress.

 

“Education and tax reform, these are the foundations of my new platform in my run for senate, and I know, that with your help, I can make this state run better than it ever has before,” the senator was saying to an old woman at his elbow.

 

“Did that make any sense to you?” Dakota whispered to Marley.

 

“Please, I stopped listening after the salad course,” Marley answered, taking a deep drink from her glass. “Can we please leave?”

 

“Not yet. We have to stay at least through the dinner.”

 

“Boo,” Marley said, allowing a frown to settle on her face while she lifted her glass for another drink. “You know, after this, we could go to Scarred Angels.”

 

“No.”. Scarred Angels, she wondered if Adam was there now. She wondered if there was someone like Marley there, some girl in a low-cut top throwing herself at Adam. Not that I care, she thought to herself, he can spend his time with whomever he wants. He made his money with me, now he’s free to spend it. Determined to not give Adam Mendel another second of her mental time. Dakota focused on the man in front of her, the senator her father was supporting, trying to think of anything other than Adam's hands on some other girl.

 

As soon as dessert was over, Marley and Dakota beat a hasty exit, thanking the senator and his scowling wife, wishing them luck in the upcoming election. Since Dakota refused to go to Scarred Angels, they settled on a wine bar downtown. It was a Friday night at eleven o’clock; the bar was crowded with friends and strangers. Everyone was drinking and having a good time – everyone but Dakota. She smiled, and laughed, and talked, but none of what anyone said connected with her. It all felt so empty and pointless.

 

“Dakota, oh my God, I can’t believe you were attacked. Are you okay? That is so crazy. I still can’t believe it.” It was her old friend from high school, Theresa, who was drinking with three guys Dakota had never met before. “My dad told me to ask who your bodyguard was, said he might want to hire him. Was it really a biker?”

 

“Um yeah, it’s through that club Scarred Angels,” Dakota answered, this being the last thing she wanted to talk about. She didn’t think she could handle seeing Adam with Theresa, opening doors for her, driving her around, watching her every movement. Would he sleep with her, too? No, Dakota was pretty sure that having to experience that would drive her mad; she would have to leave the state if it happened. She couldn't handle the idea of Adam guarding someone she knew.

 

“Cool, a biker bodyguard, very unique. I prefer ex-military for protection, of course," one of the guys said, “I’m Chad, by the way. It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about your father.”

 

Dakota forced a smile onto her face and reached out to shake Chad’s hand. He enveloped her hand with his, but his hand was soft and his handshake weak. Dakota frowned as she watched Chad’s eyes travel up and down her body like she was a piece up for auction.

 

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

 

Dakota looked at the man in front of her, but boy would have been the better word choice. He was dressed head to toe in Brooke’s Brothers and there was no grease under his fingernails. It looked like he had never lifted anything heavier than five pounds in his life. And after the way he had just looked at her the last thing she wanted was a drink from him. “No, but thanks. I think I’m going to call it a night,” Dakota said, slipping away from him and into the crowd.

 

“What’s wrong with you? Chad’s cute,” Marley said grabbing Dakota and pulling her aside.

 

“He’s not really my type.”

 

“And who is your type? Hot biker’s that work for you?” Marley countered.

 

“Stop it,” Dakota said.

 

“I think you’re into the bodyguard. I think you’re really into him, like you might love him.”

 

“It was one night, a one-time thing,” Dakota said. “Drop it, I’m not into him, and I’m not calling him, and Chad is gross. I can do better than that.”

 

“Fine,” Marley said. “But I think it’s crazy you’re letting pride get in the way. Why does it matter if he calls you or you call him? You clearly have feelings for him.”

 

“He was working for me, he was doing a job, the job is over now, and I have to let it go,” Dakota said, grabbing her purse and heading out the door. “Have fun tonight, but I’m tired, so I’m just going to go home and go to bed.”

 

She stepped out into the busy city streets before Marley could say another word. But once she was out, she didn’t feel like returning to her empty apartment. But in truth, she had nowhere else to go, so she slowly walked home, occasionally looking back to make sure no one was following her.

 

It was late when Dakota finally got home. Sighing, she looked out the window to the beautiful view of the city her apartment provided. It was late. She should have been tired, but instead she was wide-awake with nothing to do. I could take a drive, she thought to herself with a sad smile. But she knew it wasn’t the drive she had liked that night a few weeks ago; it had been the company.

 

Dakota slipped out of her strapless black dress and put on a pair of comfortable pajamas. In her darkened bedroom she fell into bed, snuggling in between her sheets. She realized that she and Adam had never had the chance to lie in bed together. They had made love in a car and then been interrupted by a man who had tried to kill her. She had almost forgotten that she had been going to find Adam to ask him to join her in bed when the attack happened. She wondered what it would feel like to have him next to her, his arms wrapped around her. She wondered what it would be like to have a boyfriend who drove himself around, who did repairs around the house, who rode a Harley to his club instead of taking a black car to the office. A guy who would just drive the night away with her.

 

Stop it, she said to herself. You’re not going to call him, so stop fantasizing about it. She sighed heavily and rolled over onto her back. She hadn’t been sleeping well, she kept hearing what she thought were footsteps or doors opening and closing and she had to remind herself that it was just other people in the building. There was nothing to be afraid of, her attacker was in jail, and life could finally go back to being normal.

 

Running a club was never boring, and Adam was thankful for that. He had never wanted a job where he spent all of his time sitting on his ass in front of a computer. He had never wanted to have to go to endless meetings in conference rooms or wear a suit every day. He loved the club, but it was still a job and there were parts he didn’t like. Emptying out the club after closing was one of them.

 

Per city laws, they couldn’t serve alcohol after two in the morning. No alcohol meant no money; last call was at one thirty, and at two the lights came on and the music was turned down. There were always those people who would boo and yell for the lights to be turned down and the music up, people begging to keep the party going. While Adam appreciated that there were people who didn’t want to leave, the law was the law. As people finished their drinks and made their way out into the night, the club slowly emptied. At three o’clock, the bright lights came on and the music turned off; this was the cue for all the bouncers to start sweeping the club. Kids making out in the booths, passed out in the bathrooms, smoking weed in back corners, group by group, they were found and sent out into the night.

 

For certain people, though, the rules were different; Andre Nichols was one of those people. Even though the club was emptying out, fresh drinks were still appearing at his table where he was drinking with two other men and four women. Andre was tall and strong, he and Adam went to the same gym, his dark skin shone under the bright lights, and he smiled when Adam approached him.

 

“Good night?” Andre asked.

 

“Couldn’t ask for better,” Adam answered.

 

“Not that it matters, I heard about you saving that Kane girl’s life, heard her father appreciated it in a monetary way.”

 

“Business was good,” was Adam’s only reply.

 

“Moses,” Andre said to one of the men at the table, “take these ladies to the car. I’ll be there momentarily.”

 

“You got it, boss,” Moses said, leading the group away.

 

“Take a seat, Adam,” Andre said. “I might have something for you.”

 

Adam sat across from Andre. His face had almost entirely recovered from the fight with Dakota’s attacker. The bruise under his eye was gone and he had finally been allowed to take the bandage off his nose; but he still hurt. His cracked ribs made it impossible to do anything too physical and he still winced if anything touched his face, but he knew those were temporary. He was ready to get back to work, to hit the gym, ride his bike, and forget about Dakota Kane.

 

“It’s about the Kane family,” Andre said.

 

Adam sighed and said, “I don’t work for the Kanes anymore.”

 

“I know. You did your job, made your money, and got out. Everything looks normal, the whole problem wrapped up in a little bow. You were very smart. You did everything right.”

 

“But,” Adam offered.

 

“But, what I hear, it’s more complicated than that.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, the Kanes may not be out of the woods, so to speak. There’s something else going on, people are rumbling and making noise. That guy they caught, Michael Martin, he wasn’t working alone.”

 

“Police say he was.”

 

“Give them enough money and the police will say whatever you want them to.”

 

“So, who is he working with? What’s the plan now?”

 

“Information, like drinks and this club, are not free, my friend.” Andre said, leaning back in his chair. This is what Andre did: information. He knew everyone in the city; he knew who moved and sold what. He was part of a major drug operation and Scarred Angels was his favorite club. He drank there even though dealing had been forbidden within its walls.

 

“The Kane contract ended. Why would I pay you for information if they aren’t paying me anymore?” Adam asked.

 

“Because contracts can be picked back up. There is still money to make, my friend, if you want to make it. But you ain’t the only person in the city with a protection racket. If you have no need for my intel, I can take it somewhere else.”

 

“What do you have and what do you want for it?”

 

“I’ll make you a deal, Mendel; you let me bring some boys in here at night, move some stuff around, give you a cut, I’ll tell you for free.”

 

“No,” Adam said, staring straight into Andre’s bright eyes. “Never.” Adam knew that some drugs moved through Scarred Angels; they did the best they could to curb it, but people were smart. Small bags of Molly, X, and weed were always going to be snuck in. But he could never permit someone to actively move large quantities through Scarred Angels. It would get the club shut down and land his men in jail. Adam had worked too hard to make this club a legitimate enterprise. He wasn’t willing to throw all that away.

 

“A grand then,” Andre said, looking away as if he were bored with the conversation.

 

“A grand for what? Do you have anything concrete?”

 

“Nothing concrete in my world, but we both know that when Scarred Angels went legit someone was going to fill that hole you left behind. Just because you’ve stopped escorting drugs and picking up boys for the mob doesn’t mean no one is moving drugs or doing hits for hire anymore. You go straight and there’s ten groups behind you ready to pick up the slack.”

 

“I’m not giving you a grand for something I already know. Who is it?” Adam said. His jaw was set. He was staring at Andre with an intensity that unnerved the other man.

 

“Soul Stealers,” Andre said.

 

Adam made a face at him, dismissing the notion, “The Soul Stealers are half a dozen guys on shitty bikes. You’re telling me they’re going after the Kanes?”

 

“The Soul Stealers were a bunch of dumb kids, and then somebody hired them and gave them a lot of money to do a certain thing. They did it badly, but promised they would fix the problem, but their fix didn’t work either. But they got their money, and there are a lot more of them now and they aren’t giving up. They’ve promised their new employer they can get the job done. Plus, the Kanes think they’re in the clear. They got the security at the castle up and running, but no bodyguards.”

 

“How can you be sure about this?” Adam asked feeling sick. ”They failed twice. Who would still be paying them to kill somebody?”

 

“Can’t be sure about anything, but I do know there are a lot more Soul Stealers than there used to be, and they have money. Whoever hired them thinks they’re an investment, a work in progress. They’ve been buying from us, drugs and guns. They aren’t small time anymore, and don’t ask me who told me about the Kane job; you know I can’t tell you that.”

 

“They have the guy who did it is in jail. I caught him myself and he hasn’t said anything about the Soul Stealers.”

 

“They may have been a chickenshit operation, but they ain’t fucking around anymore, Adam. That guy wasn’t smart enough to get away with it, but he is smart enough to watch his mouth. He’s not telling anyone about the Soul Stealers. He’s not safe in jail; they can find him there and he knows it. Just because he ain’t talking doesn’t mean he doesn’t have anything to say.”

 

“Who hired them?” Adam asked. “Who’s funding the Soul Stealers? Who’s trying to kill the Kanes? Who’s pulling the strings and who’s providing the money?”

 

“That, I do not know,” Andre answered.

 

“And you have no proof, and you can’t tell me who you got this info from,” Adam said.

 

“I told you the truth, Mendel. You can do with it what you will, but I want my money.”

 

Adam sighed and nodded. Even if Andre were wrong, which he probably was, he was a good ally to have. “I’ll give you five hundred. You tell me who hired the Soul Stealers and you’ll get the other five. I’ll meet you by the door,” Adam said, getting up and walking away. Five hundred dollars was a lot of money for something that technically didn’t concern Adam anymore. But it was important that a job not just be done, but be done well. Plus, it was Dakota, even if Adam weren’t being paid to protect her, that didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to.

 

Could it be true, the Soul Stealers turning into a real presence in the city? Scarred Angels had encountered the Soul Stealers a few times. The most memorable occurrence was when the Stealers had messed up a job, leaving drugs and bodies in places they weren’t meant to be. Scarred Angels had been hired to come in and clean up their mess. The Soul Stealers were a joke. Half of them were too old school to function in the new digital world where it was so easy to be traced, and the other half was reckless kids who couldn’t think ahead. Most clubs had heritage and history; older members taught and mentored the next generation. The Soul Stealers was starting from scratch, maybe they had worked out their growing pains. Money made everything easier and if the Soul Stealers had a backer, that would change the game significantly.

 

Adam took five hundred of his own dollars from the safe and clipped them together, slipping the large wad of bills into his back pocket and heading back down to meet Andre. Who would have hired the Soul Stealers? Who wanted John Kane dead? In his research on the Kanes, Adam had learned that John Kane was the definition of an upstanding citizen. He never took bribes, or pushed his weight around; he did everything above board and to the letter of the law and demanded everyone in his organization do the same. John had taught a course on business ethics at UPenn; he practiced what he preached. Adam thought it impossible that he could have made an enemy this focused on killing him.

 

Still, it all had to come back to money; it had to. Dakota was his sole heir and if anything happened to her, the money was split between relatives and charities. Adam and the police had ruled out any of the heirs as having a probable cause to murder. Kane took care of his family, not that there were many of them. If they needed money, which none of them did, they just had to ask. That was the whole problem with this Kane business: there was no motive, no reason for anyone to want to hurt him or Dakota. The idea of a lone crazed gunman had made the most sense, until Andre had mentioned the Soul Stealers.

 

Andre was waiting at the door and Adam discreetly slipped him the money. “You let me know if hear anything new,” Adam said. Andre gave a nod and left, the club was officially empty. The bartenders were closing up, bar backs and servers were cleaning up overturned drinks and empty shot glasses. A cleaning crew would come in a few hours and give the place a good once over and they would start the whole thing all over again tomorrow.

 

Adam wondered where Dakota was at that moment. He had done as James Hastings had asked; he had no contact with Dakota since her attack. He hadn’t gone to the mansion, hadn’t driven past the front gate, and he hadn’t been anywhere near her apartment or the Kane Home. But he hadn’t deleted her number. He hadn’t forgotten her soft hands, or the feel of her lithe body on top of him, he vividly remembered the taste of her, and how it felt to be inside of her. A dozen women had hit him on that night, all of them young and beautiful, some of them rich, but none of them were Dakota. They all paled in comparison with her; nothing any of them did had any effect on Adam. They danced, downed shots, touched his leg, played with their hair, and he had just stared and wondered what was wrong with him.

 

You love her, a voice in his head offered, but Adam shook that away. He had only spent a few weeks with her and she hated him for most of that time. He had been her employee, not her friend or her boyfriend, just a body that followed her around. Until he wasn’t. Until that night drive when Adam had touched that stray hair on her cheek; he had no idea what would follow. There had only been the desperate need to touch her, to prove to himself that she was a real flesh and blood woman, not just some mirage set on tricking him. She was kind, and smart, and beautiful, and he had been alone with her and wanted her. He never would have guessed that she wanted him back, until she did.

 

But he hadn’t heard from her. No phone calls or texts, and he had been instructed not to contact her. Dakota Kane could have any man she wanted; Adam had just been a booty call for her – a stress reliever, a fun romp in her daddy’s car with a biker, nothing more. He had been a one-time thing and she had probably forgotten all about him already.

 

So what was he supposed to do with this information, if it was even accurate? Who should he call? James Hastings was the obvious person, but Adam hated working through proxy. The police? They had a suspect in custody, they were still patting themselves on the back for catching Kane’s attacker (even though Adam had done most of the work), and he doubted they had any interest in re-opening their case. It would be a media frenzy and Adam had no proof, nothing but the word of a well-connected dealer.

 

Dakota’s number was still in his phone. But he had promised to end all contact with the Kanes. He was supposed to delete their info from his life. She was so close, but felt incredibly far away. He wanted to talk to her face to face, to laugh with her, to touch her...No, he stopped himself, no more of this self-pitying nonsense, either shit, or get off the pot. That’s what his uncle had always told him. Indecision was nothing more than a slow death.

 

“So, it should be down this alley, and then we’ll see and elevator, take that all the way to the top and then...secret rooftop party!” Marley said, pulling Dakota out of the cab and out into the street.

 

Dakota looked around at her surroundings. It was dark, there were few cars on the road and a lot of trash on the streets, but almost no people. It seemed too quiet and out of the way for a “rager on the roof.” “Are you sure this is the right spot?” Dakota asked. “This place is kind of skeevy, and shouldn't there be more people around?”

 

“It’s a secret rooftop party, Dakota. Obviously, no one is going to be standing around waving a directional sign.”

 

“I don’t know. This doesn’t feel right...” Dakota said, looking around her.

 

“Is it maybe because we’re near Scarred Angels and you’re worried that you’re going to run into a certain somebody?” Marley asked as she led the way down a back alley lined with locked dumpsters.

 

“No, it’s because we have no idea what’s waiting for us up there. You got a text from a guy you used to buy weed from telling you there was a party here. I mean, it could be anything.”

 

“Oh come on, Dakota. You said the same thing when we went to that private beach in Nantucket and how much fun did we have that day?”

 

It was true; Marley always knew where the best parties were – parties without a guest list, where people showed up and had fun until the police told them all to go home. Since she had known Marley, Dakota had been to secret beach parties, lake parties, garage parties and even if they hadn’t been all that was promised, they almost always had a good time. So she followed Marley down the alley, trusting the vague instructions they had been given.

 

They found the service elevator and keyed in the code Marley had been given. The elevator was slow and noisy as it made its way down to them, and when it arrived there was still no one else around and so the two women boarded it alone. Once inside Dakota and Marley closed the gate and the door and hit the button for the roof, and they slowly began to climb up.

 

Dakota was waiting for the sound of thumping club music, of people talking and laughing. She waited for the smell of weed, beer, and liquor that were the marks of any good party. But all she heard was the clank of the elevator and the only smell was the lingering odor of gasoline. She looked over at Marley and was surprised to see a look of concern on her face.

 

“It is kind of quiet,” Marley admitted.

 

“It’s too quiet,” Dakota agreed as her heart began to pound. The large elevator suddenly felt very small as Dakota began to gasp for breath, and she had trouble swallowing. “I want to get out of this elevator. I’m feeling kind of claustrophobic,” Dakota said.

 

“Oh, babe. I’m so sorry,” Marley said, coming over to Dakota and gently rubbing her arm. “Maybe this was a bad idea, but look we’re almost there. If it sucks we can turn right around. I promise.”

 

The elevator moved inch by inch up the building, painfully slow. It shuddered and jerked between floors, and metal squealed against metal as they kept going up. Finally they watched as the numbers climbed as high as they could possibly go and then the R button lit up. As the elevator stopped the girls both pried and pulled on the gates, desperate to get out and, finally, as the doors opened onto the roof, the girls saw nothing.

 

“There’s no one here,” Dakota said, taking a step outside of the elevator. The roof was empty. It was a parking lot during the day, but there were no cars there now. Streetlights were lit illuminating the white lines painted on the pavement, but there was no one there. No partygoers, no DJ’s, no club kids. There was nothing.

 

“Dakota, come back inside. You were right, something is wrong. We shouldn’t be here,” Marley said, reaching out and grabbing Dakota, pulling her back in the elevator. Once inside they closed the doors and hit the button for the first floor, and then nothing happened. The elevator didn’t move.

 

“Shit,” Marley said and there was a note of panic in her voice.

 

“It’s fine, Marley. We’ll just take the stairs,” Dakota said, pulling the doors open again. But still no one was there. “You must have gotten some bad intel. Maybe they got shut down before they even started.”

 

“Yeah, maybe,” Marley said, stepping out onto the roof. “The stairs are over there. Let’s get out here. This place is giving me the creeps.”

 

Their shoes were impossibly loud on the hard cement. The sound of heels clicking echoed in the silence around them making both girls wince at the noise. They hurried to the door, and pushed on the bar, but it wouldn’t budge.

 

“It’s locked?” Marley asked. “Why would it be locked?”

 

“It’s locked and the elevator doesn’t work. We’re stuck up here,” Dakota said, pushing on the door a few more times, hoping something would give. “What do we do now?”

 

“Maybe there’s a fire escape we can take down?” Marley offered. “Or maybe we could call someone...”

 

“Yes, I can see the headlines now: Heiress trapped on roof, needs police rescue” Dakota said, throwing her hands up. “Let’s try and see if there’s a fire escape.” They walked around the edge of the roof. There was no fire escape, but there was the ramp that cars used to get in and out. But the ramp led deeper into the structure and, worse, it was dark down in the building, the thin lights only illuminating a small section beneath the lamps themselves.

 

“I guess this is the only way out,” Marley said, looking down into the darkness.

 

“Flashlight app,” Dakota said, pulling on her phone and shining the light on the ground in front of her as Marley did the same. “We are not afraid of the dark. We are two adult women who can handle this.”

 

“Yes,” Marley agreed, taking Dakota’s hand in hers and together they walked down the ramp, into the darkness. They walked for a few feet and heard nothing, and like all dark and scary places, once they were inside of it, it wasn’t so bad. There were a few cars, and even better, bright red exit signs to guide their path. And then they heard it, footsteps, soft footsteps walking on the ramp behind them.

 

“Someone else is up here!” Dakota whispered, grabbing Marley and pulling her down behind a cement partition.

 

“Maybe it’s someone else who came for the party.”

 

“Marley, there is no party. No one is here.”

 

“Well, someone else is here. What are we going to do? Let’s call the cops.”

 

“And tell them what? That we’re trespassing and then it got scary?!”

 

“Fine, then let’s call Adam.”

 

“No,” Dakota said.

 

“Dakota please. Someone else is here. This is officially scary. I think someone lured us here. Please just call him, Scarred Angels isn’t far away.”

 

Dakota opened her mouth to say something, she was going to protest more, say they didn’t need him. And then, the clear sound of a bullet leaving a gun filled the air around them. The sound was so loud and jarring that it destroyed the silence and the two women jumped and then held each other, both frozen still as their baser fight or flight instincts kicked in.

 

“Oh my God, it is a trap,” Marley whispered, her voice so quiet even Dakota who was less than a foot away, could barely hear her. “They have a gun. They’re trying to kill us.”

 

It had been a strange night at the club. It was only eleven thirty and they had already broken up four fights in the line outside and three in the club itself. Adam wondered if there was a full moon out. It happened like this sometimes; there would be string of easy nights and then one where everyone seemed to lose their minds. Up in the office Adam stared through a one-way glass at the revelers below. Everything was okay at the moment, the DJ had been instructed to play some lighter fare, and it was helping, people were dancing more and fighting less.

 

He heard his phone buzzing from his desk and sighed. He was tired and his ribs hurt; he wanted to go home. But Adam knew he could never ignore a ringing phone so we slowly went over and lifted the buzzing phone from his desk, and then almost dropped it.

 

Dakota Kane, the phone told him. Dakota Kane was calling him at eleven thirty on a Saturday night. His heart stopped in his chest and he felt nauseous. The last time a girl calling him had stressed him out this much he had been a clueless high schooler. He took a deep breath and picked up the phone, clearing his throat as he waiting for whatever came next.

 

“Adam?” Dakota’s voice was a terrified whisper.

 

“Dakota, where are you?”

 

“I’m in a parking garage, about six blocks from you, 115 North Delaware Ave. Adam please, can you come and get us? There was supposed to be a party, but now someone’s here with a gun,” she stopped when her voice broke into a sob.

 

“I’m coming. Don’t move. Stay down and make sure whoever is there doesn’t see the light from your phone.” Adam’s movements were confident and assured. He keyed in the code to the gun locker and opened the door. He grabbed two shotguns, a box of ammo, two bright flashlights and locked the door. “Where exactly in the building are you?”

 

“We went up to the roof in the elevator and then when we went to go back down it didn’t work. So we started walking down the ramp, but we only got down one floor before we heard someone behind us, and there was a gun blast and I didn’t know who else to call.”

 

“You did the right thing. Who’s with you?”

 

“Marley.”

 

“Do you have any mace or a gun?”

 

“No,”

 

Just then, the door opened and Joey walked into the office. He took a step back when he saw the guns on the table in front of Adam. “What the hell, man?” he asked.

 

“Dakota and her friend are six blocks away. Someone’s trapped them on the roof of the garage. Whoever it is has a gun. I need to go and get her.”

 

“Then I’m coming, too,” Joey said, picking up the shotgun and loading it.

 

Adam nodded, grateful for the help, and knowing that he never needed to say so. Both men slipped the guns under their jackets and raced down the stairs and out into the night.

 

“Dakota,” Adam said into his phone. “I’m getting on my bike, so I won’t be able to hear you, but it won’t take me longer than three minutes to get to the garage. Just stay on the line, okay?”

 

“Okay,” Dakota whispered.

 

“I’ll be there so soon. Just stay hidden and silent. If you try to sneak out, he’ll see you. Right now the best thing to do is stay silent and still and we’ll get there before he finds you.” Adam’s heart was pounding in his chest and his hands were shaking. But he refused to be slowed down; he put the still active phone in his pocket and straddled his bike, revving the engine and taking off with Joey right behind him.

 

The beauty of motorcycles is they don’t need roads. Adam knew exactly where Dakota was and he worked out the quickest way to get there. Jumping curbs, cutting through parking lots, riding down the sidewalk, Adam and Joey were at the lot in under three minutes.

 

“Are you still there?” Adam asked into the phone. Three minutes had felt like an eternity. He couldn't hear Dakota over the roar of his bike and in those three minutes Adam had envisioned every awful and terrible thing that could happen to two women cornered by a man with a gun. In his mind, he had seen Dakota die a thousand times in those three minutes; he had watched himself be unable to save her. He had lived through her death a thousand times in those three minutes, and now that he was here, he was going to protect her, no matter what.

 

“Still here,” she whispered. “I don’t know where the guy with the gun is. We haven't heard anything. Maybe we should try to keep going-”

 

“No!” Adam cut her off. “He’s couldn’t find you, so now he’s waiting for you to make a move, so don’t. I’m here. I’m on my way. Stay hidden.”

 

“Stairs!” Joey called out and Adam ran over to the emergency exit, which was locked from the outside.

 

“Kick it in,” Adam said and, without hesitation, Joey brought up his strong leg and kicked at the door. The metal squealed as it was pushed and bent. Joey kicked it again, and the door rattled. He kicked it a third time and the lock broke, the door swinging open to welcome them.

 

Armed with shotguns and bright lanterns, the two men raced up the stairs, taking the steps two at the time. Adam felt his chest begin to scream out in pain as his tightly-wrapped ribs were stretched. But he used that pain as fuel to push himself forward. Every stab of pain was more fuel to his legs, pushing him farther and farther up the stairs.

 

Breathing heavily, the two men came to the sixth floor, where they suspected Marley and Dakota were hiding. Their guns were armed, but put away; instead they both pulled out their flashlights. Silently, Adam held up one finger, then two, and then three, before slamming open the door and flooding the garage with bright lights.

 

“Head’s up! Scarred Angels is here, so I suggest you start running!” Joey yelled into the garage, his voice echoing around them. The two men ran out into the darkness their lights illuminating cars and cement pillars.

 

“This doesn’t end well if we find you,” Adam added, sweeping his light around the lot. Come out, Adam thought to himself. Come out so I can question you myself. No lawyers, no cops, just me, him and a basement where no one can hear him. Footsteps, someone running, but just one person. Adam and Joey both ran towards the sound, but they knew they were too late as they heard the door on the other side open and slam close.

 

“Go,” Adam ordered and Joey took off, running after the gunman, following him down the stairs.

 

As Joey’s footsteps receded into the distance, Adam continued to look around the garage, his senses on full alert. The bright light in his hand flowed over cars, revealing every dent and crack, but no movement. Was the gunman alone? Was he gone? Adam waited one full minute, but still no one appeared, still there was no movement.

 

“Dakota,” Adam said clearly, his voice carrying over the garage. “Come out slowly.” He saw her to his left, her hands appearing first and then her head as she stood. Her phone was in her hand, the call still active and he watched as she ended it. She was alive, she was alive and unharmed; she looked pale and scared, but alive.

 

Adam didn’t let his guard down. He continued to sweep the garage with his light, waiting to see if another killer was hiding somewhere. Slowly Dakota and Marley made their way over to him. Adam met them halfway, taking Dakota by the arm, and putting Marley first, he led them to the stairway. Dakota’s arm was shaking in his hand – her whole body was shaking – and he could hear Marley crying softly.

 

“It’s all right,” he said quietly as they continued down the stairs. “I think there was just one of them.”

 

“One of whom?” Marley asked.

 

“Soul Stealers,” Adam said, but he offered no other explanation.

 

They finally emerged out of the broken door and into the night. The streets around them were silent, no cars, the only person they could see was Joey, jogging over to them.

 

“Well?” Adam asked, his hand still holding Dakota’s arm.

 

“Gone, out the door into an old car. Looked like 2010 Honda to me, green in color, too dark to get the plates.”

 

“Did you get a look at him?”

 

“Short guy, young, brown hair, but I didn’t get a good look at his face. He was fast, I’ll tell you that.”

 

“What were you two doing here?” Adam asked, turning to face the two women, both pale and afraid with tear tracks down their cheeks.

 

“It’s my fault,” Marley blurted out. “This guy I knew, or thought I knew, told me about this party. Dakota didn’t even want to come, but I didn’t think anything bad would happen. I’m so sorry,” she stopped as she broke down into sobs, her small body shaking as her hands came up to hide her face.

 

“Don’t cry, Marley,” Dakota said, taking her in a hug. “No one had any idea this would happen. It was totally crazy.”

 

“We should go talk to Detective Evans,” Adam said. “Something is still going on with your family. I don’t think we’re past the danger yet.”

 

“Wait,” Dakota said, “are we sure about this?” Everyone turned and stared at her and Dakota felt compelled to continue. “I mean, maybe that guy wasn’t going to hurt us. He could have just been another person who came expecting a party.”

 

“Are you kidding me?” Adam yelled, throwing up his hands, his voice echoing off the buildings around them.

 

“Calm down,” Joey said. “You guys said you came here for a party. Who told you about it?”

 

“This guy I used to know DMd me on Twitter,” Marley answered.

 

“Are you sure that was really him? You can impersonate anyone on Twitter; all you need is a picture and you’re good to go. Was his account new?” Joey asked.

 

“Yes,” Marley said, as tears appeared again on her face. “He said he had just started the account; that’s why he didn’t have any followers or anything. I never should have believed him.”

 

“You were led here,” Adam said to Dakota. “Someone brought you to this garage so they could kill you, leave no witnesses, clean up the mess, and take your body God knows where. Someone is trying to kill you, Dakota. This is the second time that you’ve been attacked and you want to chalk it all up to what, coincidence?” He didn’t know what else to say. He was kicking himself, he had heard the news from Andre last night and didn’t do anything about it. Too vague, he thought. Not worth telling anyone, and as a result Dakota had almost died in a parking garage six blocks from him. And now she was questioning the attack? Did she really think it was just another confused partygoer – one with a gun who was hunting them and who ran when discovered?

 

Didn’t she understand how precious she was, how easy it would be for something to happen to her? She was so delicate and kind and generous, but there were bad people out there, awful, selfish, murderous people who had set their sights on the Kane family. People who didn’t care who died or what the cost would be, all they cared about was getting what they wanted. He needed to protect her; it was his fault this had happened at all. If he had done anything with the information from Andre, this all could have been prevented, but Adam had hesitated and now this was the punishment. He needed to convince Dakota that the threat was real.

 

“Should we call the police?” Marley asked.

 

“And tell them what?” Dakota responded softly, “that we were trespassing when we were surprised by a man with a gun? People will think we’re either making it up, or stupid. Besides, they caught the man who attacked me and my father.”

 

“But they haven't caught the man who paid him,” Adam said.

 

“What do you mean? No one paid him; he was a man with a grudge.”

 

“Was he? According to witness testimony and paperwork from the time, your father and Michael Martin ended on good terms, and then, suddenly, years later he’s back and trying to kill the both of you? It doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“But that’s what the police said. Why would they lie?”

 

“They’re not necessarily lying,” Joey said. “But the police have quotas that need to be filled. It looks good that they’ve caught the killer; re-opening the investigation looks bad.”

 

“I talked to someone last night,” Adam said quietly, “someone in the game, and he said that this goes deeper than Michael Martin. I didn’t say anything because he didn’t have any names to give me, but, after tonight. I don’t think he was wrong.

 

“If we’re not going to the police then can we at least go home?” Marley said. Her very look evoked pity, her hands and knees dirty from hiding in the parking lot, and there were tear stains on her face.

 

“I’ll call you a cab,” Joey said. “Do you have somewhere safe to go?”

 

“I can go to my mom’s. She’s super paranoid, lots of security. Dakota, you can come, too.” Marley said.

 

Adam felt a pain in his stomach. He didn’t want Dakota out of his sight. He didn’t want her to be at some strange woman’s house. He wanted to her next to him. He wanted to always be in a place where he could reach out and touch her. “You should stay with me,” he blurted out before he had time to think about it. “We thought the house was safe before, but you were attacked and your apartment is no good. There’s only one exit, so you’re basically trapped in there. We can figure something more permanent out tomorrow.” What would he do if she said no? If she just callously rejected him, or laughed at him? But she didn’t, she looked up into his dark eyes, and he could see tears were forming in hers. Wet drops were hanging from her perfect lashes and all he wanted to do was wipe them away.

 

“That would be nice,” Dakota said, nodding her head. A weight lifted from Adam’s shoulder, a burden he didn’t know he was carrying was suddenly gone. But burden wasn’t the right word; it wasn’t a burden, but an emptiness where something should be. Dakota had burrowed into his heart and planted herself there in the weeks he had protected her, in the night they had spent together. When he had been separated from her, she had been pulled from him and he had been longing for her every day. But now she was back. He only wished that it wasn’t the threat of death that had brought her to him.

 

A cab pulled up for Marley. Adam and Joey assured her they knew the driver and she would be safe. They told her to lock all the doors and close the blinds on her windows when she got home, to keep a lookout and make sure no one was following her.

 

“Call me,” Marley said as she pulled Dakota into a strong hug.

 

“I will, and you text me the second you’re home.”

 

“I will,” Marley said, stepping into the cab, which quickly took off.

 

“I should go back to the club,” Joey said. “I can take the guns and the lights, lock them back up.”

 

“Yeah, I’ll take Dakota home,” Adam said handing the shotgun and light to Joey who straddled his bike and quickly took off, leaving them alone in the dark parking lot. “We can take a car home,” Adam said, turning to Dakota, “I can call the club and have one sent over.”

 

“What about your bike?” Dakota asked.

 

“I’ll send someone to come and get it.”

 

“Why don’t we just ride to your house?”

 

“I wasn’t sure you would want to. Some people think they’re scary,” Adam said.

 

“I trust you,” Dakota said and Adam wanted to kiss her. He wanted to hold her and listen to her talk about anything. She trusted him; she wanted to be with him. Why hadn’t he called her earlier? Why had he punished himself with wanting her, and convincing himself he couldn’t have her? He had known what they shared was a real connection and he had faltered when he let someone else tell him what to do. Who was James Hastings that he could have ordered Dakota and Adam apart? Why had Adam ever listened to him in the first place.

 

Staring at Dakota Adam removed his leather jacket and held it out to her, and Dakota turned her back and let him slip the jacket over her arms. He gently, spun her around and zipped the jacket up, the sleeves falling well past her wrists while the base of the jacket grazed her thighs.

 

“Here,” he said handing her his helmet. “I only brought one, you should wear it.”

 

“What about you?” Dakota asked, taking the helmet from his hands.

 

“I’ll be fine. It’s not far.” Adam’s breath felt shallow in his chest, like he couldn’t get enough air. He wanted to get Dakota home, to his home. He wanted to be somewhere warm and safe with her.

 

Adam straddled his motorcycle and looked back at Dakota, standing next to him.

 

“Hop on,” he said.

 

“I just get on? Don’t I need to know how to ride it?”

 

“Can you ride a bicycle?” he asked.

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then you’ll be fine. Just hold on to me.”

 

He felt Dakota settle onto the bike behind him. Her warm body was flush against his. He could feel her warmth through his shirt, could smell her perfume. Her hands snaked around his waist and Adam reached down to squeeze her hand once before revving the engine and taking off.

 

Dakota held fast to Adam. Her entire body felt tense, and she was holding on for dear life. They called them donor cycles at the hospital. Motorcycles were incredibly dangerous and here Dakota was, hanging off the back of one. Except she wasn’t hanging off; she was sitting quite comfortably. Adam was cruising down the street, but traffic was light they drove quickly. Dakota allowed her grip to relax a little and she smiled when she didn’t go flying off into the night. She let herself look around at the buildings as they whizzed past, and feel the cool night air against her exposed legs.

 

Adam’s neighborhood was up and coming, but in the best way possible. Late on a Saturday night and the city streets weren’t packed or crowded, but they had some life to them. Bars and restaurants had their windows open and music and conversation bled into the street making everything feel more light and alive. Men and women smoked at an outdoor cafe and a young man strummed his guitar and hummed a tune as Dakota stepped off the bike. She took the helmet off and shook her loose hair, hoping the ride hadn’t done too much damage.

 

“This way,” Adam said, jerking his head to the left, but Dakota missed the closeness they shared on the bike, his strong body pressed against hers. So she reached out with her hand to find his, and was grateful when he took it, and squeezed, giving her a smile.

 

“So, I’m finally going to see your house,” Dakota said getting into step with him. “Should I be nervous?”

 

“I hope not. It’s at least clean, I can tell you that. My uncle was obsessed with housekeeping, and most of my chores involved mopping and dusting. But he did teach me that it’s worth the extra effort to have a clean house.”

 

“Seems like a good man.” Dakota said. They came upon a modern-looking Philadelphia row house, a white stone stoop leading up to a green door. The house was red brick and there were carefully tended plants growing outside; she wondered if Adam gardened.

 

Undoing about three different locks, Adam opened the door. An alarm started beeping and Dakota watched as he entered the code, re-arming the system and then locking the doors.

 

“You’re rather careful,” she said.

 

“I’m protecting precious cargo,” he answered.

 

They were in a small, but tasteful living room. The walls were painted white, and the floors were a dark hardwood. Adam had a red couch facing a large flat screen TV. Behind that room was the kitchen. Dakota could see a table with papers strewn across and a refrigerator and a small slice of backyard. Behind her was a set of steps that led to the second floor.

 

“Your house is very nice,” Dakota said as Adam began picking up a magazine that had been left on the couch.

 

“Well, my home theater is not nearly as nice as yours, but I like it.”

 

Dakota smiled and unzipped her jacket, handing it to Adam who hung it up.

 

“Do you want anything, a glass of water, a drink?”

 

“A glass of water would be great, and a drink would be great too, but...”

 

“What?” he asked.

 

“Would it be okay if I took a shower? I’m all gross from that parking garage,” she said, motioning to her legs, which were covered in dirt.

 

“Yeah, sure. It’s upstairs. I’ll show you.”

 

Adam led the way upstairs and as she walked, Dakota took a moment to survey the pictures on the walls. There was a young Adam with messy hair standing next to a bike, wrench in hand, smiling proudly. Another one of an older Adam standing with a bunch of men in matching leather jackets and beards, all staring intensely into the camera. She wondered how anyone could be both of those things at the same time. A happy smiling boy who likes to work with his hands, and a member of Scarred Angels, a bodyguard and muscle for hire.

 

Adam’s room was painted grey and there was a soft carpet on the floor. He had a large wrought iron bed made up with grey sheets. There was a dresser in the corner and the closet door was slightly open revealing its contents to Dakota. She wanted to go in there; she wanted to root around and figure Adam Mendel out. But politeness prevailed and she confined herself.

 

“Do you want something to wear tonight?” he asked and Dakota nodded. He pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt to Tony’s Gym and laid them both on the bed.

 

Dakota could not stop staring at him. How could she have ever thought his large presence a burden or nuisance? He was so strong and smooth and confident. She felt so safe with him. She wasn’t nervous or afraid, which was odd considering what had happened less than an hour ago. But it was like she had given all of her fear to Adam and he was holding it for her, telling her that she didn’t have to be afraid when he was there because there was nothing he could not handle. He would always protect her.

 

“Why didn’t you call me?” Dakota asked and Adam froze. She didn’t say anything else. She just looked at him. She wasn’t afraid or worried about what he was going to say. It didn’t matter, she was with him, they were together, and that was all that mattered. She just needed to know why.

 

“I was told not to contact you,” Adam said.

 

“What? By whom?” Dakota asked.

 

“James Hastings. He said the contract was over and that we should delete all of your personal information and have no more contact since the contract was over. I tried to visit you in the hospital, but they wouldn’t let me, said I wasn’t family.”

 

“I didn’t know,” Dakota said. She could feel her heart breaking. She could see Adam being turned away at the hospital, being told not to speak with her anymore. “James shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t ask him to.”

 

“Why didn’t you call me?” he asked.

 

“When I didn’t hear from you…I just figured that the job was over and you were done. That it was just a one-time thing,” Dakota answered.

 

“That’s what I thought, too, and after what you said to the police...” Adam said, walking over to her and taking her hand in his, he squeezed it gently and looked down at Dakota. “I wanted to call you. I kept your number in my phone.”

 

“I lied to the police because it’s none of their business. You have to understand that if you want to spend time with me; people care about the details of my life. I don’t know why, but they do; news sites report on who I’m dating and it sucks. I have no privacy. I can’t afford to make mistakes. Besides, with what we had, the details seem so tawdry, but it wasn’t. It was special, to me anyway, and I didn’t want a bunch of gossip rags discussing it on the seven o’clock entertainment news.”

 

Adam chuckled and said, “Fair enough.” He leaned forward and kissed her, and Dakota fell into the kiss and his arms like a thirsty man falls into a lake. He swept her up in his arms, running his hands over her back and she brought her hand up to his face, caressing his cheek, and avoiding the places where he had been hit.

 

“Take a shower with me?” she whispered, her forehead pressed against his. He nodded and it was Dakota who took him by the hand and led him into the bathroom, closing the door behind them.

 

Adam ran the tap and turned to Dakota who was lifting off her dress, a task Adam was only too eager to help her with, pulling the dress over her head and tossing it aside. He went to remove his own shirt and winced involuntarily at the pain the movement caused in his ribs.

 

“Oh no,” Dakota said softly, running her fingers lightly over the bruises. “I’m so sorry you’re hurt.”

 

“It’ll heal,” he sighed as Dakota’s hands found their way to this belt. She quickly undid the clasp and unzipped his pants. Adam kicked off his shoes and took off his pants and boxers in one motion. He watched as she reached her arms around and undid her bra, letting the garment fall to the floor. Finally she stepped out her black panties and reached over with her hand to test the water, adjusting the temperature and then stepping inside.

 

She felt the warm water hit her skin, pour over her face and down her chest and back, massaging her and soothing her. When she opened her eyes, she could see Adam staring at her and she held her hand out, beckoning him to join her. He stepped into the warm shower, standing underneath the spray, letting the water hit him as steam fill the bathroom. Dakota leaned against him, putting her head against his chest, feeling the warm water pour over him and onto her. Adam stroked her arms with his hands, leaning down to kiss her on her cheek.

 

She looked up at him, and then their lips met. He kissed her deeply, pulling her close, her body pressed against his erection as their tongues mingled and Dakota moaned at his touch and leaned against him. She pulled away and gave him a smile as she reached for the soap. It smelled like spices, and something else – it smelled like Adam. Lathering the bar up in her wet hands Dakota took great pleasure in running her soapy hands over his strong shoulders and well-defined abs. She brought the soap up and around his neck, massaging him where she felt tension, and then turned him around. She ran her hands up and down his back and then lower, allowing herself to caress his toned ass, making him shudder from the touch and turn around to face her. Dakota looked him in the eye and then brought her hands lower and lower, soaping up his lower stomach and then lower, her fingers wrapping gently around his penis and moving up and down. She watched as Adam closed his eyes and sighed, steadying himself against her shoulders.

 

She continued to glide her hands around his member, occasionally going lower and massaging his balls gently in her hands. But even though her touch was light and teasing, he grew quickly beneath her fingers, whispering her name with every touch. Finally he opened his eyes and smiled down at her. He kissed her as he took the soap from her, moving the lather up and down her arms, and then his strong hands were gently spreading the soap over her chest, taking her breasts in his hands and caressing them, running his fingers over her nipples and that sensitive area between her breasts. His slippery fingers glided over her skin, his touch tantalizing and tempting. He reached lower and massaged her stomach and then turned Dakota around.

 

He brought his hands up to her neck and began to massage her. His wet hands moved effortlessly over her skin while digging in and relaxing her muscles at the same time. Dakota sighed and leaned her head to the right as he leaned down to kiss her neck. She could feel his light stubble across her sensitive skin and she leaned into him as he kissed and nibbled and bit his way down her neck and across her shoulders. He pulled her back against him and she felt his erection on the small of her back, the sensation making her tremble with the memory of their last encounter.

 

Still facing away from him, Dakota leaned back onto him, and as he kissed her neck, she felt his hand caress her breast and then her belly and then lower as he stroked her inner thigh. Dakota moaned and leaned against him and was rewarded with his finger, sliding between and into her. She shuddered and gasped as his fingers grazed her sensitive inner flesh. He was slow and dedicated, his hand moving gently stroking up and down as she whispered yes and pressed back against him.

 

He moaned and bit her shoulder and whispered, “I want you.”

 

Dakota felt dizzy from heat of the Adam’s touch. She didn’t know up from down. All she knew was that she ached for him, her body craving his touch. The water had run all the soap from them, and they were clean and wet and warm. Adam turned off the water and stepped out, grabbing a towel. Dakota went to do the same, but he stopped her. He brought the towel to her skin and began to dry her off, running it up and down her legs and arms, over her breasts and her ass. The sensation of the soft towel on her skin made her shiver, and she watched as Adam dried himself off and gave her his hand to steady as she stepped out of the shower.

 

Her hand in his, he led her to the bedroom where he kissed her deeply, and his erection pressed against her stomach. He was taller than Dakota and she struggled to maintain her balance. As he pulled her against him, she was on her tiptoes, Adam practically holding her in the air. Then, smiling a wicked smile, he began to push her back until her butt was pressed against his dresser. He brought his hand up and grazed her cheek and then swept her up, holding her tiny frame in his arms, and sitting her down on top of his dresser.

 

The cool wood sent a shock through Dakota that was almost as strong as the shock of Adam picking her up so effortlessly. Putting a hand on each knee, Adam pulled her legs apart and moved himself between her. He kissed her as his erection pushed itself against her. Dakota wanted to feel him inside of her, and she took his penis in her hand and he grabbed her legs and lifted them up as she led him inside of her. She felt a shock as his member pushed against her walls, straining and stretching her. It took a moment for her body to adjust and Adam, always aware, went slowly at first, pushing into her and pulling out in even and slow motions.

 

It felt so good. Every time he entered her he seemed to find a way to go even deeper inside of her. Dakota was pushed back against the wall, Adam’s hands on her legs controlling her, controlling the thrust and the speed. But everything he was doing was right. His thrusts, when he entered her, were hitting that spot inside of her. Every time his penis brushed against it, Dakota moaned with pleasure, and, hearing her, Adam began to speed up thrusting into her faster and harder.

 

“Yes,” she cried, “yes please. It feels so good.” She could feel her orgasm growing, so tantalizing and teasing. She writhed her hips under Adam, encouraging him to touch her. As they moved together, their bodies worked towards the same goal. Dakota cried out and pushed against him, her orgasm growing until she was sure it was going to be too much, that it would be too powerful and she wouldn’t be able to control herself.

 

He pushed and she cried out and begged for more, encouraging him, saying anything that came to her mind, the filter portion of her brain having been turned off in the shower. With every thrust she got closer and closer, aware of every inch of him inside of her. She felt as it came to a crescendo as she writhed uncontrollably beneath him as his fast thrust pushed her further past anything she had ever known before. She was so close, she couldn't move, her every nerve ending on fire, all she could do was watch as Adam pushed into her, and then she cried out his name as her orgasm blasted through her, carrying her, forcing her body to convulse as she gripped his shoulders. Adam looked at her let out a loud moan as she felt him plunge deeply into her and he stayed close as she rode her orgasm until there was nothing left.

 

She had forgotten that she was on a dresser. When Dakota opened her eyes it took her a moment to remember where she was, but there was Adam’s face, leaning against her, still inside of her, taking deep breaths. Finally, he pulled himself out and Dakota stood shakily on her feet. But it was only for a moment. Adam’s bed was right there and together the two of them fell into it crawling up to the head and resting on the pillows.

 

“I missed you,” Adam said.

 

“Me or that?” Dakota asked with a giggle.

 

“Both,” Adam responded. They lay on their backs, their legs and torsos touching, holding hands on Adam’s chest.

 

Dakota looked at him, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and she thought about how lucky she was to have met him. As sleep overtook her, she could only wish they had met under better circumstances.

 

Dakota woke to Adam’s strong arm wrapped around her. The morning light was pouring through an open window and she could hear the soft sounds of birds chirping and children playing somewhere far away. She settled deeper into his embrace and felt his arm hold her tighter. His room was simple, but not in a bad way. It was clean and neat. There were framed photos of Adam and his friends on the wall with a copy of the approval for his club, mounted and framed. Dakota smiled at having a loan approval letter framed and hung on the wall. She realized she had never met anyone like Adam – someone who had truly come from nothing, worked for everything he had, and now was getting to enjoy his success. It was her dream. All of her charity work focused on poor and impoverished people, on giving them the chance at something better. But she still understood how hard it was for them, how much harder they had to work than she ever would.

 

Dakota turned over and looked at Adam’s sleeping face. There was light stubble on his cheeks and Dakota took her hand and stroked his cheek and he sighed.

 

“What time is it?” he mumbled, his eyes still closed.

 

“Early, only about eight thirty,” Dakota answered, kissing him on his forehead. “Go back to sleep.” His breath became deep and even almost instantly. Dakota smiled at how easily he could fall back asleep. But she was too awake for sleep to claim her.

 

Her mind was already racing. She hadn’t told anyone what had happened yet, not the police or her father. Part of her didn’t want to. She didn’t want to reopen the investigation. Everything had become easier since they had closed it. Dakota could drive herself around and, even more importantly, her father had stopped worrying. He was still recovering and she didn’t want this to cause him any stress. He still looked so weak and feeble when she visited him in the hospital.

 

Carefully she pulled herself away from Adam and out of the bed. Their clothes were still in piles on the bathroom floor as Dakota took a moment to look at herself in the mirror. Falling asleep with her hair wet had resulted in the nest of hair currently on top of her head, and she used some water and Adam’s brush to try to contain it. When she was out of the bathroom, Adam was still asleep, and Dakota didn’t want to wake him. He needed his rest; he was still recovering from the injuries he got from protecting her. So on her own she went back downstairs. As she walked, Dakota appreciated his house. It was on a small side street and his least-facing living room was filled with sunlight. The windows were open, making his entire house bright and airy. Dakota couldn’t really open her windows in her apartment. She was too far up and she didn’t realize how much she missed the fresh air until that moment.

 

She walked into the kitchen and, like the rest of the house, it was surprisingly clean, only a few cups and a bowl in the sink. There was a coffee pot next to the sink and Dakota quickly made herself some, filling the kitchen with coffee’s heavenly scent. Taking a purple cup from a cabinet, she stepped out in Adam’s backyard. Like most of the houses in this neighborhood, his backyard was just a cement slab, but it was larger than most. Adam had constructed a sort of work shed in the back yard. It was made up of unfinished two by fours of wood expertly crafted into a large working desk with several drawers and shelves and roof over it, with plastic sheeting that could be pulled down when it rained. There was what Dakota assumed were an engine and a carburetor on the bench both in various states of either being put together, or taken apart.

 

“Hey,” she heard a soft voice say from the doorway.

 

She turned and there was Adam, shirtless, wearing only a loose pair of sweatpants. He was leaning against the doorjamb, the rays of light playing along the muscles of his chest. Dakota smiled, knowing he was showing off for her, but she didn’t mind. She could have looked at him all day. “Did you build this?” she asked, gesturing to the shed.

 

“That? Yeah, it way easy,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. Dakota looked at the open air-tool shed he had built. She didn’t know anyone who could make something like this, certainly no one who would call it easy. Every man she knew would have hired a contractor and still found some way to take the credit for it.

 

“Now this,” he said, stepping outside, barefoot just like she was. “This is hard,” he said, holding up the smaller piece.

 

“Carburetor?” she guessed.

 

“How did you know?”

 

“That’s always what people are working on. Carburetors and engines, and even I know that’s too small to be an engine.”

 

“Correct, this is from a 1960 Ford Custom State Patrol Car. I found an old one at the dump and pulled some parts out. Collectors pay big money for pieces like this, but they have to work, so I took it apart, cleaned it, fixed it, and put it back together. But it was rusted together, hell of a job.” He gingerly placed the carburetor back down on his tool bench.

 

“Don’t you worry about leaving it out like this? Aren’t you worried someone will steal it?” Dakota asked.

 

“People know me in this neighborhood, and no one steals from me.” The confidence in his voice sent shivers down Dakota’s spine. Adam needed no bodyguard or security company; he didn’t need to make vague threats about people “he knew;” he was the person that people knew not to mess with. His persona alone kept thieves at bay.