Safe With Him (12 page)

“Who does he work for?”

“Hugo.”

“So he wasn’t Hugo, but was sent by Hugo?” When Storm didn’t answer, she kept going. “So this Hugo person sent this guy after me because he thought I was with Draco, or the other cop—what’s his name?”

“Velgada.”

“Yeah. So this Hugo thought I was with one or both of them and sent his henchman after me. Why?”

“Don’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“No, Ree, I’m not.”

“Yeah, Storm. You are!”

“Ree…”

“Storm…you know something. What does this have to do with you?”

“Nothin’.”

“Compromise. Either you tell me what the hell is going on—”

“No fuckin’ compromise. I told you, it’s got nothin’ to do with you. Leave. It. Alone.”

“It may have started out with nothing to do with me, but I have a couple of bruises that state it has something to do with me now!”

“That’s been taken care of.”

“What the hell does that mean? And who the hell took care of it?”

“Ree! Leave. It. The. Fuck. Alone!” She could hear Storm’s teeth grinding together at each word, knew he was pissed, but still.

“Answer my damn questions.”

“No.”

“What?” she questioned Storm, knowing he wasn’t telling her something. But that was the time Draco decided to walk back in.

He looked at her, then at Storm, then swung his head back to look at her. “You okay?” Draco asked her.

“No,” she stated stubbornly, crossing her arms at her chest, then cut her eyes back to Storm.

“Am I interruptin’?” She heard Draco ask, but when she turned to look at him he was looking at Storm, not her.

“No. You’re not. I gotta go.” Storm moved to the door.

“Storm,” she called, but he didn’t turn or stop. “Storm!” she called louder, but this time it was to a closed door.

She turned to face Draco. “You want to tell me what the hell is going on with my brother?”

“No,” Draco answered blandly.

“Fine. Whatever. Y’all do what y’all got to do, and I’ll do what I got to do.” And with that she turned and walked back down the hall to her room.

Twenty minutes later, after she had changed into jeans and another top, threw her hair back in a quick ponytail, she walked out of her room, straight into the living room, grabbed her bag and went to the door.

She had the door halfway open when a hand shot out from behind her and slammed the door shut. She whirled around to see Draco standing close, one arm stretched out by her shoulder, his hand pressed to the door, keeping it closed.

“Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?” he snapped.

“Out,” she snapped back.

“Out where?” he demanded.

“Out the door.”

“Breezie, do not fuck with me.”

“Drakon, do not call me Breezie.”

“Move away from the door.”

“I will just as soon as you move out of my way.”

“You’re not leavin’.”

“The hell I ain’t!”

“The hell you are!”

“And who’s going to stop me?”

“Me.”

“You think so?” She challenged, getting pissed.

“Know it, sweetheart,” he snarled.

“We’ll just see about that,” she stated, then whipped around and stomped back down the hall to her bedroom, slammed the door and dug into her bag for her phone, but before she had the chance to dial Storm’s number, she heard a tap on her door followed by, “Bree?” spoken softly.

When she didn’t respond, she heard “Baby,” and watched her door open and Draco walk in. He didn’t stop until he was right in front of her, then grabbed her hand and tugged her down to sit on the bed with him. “Baby,” he repeated softly as he rubbed the back of his fingers back and forth across her cheek. “Give me a day. Just twenty-four hours,” he asked her, but she didn’t know what he was asking for.

“A day for what?”

“To find out. To keep you safe. To spend with you,” he spoke softly and it sounded really sweet, but she still didn’t understand what he was asking of her.

“To find out what? To keep me safe from what, or who?” She didn’t even attempt to try and question the ‘to spend with you’ part.

“To find out what’s goin’ on. To keep you safe from whatever is goin’ on. To get to know you. But more importantly, for you to get to know me. Know ‘me’ Bree. Not the cop. Me. The man,” he answered all of her questions, even the ones she didn’t ask.

“Why?” She didn’t clarify the part she was asking about, but then again, she didn’t think he needed it.

“You feel it, I know you do. You might not want to, but you do.” Yep, she didn’t need to clarify. He knew what she was asking, even if she didn’t want to admit she did feel something. “Please,” he added softly as he brought his head to hers, his lips to hers. “Please, baby,” he whispered the words, just before his lips touched hers.

“I have to work tonight,” she mumbled against his lips, hoping to discourage him…and purposely not answering his question.

He pulled his head back, looked her in the eyes and whispered, “I’ll take you, hang until you get done, then take you home.”

“I…uh…have things I have to do today, before work,” she told him. It was true, she did. But she was also holding on to the hope that he would give up on the whole twenty-four hours thing.

“Any…
thing
… I can help you with?” he asked her, still whispering softly, but now he had to add that damn sexy grin.

“It’s Tuesday. On Tuesdays I usually go to the campus for a few hours.” She knew there was no man who would want to just hang out at a campus this time of day.

“I can do that,” he crooned, still grinning.

She was starting to think he was catching on that she was
trying
to make him forget about the twenty-four hours thing, but she wasn’t quite done yet. “Don’t you have to uh…work?” She raised an eyebrow. Yeah, even cops just couldn’t run all over the place…she didn’t think…?

“Work’s been sorted.” He chuckled.

She narrowed her eyes at him.
What the hell was so funny
? Didn’t he get that she was trying to get rid of him?

“Baby, just say yes. There is no excuse you can come up with that’s gonna drive me off.” He announced and added that cocky sexy grin.

“Well, crap.” Huh. He knew exactly what she was doing. Then she heard him laugh.
Awww crap
. “That was out loud, wasn’t it?” she asked.

He nodded while he was still laughing, then leaned into her and kissed her lips, lightly.

“Yeah, baby, that was out loud.”

“Nice ride. It’s new, right?” Draco asked as they were getting into her car.

Bree had finally given in with a “fine” and a pout that was so fuckin’ cute it took everything in him not to take her right then and there. But he was determined to show her that she meant more to him than a quick ‘fuck and fly.’ So instead he moved from her bed, then her bedroom, while informing her to get ready and he would take her anywhere she needed to go.

Five minutes later she walked back into the living room with that big ass bag of hers, and informed him that he could come with her, but she was the one that would be driving, and if he didn’t like it he could follow her in his own car. Or not.

So here he was sitting his ass in the passenger’s seat of her car.

“No, not new-new. I’ve had it about a year now,” Bree said, but then asked, “Why?”

“Couple of weeks ago you were drivin’ a green Escort.” He reached for his seatbelt.

“I don’t have any other car.” She turned and looked at him like she just knew he had confused her with another woman.

“The day I met you, before I met you, I saw you gettin’ out of an Escort.” He didn’t add the fact that her fantastic ass was the first thing he noticed about her and that was the only reason why he noticed the car in the first place.

“I don’t…oh, wait. That wasn’t my car. That was a loaner. My car was in the shop and because of my working hours the guy who owns the garage, Bud, gave me that car to use, and then swapped my car sometime that evening.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Probably while I was at your house. I’m not sure…when I, uh…left…I didn’t notice, but when I went to work Saturday night I had my car back,” she finished.

He sat back while she drove and thought,
no damn wonder I couldn’t find her for over two weeks
. He was looking for the wrong car.

“You take classes at…what campus?” He wanted to get to know her better, and he didn’t think she was going to volunteer a whole helluva lot on her own.

“It’s just a small community college in Roanoke.” Was all she said.

Shaking his head to himself,
guess we’ll have to play twenty questions
, he thought. “What classes are you takin’ at this small community college in Roanoke?” He couldn’t stop the little chuckle that escaped.

She cut her eyes when she glanced over at him, then back to the road before she finally answered, “Just some business classes.”

If he had to ride instead of drive, which he did not like to do, he at least was going to make the most of it. He reached out and wrapped his hand around her thigh and squeezed lightly. He felt and heard her quick intake of breath. Yeah, he was definitely going to make the most out of this trip to Roanoke. He leaned over to her side, close to her, and whispered in her ear, “What kind of business classes?” He again felt and then heard another quick intake of breath.

She nudged him with her shoulder. “You need to stop. I am driving and you’re distracting me.” She glanced at him with a gorgeous smile on her pretty face, before she turned back to watch the road.

“Damn you’re amazing,” he spoke before he even thought about it. When she only cut her eyes his way, he asked, “Tell me about your classes.”

“I told you they are just a couple of business classes,” she answered impatiently, but there was something about the way she said it, almost like she was embarrassed.

He gave her thigh a light squeeze again. “Baby,” he whispered softly, and he could have sworn he felt her body shiver.

She took a breath, then without looking at him at all stated matter-of-factly, “I’m taking some business classes, because one day I want to have my own…business. I want to know how to run it myself.” She shrugged her shoulders. “You know, the ins and outs of how to run a successful business,” she finished, and he noticed that she not only didn’t look at him at all, she shrugged it off like it wasn’t that big a deal.

“That sounds great. Do you have a business in mind?” he asked, but he already knew that she did. He knew as smart as she was that she had a plan. A dream.

“I…uh…yes. So…uh…you wanted me to get to know you, remember?”

He would let that go. For now. He wanted to know her dreams, but he wanted that to come from her when she was ready. Like she did when she was telling him she wanted to own her own place, to do with it what she wanted. That came from her, and he was beginning to realize that she didn’t share of herself very often. So that little bit about her that she gave to him voluntarily meant something to him. That in that moment she felt comfortable enough with him to share. Yeah, he wanted more of that with her.
A helluva lot more
. But he wouldn’t push. “What do you wanna know ‘bout me?” He already knew she wasn’t going to ask anything personal.

“You’re a cop?” she asked. Yep, nothing personal, or so she thought. She already knew he was a cop, but really that’s not what she was asking, even if she didn’t realize it. He knew; knew she wanted to know what kind of a cop he was.

“Yeah, Bree. I’m a cop, but just so we’re clear, and from what I’ve gathered from your reactions to me bein’ a cop, I’m not like the cops you’ve known before.”

He watched her whip her head in his direction and catch his eyes for a second, before she turned back to watch the road. “How do you know what kind of cops I’ve known before?” She gasped out, and he knew she was trying to keep her voice level, but he could still hear the slight panic in her tone. It was that panic concerned him. He knew she’d had some kind of experience with a ‘not so good’ cop or two, that fact wasn’t hard to miss, plus Storm had told him that much. But, from her reaction just now, he was beginning to worry that it was a lot worse than ‘a run in or two’ as Storm had claimed.

“You asked about my tattoo,” he started, purposely changing the subject.

“Yeah…I…uh, just—” She stumbled to answer, but he interrupted.

“No, baby, I wasn’t askin’. It’s the reason I became a cop, or, at least, the meanin’ behind it.” He again lightly squeezed her thigh. “I’ll tell you, but because very few know, I’m gonna ask that you not share with anyone.” He watched her, watched her reaction, wanting to trust her with a part of himself. She looked at him for a second before she turned back to watch the road, but in that second he had seen it in her eyes. Yeah, she could be trusted.

“If you don’t want just anyone to know, why would you tell me?” she asked.

“Cuz you’re not just anyone,” he stated. And again he watched her glance at him, then back to the road. He had surprised her; that much he could tell.

“Oh…uh, okay, I won’t share.” She glanced at him quickly, caught his eyes, “Promise,” she told him before she looked back to the road.

He sat for a beat, staring out the windshield. He had never told a soul what he was about to tell her. Yeah some, mostly his family and the guys in his unit, knew bits and parts. But no one knew the whole of it, not everything that he knew, had seen, and experienced, at the hands of his
family
.

“I’m from New York, Little Italy. My father’s family, being Italian, well, it’s a pretty big family. A big, close family; close as long as you follow their rules. The thing was, the ‘family rules’ didn’t always coincide with the law.” He watched her. Watched her grip on the steering wheel tighten, knew what she was thinking but didn’t give her the ‘in’ to ask. “My tat...you asked what it meant. Overcome. That’s what it means to me,” he stated firmly, but again didn’t give her time to comment. “I got a tattoo for my thirteenth birthday, didn’t matter if I wanted it or not. I was thirteen, no longer a child, old enough to start being a man. At least that’s what my father told me when he forced me to get ‘the family motto’ branded on my damn arm.” He pushed up the sleeve of his T-shirt, exposing the entire tattoo. “
Regole familiari da parte le proprie leggi
.” He spoke the words as though they were still visible there. “Family rules by their laws,” he repeated in English. “That was my
family’s
motto and that’s what my father lived by.”

“I saw your tattoo, but I didn’t see any words,” she spoke softly but cautiously.

“No, you wouldn’t. No one can see them anymore because I had it covered.” He looked back at the black band that circled his arm, “blacked out.” He turned to look out his window, not wanting to see her expression. He knew what he said next would go one or two ways. Either she would pity him, or she would hate him, and he didn’t want those emotions from her.

“Growin’ up, my father was a man to be respected. One I thought I could admire. My mom didn’t work when me and my brother were small. She didn’t have to. He provided for the family, made life easy for my mom, gave her anythin’ she wanted. When me and Marco got older, didn’t need Mom as much, she opened up a little shop to sell her crafts. My father did that for her, for us. It was good, life was good. Or so I thought.” He glanced over at her, just needing to see her face before he continued, then turned back to stare out the window.

“I soon found out my father, my own father, who I thought was such a good man, turned out to be not a good man. And at the age of thirteen, he started groomin’ me to be not a good man. I won’t go into the details of the things I saw my father do to another human being. Things he wanted me to do, and would expect me to do, as a man. As part of the
family
. What I will tell you, the things I did, dope runs, gun sells, who knows what other illegal shit I moved on my damn bike.” He again looked back at Bree. “Who the fuck sends a thirteen-year-old out on a fuckin’ bicycle with a couple of grams of coke stuffed in his damn backpack?” he snapped out angrily, then turned back to the window.

“My father did,” he answered his own question. “Coke, guns, packages with who-the-fuck-knows. It was nothin’ for me to be ridin’ down the street on a fuckin’ bicycle with thousands of dollars on me, either in cash or fuckin’ merchandise from the
family
business.” He again looked back at her and asked, “Who the fuck puts their own kid in that kind of danger?”

“Draco—” He heard her say, but he turned back to the window, not giving her a chance to finish.

“My father did. And he was planning on
grooming
Marco when he turned thirteen. He was only eleven at the time,” he told her. “I didn’t know this at the time. I did what I was told, scared to fuckin’ death not to. Things I’ve seen…” He shook his head. “I fuckin’ seen the shit my family, my own father, did to someone who didn’t do what they were told.” Draco was so caught up in his own mental anguish from his past he didn’t think before he spoke again. “You know what a gut shot is? It’s a gunshot to the stomach. Won’t kill you, or not right away. Hurts like a bitch, as the blood leaks out of your body, lyin’ there in fuckin’ agony for hours until you lose enough blood to either pass out or finally fuckin’ die.” He spat out. “That was just one of my father’s punishments. He had others.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath, “Fuck!” he hissed as he whipped his head around. “Fuck, Bree, I didn’t mean to throw that shit out there like that.” He scrubbed his face in his hands. “Fuck!” he repeated. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I get it your dad wasn’t a nice guy,” she said softly, but he could hear the tears she was holding back in her voice.

“My father. He stopped bein’ my
dad
when I learned what he really was. And, no, baby, he was not a nice guy,” he said softly.

“What happened? I mean, how did you get away from that?” she asked, and it did not escape his attention that she didn’t associate him directly with his family.

“‘Bout a year later, not long after I’d turned fourteen, someone killed him. He was shot twenty-eight times. It was meant as a warning, because the
family
had moved into another’s territory.”

“I want to say I’m sorry, but, it’s…I…uh…well, you lost your dad; way before your father was killed, so for that I am sorry,” she whispered.

“We were never close, didn’t have that father/son bonding time, until…” He paused, took a breath then said, “Anyway, after my father was killed, one of my uncles told me that in a few years me and Marco would be takin’ over my father’s business. And until that time he would continue what my father had started. I didn’t want that, any part of the fuckin’ family business. I finally got up the nerve to tell my mom. She didn’t have a clue what had been goin’ on—”

“How…I mean…yeah, how the hell did she not know what was going on with her son? Not to mention her husband, but her own child?” she asked fiercely, and he felt that right in the center of his chest. This woman, this gorgeous woman, was pissed for him, or for the boy that he used to be.

“Bree, one thing you got to understand, in that family, women were beneath men. Men didn’t explain. There were businesses, legit businesses: restaurants, book stores, game rooms, hell, and even my mom’s craft shop. They did good business on their own, but they were also used as fronts. The women ran their shops, but the men took care of the books. The women were kept in the dark when it came to the money and if any of them suspected or asked too many questions, they disappeared.” Draco scrubbed his head over his face. “I honestly don’t know what happened, but I do know I had a couple of aunts and a few female cousins that I would from time to time overheard talkin’, then a few days after that they were gone. Never to be heard from again, and no one mentioned them, like they were never there.”