by Wylder Stone
“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m here. I’m always here.”
Turning to face him, Trista put one hand on his face and stroked his cheek with her thumb. “And you’ll find me if I’m not.”
“Always.”
A small whimper escaped her as reality settled in and what happened to her continued to haunt her. “I was so scared. I thought we were safe. I didn’t mean to worry anyone or take a risk.”
Owen stroked the back of her head, trying to comfort her while Trista let out whatever she needed to.
“All I could think about was Mason…and you,” she said.
“Do you remember when we first met?” Owen asked. “When Cesar assigned me as your driver and bodyguard? I’d only been undercover a short time.”
“I was so mad,” Trista recalled. “I called you my babysitter.”
“Yep. That’s when I knew.”
“Knew?” Tilting her head up, Trista gave him a puzzled look.
“That you were one of a kind and that I would do anything for you, keep you safe.”
Smiling, Trista said, “You rarely spoke to me.”
“You were married, but I knew that wasn’t going to last. I was there to end him, expose him, and I was patient...just as I am now. My feelings never changed for you and never will. I’ll wait until you’re ready because I know, deep down, your feelings haven’t changed either.”
“How could you possibly know that, Owen Force?”
“Because you wouldn’t be mad at me all the time, still, if you didn’t care.”
“Owen…I so badly want to believe you, believe we can have something, but what happens when all of this is over, and we aren’t forced together? Look what happened last time.”
“We weren’t done looking over our shoulders. At least I wasn’t. After Mark, and whoever is helping him, no more looking.” He wiped a lone tear that trickled down her cheek and kissed her sweetly. His voice reduced to a whisper, and he said, “I still love you, Trista Ryan.”
Owen felt her relax into him, her breathing quiet and steady as she drifted off to sleep with those final words to dance in her dreams. Determined that there wouldn’t be a nightmare to follow, he stayed with her for a while, making sure Trista stayed calm, and her sleep was restful, especially after the day she had.
Careful not to wake her, Owen quietly slipped out of bed and went to the living room to make a call. He conferenced in his two brothers in Santa Monica with him and the two in Bear Springs to get everyone on the same page.
“We had a fire over here,” Troy said, “over at Billie James place. It was no accident either.”
“She was a big player when Cesar went down. Billie took down some of his men. Had a feeling she’d be a target. Tayler with her?” Owen asked.
“Yeah, I offered to take care of her and almost got my ass kicked by both Tayler and Billie,” Derek said.
“Stay away from her, Derek. Might be your type on the outside, but Billie isn’t your type on the inside,” Owen reminded his brother.
Derek liked his women wild and loose, or so he wanted everyone to think. Billie was wild and as tough as they came, but only because she wanted people to think that about her. Billie wasn’t a love ’em and leave ’em type like Derek had become. And she was Tayler’s, just nobody knew it yet.
“I got a question.” Jackson was their strategist and dealt with tactical planning and weapons using his military background. “How the hell was Mark Thomas in Santa Monica causing shit if he was burning shit up here in Bear Springs just a few hours before that?”
“That’s what I would like to know, brother,” Owen added.
“It wouldn’t be the first time we saw someone set up a distraction, like a fire, and used a trigger to start it. He could have set that up yesterday or last week, for all we know, and followed us to Santa Monica,” Derek reasoned.
“Yeah, could be. Mark would know exactly how to do it, too.” Owen wasn’t so sure, though. That required an awful lot of planning. “If no one knew we were coming to Santa Monica until this morning, though, how the hell did he manage it so fast? That would have required some planning, and he didn’t have that kind of time.”
“I’m keeping Tris and Mason here for a few more days until we get a better handle on things over there,” Owen informed his brothers. It just wasn’t safe, running back and forth without cause or purpose.
“Maybe he has help?” Jackson suggested. It wasn’t what any of them wanted to hear, but they needed to consider it. “We’ve all thought it but nothing solid to confirm it. Someone helped him out of a super max prison, so maybe they’re still helping.”
Troy let out a slow, low whistle. “Here’s the million-dollar question, boys…who?”
After hanging up the phone, Owen stood out on the balcony for a few minutes, looking over his city to the east and the beach to the west. One was chaotic, the other serene, and very much a reflection of the life he lived. He wondered where the son of a bitch was and prayed he had the restraint he needed when he caught the guy. If Mark did have help, who the hell was it? Owen had spent two years searching high and low for his enemies and cleaned up any outstanding messes he came across. There wasn’t anyone left. He saw to it.
Though he was surprised Mark wanted revenge, Owen understood why. When Owen and Elite made sure to put him away, Mark lost everything. Elite had to step in and take care of his family for him. They’d suffered enough, no thanks to Mark. But the real question was, where did Mark find an ally if he had one? Owen was a patient man. He’d get his answers, one way or another.
Walking into his room and seeing Trista lying in his bed made him nearly forget why they were there in the first place. She belonged there, and Owen hoped, before long, she would be there every night. He crawled back in bed behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
Feeling him close, Trista nuzzled into him before whispering, “I love you, too.”
11
Trista woke up smiling until she noticed the bed was empty and cold next to her. Panic reared its ugly head as the previous day’s events flooded back in, reminding her where she was and why. Her panic settled when she heard Mason’s laughter coming from outside the bedroom door.
Perfect timing. They walked in, Owen holding a food tray and Mason holding a flower, like a couple of troublemakers up to no good. But they were good. Everything at that moment was good.
Mason leaped into Trista’s arms. “Well, good morning to you too, handsome boy! You don’t feel warm anymore. Fever’s gone. You must be feeling better.”
“All the way better, Mama. We made you breakfast!” He smiled with pride, proud of his contribution.
“I see that. Thank you! Going to join me?” she asked.
Owen finally chimed in, “We already ate. Right after our workout. Right, dude?”
“Yep. We went on the elevator, then made our muscles stronger.” Mason spoke in a nonchalant manner before flexing his muscles to show off his hard work.
Trista gasped and quickly covered her mouth with both hands as if she were genuinely surprised. “Impressive!”
“So,” Owen interrupted, “you eat and soak in a nice long bath. We’re going to go catch his show and just hang out.”
“Okay. Mason, be a good boy and listen to Owen,” she reminded the little boy of his manners.
“Don’t worry,” Owen said, leaning down to kiss her forehead, “we got this.”
“Yep,” Mason said as he leaned in to kiss her too, “we got this.”
Mason grabbed Owen’s hand and led him out of the room. “Let’s go, buddy.”
As Trista listened to them make their way down the hallway, she could hear their conversation.
With a disgusted tone, Mason asked, “Why’d you kiss my mama?”
“Because I like her,” Owen replied.
“So you wanna kiss her a lot?” Mason concluded.
“Dude, a lot,” Owen finished, leaving Trista to giggle.
Gathering her clothes, Trist
a made the most of the quiet time and started the bath. Lost in thought, she skimmed over the food tray her boys left and picked something to eat while the water filled and warmed. If she was going to be pampered and get time to herself, Trista might as well enjoy it to the fullest. She took her coffee and the bagel breakfast sandwich from the tray and ate it in the bathtub. She didn’t get many opportunities like this, so she was taking full advantage.
Her lightly scraped knees stung as she sank into the soothing warm water. They were badly bruised already and a bit swollen, but she would be fine. Her sore, wound-up muscles began to relax. She needed this. Owen knew she did, hence the morning surprise.
He had said at one point he could get used to this, and truth be told, so could she. Not just breakfast in bed and long, lazy, uninterrupted baths – though it was nice – but having someone. The one someone. If Trista ever needed proof, a sign from the universe or fate to spell it out for her, yesterday was her sign.
He came for her. Owen Force was her someone. When fear owned her every emotion, consumed her, and Trista was certain her time was up, he came for her. When she was defeated, he was her champion. When Trista wanted to give up and give in, Owen wouldn’t let her. He loved her, and Trista believed him when he said she was it for him.
If anything good could come from a bad situation, it was this…it was him. Her confidence grew tenfold with him at her side. He was all of the good things in life that she wanted. He was her silver lining. But alas, she didn’t want to be wrong and misread anything because sometimes tragic events and high emotional states make people act and say things they wouldn’t otherwise. That was what happened last time. They were on the run from her now-deceased husband. The stakes were high, emotions higher. They thought they had something then, but as soon as the enemy was neutralized and came to an end, so did they.
She finished her bath and readied for the day. When she approached the door to join Owen and Mason, she stalled. Voices could be heard in the distance, coming in from down the hall. It wasn’t just Mason and Owen. They had company. There was a petite woman with her hands on her hips facing each of the Force boys who were in town. Next to her a little girl with the same fiery red hair and stance. The girl was the spitting image of the older woman, a granddaughter, maybe. Owen and his brothers were hanging on the woman’s every word, attentive and maybe even a little frightened of her. It had to be their mother – Maddy Force.
Genevieve sat at the opposite end of the island with a satisfied smirk on her face that matched that of the little redheaded girl. She had to be Ruby Force, James’s daughter and the apple of each uncle’s eye.
“Now that’s all that I will say about that. You hear me, boy?” Her disapproval and frustration were unmistakable as her hot temper scolded Derek. “You’ll not miss family dinner again unless you're bleeding and half dead somewhere. In that case, I’ll be bringing your dinner to you!”
“Yes, Ma,” he said as his brothers snickered.
Maddy raised her finger, shook it at her other two boys, and said, “Don’t you two start too. You were raised better than that.”
Owen quickly bit his tongue and straightened his smirk. “Wouldn’t think of it, Ma.”
She slid down the counter and leaned in, looking at Mason. “Now you, little handsome. I’m these big boys mama and Ruby’s Nana. You can call me Nana too or Maddy if you’d rather.”
“Just call her Nana,” Ruby chimed in, speaking sweetly to Mason. “She says it’s her favorite word, and she’ll give you candy.”
Mason giggled through his enormous smile, smitten with both redheads, it seemed. “Okay.”
“Ah, you must be Trista. Nice to meet you, dear. I’ve heard an earful,” Maddy said to Trista, drawing all attention to her.
“Oh? Uh. Good, I hope?” Trista chuckled uncomfortably, feeling a little under the spotlight.
“Of course, honey. Seems this one has finally caught the bug,” she said, referring to Owen. “He fancies you, and I can see why.”
“Mom, seriously?” Owen interrupted, his embarrassment evident.
“Yes! Seriously! It’s about time you settle down. You’re the oldest of the bunch and setting a poor example if you ask me.” Owen started to say something, but Maddy just kept on talking, not interested in his defense. “Now, I brought you all some food from the bar. Sorry, brewery. Don’t tell your father I called it a bar. Anyway, be sure to eat so I know you’re all taken care of while you sort out whatever mess you’re working on now.”
Maddy moved toward Trista and gave her an unexpected hug and kiss on the cheek. “Welcome to the family, dear. It’s a pleasure to meet you and your beautiful son. Be sure to eat.”
Stunned, Trista just smiled, unsure what she should say back. It seemed Maddy had her own way of thinking and doing things, and no one challenged her. Who was Trista to start? Welcome to the family? She didn’t dare argue, given the stern scolding she walked in on. Trista would let Owen handle it. Maddy was his mother, after all.
After making her rounds, giving everyone a hug and kiss to the cheek as she did with Trista, Maddy stopped at Mason and rocked him as she squeezed him, giving him an extra kiss.
“And you, my handsome fella, I’ll be seeing you at Sunday dinner. Wait until Grandad gets a glimpse of you.” Maddy pinched his little cheeks in a grandmotherly way and turned to Trista. “In case my boy forgot the manners I raised him with, family dinners are the last Sunday of every month at the bar and grill. The rest of the Sundays are still at the brewery but a little lighter in attendance. We’re closed Sundays just so we can gather there. We’ll see you there?”
Trista assumed it was a real question, given how it was presented, and answered, “Maybe,” but quickly realized it was a test to see if she had been paying attention. When Maddy gave her that stern scolding look, Trista quickly changed her answer to, “Okay,” earning her a pleased smile from the woman who clearly didn’t take no or maybe for an answer.
“Enjoy your meal. Love you all,” Maddy said as she walked through the door, tossing a wave behind her.
Mason giggled. “I like Nana.”
The men escaped to the balcony to talk business while Trista and Vivi stayed inside and chatted while the kids played. For a moment, life felt normal again.
12
Their day wore on just as it had begun, like family. Genevieve took the kids to the coffee shop downstairs, The Cloud – an internet café – for fancy hot chocolate. James accompanied them for safety, though Trista had a sneaking suspicion a tough girl existed underneath the cardigan and the dark-framed glasses Vivi wore. Genevieve was the sweet girl who kept Elite Force Security running with her cute albeit librarian-like aesthetic, but Trista’s hunch was that Vivi was a closet badass in hiding.
When they returned, they played video games in the media room set up on James’s floor. He was the tech expert of the group, so it made sense James had such a thing. Video games turned to crafts, then crafts to movies and junk food. Mason was having the time of his life with his new friends.
Trista’s heart was happy. They’d done well and had plenty of family and family-like friends in Bear Springs that they loved, but something felt right about Santa Monica, even if they couldn’t get out and explore at that time.
Trista was distracted from the book she was reading when an excited Mason came barreling in, asking to have a sleepover with Vivi and Ruby.
“Mama, please? We’re staying up the whole night!”
“At the rate they’ve been going, I give them until nine thirty.” Vivi laughed.
“I don’t know, sweetheart. Vivi might need a break to sleep. You’ve had her running all day.”
James sensed the reluctance in her voice. Playing nearby was one thing but a full night away from her son was an entirely different issue.
“Tris, it’s safe here in the building. There’s no way anyone can get in – promise. Genevieve…” James began, turning to Vivi, making sure she caught the emphasis on her whole name, “has
Ruby all the time. They’ll be fine.”
“I really don’t mind. I enjoy having them around. It’s fun. And if you just feel like he needs to come back in the middle of the night or you want to check on him, so be it. We aren’t far away at all. You know where my apartment is in this place.”
Trista looked at Owen, unsure how to answer. She wanted her little boy to enjoy his time in Santa Monica, distracted by fun so he didn’t sense the danger surrounding them. But Trista also had a hard time trusting that they were invincible and untouchable in that building. Owen shrugged his shoulders, leaving the decision to her because he knew it was the only way Trista would be comfortable with it.
Mason and Ruby were staring her down with cute smiles and batting eyelashes, forcing her to give in, “Go pack your jammies and something to wear when you wake up! And don’t forget your toothbrush!”
Trista liked her simple life in Bear Springs. It had been a drastic change from growing up in Atlanta to living a pampered life in New York but a welcome one. Sitting on Owen’s balcony, having just watched the sunset to the west and city lights of Los Angeles wake the nightlife to the east, Trista couldn’t help but feel at home.
Santa Monica gave her that city life she missed, but in simpler terms somehow and with Bear Springs not far, it would be easy to wind down even more in small-town USA when city life became heavy. It was something she could absolutely get used to. Maybe even if Owen were part of the plan. How quickly Trista’s life had changed from one where she resisted the idea of him to dangerously envisioning a life with him in only a handful of days.
With the fire table in front of her turned on, her attention was directed to her right, where Owen stood with a thick blanket over his shoulder and two mugs in hand.
“What are you out here thinking about?”
“Nothing…” Trista stalled, considering her answer, and it wasn’t entirely truthful. “Everything…”
“That isn’t confusing,” Owen teased.
