by River Savage
“Where's Dominic?” I ask the punk at my feet when I realize he’s not here.
“Fuck you. I’m not telling you anything.” He spits on my right boot, and it takes everything in me not to bring it back and kick him in ribs.
“House secure, suspect not here.” I finally give the all clear to officers outside. “We’re moving out.”
“You’re all fucking dead. Mark my words.” The fucker starts running his mouth as soon as we pull him to his feet and start pushing him out of the house to awaiting officers.
“Yeah, yeah. Like I haven’t heard that before.” I hand him over to Detective Tomlinson, less than impressed with his threat.
“Don’t know what happened, Hetch,” Tommy offers what he thinks I need to hear.
“Bad intel.” I shrug, not ready to give up. “We’ll get him.” I know it’s a long shot, the fucker seems to be a ghost, but I’m not giving up.
The longer he keeps evading us, the longer Liberty stays in danger.
I’m going to get him.
And when we do, I’ll enjoy every fucking second of it.
I can guarantee it.
“You heading to The Elephant tonight?” Sterling asks an hour later when I’m filling out my reports from the earlier raid. While it was a clean bust, and the narcotics unit were able to seize a fuckload of drugs and guns after we left, I’m still pissed we didn’t get a lock on Dominic.
So much for Victor’s intel.
“Nah, I have plans.” I don’t reveal more than that. Sterling is the last person who needs to know I have a date. The fucker will read too much into it.
“Things must be getting serious with Liberty, hardly see you around.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” I place my signature on the last document. I’m not in the mood for his shit tonight, not when I’m still pissed about Dominic.
“Sure you don’t. Will you be bringing her tomorrow?” he asks, still not giving up on it.
“What’s tomorrow?” I file my paperwork and stand from my desk. My shift is over and I have a date to get ready for.
Fuck, a date. The thought should freak me out, but it doesn’t.
“Your mom has the brunch thing going on. Don’t tell me you forgot.”
Fuck.
“No, I remember. I just didn't know you were coming.” I cover my lie with a statement.
“Your mom invited me.” I nod. Of course she did. “That a problem?” His tone has me looking up.
“Has it ever been?” I give it back. I don’t know if he’s pissed at my evasiveness regarding Liberty or he’s got his own shit going on, but I’m not in the fucking mood.
“What the hell’s your problem, bro? You’re dating the neighbor, just admit it.”
“What the fuck does it matter to you?” I ask, still unsure why I’m keeping it on the down low. It’s not like it’s a big deal. Yeah, I’ve dated before. Maybe not in a long time, but I have dated exclusively. I’m just not ready to share it with the world yet.
“It doesn’t, Hetch. I just don’t get the secrecy to it.”
“You mean like the way you are with my sister?” I'm an ass. I know it. Giving him shit about Kota isn't cool, but if he’s looking for a reaction, then he has it.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” His body goes rigid, his stance defensive.
“You wanted to play it this way.” I shrug like it’s no big deal, but I know I crossed a line.
“No, I want to know what the fuck you mean?” His hands fist at his sides and I almost laugh at his discomfort, but I don’t.
“Sterling, you and I both know you're in love with Kota.” I lay it out for him, no judgment, no accusations. Just pure truth.
“The fuck I am.” He recoils, and I almost believe him. Almost second-guess how I've read the situation all these years.
If only he didn't get so defensive.
“Whatever you say, Sterling.”
“I'm not in love with your sister,” he repeats, his brow dipping in a deep scowl.
“Whatever, you keep telling yourself that.” I offer a quick wave and make my way out to my truck.
I'm done. It’s not my business. If they want to dance around the huge elephant in the room, they can have at it.
The drive home seems longer than normal. Running over my conversation with Sterling, I soon start to feel like an ass. I know some brothers may not be okay with their best friends going after their sister, but it's not like that with Sterling. When I say he's the best guy I know, I mean it. Kota couldn't do any better.
By the time I pull up to my apartment, my guilt has me reaching for my phone and calling Sterling. He doesn’t answer, so I leave a message.
“I’m a fucking ass. Can’t go out ‘cause I’ve got a date with Liberty. Fuck me. I can’t believe I just admitted that to you. Don’t be an ass about it. See you tomorrow.” My guilt doesn’t subside right off the bat, but when I notice Liberty’s car home earlier than expected, it soon fades.
I collect my mail and then take the steps two at a time.
Forgetting my apartment, I shove the mail into my back pocket and head right for her door, knocking with my standard force.
Yeah, we have a date tonight, but my need to see her now wins out.
Liberty opens her door, a huge smile on her face when she sees me.
Fuck, imagine coming home to her every day?
Whoa, calm down, fucker.
I push the thoughts out of my head and nudge her backward. Before she can argue, I kick her door closed, pick her up, and stalk to her bathroom.
“What are you doing, you big lug?” She laughs, trying to wiggle her way out of my arms.
“You and I have a date tonight.”
“I know. I’m about to start getting ready for it.”
“I need a shower.”
“Don’t you have your own shower next door?”
“Yeah, but I like yours better,” I tell her, placing her on top of the vanity.
“What makes mine different?” she questions as I reach into her shower and turn the faucet on.
“It has you in it, sweetheart.” I step back between her legs and finally kiss her. She responds immediately, wrapping her arms and legs around me.
“I want those lips around my cock.” I moan against her mouth.
“Is that right? She pulls back and rips her dress over her head, revealing one of her sexy, white lace bras and matching panties.
“Yeah, then I want to fuck you.” I drop my pants and step out of them.
“Maybe if you can make me come with your talented tongue a couple times, I’ll wrap my lips around this big cock of yours.” She reaches down and tightens her grip around my painfully erect cock.
“Has anyone ever told you, you’re a greedy little thing?”
“Only you.” She laughs a carefree laugh, and I make a promise to myself that for every day I know her, I’ll try to make her laugh like that again.
“Did you always want to be a police officer?” Liberty asks a couple of hours later while we’re seated at the back table of Il Centro Restaurant and Bar, one of the finest Italian restaurants in Trebook.
I was lucky to get a table at such short notice. Fox managed to pull it off for me when I remembered his uncle is part owner. Even though I don’t like owing anyone anything, it’s still worth every bit of annoyance just to see Liberty done up. I nearly busted a fucking nut when she opened the door earlier. After fucking her in the shower, I cleaned her up and left her to get dressed. I had only been gone for thirty minutes. I wasn’t expecting her to be ready when I returned. I sure as hell wasn’t expecting her to look so fucking amazing. I almost didn’t want to leave the apartment with her looking so fucking sexy.
A red wraparound dress molds to her body. The low cleavage makes my dick jump every time she leans forward, giving me the perfect view of her soft skin. Her short blonde curls are messy, but in a perfected kind of way. And her fuckable lips are painted the same red she wor
e the night I met her.
Fuck me. She’s a walking hard-on.
“Not always.” I clear my throat, shaking the image of those red lips wrapped around my cock away. “I actually wanted to be a youth worker for a while there,” I admit, unsure why. Normally if someone asks me the same question, I always say it’s been a childhood dream to join the force.
Fucking hell.
“Wow, you’re serious.” She sits up a little straighter at my confession.
“My dad was a youth worker.” I keep my voice steady. Controlled. Even.
“Was? What does he do now?” It’s the first tidbit of my personal life I’ve shared with her. The last two weeks we’ve spent learning all about each other’s bodies, no private details. And while it’s not by any means a new way of life for me, it is a stepping stone. Or maybe a pebble.
“He’s dead.” The words are like acid coming out of my throat.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She reaches across the table and covers my hand with her small one. My heart rate shouldn’t be spiked, but it is.
“Don’t be.” I pull out of her grasp and reach for my beer. “It was a while ago.” I don’t know why I thought it would be okay to talk about him.
It’s never okay.
“I can picture it, you know? You with the kids, helping them out.” She moves the subject along, and I don’t want to be grateful for it, but I am. “Is that why you’re interested in coming to the house and talking to Mitch?” I don’t want to tell her the truth. That maybe I only want to do it for her. Maybe my need to keep her safe is more than I actually understand. My need to protect her is no longer about my dick, but about her welfare. I don’t want to tell her any of that, so I nod instead and then change the subject.
“Everything good with getting clearance for me to come around?” Yesterday after I left Liberty’s office, she started the process of adding me onto the approved visitors’ list.
“Yeah, we’ll need to go over everything with you, but then you’ll be good to go.”
“Good, just let me know when and I’ll be there.” I wasn’t lying when I told Liberty I would help with Mitch. I know he’s a good kid. Know how much Liberty cares for him. And if me coming to the house to hang with him once a week helps him realize he doesn’t need to walk down the path Dominic is paving for him, then why wouldn’t I do it?
“Do you want to come by tomor— Oh, my God.” Her sudden change in tone and the way her body recoils has my gaze moving around the restaurant looking for the threat.
“Liberty?” I ask when she stands and slaps her napkin down on the table.
“I’m gonna fucking kill him.”
I don’t have a chance to ask her what she means and who the fuck the he is she plans to kill before she’s halfway across the restaurant, getting up in some guy’s face.
Well, shit. Here we go.
Sixteen
Liberty
“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
“Liberty?” Jett has the audacity to look guilty as I come to a stop at his table.
“Don’t Liberty me.” I point my glare at the little whore who’s the cause of my best friend’s heartache. “Where's Payton, Jett? You know, your wife?” The smug little bitch turns her nose up at me as soon as Payton’s name leaves my mouth.
“Liberty, please don’t make a scene here.” Jett stands and wraps his fingers around my wrist, pulling me away from his table.
“I told Payton not to trust you. I can’t believe you would be so stupid.” His grip tightens the louder my voice rises. I don’t care we’re in some fancy-ass restaurant. My no-good fucking brother is still the slime ball I thought he was.
“Shut the fuck up. It's not what it looks like.”
“Let go of me. I know what it looks like.” I try to pull out of his grasp, but he holds tighter.
“You can’t tell Payton. I need more time,” the asshole says.
Ha! Fuck that.
“I’m not going to lie to your wife. My best friend. Are you fucking mad?” The table we’re standing close to gasps at my choice of words, but I don’t have it in me to be embarrassed.
“I swear, Lib—” he begins but doesn't get another word in because Hetch is there and in his face.
“Get your fucking hands off her now.” His voice brings the rest of the restaurant which had yet to notice the tension to a standstill.
“Fuck off. She's my sister. This is family business.” Jett puffs his chest out, attempting to intimidate Hetch. Only I know it won’t work.
“I don't give a fuck who you are to her. Get your hands off her now.”
“Hetch, it’s okay.” I try to reason with him when I notice the manager walking our way.
“Who is this asshole, Liberty?” my stupid brother asks, only serving to piss Hetch off more.
“Don’t talk to her. You’re talking to me.”
“Listen—” Jett begins but doesn’t finish when one minute he's standing in front of me and the next he's being dragged out of the restaurant, hands restrained behind his back. I don’t have a chance to cry out and ask what Hetch is doing before he’s pushing him out the front entrance and onto the sidewalk.
“Hetch.” I race after them, pushing through the door just in time to see him thrust Jett up against the side of the restaurant.
“Hetch, it’s okay. He won’t hurt me. He’s my dipshit brother.” Hetch’s gaze moves off my brother and turns to me.
“No one fucking touches you,” he simply says before turning back to Jett.
Holy fuck, I should be annoyed he practically just pissed on me like a dog marking his territory, but I can’t even begin to be. Possessive Hetch is hot as fuck.
“I don’t give a fuck if you’re her brother. You put your hands on her again, you and I are gonna have problems. Understand?” Jett nods, and then flinches as Hetch jerks him away from the building by his arm, and slaps him hard on the back.
“What the fuck, Liberty? You're seeing this guy?” He rubs at his arm, not giving a shit said guy is still standing there in his space.
“Not like it's any of your business, but yes,” I answer, watching Hetch for any response.
“Hetch, meet my stupid brother, Jett. Jett this is Hetch.”
“Can’t say it's a pleasure.” Jett gives him a once over, but Hetch doesn’t react.
“You good here?” Hetch walks toward me, lightly touching my arm.
“Yeah. Can you give us a minute?” He looks reluctant to leave me, but I offer what I hope is a reassuring smile. It must soothe him because he leans down and gently presses his lips to my forehead before letting me know he’ll wait inside. I attempt another reassuring smile, but give up when he shakes his head at me and heads back inside.
“Seriously, Liberty? You're seeing this douche?” Jett gingerly steps forward, now rubbing his wrist.
“The only douche I see here is you. What the fuck is wrong with you? What was all that shit at Mom and Dad's last week?”
“It's over. I swear.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Don't give me that bullshit, Jett.” I won’t play into his lies. I know what I see, know from experiences.
“She's pregnant,” he whispers, knocking all fight out of me.
Fuck.
“Is it yours?” I wouldn’t put it past the little whore to pull this shit.
“I think so. The dates work out. We weren’t using anything.”
“You dumb jackass.” I manage to work through my shock, rage, and nausea.
“She's keeping it.”
I don't respond immediately. My mind is still reeling. What is there to say? I can’t be angry she doesn’t want to abort a child. “Does Payton know?”
“Jesus, no. We’re still trying to figure things out.”
“What’s there to figure out, Jett? Your wife needs to know this.”
“I know, Liberty. But I need more time.” He runs a shaky hand over his face.
“Jett, you have done some pretty fucking
stupid things the last few months, but keeping this from Payton rates as top. Time isn’t going to help you. You need to go home right now and tell her.”
“Or what, you'll tell her?” He scoffs, knowing me well.
“Damn straight I will. She deserves to know. If you keep this from her, I’ll hate you more than I do right now.”
“You don't mean that, Bertie.” The nickname stirs nothing in me. But instead of being upset about it, it just makes me angrier.
“I do, Jett. You have fucked up over and over with her. Hurt her and Arabella repeatedly, and now this. You need to be honest.”
“I didn't mean to hurt her or Ara. You don’t understand.” It almost sounds like a whine, and I want to bitch slap it out of him.
“You’re right. I don’t understand. You had a good thing. The perfect family, work, life. And you fucked up. I don’t know why she took you back, but she did, and now you’re keeping this from her. I don’t feel sorry for you, Jett. I feel sorry for Pay and Arabella. Tell her tonight or I will.” I turn and leave him standing there, walking back inside to a waiting Hetch.
“You okay?” He takes me in his arms, holding me while I try to keep my emotions in check. Part of me wants to go to Payton right now, lay it all out for her. But another part of me can’t stomach being the bearer of this news. I hope to God Jett tells her ’cause there is no way I can keep this to myself.
Jesus, what am I gonna do?
When I don’t answer, Hetch grabs the attention of the waitress.
“Can we get our food to go?” lf she's confused, she doesn't say anything, just tells him no problem.
“We don’t have to leave. I’m fine. Promise.” He knows it’s a lie, but doesn’t call me on it.
“It's fine, sweetheart. I don’t wanna sit and eat while you’re looking the way you’re looking. You need to go to your girl?” He pulls out his wallet when the waitress comes back with some takeout containers.
“No. But maybe later.”
“Okay, come on, let’s get out of here.” He tucks me under his arm, maneuvering me out the door and past a very sick-looking Jett. I ignore him and the slight ache that settles in my stomach seeing him so distraught, and allow Hetch to give me the comfort of his embrace as he walks me over to his truck.
