by Raven Scott
“Normally, I’d follow the person around like a dog until the they decided they were safe. Since there’s no active danger to this chick, and the guy’s just being paranoid, I’m just making Delilah stay on the couch. If she wants to go out, she can, but from what Vanessa told me— she’s super chill and not very needy.” I didn’t bother to hide my frown as I fished my phone out of the cup holder to swipe open my e-mail. “It’s not actually her that’s in danger, but it’ll still be a huge pain in the ass. From the information I got, this dude— Darren— has been fucking her for a few years, but she always turns him down. I don’t know why, but you’d think they’d either get together or split up already.”
“Maybe, she’s just holding out for him to come to America?” I grunted in acknowledgment as I copy-pasted Delilah’s number to make a text telling her to hurry the fuck up. According to Vanessa, Joci’s English class ended twenty minutes ago. “You really hate anyone even remotely associated with that job, don’t you?”
“Yeah, well. . . I know it’s wrong to judge a whole people on one encounter, but— boy did Ivano make a strong impression. He was such a dick to everyone, even the people in his own entourage. If it was me, I would’ve just sent him back before he even set foot on the Tarmac. I guess, in that way, I don’t hate Joci as much. At least she said ‘hi’ to me. That asshole just breezed past like I was a bug waiting in line to be squished under his Italian leather shoe. That fucker—” My voice deepened with agitation just remembering when Ivano Makovich landed, and I trained my gaze on the wheel as I gripped it tightly. “That set the tone for the whole thing. I wasn’t surprised at all that no progress was made.”
“So, it’s not really surprising that you’re gonna be guarding this girl so the guy can flee Russia?” Nodding, I tapped the ‘Send’ button with a little more force than necessary, and Riley was frowning under furrowed brows when I looked up. “Not to mention the paperwork. . .”
“Definitely don’t mention the paperwork. It’s my archnemesis.” She smiled small, tinging red at the ears while I shook my head a little. “It doesn’t matter. As long as this chick’s not a pain in my ass, I can deal. Besides, it’s entirely likely that she wouldn’t even be on this side of the country if my boss didn’t want her here. She lives and works in California, so if I can just stick it out fourteen weeks, I’ll probably never see her again.”
“She’s not prettier than me, right?” That question surprised me, and Riley reached to palm my crotch as she leaned over the center console. Puffing out her lips, she made her eyes big and pouted, and her brows crinkled suggestively. “Tell me the truth.”
“Even if she’s physically prettier than you, you’re better than her.” Riley’s pupils blew as she pulled back, and I had to actively stop myself from frowning. “You said to tell you the truth. . .”
“You don’t think I’m the prettiest girl in the world?” She actually sounded a little amused, and I cocked my head as confusion clouded my gaze. Faint anxiety slithered in my veins, but. . . the fuck was I supposed to say? Riley wanted the truth, so she got the truth.
Unless she was lying and expected me to say she was hot as fuck, and maybe I’d get some road head? But that’s dangerous and should be discouraged.
“I don’t know what Delilah looks like, so I don’t know if you’re prettier than her.” She looked so puzzled at my answer, and discomfort wrapped around my ribs. “You don’t really care if she’s prettier— you just wanted a compliment, which I gave you. Even if she’s prettier, you’re better.”
“How am I better?” Genuine confusion lilted Riley’s tone, and I twisted to rest my head against the seat. My mind whirred at a frantic pace, drawing on everything I knew about her and her life. Excluding the recently discovered drama. I don’t want Riley getting wind of that shit. Despite how bad it smells.
“You just are? I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer these questions, Riley. I guess, the most straightforward answer is that I know you, but I don’t know anything about her. You can only draw on your own experiences with people to judge them. I’m not saying Delilah’s a straight up bitch, but she’s also not better for me than you are.” That sounds so stupid. I cringed internally, but Riley seemed completely caught on my answer as silence descended on us. Thankfully, the back passenger door swung open, and I twisted as some random, young woman climbed into the back seat. “Delilah?”
“That’s me! So, how’s this going to work? I just stay at the hotel, or. . .? To be honest, Darren’s overreacting, but I promise to try to be as unobtrusive as possible.” Turning back around as she spoke, I glanced at Delilah in the rearview through narrowed eyes. Objectively, she was gorgeous, but— she’s not Riley. “I’m not sure why he’s even doing this. It’s not like Makovich can get to me. After how he treated everyone, I’m shocked he just left without incident.”
Her voice is annoying. Delilah was bubbly and talkative and obviously very peppy, and I shot Riley a wary look as my car rumbled to life. My girl was still reeling from what I’d said, staring under furrowed brows at the dashboard with a thoughtful expression painting her face.
“You’re gonna be sleeping on my sofa.” I had to back up to get out of my spot, and I spoke up once I was in the proper lane and cruising. “You can grab your shit from the hotel and check out.”
“Y— your. . . couch? Why can’t I just stay at the hotel if you don’t have a place to put me?”
“Security risk.” My curt answer earned me a noticeably frosty glare at the back of my head. “If you don’t like it, call your boyfriend and tell him to call it off. Of course, on the extremely slim chance that he does get assassinated, and someone comes after you, manages to slip through the net. . . I’m not gonna be around to save your ass.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Grumbling as she buckled herself, Delilah flipped her vibrant, blonde hair from my view in the rearview mirror. “I appreciate that you’re doing this—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there, okay. I’m doing this because someone is paying me to. It’s not a favor. It’s not optional. You’re my client, and I wasn’t given any instructions on what liberties to take or where you’re going to be. So, one can only assume that you’re expected to stay with me, where it’s safest— on the couch. I’ll reiterate. If you don’t like it, call your boyfriend and tell him to call it off. I still get paid either way. Here’s a thought.” Rolling to a red light behind another car, I twisted to glare at Delilah as she watched me, wide, green eyes glistening at my rough tone. “Shut the fuck up about it if you’re not going to try to fix it. Your boyfriend never said I couldn’t tape your fucking mouth shut and hang you from the ceiling until he gets here. Technically, that’d be adhering to my side of the contract. Your comfort is the issue up in the air, here, not whether or not you’re crashing on my sofa. Good? Good. Now. . .”
Fuck. Delilah’s eyes reddened before I turned back around— from frustration or fear of my outburst, I didn’t know, and I didn’t care. This just set the tone for the whole gig, and I gripped the wheel tightly even as Riley’s lips puffed out of the corner of my eye. I could tell from the wrinkle in her brow that she was trying not to laugh, and my mood picked up considerably.
Really, I wondered if she ever believed me when I said I treated her different. I wasn’t going to be a dick to Delilah to make my point, but she hadn’t been in the car a total of five minutes. The silence was deafening, my blood drumming louder in my ears as the light turned green. It’s gonna be a long-ass drive to my place.
“What do you want for dinner?” Riley spoke up to shoot me the most satisfied, smug, almost smarmy look of feminine pride I’d ever been directed, and I flexed my hands on the wheel. What was I feeling right now, food wise? Rarely did I eat lunch; I usually had a big breakfast and whatever for dinner. At least it’s a distraction.
“You know what I haven’t had in a long, long time? It’s something my mom used to make when I was little. It’s called Rice and Meat, and it’s basically l
ike. . . rice. . . and ground beef, and, like, a packet of that Lipton noodle stuff. I have to stop and get some.” Happy surprise drenched her features, and I smiled as I reached a stiff hand across the center console. “That sounds really good, actually. I eat pretty well, but I could do a cheat meal.”
“It sounds like a plan, then.” Riley bopped her head in a nod, covering my hand with hers, and my lips twitched up. Warmth suffused my chest, my bad mood vanishing completely as I tried to think of where the nearest grocery store was. Rice and Meat was simple, quick, and filling; it didn’t have a lot of nutritional value, but I wasn’t exactly keen on cooking when I got home.
20
Riley
Staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t seem to close my eyes for more than a second or two. Excitement trilled in my veins, and the near constant urge to just giggle from the happiness sparkling in my chest was almost overwhelming.
“Reece?” Tilting my head, I rolled over as Reece popped his head out of the bathroom. Shaving cream smeared all over his face, and he arched a brow quizzically as I rested my cheek on my arm. “Do you wanna get married?”
“Huh?” His expression blanked out, and he dropped his razor with a small clatter as his brows nearly flew past his hairline. My heart thundered hard, and I held my breath while he blinked hard and fast. “Uh— no? Why would I want to do that? I mean, if it’s for tax purposes, now would be the best time, but. . .”
“Not right now. Have you ever seen yourself getting married, though?” Anxiety burrowed deep in my gut when Reece immediately shook his head. Bending down to grab his razor, he sniffed a hard breath before straightening to lean on the bathroom door frame.
“There’s no reason to get married that separate court documents can’t supersede. Is this about the conversation in the car a few days ago?” Nodding unabashed, I licked my lips heavily as expectation stained my tongue. Through his thick shaving cream beard, his lips thinned when he sighed through flared nostrils. “I don’t think we should get ahead of ourselves, Riley.”
“I’m just wondering about the future. Th—” Reece disappeared into the bathroom again, and I sat up to run my hands through my hair with a sigh. Pulling my knee up to rest my chin, a small, perpetual smile stretched my lips. “This is only the third time I slept over, but I think things are going great!”
“You’re never gonna get over my saying you’re better, are you, Riley?” My heart fluttered as I shook my head even though Reece couldn’t see me, and his deep, sultry laugh floated out of the open bathroom threshold. “No— I can’t say I ever saw myself getting married, exactly, but when you say that, do you mean mid-forties, with a dog and a mortgage living in in the State, or do you mean a wedding?”
“Both. But, let’s say wedding for arguments sake.” In the thoughtful silence that met my declaration, I just couldn’t stop being so happy. I mean— what was sweeter than telling me no one was better for him than me? For days, I’d ridden that high of realizing that Reece seriously meant what he said. He truly believed that, or he wouldn’t have said it.
And yeah— Delilah had the whole exotic-face-and-green-eyes-and-frail-delicate-frame thing going on, but she was a major complainer. She knew she was gorgeous, and her attitude flailed wildly between being very talkative and bubbly to sulky and grumbling under her breath as she sauntered away. I honestly didn’t know if she was just that upset about being put under protection, or because it wasn’t on her terms.
“Logically. . .” Speaking up to cut through my thoughts, Reece drew my attention to the empty doorway, and I held my breath as my heart lurched into my throat. “The next step would be to spend time together, fuck around a lot, maybe go on a vacation or two, and then talk about moving in together. I’m down for that. If you want a wedding, make a dream board or something subtle like that.”
“So, the idea of tying me up permanently has no appeal to you at all?” He poked his head out of the bathroom again, his half-shaven face drawing in some emotion I couldn’t place. Puffing out my lips, goosebumps washed my arms and down my bare back.
“Red tape is an unflattering color on you.” Once again, Reece disappeared to continue shaving, and my smile widened as warmth blossomed in my chest. “Besides— it’d be the government tying us together, not me tying you up. Not to mention that if I was going to marry you, I’d wanna meet your parents first.”
“What? Why?” Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I stood up to stretch my arms over my head with a groan. Flexing my toes against the hardwood, tension slithered up my legs, and blood drummed in my ears. I reached down for his discorded shirt, pulling the fabric to my nose to inhale deeply before scrambling inside. Wandering to the door, I leaned on the frame as Reece bent over the sink, carefully shaving his facial hair. He paused, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror to flash with irritation.
“So I can tell you mom to her face that even though she’s an egregious cunt, you turned out confident and pretty alright for a blue-collar Connecticut girl.” My brows rose in surprise, and Reece stuck his razor under the faucet to turn the knob sharply. “I know it’s a reactive thing, but I don’t think it’s unwarranted, either. What mother tells her daughter that being sexually assaulted is her own fault? That’s fucked up, firstly, and secondly. . . if that’s any indication of what other shit she says to you, I want nothing more than to use all the wonderful things about you to just tear her apart. I’m really good at that shit.”
“Yeah. . .” I wasn’t sure what to say to that, and my mouth dried as Reece went about clearing his neck of his stubble. My heart sank back down into my chest, but— really, there wasn’t anything else to say. My mom made it clear what she thought of me, and that was okay. Things got better, and life moved on regardless. “Um— I’m gonna go make breakfast. Want anything specific?”
“Whatever you want is fine. Riley—” Stopping for the umpteenth time, Reece turned to me fully to scan my face through narrowed pupils. “If you’re afraid your mom is gonna ruin your life even worse somehow, you can tell me. Okay?”
“Okay.” I nodded, and he went back to shaving as I headed down the stairs. Delilah was flopped on the sofa, struggling to sleep, and I briefly wondered if she knew it was a pull-out couch. She only talked when Reece wasn’t in the same room as her, and I got the sense that she really hated being told what to do. Craning my neck over the back of the sofa, I peeked at her face, and her eye rolled in its socket to meet mine. “I’m gonna make breakfast. Eggs and bacon. You want any?”
“Yeah, please.” Delilah looked and sounded so miserable, and my heart ached for her as she hoisted herself up to sit. “How long have you two been together? Is Reece always such an ass?”
“Not always, no. We’ve only been dating a few weeks. What about you? The guy you’re. . . seeing. . . it’s been a few years, right?” Green eyes flashed behind her long, blonde eyelashes as she blinked blearily, only meeting my question with a heavy nod. “Do you ever talk about the future or anything?”
“There wasn’t a future until Darren got rid of that dick of a boss.” She inhaled deeply through her nose before standing up, raking her hands through her hair. Annoyance twisted her beautiful, sharp features, and I arched a brow as curiosity ran rampant between my ribs. “He always said he’d leave when the time was right, but I was losing faith in him— which sucks, because I really love him. I just am not gonna wait around for another 5 years only to be disappointed all the time.”
“Are you excited he’s coming to the States?” Tossing the question over my shoulder as I headed for the kitchen, I frowned under tightly knit brows. How awful was it to love someone but have no future with him? This feeling that enveloped me with warmth and security and happiness— what if it had a time limit?
“As excited as I can be considering the circumstances, I think. He makes trips here and stuff, but Darren’s the kind of guy that likes to lump stuff together. I’m hoping that once we’re in the same hemisphere, that’ll change. I mean, logistically, I couldn
’t be high up there on his list of priorities, but. . . He’s selling his black book to Santino in exchange for entrance. That’s not something to take lightly.” What does that even mean? I popped open the fridge with a hum of acknowledgment, and Delilah sat down at the kitchen table to sigh dramatically. “Maybe, I’ll go back to being a teacher. I’m tired of all this powerplay drama stuff. This isn’t how I thought this would happen.”
Maybe, Delilah really has a lot to complain about. It got annoying because complaining was all she did, but. . . her life sucked! Loving a man that didn’t put her first— working a job she really didn’t like, but she didn’t want to be poor anymore— how crappy.
21
Riley
‘Riley: I’m waiting on this call back, still. How’s things going since you dropped me off?’
It’d only been about twenty minutes since Reece dropped me off at my apartment, but both of us had been reluctant. I didn’t want to leave my cozy, safe space with him, and he didn’t want to be stuck along with Delilah. It’s too bad I got stuff to do here.
Laundry needed to be done, and I was waiting for Vanessa to call me back about whether or not I’d gotten the job. If I did, I wanted to go through all my clothes. I needed to go through my shoes, and things might need to be replaced if there was too much wear.
Right now, though, I was simply going through my refrigerator looking for items about to expire. Not having money to play around with was a blessing in disguise. Reaching to grab a package of sliced cheese, I turned it around in my hands and squinted to find the little date printed somewhere.
“Yeah. . . two days ago is bad.” Nothing mattered when I was with Reece. I never wanted to leave his bed or stop looking at him, and everything else was optional. Eating was optional. Breathing was optional. There was nothing outside my field of vision, and he was always in the center of it.
