by M. Leighton
“Damn, this thing weighs a ton. What do you have in here, a body?”
Sloane slides out from behind the wheel, grinning up at me. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
A tense silence falls down between us as we walk up the cobblestone driveway toward the front door.
“This is beautiful,” Sloane says as she looks up at the two-story entry of the Mediterranean style structure.
“Thanks.”
“Yours?”
“Of course it’s mine. We don’t just pick a house and make ourselves at home.”
Sloane rolls her eyes. “I know that, smart ass. I was asking if you own it.”
“No, it’s a rental, nosey.”
“Hey, you can’t blame a girl for trying. You’re so secretive. I know very little about you. I don’t even know your last name, for God’s sake.”
I stop in front of the quietly babbling fountain that sits to the left of the front door. “Does that bother you?”
She shrugs, but doesn’t meet my eyes. “No.”
“Liar.”
Her eyes fly to mine. “No, seriously. Everyone is entitled to their secrets.”
“But?”
“No, buts,” she says, looking down again as I step toward her.
“What are your secrets, Sloane,” I ask, hooking my finger under her chin to lift until she’s forced to look at me.
“If I told you, they wouldn’t be secrets, now, would they?”
I search her face. She’s beautiful and innocent and somehow mysterious. She hides a lot. I can tell. And I think she’s seen a lot. I can tell that, too. Maybe a lot of pain. Too much for someone like her. For some reason, it makes me want to take it away. And it makes me feel like shit that I might be bringing her more.
“I guess not,” I reply softly. “But those aren’t the important things anyway, are they? You know me, whether you know my last name and my life story or not. And I know you. I know that you’re strong and willful, and that you taste like honey when you melt in my hand.”
I see the change in her eyes. I see them get smoky with heat, heat from the things I’m saying to her, things I’m thinking about. Things I should be keeping to myself. Especially when I’m going to be spending the night with her.
“Hemi, I—”
I cut her off before she can finish her sentence. I shouldn’t have started us down this road. And now I’m desperate to change the trajectory.
“Are you sure you want to be here? I mean, your father did almost get shot up tonight. It wasn’t my intention to take you away from your family if you felt you needed to be there with them.”
I see the change again, this time to worry. And awareness. And regret. And guilt. I’m an asshole. A selfish asshole who needs to clear his conscience. To save her from one disaster, I hit her in the face with unfair and unwarranted guilt. That’s a pretty shitty thing to do. But evidently, I’m a pretty shitty guy.
“I…I never thought of it like that. I mean, I knew they would all just want to know I’m safe, but…oh God, what if something happens during the night?” I see the fear ease into panic. “What if Scout never made it back? Oh my God, what if those people come back? To finish what they started?”
Her big, liquid eyes, round with worry, rise to mine. She’s asking me for comfort. And reassurance. From the concern that I alone just brought to her and laid at her feet. And now, as perverse as it sounds, I feel compelled to give it to her. To erase that unsettled look of fear that’s marring her beautiful face.
“Only cowards pull a stunt like the one that happened tonight. And cowards don’t come back right away. Not when their targets are on the lookout. Prepared. And you’re right. Your father and your brothers would want you to be safe, first and foremost. Without having to worry about you, they can focus on the task at hand, put all their attention where it needs to be.”
Sloane slowly starts to nod her head. Then she closes her eyes, no doubt against the horrific images I put there, images of her family bleeding to death from gunshot wounds as they sit on the couches and lie in their beds at her house.
Yeah, I’m definitely a shitty guy.
“Come on. You can call them and see what’s going on. And tonight, you’ll be safe. You’ll be safe here. With me. As long as you need to be.”
As I start through the house, Sloane following along behind me, I barely hear her question. “Hemi, what about Sasha?”
I stop, turning to frown down at her. “What about Sasha?”
She shrugs. “Well, I know you said it was nothing now, but it used to be, and I just wondered if she knows that. I mean, why is she back?”
I step closer to Sloane, moving her hair away from one side of her face. “She ran into some money troubles back home. She’s just working at the shop until she can get back on her feet. That’s it. Nothing more. And yes, she knows that, too. Sasha has nothing to do with…anything.”
I can see the relief on her face. I wonder how long she’s been chewing on that, worrying it over and over in her head. If I had to guess, I’d say for quite a while. For her to consider it now, tonight, with everything else that has happened…
She nods and smiles, and I know she feels better, so I turn to continue on up the stairs.
I show Sloane to the largest of the four guest rooms. It’s not a huge house, nothing compared to what I’m used to, but it’s a lot bigger than hers. I’m not surprised that she’s impressed.
“Wow! This is, like, three times bigger than my room at home.”
I set her bag on the chaise at the end of the king sized bed. “I hope you’ll be comfortable here then. I want you to make yourself at home. Anything in the house—the pool, the hot tub, the sauna, the gym, the kitchen—whatever you need, is yours.”
“Thank you for bringing me here, Hemi. I really appreciate it. And you not…not…”
“Not what? Taking your things to my room?” I see her cheeks pinken and I know I’m right on the money. “Sloane, this is a tough time for you. I would never presume that you’d want to spend your night with me.” I see her swallow uncomfortably, which makes me want to put her at ease. “That’s not to say that I couldn’t work a little magic on you, make you want to spend the night with me.” I grin at her and she grins back. “But that would be highly inappropriate. So, tonight, hands off.” I raise my hands to punctuate what I’m saying.
Sloane walks to the bed and trails her fingers along the luxurious white duvet. “Does that mean you might consider staying in here with me for a while?” she asks in a tiny voice. “I just…I just don’t want to be alone yet.”
“Of course,” I say, moving to her side. I run my hand down her back until she turns toward me, tilting her face up to mine. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep. How’s that?”
I can see by her faltering smile that she wishes I’d offered more, but that she’s happy with what she got. I warned her…
“Sounds good. As long as it doesn’t put you out.”
“Holding a hot woman in my arms? Ummm, no. It won’t put me out.” I bend to brush my lips across hers. “It’s late. Why don’t you do what you need to do to get ready for bed? And I’ll be right back.”
She nods again and unzips her bag. I’m not at all surprised when, within a few seconds of my departure, I hear her on the telephone, no doubt checking in with her father. While Sloane might want to have a little freedom and spread her wings, she’s obviously close to her family. And it would break her heart if something happened to one of them. Even if one is a rat-bastard, dirty cop.
So where the hell does that leave me?
I go through the house, checking all the doors, downing a quick beer, waiting for Sloane to get ready, giving her room to breathe. When I make my way back upstairs, I’m well aware of the nearly-painful hard-on that’s straining at my zipper. Inappropriate or not, if she pushes me very much tonight, I’ll take what I want with no regrets.
It’s with no small amount of disappointment that I walk into Sloane’s bedro
om to find her sound asleep, curled on her side under the covers.
I snap off the lights and start to back out of the room. Sloane makes a noise. It’s nothing intelligible, like a word or a name; it’s just a noise. I walk back to stand beside the bed, looking down at her. I see the space between her body and the edge of the bed. I might never know what the hell would possess me to kick off my shoes, slide under the covers and stretch out beside her, but that’s exactly what I do.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE- Sloane
It’s a good thing it’s my turn to drive to school this week. Sarah would’ve been quite surprised had she pulled up in front of my house to get me and seen what a shambles it is.
“Ohmigod, you can’t be serious!” she exclaims when I tell her what happened.
“Who’d make that shit up?”
“I don’t know. The mafia. The devil. Obama.”
I look over at her wide grin. I shake my head. “No, I’m not making it up. It was…crazy.”
“So how are the brothers Locke this morning? Are they circling the wagons?”
“Of course. Scout lost the car he was following. He suspected it might be the one, but we got there just a little too late to be sure. Steven was working a case, so he was stuck at work all night. I’m sure he was a lot of fun to be around. And Sig…well, you know how he is. He’ll probably spend tonight sitting on the front porch, drinking beer, with a shotgun in his lap.”
“Grinning.”
“Yeah, grinning. I’m sure he thinks it’s funny.”
“That boy’s got a messed up sense of humor.”
“He’s sick. But, you know, if someone had been hurt, he’d be twice as hard to deal with as Steven. He’s got a fierce temper when it gets stirred up.”
“Well at least you didn’t have to stick around for all the drama.”
“And I bet there was quite a bit. I would love to have been a fly on the wall when Dad told them I wasn’t staying at the house last night. I bet there was a lot of colorful language. And I bet not one of them said ‘frick’ even once.”
“Speaking of last night, how long are you going to pretend it’s no big deal that you spent the night with Hemi the Hottie?”
“I’m not pretending. Unfortunately, it’s just true that it wasn’t a big deal. At least not like you’re thinking.”
“What?” she asks indignantly. “What the hell is wrong with him? How can a guy like that pass up the perfect opportunity to get in your pants?”
I have wondered—and worried over—the exact same thing since last night.
“He didn’t want to take advantage of the situation. Plus, I fell asleep.”
“You fell asleep? God, Sloane, what’s it gonna take to fire your lady parts up? Jumper cables and Vaseline?”
“I kind of had a big day, Sarah.”
“I know, but damn! Look at that guy.”
I sigh, the image of Hemi’s perfect face and perfect body drifting through my head for the millionth time.
“I know. And you know what the worst part was?”
“There’s worse?”
I nod. “When I woke up this morning, he was in bed with me. He was lying on his side, facing me, like he’d fallen asleep watching over me last night.”
I see Sarah’s mouth drop open.
“Sloane, that’s not the worst part. That’s the best part! What if this guy really has feelings for you? What if it’s not just sexual?”
“I wish that were true, but what if it’s not? What if he’s just lost interest?”
I would be devastated. Just devastated. And not only if he lost interest, but if I found out that he really doesn’t have feelings for me. Not like I do for him.
I’d be heartbroken.
“Sloane, men don’t do things like this for girls they’ve lost interest in. They smile politely, maybe open the door for you and then they get the hell out of dodge. Not pack you up and bring you home with them for the night, then fall asleep beside you. That sounds like serious shit to me.”
I resist the urge to close my eyes and revel in her words. And pray that she’s right.
“I hope it is. I guess I’m just afraid to read too much into it.”
“Why? You’re the one who’s always talking about spreading your wings and taking chances and experiencing new things. You can’t do any of that and not risk a little heartache.”
“But what if it’s not a little heartache? What if it’s like total wreckage?”
“Then you have to squeeze every good minute out of this that you can so that when you look back, it doesn’t kill you to remember.”
“That makes no sense whatsoever. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I know. But it sounded good.” Neither of us says anything for a few miles. It’s not until I’m turning into the parking lot that Sarah speaks again. “So what’s the deal now? Are you going back over there?”
“I don’t know.”
“Didn’t he say anything about it this morning?”
“I don’t know. I didn’t see him.”
“I thought you spent the night wrapped up in his arms.”
“I did. But he’s…he’s said before that he’s not the ‘breakfast’ type. I didn’t really know if he’d want to see me this morning, so I crawled out of bed, took a quick shower and left.”
“You just left? Just like that?”
“Well, I left a note.”
“That said?”
“’Thank you for keeping me safe’.”
“Damn that’s cold.”
“How is that cold? I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. And I didn’t want to look like a pathetic fool.”
“Good point. And maybe it’s best to keep him guessing. You know, play it a little mysterious.”
I snort. “Yeah, because I’m verrry mysterious.”
I think immediately of Sasha. Now she’s mysterious. And she’s the kind of girl Hemi likes. The kind he’s used to. Attracted to. The kind he had breakfast with.
“Sloane, there’s obviously something about you that he’s drawn to. Who gives a shit what it is? Just go with it. Use what you’ve got and play this to the bone. You’ll regret it if you don’t. I promise you that.”
“Don’t make promises,” I mutter reflexively.
Sarah sighs. “How did I know you were going to say that?”
“Because I’m right. And we both know it.”
Removing the key from the ignition, Sarah and I walk toward the quad. She goes one way and I go the other when the sidewalk splits.
“See ya in a few,” she says in her chipper way.
I nod and smile, suddenly losing all enthusiasm for the day.
CHAPTER THIRTY- Hemi
I can’t decide what’s dumber than shit—going to see Sloane’s dad or thinking so much about how to talk him into letting her stay with me. Not that she can’t decide that for herself, but I don’t want to ask her to stay. I don’t know why, but I don’t. That would be like admitting too much. To both Sloane and to myself. I just can’t get involved with her. It wouldn’t be right. But if I were helping her out…doing a kindness to her and her family…
It occurs to me that nothing I can do will absolve me of this nagging feeling of guilt. But I’m damn sure gonna try anyway. I just wish that’s all it was—guilt—that this gnawing sensation in my gut was only guilt and not something deeper, something more tender. Because that’s a shitload of trouble. For both of us.
I took a chance that he’d be at the house today. And it was a good bet, because he’s standing on the front porch, talking on the telephone when I pull up. I can see a few remnants of crime scene tape here and there in the yard. My guess is that there were people milling around here all night long, getting evidence collected and logged in and processed. This is a family of cops after all. And they certainly take care of their own. Which worries me to some degree.
He wraps up his phone call as I draw closer.
“Okay, just keep me posted,” he says before
he disconnects his cell phone. “What are you doing here?” he asks me bluntly. I can appreciate that—someone who doesn’t beat around the bush, someone who tells it like it is. Most of the people in my family are like that. Brutal honesty. I like it. Even if I don’t always give it.
“Thought I’d stop by and see if you’d figured out what happened. And to tell you Sloane got off to school okay.” The only reason I know this is because I texted her when I got up and she replied, saying she was fine, finishing up her second Thursday class.
“Good. Thank you for keeping an eye on her.”
“No problem. I’m happy to do it. I like Sloane.”
Mr. Locke narrows his eyes on me. “I can see that.” I make no comment. He can think what he wants about my interest in Sloane. I’m sure, whatever conclusion he draws, it won’t be wrong. He’s a sharp guy.
“Have you been able to figure out who’s behind this?”
“Not yet. But we will. You know about the threats Steven got. I’m sure this is connected.”
“But Steven was working last night, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So why hit the house when he’s not here, if he’s the target?”
“Oh it’s a message. And a tool. To get what they want. What they think he has.”
“Which is?”
Again, he narrows his eyes on me. “Nothing I feel comfortable discussing with you.”
I nod. “I can respect that. Here’s the thing: I’m thinking that until you and your people get this nailed down, maybe it would be best if Sloane stayed with me. I’m in a gated community. I don’t think anyone would single her out, but if they did, I don’t think they’d look for her there.”
“You’re awfully interested in my family.”
“I’m interested in Sloane. And making sure she doesn’t get caught in the cross fire.”
“And what do you get out of it?” I see the accusation and the displeasure in his eyes.
“Just knowing she’s safe.” A surge of guilt sweeps through me. That is a big part of my reasoning. But there’s more. “At least until you’ve had time to make some headway with all…this,” I say, nodding at the various holes in and around his front door. “I’m trying to be respectful, sir.”
