Wild Man

by Kristen Ashley

  Then I decided to use the Olivia tactic and ignore him so I opened the door and started to move to enter but I was foiled with that too when he put his hand to my forearm, gently pulled me back, and my door was shut in front of me.

  But as he did this, I whirled. Twisting my arm to jerk it out of his hold, I took a step back and lifted a hand, palm out.

  “Don’t touch me.”

  He lifted his hand too, palm up and placating. “Listen to me, Tess. Please.”

  “Why would I do that when your being here means you don’t listen to me?” I asked, dropping my hand.

  Before he could answer a voice came out of the shadows.

  And it said, “You need to get gone, Heller.”

  My eyes went in its direction and Vance Crowe, Brock’s friend from the Hot-Guy Club, formed out of the darkness.

  Hallelujah.

  “Who are you?” Damian asked Vance.

  “A friend of Tess’s,” Vance answered. “Now you need to move away from her vehicle and get gone.”

  Damian stared at him. Then he looked to me.

  Then he announced, “He’s dangerous.”

  “Who? Vance?” I asked disbelievingly, not that I didn’t think Vance could be dangerous. Just that I knew instinctively Vance would never be dangerous to me.

  “No,” Damian bit off. “Lucas.”

  My body got tight and it got tight not because I believed him. Just that I didn’t believe he showed up at my bakery after a very bad, very long day to trash talk my boyfriend.

  “Man, not gonna tell you again,” Vance warned, getting close. “Step away from her vehicle.”

  Damian had looked to Vance while he was speaking but he looked back at me and pleaded, “Please, Tess, you have to listen to me. I’m not here to start something. I’m not here to hurt you. I’m not here to get you back. I’m only here to help you. I’m here to stop you from making a grave mistake.”

  To help me. Right.

  Asshole.

  I sighed and said, “Go away, Damian.”

  “You don’t understand,” he said, leaning into me. I reared back and Vance was suddenly between Damian and me.

  “Seriously, Heller, move the fuck on,” Vance growled, audibly and visually losing patience in a very scary way.

  “I need to speak to her,” Damian clipped, ignoring Vance’s scariness.

  “I see that, man, but she doesn’t wanna speak to you,” Vance pointed out. “Now, I don’t wanna get physical but I will, no fuckin’ joke, so get the fuck outta here.”

  Damian glared at Vance and then, being Damian, his eyes moved beyond him to me standing behind him.

  “He put a man in the hospital,” he declared. “Was nearly suspended permanently from the police force because of it. Beat the hell out of him. He’s known to be—”

  I cut him off. “I know, Damian, yeesh. You don’t think Brock would share that with me?”

  Damian blinked. “You know?”

  “Uh… yeah. The guy beat the crap out of his ex-girlfriend, raped her repeatedly and put her in the hospital for two weeks. Brock wasn’t down with that and I don’t blame him.”

  I heard Vance chuckle, his scariness evaporating (kind of) and I saw Damian’s eyes narrow.

  Then he stated, “He’s had sexual intercourse with suspects he was investigating.”

  “I know that too, seeing as I was one of them,” I informed him.

  Vance chuckled again and Damian’s narrow-eyed look turned into a scowl.

  Then he shared, “You weren’t the only one.”

  “Yeah, her name was Darla and he had his reasons. He shared them with me but I will not be sharing them with you. What I will be doing is hunkering behind hot-guy Vance while I call the police and inform them you’re harassing me again if you don’t go away.”

  Damian ignored me too and stated, “He’s not a good man, Tess.”

  At that, I burst out laughing so hard, I bent forward and had to wrap my arms around my belly because my sides were hurting.

  I did this for a long time and then straightened, wiped tears of hilarity from my cold cheeks, and focused on a Vance and Damian, who were both looking at me like I was more than a little crazy.

  Then my eyes turned to Damian and I declared, “That was hilarious.”

  “I’m not being funny,” he whispered.

  “You wouldn’t know a good man if he walked up and tapped you on the shoulder,” I whispered back, suddenly deadly serious. “Brock Lucas is wild and he’s rough and he’s driven but he’s loving and affectionate and so fucking loyal it isn’t funny. He takes care of me. He makes me feel safe. He’s good through and through and that is the first and last fucking time I’ll listen to you talk shit about him. I’m done speaking to you or seeing you. I’m reporting this incident to the police immediately and any future ones will also be reported. I’m done with you Damian, and since you won’t listen to me, maybe the Denver Police Department can make you listen.”

  Then I dug out my phone, dialed 911, and put it to my ear.

  Vance stayed close and Damian stared at me.

  “Nine-one-one, what’s your emergency?”

  “This is Tessa O’Hara and I’m standing outside Tessa’s Cakes in Cherry Creek North. My ex-husband is harassing me and he won’t allow me to get in my vehicle. Can someone come help me?”

  “I’m trying to help, Tess. With this guy, you’re in danger,” Damian told me as the 911 operator informed me she was sending a unit to the scene.

  I ignored his idiocy and told him, “They’re sending a unit to the scene.”

  He stared at me. Then he looked at Vance Crowe, who was standing close to me, grinning his shit-eating grin, arms crossed on his chest.

  Damian looked at me one last time, moved away and disappeared into the shadows.

  Vance uncrossed his arms and dug his phone out of his back jeans pocket. “You stay on with the operator. I’ll call Slim.”

  I nodded. Then I told the operator Damian took off but I’d like to make a complaint as Vance told Brock what went down and Brock told Vance he was on his way.

  The operator released me after telling me to get safe and stay put. I called Martha and begged off girls’ night in, thankful I had an excuse but not thankful as to what that excuse was. Martha, surprisingly, agreed that after a visit from Damian I should relax at home with my boys. But she wasn’t allowed to let me go until Shirleen confirmed I would be at the bakery the next day to peruse my nightie options and for her to collect on her debt.

  I confirmed this through Martha and then Vance and I waited for the police.

  “Good news is, he’s dropped his shit with Slim,” Vance said into the night and I looked up at his profile. “He isn’t diggin’ anymore. He found the only things he could find, laid those out for you tonight, and his activities on that have ground to a halt.”

  I turned my head and replied into the night, “That is good news.”

  And it was.

  “The bad news is, he isn’t done fuckin’ with you,” Vance went on.

  I sighed.

  “I know,” I whispered.

  “Advice,” Vance said softly and I looked up to him to see his eyes tipped down to me. “No more conversation. You see him, you pull out your phone immediately and you dial nine-one-one. Even if he’s near but hasn’t tried to engage you, you make note of it, keep the card of the officer assigned to your case, you call him or her and you report it. Yeah?”

  This sounded like good advice and Vance Crowe looked like a man who knew what he was talking about so I nodded.

  “You want more good news?” he asked.

  “Uh… yeah, more good news is always good.”

  He nodded.

  Then he stated, “His shit is comin’ to trial. Word on the street is they got a fuckin’ great case. Word also on the street is, he’s scramblin’. This means he’s either gonna rat on factions higher than him, which makes him a marked man, and with the scum he worked for, they’ll make certai
n he won’t live to see trial. Or it means he’s gonna go down and when he does, that’ll be for a while. You gotta live with this a little while longer, Tess. But, one way or another, it’ll be done. It just depends on how permanent that done’ll be.”

  Hmm.

  “Which way do you think he’s leaning?” I asked.

  “Man moved up fast. He isn’t dumb. No way he’s stupid enough to rat.”

  Conflicting news.

  I didn’t want to think I was the kind of person who wanted to see her ex-husband dead regardless of how hideously he’d treated me. But I was bone tired, standing outside my bakery, waiting for the police in the dark cold of the night. And this was the second official complaint I would make in a day when many people lived their whole lives without making even one.

  Granted, a seriously hot guy was standing beside me but he didn’t happen to be mine. Mine was arriving imminently and he was probably going to show pissed.

  Therefore, although I couldn’t exactly say I wanted Damian dead, I could say, when this was done, I wanted it to be done the permanent kind of permanently.

  “That conflict you got workin’ on your face,” Vance said quietly and I focused on him, “we all got that inside us. Either way it goes down for Heller, he bought that trouble. That’s on him and it’s outta your hands. What I want you to take away is, soon this shit is done for you and it’s done for Slim. Hold onto that, be smart, and stay strong.”

  I nodded again.

  Then I looked down at his hand and saw a wide, shiny, gold wedding band proudly displayed.

  I looked back into his eyes. “You’re married?”

  “Yeah,” he confirmed.

  “She’s lucky,” I whispered and he grinned his shit-eating grin again.

  “Sorry, Tess, that’s me.”

  Great freaking response.

  So great, I felt my face go soft and I smiled. “Bet she thinks differently.”

  His face went soft too and he replied, “Yeah, she does. One of the many reasons she makes me lucky.”

  I heard the sirens and I suspected he was a man on the move and wouldn’t hang around long enough for me to offer him gratitude cupcakes.

  So, quickly, I said, “Thanks for stepping in tonight.”

  “Slim wanted you on radar, you’re on radar. You got eyes on you often but definitely anytime you lock up alone. He called and told us tonight you were lockin’ up alone.”

  I didn’t know this but I liked it.

  “Well, thanks.”

  He jerked up his chin. Then he grinned. I smiled back. Then the cop car showed.

  Ten minutes later Brock showed and I was right. The boys were in the truck looking freaked and Brock was in it looking pissed. I was also right about Vance. He made his statement, gave his card, and took off.

  Ten minutes after that, Brock and the boys followed behind my car as we drove to his house.

  Ten seconds after I arrived, I turned on the taps in the bath.

  * * *

  “Babe,” I heard but didn’t move. “Tess,” I heard from closer and I still didn’t move.

  But a noise escaped my lips and it was, “Mm?”

  “How long you gonna stay in the tub?” Brock asked and I couldn’t see him, seeing as I had a wet washcloth on my face, but I knew from his voice he was crouched right by the tub.

  “Infinity,” I muttered.

  I heard a chuckle then I heard water splash and I heard Brock again. “Water isn’t even warm anymore.”

  “If I don’t move,” I told the washcloth, “I can pretend it’s still steaming.”

  “Tess, darlin’, get out. You need dinner. It’s nearly nine.”

  “I’m too tired to eat.”

  “You still gotta do it.”

  “If I leave this tub, I enter the world. Damian doesn’t exist in here. Olivia doesn’t exist in here.” Reluctantly, I lifted a hand, removed the cloth from my face, looked into his silver eyes, and suggested, “Let’s move in here. We can buy a mini-fridge, a tiny microwave, and a camp stove and we’ll be set.”

  He grinned. “I think, even for you, it’d be a challenge to make a carrot cake on a camp stove.”

  “Yes,” I muttered, looking to my toes at the end of the tub, “that would be a drawback.”

  His hand moved to cup my jaw and force my face back to looking at his, where I saw his eyes had melted mercury.

  “My sweet Tess has had a bad day,” he murmured.

  “Yes, officially it becomes a bad day when you make a complaint to the police about your boyfriend’s ex-wife. Then it becomes a very bad day when you make another one about your ex-husband.”

  He held my eyes as his hand moved, his fingertips gliding along my neck and down as he said, “Get outta the tub, get some food in you, and then I’ll make the day go away.”

  His fingertips were still moving down. Now at my chest, they kept going. Into the water, they slid between my breasts and kept going down as I felt my heartbeat escalate.

  “You’ll make the day go away?” I breathed.

  “Yeah,” he whispered, his hand gliding through the water at my belly, down, and automatically I shifted my legs to give him access.

  He grinned then his hand went down.

  My eyes closed slowly and my lips parted.

  “You want the day to go away, baby?” he asked quietly, his fingers moving magically.

  “Yeah,” I whispered.

  Suddenly his hand was gone but his arms were around me and water splashed everywhere as he pulled me straight out of the tub. He put me on my feet in front of him, my wet body tight to his, his arms wrapped around.

  “Brock!” I cried, fingers curved around his biceps.

  “Food, rest, hang with the boys until they go to sleep then I’ll make your day go away.”

  “Okay, fine but you got the bathroom all wet and you all wet,” I informed him.

  “I got dry clothes and the floor’s tile, sweetness. It’s not a big deal. What is a big deal is I can’t keep an eye on you and a finger on the pulse of your state of mind and my boys with you hidin’ in the bathroom, turnin’ yourself into a prune.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You had a shit day.”

  “I know but I’ll survive.”

  He shook his head. “My job is not to help you survive, Tess. It’s to make it safe and sweet when you walk through my door. Now, my woman is not goin’ to bed hungry because my ex-wife is a cunt and her ex-husband is a motherfucking dickhead. She’s gonna eat. She’s gonna curl close to me. She’s gonna show my boys she’s okay. And then we’re gonna go to bed and I’m gonna make her day go away. Yeah?”

  That sounded like a good plan. Actually a great plan. Actually, I should have thought of it myself.

  So, of course, I agreed and I did that by saying, “Yeah.”

  He smiled, dropped his head, and kissed me lightly.

  Then he said, “See you downstairs.”

  He was at the bathroom door and I had a towel held up in front of me when I called his name and he turned back.

  “Vance said you were the reason he was there tonight.”

  “Yeah,” he confirmed.

  “You didn’t tell me you’d—” I started but he interrupted me, his brows drawing together.

  “Yeah, I did, Tess. I said the bakery is on radar.”

  I stared at him.

  Then I told him, “I thought you meant by the cops.”

  “Cops. Lee’s boys. Fuck, I even called Hawk fuckin’ Delgado and asked him to keep his ear to the ground and his eyes open.”

  To that, I blinked. This was because I knew Brock was not the still unknown (even though he was Gwen’s man) Hawk Delgado’s favorite person. This was also because Brock had told me Hawk was not his favorite person either, mainly because he screwed the pooch on the Darla deal. Both of them were not over that situation, as in way not over it, and now knowing the details, I got why on both sides.

  “Really?” I whispered.

 
He crossed his arms on his chest and stated, “Babe, you think I found the woman of my dreams at forty-five years old and I’m gonna let anything happen to her, think again. That’s a long fuckin’ time to wait for what you want. I waited. I found it. I’m pullin’ out all the stops to take care of it. I know you feel the same for me so I’m doin’ the same to keep me safe for you. So yeah, really, I called Delgado. I made peace and asked a favor. His woman is in your posse so she wouldn’t be doin’ cartwheels, he said no and something went down with you or, for you, me. And he isn’t dumb. He’s a man who knows to collect favors and he’s a man whose business means he often has the need to call markers. So his ear’s to the ground and his eyes are open. So if a cop isn’t cruisin’ by your house or bakery, one of Lee’s boys or one of Hawk’s commandos are. Smart people pay attention to who’s cruisin’ around people they want to fuck with and smart people will see cops, Nightingale’s men, and Delgado’s crazy motherfuckers, and my hope is, they’ll steer clear. So, there you go. Now you got a full explanation of what I mean when I say you’re on radar.”

  I heard all he said. I really did.

  But I was stuck at the beginning part where he told me I was the woman of his dreams.

  And that made me feel so warm and gushy, I was mostly incapacitated.

  So the best I could do was force out an “Okay.”

  “Okay,” he replied.

  Then I forced out, “I’ll be down in a minute.”

  He jerked his chin up.

  Then he walked out.

  I stared at the door. Then I did it a little while longer as I heard him moving around in the bedroom changing out of wet clothes. I did it for even longer after he’d left the bedroom. Then I toweled off, got dressed in loose-fitting drawstring lounge pants, a camisole, and a light hoodie and I went downstairs.

  Brock fed me grilled cheese and oven-baked tater tots. It was really good. Brock grilled a mean cheese sandwich and the tater tots were baked perfectly, crispy on the outside, soft in the middle.

  I hung out in front of the TV curled into Brock until he sent the kids to bed at ten. Then I hung out longer, curled into Brock.

  Finally, Brock took me to bed and spent more than a fair amount of effort in taking my day away.

  He succeeded magnificently, and seconds after he curled me into his arms when he was done expending this effort, I fell into a peaceful sleep filled with really, really good dreams.