Guilty silence, p.14
Guilty Silence, page 14
“Yes.”
“And the reason for that is because your brother, in his infinite wisdom, spilled some incriminating information he should’ve kept to himself about the Lotus Squad to a cellmate, who then turned around and sold him out. I mean, for them to go so far as to involve you in such a public way, by trying to burn down your place of business, it must’ve been some pretty damning information.”
I nod, because…what else can I do?
I’ve given him as much of the story as he needs to understand the dynamics of what is going on. There are just a few details I’m hanging on to. Information that might do more harm than good, since it would surely bury my brother, and it would’ve all been my fault. After all, if not for me, my brother wouldn’t even be in this situation.
“And you don’t know what it is he has on them?” Hugo asks me again.
“My brother never shared gang business with me,” I answer evasively.
That’s not a lie, but what he shared had nothing to do with gang business. Although, I have a feeling that’s a technicality Hugo won’t be able to appreciate once he finds out. Because I can’t bring myself to believe he won’t. Eventually.
I sip my tea quietly, giving Hugo a chance to process the information while he has his beer. The silence doesn’t last too long before he tosses back what’s left in his can and gets to his feet.
“I’m gonna have to make a few phone calls. Feel free to turn on the TV if you like.”
Without another word, he gets to his feet and, tossing his empty can in the trash in the kitchen, heads for the basement stairs.
He’s angry. I know it. But at the moment I sense that’s more about the situation than it is about me. However, that can easily change when he finds out the whole truth.
I grab the remote and mindlessly flip through the channels, but nothing catches my attention. Shutting the TV off again, I toss the remote on the coffee table and carry my tea mug to the kitchen sink and rinse it out. Then I slap my hand against my leg and call for the dog.
“Let’s go, Ragnar. Let’s go to bed.”
I’m going to need my buddy if I have any hope of getting even a wink of sleep tonight.
I wake up to a hushed whisper.
“Let’s go, buddy. My turn now.”
Next, the mattress shifts as my furry source of heat disappears, only to be replaced by a set of strong arms and a broad chest. I keep my eyes firmly closed.
“I know you’re awake, Twinkie. Your breathing changed and your body coiled up like a loaded spring the moment I touched you.”
“What do you want?” I grumble ungraciously, still with my eyes shut tight.
He rolls on his back, taking me with him so I’m now draped on top of him, the shirt I borrowed from his drawer bunched up around my waist and my ass hanging out of my thong. Lovely. He doesn’t seem to notice my state of undress as he keeps one arm banded around me and, with his free hand, brushes the hair back from my face.
“Sometimes I go into bulldozer-mode. At least, that’s what Carson calls it when I become task oriented and forget who’s in front of me. That’s what happened earlier when it may have felt like I was badgering you, only to walk out on you moments later. I needed to confirm the information, digest and decide next steps, and finally delegate tasks to get us to the objective.”
“Which is?” I ask, finding myself snuggling in against him.
“At the very top of the list: ensuring your safety. That’s nonnegotiable.”
I want to ask about my brother’s safety, but I sense that wouldn’t be a nonnegotiable issue for Hugo. Not when it could conflict with mine. There’s no doubt in my mind he wouldn’t think twice about sacrificing Ken if it meant he’d be keeping me safe. If that’s not trust, I don’t know what would be.
Trust is all he’s ever asked of me, and it’s the least I can give him.
But before I have a chance to end my guilty silence, his hands grab on to my exposed butt cheeks at the same time his mouth captures mine. His deep growl reverberates through my body as his fingers dig into my dimpled flesh. He doesn’t seem to care, and in all honesty, I’m not particularly concerned myself. Not when I feel his body’s response to me pressing against my hip.
I love that Hugo is not all hard planes and sharp angles, but his strong body is covered by a comfortable layer I can melt into. In contrast, his dick is pure steel, rigid and unforgiving, and a shiver runs down my entire body with the need to feel him inside me.
“Fuck, you feel so damn good,” he rumbles in my ear as he rolls us over once again.
He wedges his hips between my legs, and I arch my back when he grinds his cock against me, the friction making me moan out loud.
Then he stops moving abruptly.
“Are you ready for this, Bess?”
My eyes snap open and lock on his clear blue ones, staring back. Little else exists in this moment and I nod my response. He drops a light kiss on my lips.
“I need the words, Twinkie. I need you to be sure.”
My body is raring to go, but I force myself to look beyond my libido and gauge where I am emotionally.
The times have been few and far between since I’ve taken the opportunity, or had the inclination, to engage in a sexual encounter with anyone, and even on those occasions it was more a matter of going through the motions without much emotional investment.
With Hugo things are different. There is a lot on the line and the investment is huge, for both of us, and so are the risks.
But I want this. I want it so badly. I grab on to his firm ass to keep him from going anywhere.
“I’m so ready.”
The words have barely left my mouth when I find myself being divested of my shirt, and next my panties, leaving me buck naked with Hugo on his knees looking down on me. But he doesn’t give me a chance to feel self-conscious.
“Jesus, Bess, you’re my every fucking wet dream.”
Then he shoves his sleep pants down his hips, but only gives me a brief glimpse of his fine physique before he drops down, wedging his shoulders between my legs, and blowing every rational thought from my mind with his mouth.
My orgasm takes me by surprise and feels almost like an out-of-body experience. I’m still coming down to earth when, moments later, Hugo nudges my entrance with the tip of his sheathed cock. He locks in on my eyes, and watches my reaction as he slowly and deliberately enters me.
I feel overwhelmed, both covered and filled by him, unsure anymore where one ends and the other begins. I feel safe, alive, complete, and at peace, even as I stretch to accommodate him and every nerve ending in my body is firing signals. My body is a raging storm, as my heart and my mind find balance. And as Hugo starts to move, using his body expertly to drive mine to the summit, I’m hit with a sense of belonging I don’t think I’ve ever experienced.
Later, with my arms surrounding his body—still shaking from the force of our combined orgasms as he tries to catch his breath—and his face pressed into my neck, I try again to give him all of me.
“There’s something you should know. I—”
His fingers find my lips, covering them.
“Tomorrow,” he mumbles, barely awake.
As his breathing deepens, I let myself give into the draw of sleep.
Tomorrow it is.
Chapter 17
Hugo
* * *
I would’ve loved to stay in bed with Bess, who is still out like a light, but I reluctantly relinquished my spot to Ragnar, who’d been whining at the door ever since I kicked him out last night.
After a quick shower in Carson’s bathroom—one I should remind him to clean when he gets back from Seattle, it’s disgusting—I sneak out the front door, where Roy Battaglia is already waiting for me. He’s got a cardboard tray with carryout coffees and a brown paper bag from the diner.
I’d messaged him before my shower to see if he could swing by the Bread & Butter Diner to pick up some breakfast for us on his way here. I’d planned to pick up some groceries today since my fridge is pretty empty, but I’m obviously not going anywhere in the foreseeable future.
“All quiet,” he informs me. “I just checked in with my guys. No suspicious activity.”
“Good.”
Roy was one of the people I called last night, after what Bess told me emphasized the potential danger she could be in.
I still felt her hold back though, and that itself increased my concerns. Whatever it is her brother blabbed his mouth about, it’s bad enough for her to keep close to her chest. In addition, I suspect whatever it is, Ken Choi had at least some involvement because I can’t see Bess covering for the Lotus Squad, but I believe she’d try to protect her brother. Even against better judgment.
The only reason I didn’t spend the night blocking the front door, armed to the teeth, is because Roy and his crew were there keeping a watchful eye out.
The other call I made was to Rick Althof, filling him in on the additional information. I purposely left Savvy out of the loop. At least for now, until we have a better grip on the situation and can present her with plans already in place. Despite not having known Althof long, I am putting a lot of faith in him to handle the investigative side, because there is no way in hell I’m letting Bess out of my sight.
His first course of order is to locate Ken Choi. There is no guarantee he didn’t beeline it out of Silence after I interrupted their little chat in the alley yesterday afternoon, but my gut tells me he didn’t go far. It’s not likely he’s staying somewhere in Silence—he’d be too visible—but there are plenty of places to hide out in the woods and mountains surrounding us.
“I’ve got two guys in the neighborhood during daylight hours, and the rest of the guys will be back tonight,” Roy continues, breaking into my thoughts. “Unless something changes.”
“I’ll let you know if that is the case,” I comment.
“Fair enough. I’ll just grab my things and get started out here. It might get noisy; I’ll have to do a bit of drilling.”
Roy is here to install my new security system.
I may be law enforcement, but since one of our own—a Silence native I knew and worked with—attacked my son and turned out to be a killer we were looking for, my sense of security took a good hit. Last night, after discovering we might have elements of a violent gang right here in Silence posing a serious threat to Bess, the decision to get a decent system installed was easy.
I head back inside with our breakfast, leaving Roy to his work. Ragnar, who must’ve come down to see where I went, immediately picks up on the paper bag in my hand and circles my legs as I try to head up the stairs.
“Back off, buddy. I’ve got a piece of bacon with your name on it in here, but you’ve gotta be patient.”
As if a five-month-old, food-motivated puppy the size of a bear cub understands the concept of patience.
“Who was at the door?” Bess asks when I walk in.
She’s boosted herself up on an elbow and is squinting one eye at me from under her sleep-tousled hair. A red sleep crease runs down the cheek she had pressed into her pillow earlier. She looks fucking amazing in my bed.
I’d love to keep her here, just like this, but I know before long both our phones will start ringing once Savvy gets to the office and finds out about last night. I really want to make sure I get a proper meal into Bess before the chaos erupts.
“Roy Battaglia. His guys kept an eye out last night, and he’s installing a security system here today.”
Her second eye snaps open and her lips form a thin line, showing me she’s not thrilled about that.
“Before you say anything,” I quickly add. “I’ve been thinking about having one installed since Carson was attacked last year, I just never got around to it. This is a perfect opportunity.”
It’s easy to see she’s not convinced, but at least she’s letting it go. Not that it was negotiable anyway.
“What’s in the bag?”
She pulls herself up and tucks a pillow between her back and the headboard.
“Bread and Butter breakfast bowls with a side of bacon to share with the pooch.”
I set the bag and the tray with coffees down on the nightstand and sit on the edge of the bed beside her, leaning in to kiss those perfectly plump lips.
“Morning. Did you sleep okay?”
Her mouth pulls into a little smile, and I like the faint blush suddenly putting color in her cheeks. I’ll bet she’s remembering what came before we both crashed hard.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Good.”
I hold her eyes a bit longer, enjoying the view and the connection, when Ragnar announces the end of his patience with a woeful howl.
“All right, boy. I promised.”
I hand Bess her coffee before unpacking the food.
“Sit,” I order the dog, who, to my surprise, immediately drops down on his haunches.
“Good boy.”
I toss him a piece of bacon he snatches right out of the air.
“You’re going to spoil my dog.”
“Nah.” I hand her one of the bowls and the bamboo cutlery it came with. “It’s called training. He gets nothing for free.”
To demonstrate, I repeat my earlier command and wait for the dog’s compliance before tossing him another piece.
“You lucked out,” I tell her as I dig into my own breakfast. “He likes his food enough to do just about anything to get it. He’s a pretty smart dog, which means he’s going to enjoy you training him, but the downside is he’ll probably bore easily as well. You’ve already experienced the outcome of that.”
“Yes. One I don’t care to repeat,” she points out.
If I’m honest, I enjoy having the dog around. But not as much as I enjoy having his owner around. Both of them can stay as long as they’d like.
The whining of a drill firing up outside is a sobering reminder of why Bess is here in the first place.
Then my phone rings.
Bess
* * *
I’m surprised to see Nate’s truck parked in front of Strange Brew, and the front door of my coffee shop wide open.
I spoke to Savvy earlier and she never mentioned anything about Nate coming. Mind you, she had other things on her mind, like yelling at me for not calling her immediately after Ken showed his face. She’d already given Hugo the same treatment.
Savvy isn’t a yeller; she doesn’t usually get fired up to the point she’s almost in tears, but she did this morning. My guess is it’s probably pregnancy hormones, although that wouldn’t explain my own wobbly emotions.
I glance over to catch Hugo’s profile. He’s noticing the truck and the door as well.
“Did you know he was going to be here?”
“No idea,” he rumbles, as he pulls into a spot two away from where Nate’s truck is parked.
Hugo is already not too happy being here. I insisted on coming, pushing forward with my plans to get the place as ready as I can for when the cleaners show up on Monday. He would’ve rather I’d stayed holed up at his place, hiding out until all of this blows over, but I have a business to run. At least, I hope I still have one when all is said and done.
I didn’t tell him yet.
I intended to, but between Savvy calling, Roy needing access to the electrical panel, and me needing to get ready so I wouldn’t keep Emmet and Lola waiting at the coffee shop, there wasn’t enough time.
“Stay put,” he orders moodily as he starts getting out of the truck. “I’ll get you out.”
I’d love to remind him how I feel about being ordered around, but the man is trying to protect me, so rather than poking the already grumpy bear, I sit and wait for him to do his thing. Which basically is scanning up and down the street before opening my door. Then he tucks me under his arm and rushes me inside Strange Brew.
Nate and Emmet, decked out in protective gear, come walking out of the kitchen, carrying a blackened piece of drywall between them when we enter.
“What is happening?”
It’s Nate who answers me, pulling down his mask to flash an understated grin.
“Heard the insurance adjuster already went through and you’ve got cleaners coming in Monday. Might as well get all the dirty work done all at once, so we’re getting a head start on your kitchen,” he explains as they walk out of the front door and toss the drywall in the back of his truck.
I’m not sure what to say, so when Nate walks back in, I stick to a simple, “Thank you.”
“Pure self-interest,” he replies in passing. “Savvy’s been a bear without your pastries to soothe her sweet tooth.”
“People wanna help, Twinkie,” Hugo states beside me. “Let it happen.”
Touched by the support of my friends and happy Hugo appears to have gotten over his snit, I briefly lean my weight into him.
Then I shrug off my coat and drop my purse on the nearest chair, grab a face mask from the box, and go to work. Hugo is right behind me.
Phil, Savvy’s stepmom, shows up around midday, lugging in two large boxes from Pie Central and a twelve-pack of water.
She also produces a stack of folded papers from her large leather tote she hands to me.
“I wasn’t sure which one you’d want.”
Confused, I unfold the papers to find a Viking brochure she must’ve printed off the website. My old range was a Viking, and it’s one of the top commercial brands out there. The only reason I’d been able to afford mine was because I bought it secondhand. No way I’ll be able to afford a new one.
“I’ll probably be looking for pre-used,” I explain. “It all depends on what the insurance company values my old one at.”
“Fuck insurance,” Phil states bluntly. “They’re gonna drag their asses and try to cut corners and find ways to shortchange you. Believe me, I’ve had to deal with them before.” She shakes her gray curls. “No, this isn’t about insurance money. I have a proposal for you. More of a favor than a proposal, actually. It involves your walls.”
