Saints Of Denver: Charged Part 10
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I exited the courtroom with another not-guilty verdict secured and another very satisfied client. This guy was lucky that the jury bought his innocent and confused act, because I would bet everything I owned that he was indeed guilty of luring the prost.i.tute, who was the complainant, into his home and keeping her there against her will for several days. The court of public opinion held a lot of weight with the average person and the jury took exactly three hours to deliberate and decide that the young woman deserved the horrors she suffered through simply because she made her money on her back and took the risk of advertising her services on Craigslist. It didn't matter that my client had crazy eyes, a previous history of violence against women, and zero remorse on the stand when he was cross-examined. He looked like a soccer dad and drove a minivan. He worked for the local cable company and had an established 401(k), so he was perceptibly the more upstanding and believable of the two of them on the stand. My job was done. I had kicked legal a.s.s and dragged the poor woman even deeper into the mud, and where I would normally want to celebrate a job well done with an expensive Scotch and a more expensive woman, today all I wanted to do was brave the madness of a tiny, pink-haired hurricane and scrub off the film of distaste that covered me in the shower for a hundred hours.
I was sending a text to Avett to tell her I was on my way to get her from her parents' house when I noticed the detective who was in charge of Avett's ex's case waiting for me by the elevators. I slipped my phone back in my pocket without waiting for her response and tilted my chin at the cop in greeting.
"What's up? Do you have any new information on the fire?"
The detective gave a sharp nod and blew out a deep sigh. He lifted a hand to his face and rubbed his chin. "The fire investigator is calling it arson. There was accelerant poured all over the house and the gas line that ran to the stove was cut. The house was purposely burned down."
I wasn't surprised, but I was furious. I hated that Avett and Brite were going through this. I hated that someone was capable of doing something so horrible to another human being.
"That's what we figured. Did the boyfriend offer up any insight as to why someone would be interested in burning down the Walkers' home?"
The cop sighed again. "We questioned him. The kid's a punk. He's the low man on the totem pole and completely willing to sell anyone and everyone out to cover his own a.s.s. We thought maybe he had one of his tweaker buddies go after the girl in order to keep her from testifying, but he hasn't had any contact with the outside since his arrest."
I swore and shoved my hand roughly through my hair, making it stand up wild on the top of my head.
"So where does that leave us?"
The cop frowned. "Well, the tweaker hasn't had any contact with the outside but his lawyer sure has. Do you know who La.r.s.en Tyrell is?"
I grunted. "I do." La.r.s.en was the guy that took the cases the rest of us wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole. He was the guy that represented drug runners and human traffickers. He was the guy that got child p.o.r.nographers set free and the guy that reveled in the media attention when he boldly and unashamedly represented cop killers and serial rapists.
"La.r.s.en is the druggie's attorney. He also represents Aitor Acosta. When the kid was picked up the night of the robbery, he was babbling that he had to rob the bar because he owed Acosta a s.h.i.+t ton of cash. The kid was supposed to sit on a stash that he went and picked up from the border, but we all know what happens when you put a junkie in charge of several kilos of c.o.ke."
I swore again and pulled even harder on my now out of control hair. "He blew through the stash on his own and didn't have the drugs or the money to give to his supplier."
"Yep. So Acosta sent the thugs looking for the goods. They shook up the girlfriend and that was enough to scare Dalton into robbing the bar so he could go on the run. Aitor has ties to every major Mexican gang operating behind bars. We think the kid told La.r.s.en the girl has the stash, and that La.r.s.en pa.s.sed that info on to his other client. Dalton is trying to cover his own a.s.s, like he has been from the beginning. He pa.s.sed the buck to the girl, just like he did with the robbery."
"Son of a b.i.t.c.h." My hand curled tightly around the handle of my bag and I had to breathe slowly and deeply to keep myself from throwing a fist into the nearest wall. "He's going to get her killed."
The cop nodded in agreement and rocked back on his heels a little bit. "Understandably, the lawyer couldn't tell us anything, but the way Dalton clammed up when he was ready to give us everything he had on Acosta and his operation speaks volumes. The D.A. had a pretty sweet deal on the table considering there were multiple felonies involved, but as soon as La.r.s.en got involved, all of that information was taken off the table. We're pretty sure the kid is being offered protection on the inside until the trial is over and until the drugs are found ... which we know they won't be." He gave me a pointed look. "Since nothing is official, and all we have is speculation, and a sleazy lawyer with zero morals to go on, there isn't much the DPD can do for her. She landed herself right in the middle of a big, fat, dangerous mess."
I pressed down on the corners of my eyes next to my nose as I felt the pounding of a headache start to throb there. "She is way too comfortable being right there. I'll pa.s.s along the information to her and her parents so everyone knows to be hyperalert. Thanks for the information."
The cop snorted again as we moved to get on the elevator. "No problem. I usually consider you one of the guys that plays for the opposite team, but that girl ..." He trailed off and all I could do was silently agree with him.
That girl ... there was just something about her. She made you want to help her, to heal her, to protect her, even as she blindly chased after the very things that would hurt her, the things that would leave wounds on her mind, body, and soul.
When I got to my truck, I already had my tie off and had stripped out of my jacket. Avett had texted back that she was making dinner for everyone, so I should be ready to eat when I got to her mom's house. After her reaction to my kitchen in my loft, I figured she liked to cook, but considering her age, I figured I was in store for something simple like spaghetti and meatb.a.l.l.s. When I was twenty-two, I lived off pizza and Chinese food. Lottie didn't cook, and when I was in school and working to pay for it, there was no way I had time to be domestic. So even if it was something simple out of a jar and a box, I told myself to pretend that it was haute cuisine because there was no way I wanted to hurt her feelings and run the risk of her deciding to stay with her parents instead of coming with me.
In the twenty minutes it took me to get across town and down into the Baker neighborhood where Avett's mom lived, I decided that with the danger swirling around her and the scales in our relations.h.i.+p tipping into something far more serious than I had planned on, we needed to get away for a few days. She needed a breather from everything that had been tumbling down on top of her since the night she was arrested, and I needed a few days to acquire some peace of mind, where I knew she would be safe and secure. We had to go somewhere that no one would think to look for either of us. I wanted a place that was nearly impossible to get to. It was a place that was hidden and remote. I wanted her to see the area I had come from and to show her the man I had been, so that she would understand that we weren't as different at the core of who we were as she believed us to be. I was going to show her where I called home and where I swore I would never, ever return to. This girl had been bringing me back to the start since the beginning.
Taking her to my mountains meant letting her see a part of me that I had spent most of my adult life trying to cover up. Taking her with me, back into the past, meant there was no more hiding behind the gloss and s.h.i.+ne of all the things in my life I used as camouflage. It also meant I was going to have to be as real with her as she had been with me from the very start, and that thought scared me to death. The last time I'd been honest about who I was, where I came from, I was packing my bags and headed off to boot camp a million and one years ago. That much reality at one time was going to be difficult to wade my way through, but the idea of stripping off the facade, of walking through the smoke screen and coming out on the other side as someone of substance, as a man of actual value and worth, instead of one that was nothing more than a disguise, was acutely stirring.
When I got to her mother's house, Avett threw open the door before I even lifted my hand to knock. I fell back a step as she hurled herself at me and I caught her with a soft "Oomph" as her tiny body slammed full force into mine. Her arms twined around my neck and her legs wrapped around my waist as I put a hand under her rear end to hold her up as her mouth slanted skillfully across my parted lips. I wrapped my free arm around her back and pulled her closer to me, enjoying the way her tongue tasted like something citrusy and tart and the way she moaned into my mouth as I deepened the kiss and used my teeth on her bottom lip. More than any of that, I got lost in how good it felt to have her excited to see me, the rush of having someone actually give a d.a.m.n that I was gone all day. I couldn't recall Lottie ever offering me more than a strained grin when I came home from a difficult day in court.
Avett pulled back and put one of her hands on my cheek as I slowly let her slide down my body. Her eyes sparkled with mischief when her middle dragged across the obvious arousal now tenting the front of my pants. "How was court?"
I rubbed my thumb across the plump and damp curve of her lower lip and looked past her into the house to make sure I wasn't going to have to dodge one of Brite's flying fists for groping his daughter in broad daylight. "Court was court. How was your day with your folks?"
She shrugged and stepped away from me, eyeing the bulge in my pants with a s.e.xy little leer.
"It was fine. I talked to my mom and worked some things out, so that was good. She reminded me that everyone has a story ... not only me." She looked down at the ground and then back up at me with what I was pretty sure was pride s.h.i.+ning out of her colorful eyes. "I told my parents everything that happened with Autumn and everything that happened afterwards. My dad didn't look at all surprised and my mom cried. It was a good talk." Her gaze skipped away from mine and landed on the front of my pants. "Do you need a few minutes before we go inside?" She was laughing at me and while that normally made me feel furious and affronted, coming from her, all I wanted to do was smile at her and indulge her.
"I do need a few minutes, but not for that. I want to talk to you about something." Her eyes widened and her brow wrinkled in an adorable fas.h.i.+on. I reached out to smooth the lines with my finger. "The police determined your house was burned down on purpose, Avett."
She gasped a little and lifted a hand up to cover her mouth. "Really?"
I nodded and brushed my thumb over her winged eyebrow. "Yeah, and they think the guys that came looking for you when Jared ran off with that last stash are behind it. They're looking for the drugs and if they can't get their hands on the goods, then they're going to come after you."
She scowled and crossed her arms across her chest in a defiant manner. "I never saw the drugs. I knew he was using, but I didn't know how deep in Jared was. I would never agree to partic.i.p.ate in something like that."
"I know that, but the guys with the missing drugs don't. Jared is all about Jared, so there is a high possibility he is telling the guys in charge that you took the product and stashed it somewhere. He's buying time while he's locked up, and his story is still that you were behind the robbery. He's put you directly in the line of fire."
Her mouth moved, but no sound came out as cold, stark fear moved into her eyes. "What if they come after my parents? What if they come after you?"
Her voice was barely a squeak and I couldn't resist reaching out and pulling her into my chest. I rested my cheek on the top of her head and told her, "They want the dope and they will go about the most efficient means of getting it. I'm going to tell your dad what's going on so he can keep an eye out, but I think you're the one that needs to be protected. Not everyone else. We should take the weekend and go out of town. We can take a few days off so you don't have to worry about what's next. What's next can wait until we get back, and hopefully by then the police will have a better handle on things. We'll take the bike and go for a ride. I promise to take you someplace safe."
She looked a little sh.e.l.l-shocked but nodded at me as she bit down on her lower lip. "What happens after the weekend, Quaid? The threat isn't going to go away and it's going to affect the people that matter the most to me."
"Let's get through the weekend and the trial, then we'll figure something out. Once Jared realizes he's facing serious time behind bars, and that his lawyer has a bigger agenda than defending him, the kid might change his tune and we can leverage that to get to his supplier." I didn't have a better answer for her than that, and I wasn't going to placate her with easy words and a.s.surances, because I wanted her to stay alert and ready. The threat to her was very real and it made me want to wrap her up in padding and bubble wrap and put her on the highest shelf so no one could ever get to her.
She bobbed her head up and down under my chin and her arms went around my waist so that she could squeeze me back. "Sounds like you're suddenly working for the prosecution, Counselor. That's the other team."
I let her go and set her away from me far enough so that I could bend down and brush my mouth across hers. "I'm Team Avett right now. That's the only team I'm interested in seeing win. Now, why don't we go in before your dad comes looking for us."
She barked out a laugh and turned to lead me into the house. "He'd be madder about your imported bike than he would that you had your hands on me, Quaid. He's knows exactly how I am, but not buying American ... well, that's an unforgivable sin to a Harley man."
I'd heard it from more than one motorcycle enthusiast, but I didn't like the idea that her dad, a man I had nothing but respect and admiration for, had a reason to find fault with me. No matter how superficial it was.
"I like to go fast." And I liked the way the Italian bike handled. I also liked that when I rode, I had to concentrate, to focus on the asphalt and the turns. When I rode, there was no room for anything other than the ride. It was the closest thing I had to wildness and freedom in my life. At least it was until Hurricane Avett crashed onto my sh.o.r.es.
Speaking of my tempest, she looked over her shoulder at me with a grin I wanted to kiss off her face. "Don't I know it."
We made our way through the comfortable and cozy ranch-style home and my senses lit up with how normal and welcoming it all was. Brite rose from where he was sitting on the couch, offering me a hand to shake, and Darcy gave me a smile that was missing so much of the tension and strain that had been on her face the last time I saw her. Avett patted me on the arm and told me she was going to finish up in the kitchen and that we could all eat in ten minutes. When she mentioned food, I realized the entire house smelled like something fragrant and delicious. That was no Ragu or Hamburger Helper coming out of the kitchen.
"Smells good." I took a seat on a well-worn recliner and looked at Avett's parents. I was waiting for the third degree or an interrogation. All I got was nods and easy smiles.
"The girl is a natural in the kitchen. She can cook circles around me and I've spent years running professional and not so professional kitchens." The pride in Darcy's voice was evident.
I lifted a hand to smooth down my hair and offered up my own rueful grin. "I was expecting spaghetti sauce out of a jar and maybe some frozen garlic bread."
Brite let out a booming laugh and slapped his knee. "No. When Avett gets it in her head to prepare a meal, it's all from scratch and tastes like you should be paying her for the honor of eating it. When it was just me and her, I wasn't around a lot because of my hours at the bar. She had free run of the kitchen. The leftovers she had waiting for me were better than anything you could get at any five-star restaurant in LoDo. The girl is a natural when it comes to food and I think in her own way that's how she cares for the people that matter to her. She can feed them. Tonight she made chicken picatta and homemade pasta."
No one would ever accuse Brite of not being an observant man. I had wondered where Avett's enthrallment with my kitchen came from and his insight into his complicated daughter made a lot of sense. She knew how to cook and how to do it well. She knew she wouldn't screw it up, so that was how she went about caring for those that she loved. That was her gift and she wanted to share it. My mouth started to water at the same time my heart flipped over in my chest. I couldn't hold back a soft, "d.a.m.n."
I pushed my suddenly acute hunger to the back of my mind and filled Brite and Darcy in on what the detective had told me hours earlier. Brite looked furious when I was done talking and Darcy nervously twisted her hands together. I told them my plans to take their daughter out of town for the weekend and was stunned that there was no argument. Brite agreed it was a good idea for her to lay low as much as possible until the trial, and a.s.sured me that when we got back to town he would rally the troops to make sure she was never alone. Darcy watched me, speculatively, and simply nodded as she muttered, "You're both going to need to be very careful." I wasn't sure if she was referring to me being in danger because of the situation surrounding Avett, or if she was talking about the way her daughter and I were bound to detonate into an explosion of heartbreak and anguish by the time we were done falling in love with one another.
Avett hollered that dinner was ready and we all moved to the dining room. She wasn't merely a good cook, she was something magical. The food tasted better than anything I had ever put in my mouth, and I couldn't stop telling her how impressed I was. She blushed prettily as easy conversation flowed around the table, and when I got her back to my loft a few hours later, I thanked her for dinner and for sharing her family properly in the shower, several times. The first time I thanked her on my knees, with her leg thrown over my shoulder and my mouth buried in her core as she pulled on my hair and demanded I give her more. The second time I thanked her, I did it with her bent over in front of me with her hands on those slate tiles I couldn't even see because I was focused on the way water sluiced down the s.e.xy curve of her spine, and the way it made her cotton-candy-colored hair stick to her skin as I pounded into her from behind.
Losing myself in her sweet body over and over again did more to cleanse the cobwebs that clung to me from the dirty victory in court today than any amount of hot water and scrubbing could. She made me feel renewed. She made me feel improved. She made me feel like hearing her come on a long sigh, with my name dancing off her lips, was the only victory that was ever going to matter ever again.
After we had the bathroom cleaned up and the things we were going to need to get through the weekend in the mountains packed into two backpacks, I took her to bed and told her I would keep her safe. I told her she had a real gift with food and that I really liked her parents. I told her that I liked the way she told me h.e.l.lo today, and that I really liked going to bed with her. She let me give her the words, she let me hold her close, and she didn't ask for anything else.
She didn't ask about court. She didn't ask about the mountains. She didn't demand attention or validation. She took what I had to offer and snuggled into my side as she traced the wings tattooed on my chest in a lazy caress. She was content to simply be here with me, and what I offered seemed to be enough for her. I liked a lot of things about this young woman, but the fact that she wasn't asking for more than I had to give was at the top of the list. Her una.s.suming and undemanding nature made me want to dig deep into a well that I was sure had run dry, in order to provide her with more than the bare bones of the emotions I had left. I wanted to give to Avett, as much as I wanted to take from her.
I fell asleep with her head on my shoulder and her hand resting over my heart. I woke up with the sun hitting me in the face and Avett's sa.s.sy mouth wrapped around my d.i.c.k, while her small hand played with my b.a.l.l.s. It was the nicest wake-up call that I had ever gotten, and it had me smiling all morning long. I did my best to put a similar smile on her face, and by the time we were done destroying my bed and each other, it was well past time for us to get on the road. The bike was fast, but the drive up to the mountains was still over treacherous pa.s.ses and the weather was always unpredictable in late fall. I was trying to get the girl out of danger, not put her in more of it.
I had a leather jacket and a helmet that I bought for Lottie and had never been used. Avett made a face when I told her where the gear came from, but she still put it on and climbed on the back of the bike behind me, like a pro. A street bike was nothing like a Harley, but the basics of how to ride on the back of one were the same. That meant she got to wrap herself around me, that I got to have her hands pressed low and tight across my middle, with her legs squeezing me tightly as we moved together around each of the switchbacks that led up to the mountain. She moved like she had been born on the back of a bike, which I guess she kind of had been. But she also moved so in sync and so perfectly with me that all I wanted to do was find a place to pull over so I could bend her over the bike and bury myself inside her, so deeply and fully that she wouldn't be able to remember what it was like to not have me inside of her.
It took several hours as we pa.s.sed through small mountain town after small mountain town, each one more exclusive and more elite than the last. The tourists were out in force, making their way into the mountains to watch the leaves change and for a last-minute getaway before the snow moved in. We rode hard and fast, zipping around traffic and chasing the wind higher and higher up in elevation, the leaves turning from leafy green to vivid yellow and red the farther away from the city we got. It had been years since I'd been here and I'd spent so much time blocking out the memories that I almost pa.s.sed the outcropping of rocks that led to the small turnoff where I knew there was a small, flat area where I could park the bike.
I pulled off the road, parked behind the boulders. I waited until Avett climbed off from her perch behind me and then swung my leg over the bike. We pulled our helmets off at the same time, and I loved the way her candy-colored hair floated around her face and down around her shoulders. She looked around the densely wooded area that surrounded us with trepidation and awe stamped clearly on her face. We'd left behind the glitz and polish of the nearest designer ski town miles and miles ago.
"Where are we?"
I rubbed my hand through my hair and pocketed the keys to the bike. "This is the back side of the White River National Forest."
She laughed a little and reached out to put her helmet on the bike next to mine. "Okay. It's really pretty and clearly no gun-toting bad guys are going to follow us all the way up here, but we didn't pack anything to camp with in those backpacks. So I'm officially confused as to where we're going and what we're doing."
I took her hand in mine and started for the trees. There used to be a path worn in the brush, a path I made as I walked over a mile each way every single day through these very woods to get to the bus stop, regardless of the weather outside. The path had long since grown over but suppressed memory and ancient instinct made my steps sure as I pulled Avett deeper and deeper into the thick foliage.
"I told you I was taking you somewhere safe, somewhere you can relax and not worry for a few days. That's exactly what I'm doing. No one knows this place exists."
She was panting a little as she trudged along behind me, doing her best to keep up with my longer stride and to step carefully over fallen logs and hidden rocks.
"If no one knows that it exists, how do you know about it?" That was a valid question and after forty-five minutes of trudging through rough and unforgiving terrain we came into the clearing where my entire past and childhood rested.
I looked at Avett as she came to a stumbling halt next to me. Her pretty eyes widened until they took up half of her face as she turned her head to look at me with questions overflowing in her gaze.
"Quaid?"
I pointed to the cabin and shrugged as I told her, "That's where I grew up."
She breathed out a disbelieving little laugh. "You've got to be kidding me."
I grunted and took a few hesitant steps towards the building as memory upon memory a.s.saulted me, making my steps falter and unsteady. "I'm not. My dad bought this land and a few surrounding acres when he was about your age. He and my mom had a dream of being modern day homesteaders, of living off the land and off the grid. But even when you live strictly off the land, you still have to pay the government for that privilege. My folks owed thousands and thousands of dollars in back taxes on the property. When I got out of the army, I found out that they had pulled up stakes and moved with my brother to some G.o.dforsaken part of Alaska, to live on a lake in a roughly constructed houseboat. It sounds like a made-up story, but it's one hundred percent true. They are as off grid as anyone can get, in a place it takes dogsleds and snowmobiles to get to. I haven't spoken to them or my little brother in years. I don't even know if they know about my divorce."
She blinked at me as she tried to process all the information I was giving to her.
"They're like those people on that show Ice Lake Rebels?"
I snorted out a surprised laugh that she even kind of knew what I was talking about. "Yeah, something like that."
"You're right, that doesn't sound like a real story, but it also sounds ... sad? Don't you miss them? How can they not miss you?" She sounded worried as I tugged on her hand and pulled her towards the rustic, wooden structure. "And if they're in Alaska, doesn't that mean we're trespa.s.sing right now? I probably shouldn't get arrested again now that I'm finally figuring out how to do the right thing once in a while."
"We're not trespa.s.sing. After I started working for the firm, I contacted the man that purchased the land at auction. He was using the cabin as a hunting lodge. I offered him a deal he couldn't refuse and told him he could continue to use the property during hunting season, so he sold it back to me." I cut her a sideways look. "I think I thought my folks would move back if they knew they could have the land with no governmental strings attached to it, but they never did. They like their life the way it is too much to come back, and I think they wrote me off the minute I told them I was joining the military. They never understood why I wanted out, or why I wanted more than the land could provide for me. I haven't been here since the day I left for boot camp."
She whistled softly and squeezed the hand that was still gripping hers. "That has to sting."
I pushed the door open and froze in place at the sight of the barren walls and dusty floorboards. It looked so much like it had when I was growing up. Four walls dotted with cracked windows, a minimal kitchen, a loft with a thin mattress and another one on a cot in the corner. There was a threadbare couch in front of an old wood burning stove and a table made from one of the pines that surrounded the cabin. There wasn't even a bathroom in the cabin. That meant every night I would sprint across the forest floor to the makes.h.i.+ft house that was nothing more than some plywood and a hole in the ground, taking care of business while wondering if I was going to run across a bear or a mountain lion.
"It did sting. It still does when I allow myself to think about it now. When I first s.h.i.+pped out and I had no clue what to expect, no idea where I would end up or if the risk I took in enlisting would pay off or end up getting me killed, it sucked that I didn't have their support or encouragement. My girlfriend at the time, who is now my ex-wife, really seemed like the only person I had in the world. I think that's why I was so oblivious when our marriage started to fall apart. She was my only tie to this life, and she was the only one that didn't leave me when I was my most uncertain. It was all an act, but it was an act that kept me going when I was a terrified and lonely kid headed to war."
The cabin was empty, modest, and bucolic. This was what having only what you needed to survive was all about, and it was so different from the way I lived now I had no idea how either man lived within the same body.
I looked at the girl that had brought me back here, the girl that had made it impossible to pretend anymore. I wanted her to see that we weren't as different as she thought we were, that we didn't come from the same place, but that was because the place I came from was this vacant, humble existence. I came from nothing, and she didn't.
"This" -I gestured with my hand to indicate the sad s.p.a.ce around us- "is why I have two thousand dollar sheets and ugly but expensive artwork on the walls. When you have nothing your entire childhood, when you don't get to eat unless you can kill dinner, and when you don't get to be warm unless you've chopped a stack of firewood as tall as you were, you want things. You want comfort and ease. You want luxury and extravagance. You want to be the kid that doesn't get made fun of for being dirt poor. You want to be the guy that gets the girl you should never be able to get. You want to be the kid that gets to see a doctor when you slice your side open chopping wood, not sewn together on the kitchen table and told to toughen up because you cried each time the needle dug into your skin. You want so many things when this is how you live. You want everything, and even that's not enough, because there is always more. So you work your a.s.s off to get those things, and even though you realize that it'll never be enough, you keep working and you keep acquiring. My entire adult life has been about getting enough things to cover all of this up and to show my parents that I made the right choice by leaving and getting out, even though they've never seen and wouldn't appreciate anything about the man I am now."
Avett pulled her hand free, and I thought she was going to make some smart remark about the outhouse or about the fact that I had basically grown up Little House on the Prairie style, but all she did was wrap her arms around me from behind and press herself into my back. I felt her cheek rest between my shoulder blades and her voice, even though she spoke quietly, echoed loudly in the desolate s.p.a.ce.
"It's so much easier to see you here than it is when you're surrounded by all those things, Quaid."
I sighed and put my hands over hers. "That's because there's nowhere to hide here."
I was done hiding, from her and from the rest of the world.
CHAPTER 13.
Avett
It was becoming disgustingly obvious that reaching for the remote and running after the wrong kind of men was not adequate exercise as I huffed and puffed to keep up with Quaid's long-legged stride as he wound his way through the forest surrounding the cabin. Apparently, even the acrobatic and endless amounts of breathless s.e.x I'd been having with the right kind of man wasn't enough in the cardio department because I felt like I was going to die, and we'd only been hiking through the woods for an hour or so. Quaid wanted to show me something on the property. A place that he insisted was worth the burning thighs and collapsed lungs I was sure I was going to have by the time we got there. I couldn't deny the wistful sparkle that lightened his pale eyes even more as he told me about spending hours with his younger brother, climbing on the rocks and jumping off the outcropping into the small mountain lake below. He promised the sound of the waterfall that fed the pool of frigid water was soothing and relaxing, and even though nature was not necessarily my thing, there was no way I was going to deny him this trip down memory lane that he obviously needed to take.
I groaned as I stumbled over a root I didn't see and slammed into his broad back. The noise turned into a soft sigh as one of his arms reached around blindly to steady me. He was always doing that ... steadying me. It made my heart flutter and the part deep down inside of me that always hurt, that forever pulsed with regret and pain, felt less vast and infinite.
"You okay back there?" Humor tinted his deep voice and pulled at his mouth as he looked over his shoulder at me.
I wrinkled my nose at him. "I'll make it, but you might have to carry me back to the cabin."
He laughed and lifted one of his golden eyebrows at me. "You've got years and years ahead of you before you'll need someone to carry you back, Avett."
I poked him between his shoulder blades and sidestepped something that looked like a pile of wild animal droppings. I still couldn't believe this forest was his backyard and that he knew his way around the rugged terrain like it had only been yesterday when he was running through the trees. It didn't fit with the flawless suits and the meticulously decorated loft. He had a lot going on beneath those silk ties he liked to wear.
Saints Of Denver: Charged Part 10
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Saints Of Denver: Charged Part 10 summary
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