Nobody's Hero (31 page)

I shall lift my arms

and my roots will set off

to seek another land.

“Ah, Joni, baby. Was that you on the wind
brushing my cheek? I’d convinced myself I’d imagined you. I hope
you’ve found the land you sought.”

He repeated the words he’d said to her back
then.

“Safe journey, little subbie.”

He remembered turning around minutes later to
find sixteen-year-old Karla Paxton with her neon-pink and black
hair shivering in a thin coat in the middle of a winter squall off
Lake Michigan.

Almost as if Joni had brought them
together.

Yeah, right. Dead wives don’t send their
grieving husbands jailbait. Not even Joni’s warped sense of humor
would go that far.

Almost nine years later, though, Karla had
come back to him, a grown woman. Now what was he going to do about
her. Them?

* * *

The theme to
Mission Impossible
jolted
Karla from her thoughts.

Adam.

Karla dreaded answering this call, but knew
she’d have to talk with him eventually. She’d promised to call him
every evening, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to do so today
at the time they’d agreed on. Her reluctance wasn’t just because of
the pain she’d heard in his voice when they spoke yesterday. Damián
said it was his anniversary.

With a sigh, she pressed the accept button
and put the phone to her ear. “Hello?” Her heart pounded. She’d
missed hearing his voice so much and waited with no small amount of
anxiety for him to speak.

“Karla? Are you okay?” Tears pricked her
eyes. Why did he always have to ask the question that resulted in
tears? When she didn’t respond right away, he added, “What’s
wrong?” She heard the worry in his voice.

She shook her head, trying to compose herself
so he wouldn’t know she’d been crying, but it was a losing
battle.

“Karla? Tell me what’s going on. Now.”

His Dom voice gave her some confidence. She
didn’t want to pull Adam away from Minneapolis, where she hoped he
was putting Joni’s ghost to rest, but she knew he’d be torn to come
home when he heard what had happened.

“Oh, Adam.” She drew a deep breath, trying to
find the words. There was nothing she could do but tell him.
“Damián’s niece…she’s been raped.”
By her father.
But Karla
just couldn’t speak those heinous words aloud.

"God damn it." He was silent for a few
seconds. “How bad?”

"She’s home. Devastated, of course. I don’t
know much more. Damián, um, didn't say a lot.”

“How’s he taking it?”

Well, other than pounding a fist through
the wall at the club tonight, he’s holding up as well as can be
expected
.

“He’s pretty upset, Adam. I’m trying to
convince him to fly out to San Diego, rather than ride that
motorcycle.” She didn’t want to think about what might happen to
Damián riding the bike in his current frame of mind. A shudder
passed through her at the memory of Ian’s death. “I’m going to fly
out to be with him. He…shouldn’t be alone right now.”

But he doesn’t need me. He needs you.

“I’ve also had some experience with…well, I
can possibly be of some help with his niece and the family.” She
didn’t need to go into dealing with Cassie’s rape.

“Teresa. His niece’s name is Teresa,” Adam
explained. “Where’s Damián now?”

I have no clue. And I’m scared, Adam. Please
come home.

“I think he’s at his apartment, hopefully
getting ready to leave. Maybe you can convince him to fly out with
me. My dad can probably get us on a flight out tonight with his
airline.”

“I’ll call him. My flight leaves day after
tomorrow, but I’ll see if I can get one out tomorrow. What else do
you need me to do, hon?”

Hold me
. “I don’t want you to leave
Minneapolis until you’ve done everything you need to do.”
Please
bury your ghosts, Adam.
“Maybe then you can fly out to meet us
in California.”

“I’m about finished here. I have a feeling
Damián’s going to want to stay out there awhile. His sister’s kids
are like his kids, but he’s closest to Teresa. He helped raise her
before he deployed to Iraq. Look, I’ll call Damián as soon as we
hang up, but if I don’t get ahold of him, tell him to leave the
Harley. I’ll ride it out there for him. He’ll have the bike in a
few days.”

Bile rose in her throat. “No, Adam! I don’t
want you riding that thing either!”
Oh, God, no.
Her heart
pounded as images of Adam’s body, mangled and broken from a
motorcycle accident, made her stomach lurch into her throat.

“I’ll be fine. I’m caref—”

“Call you right back!” She disconnected the
cell phone, dropping it onto the bed, and ran to the bathroom where
she hurled her dinner. She heard the
Mission Impossible
ring
several more times, but ignored it as she waited to make sure there
wasn’t anything else coming up.

After ten minutes, without any further dry
heaves, she got up and walked to the sink, brushed her teeth, and
rinsed her mouth. She picked up the phone—twelve missed calls.
Persistent. She smiled and hit the callback button.

“Are you okay? What happened?” The worry in
his voice warmed her heart. He cared.

“Nothing. I was…I thought there was someone
at the door.” Why was she lying to him? A good sub would never lie
to her Dom. But she was only trying to get him to worry less. Adam
liked to be in control and clearly he must be feeling so helpless
right now. Besides, she wasn’t sure she and Adam had a serious
Dom/sub relationship. They seemed to be more Friends With Benefits,
like he had been with Grant.

“What took so long to call me back?”

“Look, Adam. I’m fine. We need to focus on
Damián right now.”

“I’m sorry, kitten, but you scared the piss
out of me when you hung up like that.”

Yes, he cared. Of course he did. In his own
way. She wasn’t sure he’d have anything to do with her when he came
back from visiting Joni’s ghost—and Joni’s mother. Damián said he
came back from there every year depressed for two months, until he
got through the holidays. Karla hoped to make the holidays special
for him this year, but everything was up in the air. How long would
she be out in California? Did he ever want to celebrate the
holidays with her?

“I’m sorry I’ll be missing some performances
at the club.”

“Don’t worry about the fucking club right
now.” He paused and cleared his throat. “Sorry. Look, I’ll talk
with Marc and Luke about helping with the demonstration schedule
and they can pull in some of the more experienced Doms to help, as
well. I’ll call Grant and ask her to hold down the fort. She’s good
with the business end of things.”

The mention of Grant’s name made her feel a
little queasy again. The Marine had a relationship with Adam that
Karla could only envy. Grant could be herself, strong and willful,
and he still cared for her. Karla needed to be meek and submissive,
which wasn’t easy for someone as headstrong as she was.

“Karla?”

“I’m here.”

He sighed. “I’m glad you’re there for Damián.
Just be careful. He may…go into a rage or something.”

Um, ya think?
The hole in the drywall
flashed across her mind, but Adam didn’t need to know about that
yet. He’d just worry unnecessarily—even more than he’d be worrying
tonight as it was. Truth be told, Damián’s rage had frightened the
hell out of her. He’d always been so controlled with his
submissives, as if he had a tight rein on whatever demons were
festering inside. Until tonight, when he’d gotten off the phone and
put his fist through the wall, she’d never seen his “inner beast,”
as those at the club called it, totally unleashed.

“Just give him his space if that happens. I
don’t want you to get hurt.”

“I’ll be okay.” It touched her that he was
worried about her in all of this, but she also heard the concern
for Damián, who was like a son to him. “I’ve learned how to protect
myself against Marines, remember?”

“This is serious, Karla. He can pack a punch.
Believe me, I know. Just be careful. He would never hurt you
intentionally, but if he’s asleep or…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

He sighed. “I know you’ll know just what to
do. I’m glad you can be there for him. I’ll get out to the coast
just as soon as I can.”

Please, Sir, don’t ride the motorcycle.

She knew there was no point telling him not
to do something, though. She didn’t have that kind of relationship
with him. “If you have any trouble getting on a flight tomorrow,
let me know.”

After they said their goodbyes, Karla
speed-dialed Damián’s number. No answer. Worried about him, she
decided to go looking for him at his apartment. He wasn’t there—or
at least didn’t answer her knocks. Maybe he was at the shop.
Pulling the mid-sized sedan Adam had rented for her into the alley,
she got out and walked through the back door of the garage.

Damián’s gaze was fixed on the sheet of steel
he was pounding, but she didn’t think he saw it for what it was. No
doubt, in his mind, he was pounding the brains out of his
ex-brother-in-law. The muscles corded and rippled in his arms and
chest with each blow. Karla shuddered. She wished Adam were here.
He’d know how to talk him down, get him through the pain. He was
experienced and wise and…
not here. Deal with it, Karla
.

Knowing not to surprise him, she called out,
“Damián!”

He continued pounding the steel. She wasn’t
sure if he’d heard her, but still knew not to get too close when he
was so preoccupied. She remembered what had happened with Adam on
his deck. “Damián!” His hand rose to strike again, but froze in
mid-air. She filled the silence. “It’s Karla. We need to talk. Make
some plans.”

For a few moments, Damián just stared at the
object he’d pounded into oblivion, breathing heavily from the
recent exertions. Then he turned toward her, dropping the tool to
the floor with a clang. His glassy expression slowly focused on
her.

“I should have killed him when I had the
chance.”

* * *

Damián watched as Karla’s brows furrowed and
he knew she probably thought he’d lost it. But he’d never been more
certain about anything in his entire life. He’d been a juvenile
back then. Probably wouldn’t have served much longer in juvie than
he did for the assault. Then Julio, his bastard former
brother-in-law, would never have been able to continue to torment
his sister, Rosa, or her two kids.
I’m so sorry, princesa.
Poor Teresa. If he’d only finished what he’d started when he was
sixteen and bashed in Julio’s face in after he’d attacked Rosa,
Teresa wouldn’t have been raped.

“Damián, we need to deal with today and the
future. I’ve talked to my dad and he’s gotten us both tickets to
San Diego tonight.”

“You can’t leave the club.”

“Everything’s settled. I’ve spoken with Adam.
He’s going to…get your motorcycle out to you, but you need to be
with Teresa and your sister as soon as possible. If we make the
flight tonight, we’ll be there early in the morning. You need to go
pack now. The car’s in the alley. Why don’t you close up the shop
now?”

Damián looked around. His head pounded the
rhythm of the slapper he’d just been using. He couldn’t think.
There was something he was supposed to be finishing up here
tonight. He couldn’t just leave the shop.

“Look at me, Damián.”

He tried to slow down his breathing, then
turned his gaze toward Karla, who now stood a few feet away—just
out of arm’s reach. Waiting. Watching. What did she think he was
going to do?

He could control the beast inside. Couldn’t
he?

He stood taller. “You don’t need to come with
me.” She took another step closer.

Waiting. Watching.

“I’m going with you. I had a friend who
was…who went through this once. I think I can be of help if I’m
there.”

Damián felt his chest tighten. How was he
going to make this better for Teresa? What could he say or do to
undo the damage?

“Take slow, deep breaths, Damián. Now.”

He followed the familiar command Adam had
used on him years ago, and felt a bit of the tension ease. He
closed his eyes.

Karla’s hand rubbed his arm in long, sweeping
strokes. “Young people are more resilient than we think. If she’s
surrounded by those who love her, she’ll get through this, Damián.
We’re going to help her get through this. Now, let’s get going.
They need us.”

Karla took his hand and he grabbed her arm as
if she were a lifeline.
Oh, God, Karla. I’ve never been so
fucking scared in my life.
Even losing his foot in Iraq hadn’t
left him feeling this helpless and scared, and that time in his
life had been pretty fucking intense. Why couldn’t someone have
hurt Damián, rather than Teresa? She was an innocent. Just a
kid.

He couldn’t have loved her more if she were
his own daughter. He’d tried to be there for her after Rosa
divorced Julio, but with Damián in juvie, then the Marines, and
later living half a country away, they’d mostly just talked on the
phone, except for Damián’s visits several times a year.
Madre de
Dios
, how could he face her? Would she want to have anything to
do with a man right now? Maybe she did need Karla there.

Karla’s arms squeezing him tight drew him
back to the present. “I know you’re scared, but you’re not alone in
this. You have me right now, and Adam will get out there as soon as
he can. We’ll be there for you, Damián. And for Teresa and your
whole family. Just stay focused. She’ll survive this, but she’ll
need you to be strong for her.”

Damián drew a lungful of air and forced
himself to smile at Karla. He’d gotten close to her in the months
since she’d shown up to audition at the club. She’d become like
another sister to him, once he’d seen there was something going on
between her and Adam and backed off. Not that his surrogate dad was
moving very fast with her, well, until lately. She wasn’t really
Damián’s type anyway. He preferred petite blondes. But he knew he
didn’t want anyone else standing by his side in the days to come.
Karla had an inner strength that he’d need to help pull him
through—to help him stay strong for Teresa.