by Hawk, Maya
“You’re the only Titan registered as a resident in this town. You have a history of assault. The suspect in the Ramirez case was wearing a shirt identical to the one you’re wearing right now.”
I hunch forward, running my thumb along my brow. “Yeah. All signs point to me. I get that. But it wasn’t me. I’m telling you that.”
“All you have to do, Titan, is give us your alibi.”
I’m cornered. Caught in a trap. Either way it goes, I’m looking at spending some more time locked up like a caged animal for something I didn’t even do.
There’s a knock at the door, and the detective jerks his attention that way. A second later he slaps the table and rises.
“I’ll be right back.” He leaves, the door slamming behind him. The clink of a lock fills the cinderblock room.
This is some bullshit.
The tick of the clock marks the minutes that pass, each one slower than the one before.
My mind is filled with a hundred different scenarios. Not having control over this moment – over my fate – is pure fucking hell.
The clink of the lock and the sweeping of the heavy door sends my heart into my chest for a second.
“Titan,” the detective says. “You’re free to go. For now.”
I’m confused, but I don’t say anything. Instead, I collect myself and follow him down the hall.
And then I see her.
Jordana.
I don’t know how she knew I was here. I don’t know what she said or what she did. But I swear to God, this woman – my woman – is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I fight my excitement for the sake of playing it cool, and head out the front door with her.
We don’t speak until we get to the car.
“Titan,” she says, her eyes filled with worry and traces of doubt. She’s so fucking gorgeous in the morning, in the natural light. Her beauty is a stark contrast to a shitty ass day like today. “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know who did it. But I know it wasn’t you.”
“How do you know?” I ask.
“I know your heart. At least I think I do. You wouldn’t kill someone over what Thad did to me. You’re a smart man. You don’t want to go back to prison, and you sure as hell don’t belong in there.” She worries her lip. “And you want to be with me. I mean, I think you do. You wouldn’t throw that away.”
She’s right.
“What’d you say?” I ask.
“I told them I was with you last night.” She sighs, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off my forehead. “I told them we’ve had an ongoing relationship since you were released.”
“But your internship…”
“I’m willing to sacrifice my internship if it means you’ll be free. I couldn’t live with myself if you were sent away for something you didn’t do.”
I’m amazed by her faith in me. No one looks at me the way she does, with hope and optimism. She might be Mary fucking Sunshine, but she’s my Mary fucking Sunshine.
“You really believe in me,” I say.
She nods, biting her lower lip. I lean down and crush her mouth with a kiss. This woman lied for me. She became my alibi. She caught me as I fell. No one else would do that for me.
Shit, if I had half a brain about me I might wife her right here and now.
“I didn’t do it,” I whisper, my fingers tangling in her dark curls.
“I know,” she says. “Titan, I know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE – JORDANA
My mother calls me the next morning.
I’m sure she’s worried sick.
I didn’t come home last night. Instead, I stayed with Titan, not wanting to leave his side in case he got swept up in something again. Someone framed him, and my main priority right now is finding out who would’ve done it.
“Hello?” I answer Mama’s call on the third ring.
“Jordana, where on God’s green earth are you?!”
“I’m fine, Mama. I stayed with a friend last night. I should’ve called you. I’m so sorry.”
“You better be sorry, girl.” I hear the anger in her voice. Sober anger sounds much different than drunken anger. There’s less sadness in it. More rage. “I was worried sick! How do you think I felt when I woke up this morning and your car was gone?”
Probably the same way she felt that morning Jerome didn’t come home.
“I’m sorry.” I offer another apology, as if it could possibly calm her down.
“Where are you? Who are you with?” she asks. “And I drove by your intern site this morning. Your car wasn’t there. I know you’re not at work, Jordana, so don’t even try to lie.”
I’m perched on the edge of Titan’s bed, the door to his bathroom ajar as thick billows of steam escape. He’s showering. We hadn’t talked about telling our parents, but I’m not sure I have a choice now.
“I stayed with Titan,” I blurt. My face winces, my eyes jamming tight.
I’m met with silence on the other end.
At least, for a minute or two.
“Uh, what did you say?” she asks. “I don’t think I heard you clearly. Did you just say you stayed the night with Titan? As in Lewis’ son?”
“Yes, Mama.”
She laughs. She thinks it’s funny. I hope that’s a good thing.
“Oh, no,” she says. “Naw. Naw. Naw.”
“We’re close friends, Mama,” I say. “That’s all you need to know.”
“Have you been screwing him?” she asks.
My cheeks burn. Never in a million years did I ever plan to discuss my sexual life with my mother.
“I said we’re good friends,” I repeat.
“You must think I was born yesterday. You must think you’re so damn clever, sneaking around at night, running over to his apartment like you’re smarter than everyone.” She huffs, and I can just picture her with a hand on her curved hip and a jaw hanging to the floor. “You lost your damn internship, didn’t you, Jordana?”
“I’m going to, yes,” I say. “I’m turning in my ID and resignation today.”
“There goes your whole damn future. There goes four years of college tuition. Right down the drain. You’re paying me back every last red cent, you understand me?”
“Yes, Mama.”
In my defense, she’s being entirely too dramatic, but I’m not about to tell her that.
“You need to get your things and go,” she says. “Come by and pick everything up. You’re not staying here anymore. You’ve lost your damn mind, Jordana. Who do you think you are? Hooking up with your future stepbrother and throwing away your good reputation and your education like that?”
She rambles on, but I tune her out. Instead I focus on the glimpse I catch of Titan’s naked body in the bathroom mirror. He runs his palm along the fog, clearing it up before securing a white towel around his waist.
The sight of him makes me smile.
Knowing he’s mine makes all of this worth it.
“Mama, I’m going to let you go,” I say. “I’ll be by to pick up my things sometime this week.”
She doesn’t mean half the things she’s saying. She’ll calm down. She’s a good woman, a sweet, kind, loving woman. She’s just upset that she didn’t pick up on any of this before. But how could she? Drinking until she passes out every night.
I can only hope this will be a wakeup call to her.
Titan emerges from the bathroom, a half-smirk on his sexy face.
“Who was that?” he asks.
“Mama.” I sigh. “I told her.”
His smile fades. “Oh, yeah? How’d she take it?”
“Not well. Wants me to get my things and move out.” I gather my hair in my hands, draping it over my shoulder. “She’s just being dramatic.”
“Huh.” He cocks a head. “I always thought she liked me.”
“Not when you’re screwing her only daughter,” I laugh. “Apparently.”
“I’d apologize to her, but I’m not really sorry.�
�� He struts past me, leaning down and stealing a kiss. I drag my finger down his damp, muscled arm. My body craves his weight on me once more, but it’s only been an hour since our last round. I’ll give him time to recharge.
“So I’ve been thinking,” I say. “We need to find out who’s behind all this. Who would have any reason to set you up?”
He collapses in a chair by the window, raking his fingers through his wet hair.
“I’ve racked my brain, Jordana, and I cannot, for the life of me, figure out who would have it out for me.”
“Who all have you associated with since you’ve been out?” I ask.
“Just you and the guys at the shop,” he says. “I thought maybe Kyle, but I’m worth too much to him. And KJ’s not even an option. He’s a scrawny little thing who can’t think straight half the time. He’s a simple guy.”
“Maybe it’s someone you fought?” I propose. “Maybe you humiliated them and they wanted to set you up? Take you down? This is why you need to stay away from those underground fighting rings.”
“Should I get a pen and some paper? You about to lecture me? Do I need to take notes?”
“I’m being serious, Titan. No more fighting, okay? Please. It’s over.”
He blows a long breath past his lips and meets my gaze. “Yeah. I was leaning that way anyway, but fine. It’s over.”
I smile, standing up and strutting toward him. I crawl into his lap, straddling him, and hook my arm around the back of his neck. His clean scent fills the air, mixing with fresh air from his cracked window.
The towel covering his lap begins to move, and the outline of his bulge appears.
“Oh, hello.” I grin.
He reaches, yanking off the towel and revealing his perfect cock in all it’s engorged glory. I’m still in nothing but a white t-shirt from last night. It’s all too convenient.
I scoot up on his lap, rising up and lowering myself onto him. He fills me, his hands gripping my hips as I rock back and forth. Yanking off my t-shirt, I press my breasts against his warm skin.
It doesn’t matter that we’re right next to the window.
I’m fucking Titan, and I want the world to know I’m his.
His hot lips press into my flesh, leaving a series of searing kisses along my collarbone and trailing up the underside of my jaw. My eyes close as I enjoy the pressure, pleasure, and pain cocktail between my thighs, and my lips find his once again. He takes my lower lip between his teeth, biting and releasing, and my breasts bounce as our bodies glide.
“You’re mine, Jordana,” he growls softly. “Everything about you. Your body, your mind…I own it. No one else can have you…”
I don’t argue. His stark declaration only serves to make me hotter, wetter. I bounce harder, his words playing on a loop inside my head.
Yes…yes…yes…
I am his.
I belong to him.
I am wanted.
Titan Blackstone wants me. Nothing else matters. I’ll go to the ends of the earth to make sure his freedom is secured, because in the end, his freedom is my freedom. Titan freed me of a life of oppression, a life of living someone else’s dream and fitting into someone else’s box of ideals.
If he’s locked up and sent away, it’ll be the end of me. The end of this beautiful, freeing life I was just beginning to fall in love with.
We belong together. I’ll protect that until the day I die.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX - TITAN
“Not fighting anymore. I’m done.” My words aren’t well received that morning, at least I assume so judging by the look on Kyle’s face when he hears them. “Not getting roped into this shit anymore. One of your cronies set me up.”
I punch a finger into Kyle’s shoulder and his face twists.
“I ain’t got nothing to do with any of this,” he says. “Better be real careful who you go blaming around here.”
“Yeah. Apparently.” I huff. “Whoever set me up knows I work here. Had a shirt made that looks just like this.”
I tug on the gray fabric of my button-down.
“You try telling me I wasn’t set up,” I say.
“I think you’re overreacting,” he says. “You were locked up for years. I thought all these attacks were related or some shit? Couldn’t have been you.”
“Cops don’t know for sure if they’re interconnected. They just want to pin the crime on someone. Shut the book. Makes ‘em look good.”
“Well, if you didn’t do it, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
“I’m done,” I say. “I mean it, Kyle. I’m done.”
“I’ll fight,” KJ ambles past, scratching behind his dopey ears.
Kyle lets out a belly laugh, and for the first time ever I detect a hint of something dark behind KJ’s eyes.
“Maybe if you’d give me a chance once in a fuckin’ while,” KJ spits.
“Not trying to watch you get your ass beat,” Kyle says.
“Like you give a shit.” KJ shakes his head, snorting. “You never gave two shits about me. You treated fucking Thad more like a brother than you ever treated me.”
“Don’t bring him into this.” Kyle’s lip quivers, but only for a split second.
KJ grabs a dirty air filter sitting on top of a nearby tool bench and hurls it at Kyle. “Still protecting him. Ain’t even alive and you still take his side over mine.”
Kyle, in all his douche bag glory, seems to be in mourning today. KJ, on the other hand, is lit like a fuse. Ready to explode at any moment. I suppose everyone handles grief differently.
“KJ, take a walk, man.” Kyle shakes his head before making his way across the garage. “Show some fucking respect. He’s fucking family…”
His voice trails, mumbles, and then becomes inaudible.
The shop is pretty much dead today. Ever since the local newspaper plastered my likeness and place of employment all over their front page as a suspect, people seem to be staying away.
“You okay?” I ask, slipping hand over Kyle’s bony shoulder. He jerks away from me and reaches for a wrench before stepping under a hoisted mini van. “All right then.”
Terry pushes through the side door, making a rare appearance. His face is grief-stricken, but his body is terse and tight. A balled up shirt is in his hands.
“Somebody wanna tell me what this was doing in the dumpster behind the shop?”
KJ and I look at each other before studying the scrunched up shirt. Terry holds up a shirt that matches mine, right down to the name tag.
“Why would you throw away a perfectly good work shirt?” Terry’s question is directed at me.
My brows furrow. “Uh, my shirts are all at home. I can go get the other three if you need proof.”
“Other three? You should’ve been given five.” he says. “All my guys get five.”
I shake my head. “I got four.”
Kyle makes his way back from the far side of the garage, his arms folding as he keeps a safe distance.
“This is your shirt, is it not?” Terry asks. It’s like he can’t comprehend the fact that I was only given four by one of his moron sons the first day I started.
“It is not, sir,” I say.
“So who the hell had your fifth shirt?” he asks.
“Excellent question.” I rotate behind, throwing a look to Kyle.
His hands protest. “Don’t look at me.”
The four of us are quiet, and almost in unison, we glance at KJ. He stands, fidgeting, and staring at the dirty concrete floor. He chews the inside of his lip, his eyes twitching every couple seconds.
There’s…no way.
It couldn’t be.
“KJ.” Terry clears his throat, stepping closer to his youngest son. “What do you know about this shirt?”
Terry was none-to-pleased when the cops showed up yesterday and hauled me away for questioning, and he was relieved as hell when I showed back up as a free man with a clean alibi.
But this? This crumpled up shirt? It’s a gam
e changer.
“Answer me, boy.” His voice booms, jolting all three of us at once.
KJ says nothing. In his attempt to leave, his father grabs his shirt and yanks him in, getting in his face.
“It’s you, ain’t it, boy?” There’s something about hearing a tremble in a grown man’s voice that sends a quake to your insides. “Why?”
KJ’s thin shoulders fall, and his father releases him. He looks to his older brother, then to me, the man he set up to take the fall after attempts to set up his brother fell through.
It all makes sense. KJ telling me he thought it was Kyle. The attacker wearing one of my shirts.
I push past the three Rasmussens and head toward the front desk.
“Where you going?” Kyle calls out.
As much as I’d like to beat the living shit out of KJ for setting me up…for hurting people…for fucking murdering people…
I’m not about to go back to prison.
He’s not worth it.
I don’t answer Kyle. Instead, I rip off my work shirt and let it fall to the floor before exiting out the front door.
The second I’m my truck, I speed away and call the cops.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN – JORDANA
“So what’s next?” I lay across his chest that night, tracing his bare skin with a polished fingertip. “Huh, Titan? What’s next for us.”
He smiles a rare, tepid smile.
“How can you smile right now?” I ask. “You quit your job. I lost my internship. We don’t have any money. My mom won’t speak to me right now.”
“You think you’re at an all time low?” he asks, raking his ringers through my hair. They get snarled in my curls but he leaves them anyway.
“Feels like it, yeah.”
“Well, I’m at an all time high,” he says. “That’s how come I’m smiling right now.”
I press my ear against his chest, listening to the slow thrum of his heartbeat and breathing him in.
“Do you think KJ killed Jerome?” I ask.
He’s quiet for a moment, and his chest rises as he draws in a slow breath.
“I hope so,” he says. “I mean, only because you and your mom need closure.”
