Nobody's Perfect (15 page)

"No. I'll just finish this one and head back upstairs."

Motioning to the bartender, Marc signed for both checks and told the bartender to charge anything else to Marc's room.

Damián felt like a fucking freeloader, but after his Christmas splurge, he didn't have the funds available to even cover the drinks for this weekend.

If he didn't get his sorry ass back in a Harley shop soon, and get some money coming in, he'd have to dig even deeper into the money he'd saved for the dream of starting his own Harley repair business someday. After years of putting every spare cent away, he needed to face reality. He had a daughter to support now, and she came before any biker dreams.

* * *

Savi leaned against the head rest and let the wintry scenery fly by without paying much attention. The weekend in Aspen had been fun, but also exhausting.

Marisol certainly had taken to the slopes. Children were so adaptable to whatever environment they were placed in. Savi wished she could adjust as quickly. She wanted to regain control of her life, or some semblance of it, as soon as possible. They'd been away from California for three weeks, mooching off Damián. He was job hunting and didn't have the resources to put them up indefinitely.

She wished she'd taken time to gather her legal papers before fleeing California after Lyle's attack. How many times did she counsel families with domestic abuse issues that they needed to have things like that ready to take with them, if they had to leave and find shelter? She couldn't go back to her house for them now. Lyle and her father surely had the place under surveillance. Maybe even Mari's school wouldn't be safe. And how could she register her without a Social Security number?

Oh, lord, what was she going to do?

"Mind if I stop off at Adam and Karla's before we head home, Savi? They just got back from their honeymoon."

Savi remembered the nice house where they'd spent much of Christmas day and the couple she'd met at Teresa's house. She'd rather go back to Damián's and decompress in a long, hot bath, but she couldn't even control something that simple in her life anymore.

"No, that's fine." Mari would sleep most of the way to Denver, so she should be well-rested by the time they got there. Thoughts of what she was going to do when she went home drained what little energy she had, and she closed her eyes.

No, not home. Damián's…

Savi awoke with a start when they hit a bump and looked up. She'd fallen asleep, too. Amazing that she trusted Damián enough to make herself that vulnerable. Maybe it was just exhaustion.

"Sorry about that rude awakening,
querida
."

Savi wiped the sleep from her eyes and looked out the passenger window to see they'd pulled into the drive next to a white Hummer generously dusted with road salt. She wondered where they had honeymooned. Savi turned around and looked into the backseat to find Mari rubbing the sleep from her eyes, as well.

"Where are we, Maman?"

"Remember the house where we had Christmas dinner? Well, we're going to visit some of Daddy's friends here for a bit."

"Can we go home soon? I want to see Boots."

As Savi opened the back door and unbuckled Mari, she assured her daughter they'd be home soon. Home. Now even she was thinking of Damián's place as home.

"Damián!"

Savi held onto Mari's hand as she looked up to watch a woman with long, black curly hair catapult herself across the porch and into Damián's arms. Karla. Savi remembered thinking this young woman and Damián were a couple when she'd seen them sitting next to each other, holding hands in the waiting room at her office the first time she'd seen them together. They'd been holding hands again when she'd seen them again after choir practice at church.

Not that it mattered to her.

Damián reached up and touched a pink-and-green filigreed choker around her neck. "What's this?"

She beamed at him. "One of my Christmas presents. Adam had it designed especially for me."

He smiled at her. "Congratulations, sweetheart."

Congratulations didn't seem like something you'd tell someone for receiving a Christmas gift, but Savi soon forgot that when Damián bent down and kissed the young woman's cheek. Savi wondered if they had ever been anything more than close friends. An unfamiliar emotion bubbled up leaving her unsettled. She chose not to explore it any further and walked up to them.

"Ms. Baker?" Karla looked from Savi to Damián and back again, then quickly recovered. "What a nice surprise. Happy New Year!"

"Same to you. Please call me Savi. And this is my daughter, Mari."

Karla took one look at Mari, and her gaze riveted toward Damián with a question in her eyes. He grinned and nodded, and Karla beamed as she hunched down to Mari's height and exchanged hellos.

A male voice interrupted the scene. "Who do we have here?"

Savi looked up at Adam walking across the porch, his stride almost panther-like. She shuddered, then controlled her fight-or-flight response.
He doesn't want to hurt you
. His smile was warm. Savi relaxed.

"Dad, you remember Savi?"

So, he even called the man Dad.

Damián placed his hand on the back of Mari's head. "And this little doll is our daughter, Marisol."

The older man's green eyes twinkled as he grinned ear to ear. "So you just had to beat me to it, huh?"

Savi watched as Karla's hand went to her abdomen and she smiled at Adam. The newlywed couple was expecting. Their easy acceptance of Damián's being the brand-new father of a seven-year-old made it clear these people shared a close bond, unconditional love.

Adam pointed the way to the door. "Let's get inside before you all freeze to death." The man wore black jeans and a black, short-sleeved, USMC-imprinted T-shirt, but didn't seem to be cold at all.

Inside the house, the warmth of the kitchen enveloped them. Such a friendly place, it exuded a welcoming vibe. Savi wondered if she'd get a tour of it this time. She still wanted to check out that mysterious, closed-off living room.

When Damián placed a hand at the small of her back, Savi froze and stepped away, putting much-needed space between them. She ignored the look of sadness that crossed his face. Surely he didn't think spending a weekend together—in adjoining rooms, of course—would have changed anything. What did he want from her? When would he demand more than she could give?

Karla offered everyone a warm drink and soon had a pot of milk heating on the stove for cocoa. Damián asked if he could talk with Adam in the office, and Savi watched them walk down a hallway toward the front of the house. So much for the grand tour.

"Um, how was your honeymoon?"

Oh, what an invasive question. But Karla just grinned and didn't make her feel nosey at all for asking.

"Wonderful." The woman blushed and touched her choker. "We went to his family's cabin in the Black Hills. It was a nice escape after a few crazy months around here."

Savi knew Karla and Adam had gone to California after Teresa's attack in early November. Because they were so close to Damián, she could imagine that incident would have affected them all profoundly.

"Damián called us earlier to say he was in Aspen. I just assumed he'd gone up with Marc and Angie."

"Yeah, they were there, too." Savi reached out and stroked her daughter's hair. "Mari got some ski lessons."

"How about you?"

"No. Doctor's orders." She realized the woman didn't know what had happened. Best to keep it that way. "I broke a rib a few weeks ago. It's still healing."

When she looked back at Karla, the woman's eyelids had opened wider. "I'm so sorry! I hope you're feeling better."

"Much. Thanks."

"Did Damián go skiing?"

"Oh, no. He seems to have an aversion to the slopes. He just watched."

The disappointment in the other woman's face puzzled Savi, but she didn't pursue it. There were lots of things Savi didn't want to try, usually out of fear. For whatever reason, he wanted to avoid skiing. She'd respect his choice. If not for Mari, Savi probably would have stayed in the lodge and read a book by the fire.

"How long have you and Adam known each other?"

"Nine years." She didn't look old enough to know him that long. "We met when I was sixteen." Karla smiled. "He rescued me from my own stupidity."

Karla told her the story of how she'd run away at sixteen to find fame and fortune, but had wound up close to being kidnapped by a pimp. Savi shuddered. How many times had her father and Lyle threatened that fate for her if she hadn't obeyed them? Toward the end of her enslavement, she'd wondered if perhaps the life of a street hooker might have been preferable to the treatment she'd received at their hands and those of their sadistic clients.

Feeling unwanted emotions roiling to the surface, Savi took a sip of her cocoa and found it still too hot to drink. The back door opened and Grant walked in. The woman exuded a quiet power.

Grant took one look at Karla's necklace and grinned.

"Congratulations, Karla. You've been collared by one of the best."

Collared? Sounded like a police term, but had nothing to do with Karla's receiving a pretty necklace.

Karla laughed and touched the necklace Adam had given her. "Some days, I wonder what I've gotten myself into."

What was it about this necklace that had everyone in such awe? It was beautiful, but it was still just a necklace.

Grant moved to the coffee pot and poured herself a mug. "You so deserve this, after all you've put up with."

Savi felt like an outsider and glanced at the doorway through which Damián had disappeared with Adam. How long would they be gone? She just wanted to get back home and decompress for a while.

Yes, she was beginning to think of his place as home, a safe haven. She only hoped it would remain one. How long could she hide from Lyle and her father?

* * *

Damián watched Dad clench his fist after he'd told him what had happened to bring Savi to his doorstep. Well, he'd shared as much as he'd been able to determine about what had happened. Getting Savi to talk about it was like pulling teeth from an shark. She'd much rather bite his head off than answer him.

"Bastard ought to be castrated."

"Yeah, well, stand in line for those honors. Listen, part of what I need to talk with you about has to do with these
dos
cabrones
. I just got called back to the Harley shop part-time starting on Tuesday. I'm going to need some help keeping Savi and Marisol safe while I'm at work."

"You know we'll all do what it takes—Grant, Marc, me. Family comes first. Is she going to let us do our jobs, though? She looked like she was afraid I was going to tear her limb from limb when I first approached her on the porch."

Damián looked down at his hands. "Yeah, well, getting her to trust anyone—especially men—could be a problem. But until I know those shitheads have been neutralized, I want my girls under twenty-four/seven watch."

"I can contact a few retired Corps recon Marines and see what they can dig up in California." Damián knew Dad wouldn't bring any active-duty Marines into this operation. They'd have to answer to the Uniform Code of Military Justice, if they got caught, a system that would come down on them a helluva lot harder than the civil courts would on those no longer serving actively.

Dad continued. "Grant's the best when it comes to communications, or I wouldn't have had her up on that goddamned roof in Fallujah."

Dad had never forgiven himself for putting Grant through combat and its aftermath. Women were to be protected, not placed in combat, even if they had been trained as Marines. Dad and the chain of command had thought the worst of the hostilities were over at the time, but that hadn't been the case.

"I've already talked with Grant a bit. She's on board for whatever we need. I've also asked her to obtain some new identities and documents for Savi and Marisol, so they can start a new life here."

"Good thinking. We can pull in some discreet bodyguards. Besides us, I'm sure Victor would take a shift, if he can get away from Patti. Some days, he has his hands full with her. There are some others, too. Make sure Savi knows she and Marisol are under constant guard, so they won't think they're being followed."

Damián nodded. Dad had more connections than Damián would have been able to muster, evidenced by the retired and former military men who had attended his wedding. Knowing Dad could enlist help in putting up a safe perimeter around Savi and Marisol helped Damián relax for the first time in weeks. Even so, how the hell was he going to concentrate on work while he was away from them?

He felt out of control, and didn't like that feeling one bit.

"Aw, fuck. That reminds me." Dad opened the center drawer of his desk and pulled out something wrapped in pink tissue paper and tiny bows. "What with the wedding and honeymoon and all, this completely slipped my mind." He slid the package across the desk.

"For me?"
Pink?

"Yeah. I stopped by to see Mrs. Miller and the kids in Illinois."

The blood pounded in his ears. He looked at the package as if it were…a grenade.

A roaring in his ears merged with high-pitched screams. He realized the screams were his own.

“Madre de Dios!
No! Sergeant, don’t you fucking die!”

He knew Sergeant Miller was gone, but kept yelling at him as if he could bring him back by the sheer volume of his voice. He looked up and watched as Grant and Wilson, on either side of him, lifted the body off him. Damián turned his head away, watching in horrific fascination as Sergeant’s blood ran down the rooftop toward Damián’s feet, where it mingled with another pool of blood. The one forming around his own mangled foot.

"Damián. You're in Dad's office in Denver. You're safe now, son."

Damián drew several ragged breaths as he fought to regain control. He felt the pressure of Dad's hand on his shoulder rock solid and comforting.

"I'm okay." SNAFU—Situation Normal, All Fucked Up. Pretty much described his normal to a T.