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Damaged Goods: The Redemption Series

Page 13

by L. Wilder


  “You’re right, but… I’m trying here, Tristen.” He looked at me with such emotion in his eyes that it made my heart ache for him. “I know I have a lot to learn about all this stuff. You’re gonna have to teach me.”

  Hearing those words tugged at my heart. His sincerity was just another reason that I found myself falling for him even more. I lifted up on my tiptoes, pressing my lips against his in a kiss, then I said, “We’ll learn together.”

  With that, he took my hand and led me down the hall. We never left the house that night. Instead, we took a long, hot shower together and spent the night in bed, making love, and holding each other close. I lay there feeling like I’d made some real progress with him. We’d had our first argument, and he’d actually listened when I talked to him. I thought we might have a real chance after all. I fell asleep with a smile on my face, happy and content in Nathan’s arms. The next morning, I woke to find Nathan shuffling around the room. He was buttoning his white collared shirt when I sat up in the bed and asked, “What time is it?”

  “It’s early, Angel. Go back to sleep.”

  Just as I was about to lay back down, I noticed his black, duffle bag sitting on the floor. “Are you going somewhere?”

  “I’ve got to go out of town for the day, but I’m planning to be back later tonight.” He walked over to the bed, then leaned over to kiss me. “If you need anything, Max will be around. Just let him know whatever you need.”

  He started for the door, but stopped when I called out to him. “Nathan?” When he turned to face me, I wanted to tell him that I loved him, that I’d never felt that way before, but I couldn’t form the words. I don’t know what stopped me. Maybe it was the fear of scaring him off or finally admitting my feelings out loud. Either way, the risk was just too great. For the moment, I had to keep my feelings to myself. “Have a safe trip.”

  You never know how damaged you are until you try to share your life with another person. I’d lived in my own world, by my own rules, and I’d never given a fuck who I hurt in the process. It’s who I was, but when I saw the anguish on Tristen’s face, when I realized I’d hurt her, it was like a knife to the chest. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to fix it, even if that meant diving into a fucking dumpster to go after her stuff. Thankfully, I found her things and managed to smooth things over, but the whole episode left me with an unsettling feeling. I started to think that I was too screwed up to make things work with her. I’d thought if I protected her and cared for her, gave her everything she could possibly want, it would be enough, but it wasn’t. It was going to take more, much more, and I wasn’t sure I had it to give.

  For the time being, though, I had to put my doubts aside and focus on the day ahead. Ryder and I were on the plane headed to California, and I was feeling a little uneasy. I’d never been a fan of flying. Being cooped up in a little space almost 40,000 feet up in the air just wasn’t exactly appealing to me. I looked over to Ryder sprawled out in his chair, eyes closed and completely relaxed, and I felt a tinge of jealousy. While he looked happy as a fucking lark, I was wound tight as a drum, and I just wanted to get the hell off that plane. I reached for a magazine, hoping it might distract me, and started thumbing through the pages. It didn’t work, and I grew more tense by the minute.

  Without opening his eyes, Ryder asked, “You doing okay over there, boss?”

  “Doing just fine, asshole.”

  “Just checking. You look a little stiff.”

  “I said I was fine, smartass.”

  “Good.” He turned and looked at me as he asked, “You reckon we could talk about the plan for today?”

  “We’ve got the meet with Dayton.”

  “Whatcha think of this guy?”

  “I have my doubts about tying up with him.”

  “Any reason why?”

  “Just got a feeling. I’ll know more after we have a face to face.”

  “Where are you meeting this guy?”

  “A restaurant out south. We’ll need to get there early. I want eyes on him the minute he shows up.”

  “You got it.” He leaned his head back against the chair and closed his eyes. “Give me a heads up when we get there.”

  The motherfucker slept the rest of the flight and even through the landing. Once the plane had stopped, I gave him a quick jab with my elbow and said, “We’re here.”

  With a quick nod, he grabbed our bags from the overhead compartment and headed off the plane. I’d called ahead and arranged for us to have a rental for the drive over to the restaurant. I went over to the desk and got the keys, and Ryder followed me out to the SUV. He put our luggage in the back and got in the driver’s seat. “Where to, boss?”

  “Head out on the interstate. We’ll need to go to the south end of Sacramento.” I leaned back and closed my eyes. “It’s about ten minutes from here. Let me know when we get close.”

  “Hold up. What’s the name of the restaurant?”

  “The Firehouse.”

  “Okay. I think I know the place.”

  With all the traffic and Ryder’s inability to follow the GPS, the drive took longer than expected. We were still relatively early, giving us both time to give the place a once over. It was an old fire station that they’d converted into a restaurant, and over the years it had become a hot spot in the area. I’d been there a time or two before and knew you could choose to eat out in the courtyard or in one of the many different dining rooms. I opted to sit in the bar. It had the best view of the entire restaurant, so I would be able to see Dayton the moment he walked in. I’d reserved a table in one of the smaller dining rooms and left word with the maître d’ to have him wait for me at the table. That would give me a chance to check him out before I actually approached him.

  I’d just finished my gin and tonic when Ryder sent me a text message letting me know that Dayton had arrived. When Dayton stepped through the door, I immediately recognized him from the picture in his file. He was much shorter than me, about five-seven and as round as he was tall. Even though it was nearly ninety degrees outside, he was wearing a black suit with his coat buttoned, trying to hide his large gut. His thinning hair was combed to the side, and his goatee came to a point at the end of his chin. He looked like a younger, Californian-version of Colonel Sanders as one of the waiters led him over to our table. His three men, who were also wearing dark suits, dispersed throughout the room, but they didn’t go far. Each of them was standing close by in case something went wrong. The guy was playing it smart, which was a good sign, but it hadn’t eased my doubts about him. I waited until he’d ordered a drink before I walked over to the table and sat down.

  He gave me the once over and then snickered, “You must be the infamous Mr. Nitro.”

  “Nitro will suffice.”

  “Well, it’s an honor to finally meet you. I’ve heard many great things about you.”

  I knew he was just blowing smoke up my ass, so I asked, “Such as?”

  “Well, things like… you’re a man who gets the job done. You don’t cut corners, and you’re dependable. I’ve been told you’re the best around.”

  “And who exactly told you that?”

  “My man, Nix. We’ve worked together for years. Well… we did until recently. As I told you on the phone, he is no longer in the business.”

  “I assume that he didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

  “No. I guess he didn’t,” he said as he motioned for the waiter. As soon as he arrived, Dayton ordered. “I’ll have the vande rose pork chop with extra butter on the potatoes, and he’ll have….”

  “Nothing. Thank you.”

  “Suit yourself.” He took a sip of his bourbon and then continued without skipping a beat. “Unfortunately, Nix ran into a little trouble. That’s why I contacted you. I was hoping you might be able to take up the slack.”

  I had no idea why, but my gut told me there was something off about the guy. Maybe it was his pompous attitude, or the way his lips curled into an evil grin whenever
he spoke, but something told me it was time to walk away from the asshole. “That’s not going to happen.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m not doing business with you, Mr. Dayton.”

  “But why?”

  “Why… isn’t important.”

  “You little piece of shit.” His face grew red and the veins in his fat neck started to bulge as he shouted, “You don’t know who you’re dealing with!”

  “You’re wrong. I know exactly who you are, Jim Dayton. I know your guy just got put away for twenty years because you fucked up.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I know this: there are no second chances in this game, and as far as you are concerned, I’m done.” As I looked over my shoulder I noticed one of his guys moving in our direction. I stood up and glared at him. “Tread lightly, Dayton. You don’t want the kind of blowback I can throw at you. Cut your losses and move on.”

  “You’re going to regret this.”

  “I doubt it, but only time will tell.” I walked off, leaving him to stew angrily as I made my way over to Ryder.

  “You done?”

  “Past done. Let’s get the hell out of here.” I was on edge as I followed Ryder out to the truck. Gaining new clients was part of the process, but it was always risky. You never knew how things would play out, but something told me I’d made the right decision walking away from Dayton. It was only a matter of time before that motherfucker ended up on the five o’clock news or dead, and I wanted no part of it.

  When we got in the truck, Ryder looked down at his watch. “We’ve got some time to kill. You up for grabbing some lunch? I’m starving.”

  “Yep. Sounds good.”

  “Pizza or tacos?”

  “Tacos.”

  “Great. I know a great place a few miles from here,” he told me as he started the truck.

  As he pulled out onto the main road, I asked, “When the hell have you been to Sacramento?”

  “My sister moved out here a couple of years ago. I come down every so often to check on her and the kids.”

  “And you take her out for tacos?”

  “Hell, no. She takes me,” he laughed. “Forewarning, the place doesn’t look like much, but they make a mean fucking taco, man.”

  He wasn’t lying when he said it wasn’t much. Hell, the place looked like it should’ve been condemned. “This is the place?”

  “The one and only.” As soon he parked the truck, he jumped out and started for the door. By the time I’d made it inside, he’d already gotten to the front of the line and was ready to place our order. “You want the special?”

  “I’ll have what you’re having.”

  “Got it.”

  I sat down in one of the booths and waited for him to bring our tray of food over. He was smiling like a kid on Christmas as he plopped down in the seat across from me. “Damn, these look even better than last time.”

  He took one of the huge tacos off his plate and took a bite. A huge smile spread across his face as his chewed. Following suit, I took one of my own and tried it, and I had to admit, they were really fucking good. Neither of us talked as we finished them off. “You did good, man.”

  “Told you they were awesome.”

  I shifted in my seat as I reached for my wallet, but I stopped when I got a glimpse of the man leaving the restroom. His cap was pulled down over his eyes, but I knew it was him the second I saw the familiar scar on his cheekbone. Everything stilled -- the incessant chatter, the music playing in the background -- and there was only the sound of my pulse pounding in my ears. Like he didn’t have a care in the world, Lenny walked past me and out the front door. Adrenaline rushed through me as I stood up and growled, “Let’s go. Now!”

  With Ryder following close behind, I charged out of the front door and scanned the parking lot for any sign of him. It had only been a few seconds, if that, but he was gone. “What’s wrong, boss?”

  “Lenny DeMarco.”

  Ryder knew all about Lenny and Joey DeMarco. He’d been there when Murray and I had hunted them down and burned through their contacts. He knew we were hungry for revenge and wouldn’t stop until we had it. He knew the name was important and saw me frantically looking around, so he asked, “You think you saw him or something?”

  “Oh, I saw him. There’s no fucking doubt about that. I just can’t figure out where the motherfucker went.”

  “We’ll find him. What was he wearing?”

  “Dark jeans. Red Polo. Black ball cap.”

  “Let’s get in the truck and see if we can figure out where he went.”

  Each minute we spent driving, the farther into the darkness I fell. All the memories of Lainey and my father came crashing over me. Memories of the blood, the smell of gun powder, and the gut wrenching feeling of loss invaded my mind, making it impossible to think of anything except my overwhelming need for revenge. He was close. I could feel it in my bones, and I’d be damned if I was going to let him get away. Hell fucking no. Not this time.

  I made good use of my free day. With Max’s help, I managed to get all my books for my new classes and even convinced him to run by the grocery store for some decent cereal and something other than ramen noodles. Once we got back, I organized my closet and drawers, putting all of my things back where they belonged. While I kept most of the things he’d bought, there were several things that I decided Josie might like and bagged them up for her. By the time I’d finished, I was exhausted, so I took a hot bath and went to bed. I lay there for several hours, thinking Nathan would finally make it home, but he never did. I woke up the next morning to an empty bed, so I went on to work and hoped he’d be there when I got off. Again, there was no sign of him. I tried to convince myself that nothing was wrong, and he was just busy with work, but it hurt that he hadn’t called or even sent a text message. When he hadn’t shown up by the third day, it was impossible for me not to be worried, and a little mad. Yes, I was mad. So, I decided to send him a message.

  Me:

  Are you okay?

  Nathan:

  Everything’s fine. Working. Will call later.

  I’d like to say that he eventually called, but he didn’t. I went to work and met Tony at the bar. As promised, he started my training, and instead of my working my normal tables, I spent the night working alongside him at the bar. The fast pace and talking with the customers gave me a much-needed distraction. I’d been able to push thoughts of Nathan to the back of my mind and focus on work, until I looked up and found Max sitting at the counter. Worried that something was wrong, I rushed over to him.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “Nope. Everything’s fine.” He motioned his hand towards one of the TVs behind me. “I just decided to come inside and watch the game instead of listening to it out in the car. Mind getting me a glass of water?”

  After I poured him a glass, I set it on the counter in front of him and asked, “Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

  “What makes you think something’s wrong?”

  “Maybe the fact that Nathan’s been MIA for the last three days? He hasn’t even called me once, or sent a message to let me know that he’s alive. Nothing. I’d say that’s something to be worried about.”

  “Really?” he asked, sounding surprised.

  “Really. Not even once.” His face twisted into a grimace. “Just tell me if I should be worried. Has he changed his mind about me or…?”

  “No.”

  “Then, what is it?”

  “He’s working.”

  “Are you sure that’s all there is to it?”

  “When it comes to his work, it can be complicated.”

  “Everything with him is complicated.” The crowd was really thinning out, so I started wiping down the bar. “I just don’t get why it has to be so damn hard!”

  Max shrugged his shoulders as he replied, “Nothing worth having is ever easy.” He took a drink of his water, then looke
d back at the TV screen as he said, “Think of it like a game of baseball. You’ll always get curve balls. You just have to decide whether to hit the ball or let it fly by.”

  “I don’t know. When it comes to Nathan, I feel like I’m standing there waiting for a ball that might never come.”

  “You’ll never know unless you try.”

  “Blah. Blah. Enough about Nathan. My mind can’t take any more.” I threw my rag down on the counter and started stocking the glasses for the following day. “Let’s talk about you.”

  “Let’s not.”

  “Come on,” I pleaded. “Tell me something about you that I don’t know.”

  “This is not a good game, Tristen. There’s nothing entertaining about me.”

  “I seriously doubt that. How about your dad? Tell me something about him.”

  A disgruntled look crossed his face as he sighed. “He was a military man. Hard as nails, and after he was medically discharged, he only got worse.”

  “Why was he medically discharged?”

  “He was in Afghanistan. There was some kind of ambush, and he was shot. He lost some of the mobility in his shoulder, so they discharged him.”

  “You said he got worse. What does that mean?”

  Like he was trying to blow it off, he gave me a quick shrug and a lopsided smile. “Mean is one thing. Mean and drunk is an entirely different thing altogether.”

  Sensing that the conversation was bringing him down, I tried a different avenue. “So, what about your mother?”

  His expression softened as he replied, “Best woman I know.”

  “Were you two close?”

  “You could say that.” He smiled as he lifted his glass up to his mouth. After he took a drink, he continued, “I guess you could say she was both a mother and a father. She was always there, no matter what it was… my baseball games, the day I got my first job, my graduation, and even the day I joined the Marines. I could always count on her.”

  “She sounds like a wonderful mom.”

  “She was.” Max looked around the room and saw that it was empty. “You about ready?”

 

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