Gentle Curves (Dangerous Curves Book 4) (5 page)

“Hon –”

“If you won’t kick him out, fine.” She pushed her hair back. “But I won’t speak to him. He can just sit there all day until he gets the message.”

“Mirrie. Just talk to – ”

She opened the door, ignoring him.

Mac saw her emerge, took in her watery eyes. Right away, he got to his feet, alarmed and worried.

“You OK, babe?”

Mirrie didn’t even look at him. She looked scarily calm and unemotional, totally uninterested and almost numb. More than anything, that last thing gave him pause.

He hesitated, unsure what she thinking and feeling now. “Mirrie?”

She walked over to the counter and started to pour herself a coffee. She had the feeling that it was going to be a very,
very
long day.

The door opened and six people all came in at once; Mirrie greeted the noise and chaos with nothing but relief. Most of the customers were regulars, so she was able to relax and ease in to the familiar banter and joking without any effort.

Mac retreated to his table without a word. He watched Mirrie work, listened to her forced laughter, kept an eye on the street outside. And he settled in: he was in it for the long haul. He was in it for however long it took.

I’m not leaving, babe, not until we talk. Not until you hear me.

**

Four hours later, Mac was steadily working his way through yet another towering pile of pastries. He had the definite feeling that he’d need to double down on his workouts for the next month to make up for this calorie-bomb of a day.

He sipped his fifth cup of coffee and watched Mirrie and Spider behind the counter. They were talking quietly but he didn’t think it was about him. In fact, he was sure that Mirrie hadn’t breathed a word about him since she’d come out of the back room. God knows, she hadn’t breathed a word
to
him.

To Mac’s utter shock, she wasn’t shooting daggers at him with her gorgeous eyes. She wasn’t muttering under her breath or huffing every time he went up to the counter and asked her for something. She hadn’t dragged him in to the staff room for a knock-down argument, hadn’t ordered his ass out of her place of work, hadn’t shown one flash of ire.

No, she was very polite but distant, as if he were a total stranger instead of the man who’d seen her through a severe trauma, the man who’d made love to her until she’d screamed his name. There wasn’t so much as a flicker of recognition in her expression and she’d kept this up all morning. It was like he was invisible.

This all stumped him, if he were being honest. Truly, he’d expected fire and brimstone; shouting and maybe even a thrown dish or two. He’d thought that if he could just get her to interact with him, even if she was angry, they could get a conversation going. He’d counted on her at least acknowledging him – even if it was to smack him upside the head.

But
this
woman? This reserved, controlled Mirrie? She was a total stranger to him and on some level, it actually frightened him. He didn’t know her when she was like this… and he had no clue how to reach her. Just like he'd never had any clue how to reach his father.

Mac's gut twisted as he thought about that bastard. Mac's mother had died giving birth to Mac and his father Royce had never, ever forgiven him for it. More than once, Royce had told Mac that he had, in effect, killed his own mother and taken away the only thing that Royce ever could or would love. God knows that he didn't love Mac and never even attempted to for one instant.

Mac had had a privileged upbringing: nannies, cooks, maids. Toys, clothes, trips with his nannies. But when he and his father were alone in the evenings and Royce dove in to the bottle, Mac's life became a living hell. Royce beat him often and brutally, shouting the whole time that Mac had ruined his life, that Mac was a despicable little murderer. On those long, bloody nights, Mac learned that to love someone was the most dangerous thing in the world to do. Love made you vulnerable and it made you weak and it made you insane.

He was raised by the help in a massive and isolated country estate house until he was eight years old. That was when Royce shipped him off to boarding school without even a pretence that he was sorry about seeing the back of his only child. To his surprise and despite his cold and violent childhood, Mac had excelled at school. In fact, he'd
loved
it. He loved being around kids his own age for once; he liked the team sports; he cherished not being afraid of punches and blows; he discovered that being funny and uncaring was a form of protection. He worked his ass off and showed a definite aptitude for science and anatomy, and he knew as early as the age of ten that he was going to be a doctor. He set his mind to it and never questioned it, never second-guessed it. It was his destiny.

College and medical school were paid for by Royce, with no murmurs of protests. Mac never fooled himself that Royce did so because he wanted Mac to succeed, or because he supported his son's chosen profession. No, it was all about maintaining appearances, about playing the Good Father. Mac went along with the charade in order to get his MD and then to specialize in neurology. He never worried about money, not for one second, and that gave him the freedom to focus on being the best. And when Mac focused on something, it happened.

The happiest day of Mac's life was when he'd saved up enough money to send his father a check for his education. He included a note explaining that he didn't want anything to do with Royce ever again, that the two men were to go their separate ways. Mac never got a reply, nor did he expect one. He and Royce hadn't spoken in more than a decade now and Mac didn't even notice anymore.

So, that was his life back then, his life for a long, long time. He worked damn hard and he earned a whole lot of money and he didn't let anyone touch him in his core. He kept everything casual and he kept everyone at arm's length and he perfected a funny, charming, golden personality. At least, that was his life until Mirrie. With her, all bets were off and all he wanted was to hold her, to keep her safe. To love her.

Then she just left him, left him alone. Just walked away without a word, left a screaming, gaping black hole in the middle of his world. And for the first time in his life, Mac had understood what Royce had gone through when he'd lost Mac's mother. It made Mac feel sorry for his father, in a strange way. It made him understand the man, maybe just a little bit.

He drank some coffee and stared at Mirrie now, still marveling at all the outward changes. Not that he minded them, not at all. Yeah, he’d loved her all-natural beauty from before, her flowing blonde hair and her loose clothes, but she looked incredible now too. He lingered on her face piercings, zeroed in on the one in her lip. He longed to give it a gentle tug with his teeth, to run his tongue around it as he kissed her. He wanted to clench his hands in her brightly-dyed hair, lick the tattoo on her neck as he stared deep in to those incredible eyes and thrust inside her hot little body.

And speaking of her body… his gaze roamed over it hungrily. Mirrie had gained some weight in the past four years and damned if it didn’t look fantastic on her. Before, she’d been too thin, a bit too physically delicate and Mac had been mindful of this when they’d been in bed together. Christ, she’d been smashed to bits by those MC animals and her body had still been a bit weak, even a year after. More than once, he’d been terrified of hurting her by accident.

Now, though? She was curvy and strong and all woman. Her clothes hugged her shape nice and tight, and her neckline plunged just deep enough for Mac to get a glimpse of the tops of her breasts. He knew that if she revealed a tiny bit more skin – no more than two inches down – he’d see the laceration scar on her chest from a man’s ring.

Mirrie had plenty of scars, all over her, some small and some shockingly large. Mac knew that first-hand. He’d kissed every single one of them over and over and murmured how beautiful she was. She’d wept at his gentleness more than once and he’d held her safe and close as she’d cried. His stomach clenched hard when he remembered how good it had felt to make her feel desired and safe. How
right
it had felt to do that for her.

His bright blue gaze turned to Spider now. The guy was freaky-looking, no doubt about that, but Mac had been watching him all morning too, and he now knew that Spider was OK. Protective of Mirrie, a nice guy to the customers, warm and open to him. Mac suspected that Spider was firmly on his side and he was nothing but grateful that the guy hadn’t kicked him out of his café.

The door opened and a man came in. As soon as Spider saw him, his eyes lit up. He came out from behind the counter to greet the man, gave him a lingering kiss. Mac watched as the couple hugged, then walked over to a private table on the other side of the room.

As they sat holding hands and talking softly, something twigged in Mac’s head. He frowned, looked down in to his empty coffee cup, tried to think what was niggling at him. Something about Spider – something about Spider’s boyfriend?

That was when the puzzle pieces all fell in to place, suddenly and completely. Mac was astounded that it had taken him this damn long to put the picture together, but then again, he’d been so focused on Mirrie all day, he hadn’t had the brain power to consider anyone or anything else.

Ace’s ex-boyfriend owns a café down on Brock Street, Aidan said. Mirrie said that Spider had negotiated successfully for her safety… that he had something on the Fallen Angels, something big.

Well, Mac’s ass was currently parked on the corner of Brock and if Spider was Ace’s ex,
that
was about as big a bargaining chip as Spider could throw at the MC Vice. Mac stared over at Spider and his boyfriend, absolutely convinced that he was looking at the biggest fucking secret in Ace’s life.

The biggest secret – and the biggest threat.

**

Mirrie heaved a sigh as three o’clock inched closer. She was wiped out, close to tears, shaky and upset. Having Shane sit
right the fuck there
for eight hours had been nothing short of devastating: ignoring him had damn near killed her. But she’d done it.

She nodded at Spider, headed in to the staff room. She was sure that Shane would try to prevent her from leaving and she braced herself for that. She’d call the cops if he followed her out of the café, she resolved. No way he was getting her alone… no way she could handle that.

Slowly, trying to find the energy for the fight that she was sure was waiting for her, she tugged on her jean jacket. Her face in the mirror was strained and drawn and she sighed again. God, she needed a decent sleep, but she was sure that wasn’t going to happen tonight.

She straightened her shoulders, marched out of the back room. Sure enough, Shane was standing, those amazing blue eyes fixed on her. She shook her head, walked over to him, stared at him hard.

He looked down at her, shocked that she was actually acknowledging him. “Umm… hi?”

“Don’t follow me,” she said abruptly.

Mac grinned at her in that totally disarming way that he had. “I wasn’t going to.”

“I’m serious,” she insisted. “Legally, you can sit here and be a paying customer and I can’t do a damn thing about that if Spider says it’s OK… but if you follow me out of this café? That’s stalking, plain and simple.”

“I know.”

“I’ll call the cops.”

“I get it.”

She paused. “So… you give up?”

Mac crossed his arms and gave her that grin again. “You’re kidding, yeah?”

“No.” She narrowed her eyes. “I won’t talk to you. Not ever.”

“You’re talking to me now,” he pointed out.

“Only to tell you that whatever you hoped to get by sitting her for eight hours, it hasn’t worked.”

“Maybe not today,” he said agreeably. “But there’s always tomorrow.”

She froze. “Tomorrow?”

“And the day after,” he said. “And the day after that and the day after that. Really, I can come and sit here and drink coffee for a while, sweet thing.” He winked. “A good,
long
while.”

“You wouldn’t,” she whispered.

“Oh, I would.” His grin was gone now and his handsome face was intense. “You
know
I would.”

“Shane, please… don’t.”

“Then talk to me, Mirrie.” God, the way he said her name in that husky voice was almost her undoing. “Just talk to me. Ten minutes is all I’m asking for.”

“No.”

“Five?”

“
No
.”

He made a sound in his throat, half-sigh and half-grunt of impatience. “Babe, I can keep you safe. I can keep us both safe.”

“You can’t.”

“I
can
. Let me tell you –”

“No.” She wrenched open the door, stomping down hard on the bright burst of hope that had flared in her chest at his words. “Stay away from me, Shane. For both of our sakes.”

“I can’t.” His tone was resigned and final at the same time. “I won’t. Not until I tell you what I know, what I can do.”

Mirrie launched herself out the door and in to the busy street, desperate to get away from him. Just before the door swung shut behind her, she heard him growl, “See you tomorrow, babe.”

He meant it. He wasn’t going to give up, not ever, not until she let him try to convince her to take him back. And given half a chance, he
would
convince her. After today, she was certain of it. Her aching heart would urge her to believe anything he said; her treacherous body would take him back inside. Mirrie would have hope again, for the first time in four years – and this weakness and need would sign both of their death warrants.

That was when she knew what she had to do.

Chapter Five

Aidan opened the door of his apartment, smiled down at Maria.

“Hey, darlin’,” he drawled at her. “How you doing?”

Maria Torres stepped in to Aidan and Gabi’s home, handed over a bag of takeaway Indian food.

“I’m good,” she said in her soft voice. “You doing alright?”

“Always,” Aidan said with a wink. “And how’s your man?”

Right away, Maria blushed, just like Aidan knew she would. “Dillon’s fine. He’s bouncing tonight so you’ll see him at Curves.”

“Awesome.” Aidan took the food in to the open-plan kitchen and set it on the counter. “We’ll pick up chicks together.”

Maria giggled. “Yeah. Like
that’ll
happen.” She glanced around the cozy apartment. “Gabi’s here?”

“In the bathroom.”

Something in his voice made Maria look over at him. At first glance, he seemed to be just fine: all golden grace and large, rangy muscles in well-worn jeans and a tight white t-shirt. Aidan was all about Southern charm and devil-may-care grins – but Maria took in the tired lines around his gold eyes, the way he was holding himself a bit too straight, and she knew that he was thinking about leaving Gabi here while he went to work. As usual, Maria would be with her, but still. Aidan hated to go, especially when he worked a late shift.

“How’s she doing?” Maria asked quietly.

Aidan shrugged, shot a look down the hall to the closed bathroom door. He heard the shower still running and relaxed a bit.

“She’s better,” he said slowly.

“She’s still off the sofa? Still sleeping with you in your bed?”

“Yeah.”

“Nightmares?”

“Some.” Aidan paused, decided to be honest with Gabi’s half-sister. “Lots of them, actually. About being trapped in the dark and not being able to breathe.”

Maria nodded. “She’s still refusing to talk to someone?”

“Yeah.” Aidan exhaled, hard. “She says she’ll cope just fine on her own and with my support. That she just needs some more time.”

“Well, time will help for sure and so will your love,” Maria said. “But Gabi needs more than that. She was buried alive…
nobody
can deal with that without professional help.”

“I know, hon,” Aidan said. He hesitated, took the plunge. “Maybe you can try to talk to her? Maybe she’ll listen to you?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.” Maria’s tone was firm and Aidan was amazed – yet again – at how quickly this sweet, shy woman could turn all kick-ass in the blink of an eye. “It’s one of the reasons I came over to stay with her tonight.”

“You have an agenda, huh?” Aidan grinned a bit. “Her favorite Indian food to butter her up and then you move on in for the kill?”

“Aw, Aidan.” Maria’s dark eyes were sparkling. “You know me so well.”

“I do, darlin’.” He heard the shower turn off and he switched on the kettle to make the ladies some tea. “And you know what
else
I know?”

“What?” Maria sat down on the sofa.

“That you’re the girl for the job… if
anyone
can talk your sister in to seeing a therapist, I do believe it’s you.”

“I hope you’re right,” Maria said. “Because she needs this – I think she needs it more than any of us really know.”

**

Gabriela Torres stared at herself in the bathroom mirror. She heard voices in the living room and she knew that Maria and Aidan were talking. Probably about her.

Not that she could blame them, really. If it had been Maria who’d been taken by the Fallen Angels and buried alive in that lonely mountain clearing, deep in the earth and far away from the light and the air? You’re damn right that Gabi would be having whispered conferences in the living room with her boyfriend Dillon Saunders, trying to figure out how the hell to help Maria. God, Gabi would do
anything
to help her sister, if the situation was reversed.

Not that Maria had escaped the whole Fallen Angels mess unscathed herself, of course. She and Dillon had been attacked up at Open Skies Ranch and it had turned in to a bloodbath. Maria had ended up killing a man to protect herself and Dillon, and even though the police had decided that no charges would be laid against Maria, Gabi knew that she was still struggling with guilt. Taking a life – even the life of a violent, brutal man who’d been intent on killing her and Dillon – was not something Maria had ever expected to have to do.

Gabi shook herself a bit to banish the gloomy thoughts, then brushed her long, dark hair and pulled it up in to a messy ponytail. She contemplated her face, rubbed in a bit of moisturizer, slicked on some lipstick. No, she wasn’t looking incredible, but at least the purple circles under her eyes had receded. Sleeping next to Aidan meant that she got some rest at night – not nearly enough, but some. Considering that at one point, Gabi had thought that she’d never shut her eyes again, she figured she’d take what she could get.

She smiled at herself in the mirror to practice the expression, then opened the door and walked down the hall. Maria got to her feet and the sisters embraced.

“Hi,” Maria said. “How are you?”

“OK.” Gabi lifted her head, suddenly alert. “Did you bring Indian food?”

Aidan laughed. “She sure did.”

“Oooh.” Gabi rushed in to the kitchen. “Lemme see.”

Immediately, Aidan stepped to one side. “Well, I know better than to get between you and your tandoori. I’m off, baby.”

Gabi looked up at his gorgeous face. “I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Those strong arms wrapped around her and Gabi curled up against his broad chest. “I’ll miss you too. You’ll be OK?”

She nodded. “You’ll call me before I go to bed?”

Tenderly, Aidan kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. “You know I will. And if you need me, just pick up the phone. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Gently, reluctantly, he released her. His eyes met Maria’s and he smiled.

“Have a good night, ladies. I’ll be back around two o’clock, I figure… I’ll try not to wake y’all up when I come in.”

They watched him walk out the door, looked at each other. Maria moved to the kitchen and started to take down plates and tea cups.

“You hungry?” she asked Gabi. “I brought lots.”

“Hell, yeah,” Gabi said. “Let’s pile the plates high, OK? Totally pig out and gain ten pounds?”

Maria laughed and started to dish out generous portions of saffron rice. “Aidan and Dillon will love that, huh?”

“They sure will. They love us curvy.” Gabi poured the boiling water in to the teapot. “So, how’s the nanny job?”

Maria’s face lit up. “Oh, great. Keira’s adorable and Zoe’s cool.”

“Zoe’s running that tattoo parlour owned by the Road Devils, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What did Dillon think about you being around people to do with a motorcycle club?” Gabi asked slowly. “After everything that’s happened with the Fallen Angels?”

Maria sighed. “Yeah, he was a bit hesitant. But then he talked to King and King told him that the new President’s moved heaven and earth to make the Devils legit.”

“Yeah, Aidan mentioned that,” Gabi said. “Wolf Somebody?”

“Wolf Connor.” Maria poured some tea for Gabi, then herself. “Zoe told me that they’ve been good friends for over twenty years and the whole reason she moved here from North Dakota and took this job was
because
Wolf’s stopped all the drug trafficking and prostitution stuff.”

“So Zoe really thinks it’s safe for her to work for Wolf?”

“Yeah. She says that she’d never work for the MC the way it was even a year ago – and no way she’d bring a baby in to that kind of mess.”

“How old’s Keira again?” Gabi said.

“Ten months.” Maria smiled. “And she’s gorgeous.”

“It’s a long way from working reception at a hotel and ranch, huh?” Gabi teased her a bit. “You miss Open Skies Ranch?”

Maria was silent for a few seconds. “Yeah. Yeah, I do miss it. But right now, I’m really happy to be here in Denver with Dillon and you… and I like taking care of Keira while Zoe’s at work.” She shrugged. “It’s not going to be forever, Gabi, and we all know that. I’ll go back to my work and life up at Open Skies – but not for a while.”

“I know, sis,” Gabi said quietly. “I’m so, so glad you’re here… I need you now.”

Maria took her hand. “And I need you. I wouldn’t be able to get through any of this without you and Dillon and Sarah and Naomi and the rest of the guys.”

Gabi laughed a bit. “Yeah… we’re kind of a weird extended family, huh?”

“You are.” Maria picked up her plate. “And you’re all the family I need right now.”

The women sat at the small table in the corner of the kitchen, dug in with gusto. As they ate, they chatted about nothing much, but Gabi knew that something was on Maria’s mind.

After dinner, Maria grabbed the plates and got to her feet. “I’ll wash up.”

“Leave them for now,” Gabi said. “And tell me what you want to say to me.”

Maria stared at her sister for a few seconds, then grinned and ran her hands through her dark curls. “No bullshit, huh?”

“None.” Gabi shook her head. “I may not have known you for long, but I
do
know a few of your tells.”

“Fair enough. I know a few of yours.”

“Yeah, no surprise.”

They smiled at each other, then Maria looked serious and sat down again.

“I haven’t told you this, but I’ve been talking to someone about what happened up at Open Skies.”

“You – you are?” Gabi wasn’t surprised that Maria was doing this, but she
was
surprised to only be hearing about this now. “A therapist?”

“Gabi,” Maria said gently. “I shot a man in the face and killed him. I was covered in his blood and brains.
Of course
I’m talking to a therapist.”

“Is it helping?”

“Yeah. A lot. And I really want you to meet her, too.”

Gabi fell silent, tracing a pattern on the table over and over again. Maria took her hand.

“Her name’s Francine and she’s very good, Gabi. She’s quiet and smart and I just – I trusted her from the word go.’

Gabi bit her lip.

“Can you think about it?” Maria heard the tremor in her voice. “Talk to Aidan?”

Gabi let out her breath. “I know you’re right. I know I need to see someone.”

Maria shut her eyes with relief.

“I’ve been leaning on Aidan, depending on him to pull me through this and he’s doing great, you know?” Gabi paused. “But it’s not fair to him. He was hurt too and he’s dealing with all this anger about what happened and… well. I’ve been selfish.”

“Sweetie,” Maria said. “You’ve been
scared
. Aidan helped you start to get past that and he’s been nothing short of awesome. But he’s not qualified to help you cope, not in some really important ways.”

Gabi nodded. “I – I know.”

“So. You’ll talk to Francine?”

“Yes.” Gabi finally met her sister’s eyes and managed a real smile. “Yes. I’ll talk to Francine.”

**

Aidan stared at King in horror. “
No
charges? Fucking
none
?”

“None,” King said grimly. “The cops can’t make a single fucking thing stick to the Fallen Angels
or
Trigger
or
Ace.”

“Even with Gabi’s statement?” Jax said in disbelief. “That she heard them kill that Santos guy?”

King shrugged his massive shoulders. “Gabi never
saw
them kill Miguel Santos and anyway, his body still hasn’t turned up. No body, no crime.”

Aidan cursed under his breath, fingered the bullet scar on his neck.

“And,” King continued on. “Anyone to do with Gabi’s kidnapping and the attack on Dillon and Maria up at Open Skies is either dead or long gone. The only guy we have is that out-of-towner brought in from Boston to do the job. He’s talking a streak a mile wide, but the cops are having a hard time taking the word of a contract killer seriously and nobody that he’s named is anywhere to be found.”

“So – what?” Aidan demanded. “Trigger and Ace kill a guy and then bring in some contract assholes to kidnap and kill people and they’re going to get away with it?”

“Aidan,” King said. “You know damn good and well that the night that Maria and Dillon and you and Gabi got attacked, there was a huge party at the Fallen Angels clubhouse. Trigger has very helpfully provided the video from the front and back doors and it shows him and Ace and everyone else going in to party. It
also
shows that none of them left and they were in the clubhouse at the time of the attacks.”

“It’s legit?” Jax asked. “The video?”

“Totally,” King said heavily. “After the cops checked it, I called in a favor and got my hands on it. My own team looked at every second of the tape and Tex and Valentina came back with the same conclusion: no doctoring, no messing with it.”

“Shit, man,” Jax said.

“I know.” King sighed. “So that video proves that the Angels weren’t anywhere
near
your place, Aidan,
or
up at Open Skies and there’s no way we can connect them to anything that happened. Not with hard evidence, at any rate, because there is none.”

“Fuck,” Aidan ground out and started to pace back and forth in Jax’s office. “How the hell am I supposed to tell Gabriela all of this? How do I tell her that the men who tried to kill her and her sister are just gonna walk? That they’re still out there, wandering around free and happy?”

“You honestly think this is over?” King asked him, astonished. “Fuck, Carter… you think I’m letting sleeping dogs lie? Does that sound like me?”

Aidan paused. “What do you mean?”

“What do you
think
I mean?” King growled. “I don’t give a flying fuck about hard evidence, man. I ain’t a court of law. I know as well as you do who ordered the hit on Maria and Dillon, who shot you, who threw Gabi in the dirt. Just ‘cause all the shit that holds up on paper is missing doesn’t mean that we don’t know the truth.”

“Yeah,” Aidan said slowly.

“So? You don’t think I’m working on it with my people?”

“You are?” Aidan said.

“How could you think that I’m
not
?” King said. “I mean, yeah, I was waiting on the police investigation to come back with a decision, but let’s face it. We all knew what they’d conclude since they’re constrained by what they can prove. Right?”