Redemption (Cavan Gang #2) (3 page)

“You should buy the red nightie,” Miller told her as she paid for the dressing gown. Yep, this robe would cover up her traitorous body, which seemed to take on a mind of its own when around Rogan. “You’ll look hot. Aedan won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

Natalya grinned. “He can’t keep his eyes off me anyway.”

“He adores you.” Miller couldn’t help but feel jealous. Aedan thought the sun rose and shone with Natalya. And he adored her little son, Mateo, even adopting him.

Mateo’s father, Diego Mota, had agreed to the adoption. It was probably for the best that Mota stayed out of Mateo’s life. As a lieutenant in the Fuerte cartel, Mota had done and seen some evil things. The cartels were not to be messed with.

“He does. Just like Rogan cares about you.”

Miller shook her head, grabbing the bag from the cashier with a smile of thanks.

“I know you think he’s interested in me but he’s not.” He’d never made any sort of move toward her. “He feels responsible me. He feels guilty because he believed Iker’s lies about me.” Iker had been holding her against her will, pumping her fill of drugs. But he’d told Rogan she was with him voluntarily. “He thinks what happened to me is partly his fault. That’s what you see in his expression. Guilt.”

Natalya sighed. “Come on, we need a drink. And by drink, I mean something rich, creamy, and delicious. Bit like Aedan.”

Miller rolled her eyes, following Natalya as she marched off. Natalya’s bodyguard, Caden, followed them. Colm hadn’t come, knowing Caden would watch over them both.

“We’re going for coffee, Caden,” Natalya informed him.

“Great,” he muttered unenthusiastically. Miller felt much the same way. Natalya would interrogate her until she got the answers she wanted. She might act like an angel, but the woman could have worked for the CIA.

Natalya led her into the closest café, choosing a booth right at the back.

“This feels like déjà vu,” Miller said as she slipped into the booth.

“So long as some crazy bitch doesn’t attack us in the bathroom.” Natalya grinned.

“She was freakishly strong. I understand why she stalked Aedan, though. The man is hot.” Miller fanned herself. Aedan looked like he’d dropped to earth straight from heaven. His gorgeous face had helped make him a huge movie star. He’d stopped making movies, but he remained a hunk.

The crazy blonde who’d been stalking him attacked Natalya in a public bathroom, but Natalya had gotten the upper hand. With a bit of help from Caden.

The waitress brought them two high-calorie concoctions. Miller took a big sip, her eyes nearly crossing as sugar rushed through her blood. “Wow, that’s rich.”

“Speaking of rich,” Natalya said. “Rogan is loaded but you’re always reluctant to spend his money. Now, all of a sudden, you want to buy a dressing gown thousands of bunnies had to die to make. What’s that about?”

“It’s not made of fur! Worst segue ever, by the way. I do not care whether Rogan is rich or poor. Bad enough he pays for the roof over my head and the food I eat. I don’t have the right to buy whatever I like with his money. It’s wrong.”

“So then why buy that god-awful dressing gown?”

Miller sighed. “You are so tenacious.”

“I know. It’s one of my best qualities.”

Miller rolled her eyes. “According to you. I need a barrier between us, I guess.”

“A barrier?” Natalya frowned. “Is he bothering you? I didn’t think Rogan would be the type.”

“No, he’s not bothering me.” Far from it.
She
was worried about jumping
his
bones.

“You sure? Because I could send Aedan around to deal with him.”

Aedan wouldn’t have a chance against Rogan. They might be cousins, but they had little in common.

“Rogan has been nothing short of wonderful. He paid for my rehab, he’s paying for my therapist, and he’s putting a roof over my head. I can never pay him back.”

Natalya frowned. “Is that what you think? You owe him? ’Cause everything you just talked about was to do with money.”

“I know Rogan doesn’t think I owe him. But I feel like a burden. I should have moved in with Dylan and Tilly.”

It might have made things a lot simpler.

“Your therapist is here. It would have been hard to change to someone new. Besides, I think you wanted to stay because you feel safe with Rogan.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rogan makes a person feel safe. I get it. I feel it, too. He would never let anyone hurt you. He takes care of those around him. I think you instinctively knew he wouldn’t let you down. He wouldn’t fail you.”

“You’re talking about him like he’s more than a friend.”

Natalya raised her eyebrows. “Isn’t he? I’ve seen the way you look at him, Miller. Deny it all you want, but you’re attracted to him.”

“Of course I am. He’s the sexiest man I’ve ever met.” Although sexy didn’t even begin to describe him. He was gorgeous, dark. Dangerous.

Natalya sniffed. “Well, he’s no Aedan.”

“That’s why I need the damn robe. Because I need some sort of protection between us. Like you said, it’s the least sexy thing you’ve ever seen.”

Natalya raised her eyebrows. “You don’t want him to see you as sexy? News to Miller—you’d look sexy in a sack.”

“Why, Natalya, I didn’t know you liked me like that.”

“You wish. No way I could date someone with a bony ass. I like to have something to grab onto.”

Miller placed her hands over her ears. “Too much information.”

“Why don’t you want Rogan to notice you, Miller?”

Miller ran her finger through the condensation on her glass. “I can’t get involved with him.”

“Because of your recovery? Did your therapist tell you to steer clear of relationships?”

“No. My therapist is happy with my progress.” Even if it was slower than Miller would have liked. “Although, she’s advised me not to jump into anything.”

“Then, what is it?”

“Well, I haven’t known him long.”

“You’re living in his house. You know him a lot better than some people know each other before they get married.”

“Yes, but for half that time, I’ve been in rehab, recovering from a drug addiction. Not exactly a catch, am I?”

Natalya waved her hand in the air. “Oh, get over it. You were a victim. You are a strong person. Strong enough to fight your addiction day after day. You’re a damn sight more courageous than most people I know.”

Miller watched her, mouth open. “Wow. Thanks.”

“So, on to the next issue. I know you have a list. What else is there?”

Miller glared at her. “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that?”

“Well, maybe if you had a bit of meat on your ass, it wouldn’t be so painful.”

“Fine, if you must know everything. I always swore I wouldn’t get involved with someone like my father. He was in and out of jail throughout my childhood. After my mother up and left us, he dumped me at my grandmother’s and took off. I can’t be with someone like him.”

“Someone like what? A loser who abandons his family? Damn straight, you can’t be with someone like him. I’d have to send Aedan around to kick his ass. But if you’re trying to tell me Rogan is anything like your father, a man who would abandon his family for
any
reason, then you are not as smart as I thought.”

Natalya leaned forward. “I think your real issue is you’re scared to love him. You’re scared he’ll leave you. So you’ve come up with reasons to keep you apart so you can’t be hurt.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil,” Miller replied. “I know Rogan would never abandon his family. He has far too much integrity. He would stick by them, no matter what.” As he’d stood by her. “But I don’t know if I can live with what he does. I’m not sure I can sit around and worry and wonder.”

Natalya snorted. “I can hardly see you sitting at home twiddling your thumbs. You’ll be out there somewhere, kicking ass. Rogan will probably be the one sitting at home, wondering what the hell you are up to. Miller, anyone can see you’re tough and smart. Once you get yourself back on track, you’re going to grab the world by its bits and shake it up. Yeah, what Rogan does isn’t easy to come to terms with. I know I used to judge him. In fact, I was a real bitch about it. But I figured out what Rogan does isn’t who he is.”

“What do you mean?”

“Rogan has done his best over the years to pull the gang into legit businesses. I’m not saying he and his men are angels or I agree with everything they do. But he has done his best to pull them out of the wrong side of the law. Brandt betrayed him because he didn’t agree with the direction he took the gang.”

Brandt had been Rogan’s second. He had secretly allied himself with Iker Florez, hoping to kill Rogan so he could take over the gang.

Thank God he hadn’t succeeded.

“Aedan said it’s made him question who he can trust. It’s a hard way to live, but Rogan does the best he can. It wasn’t the life he asked for. But that’s a whole other story and his to tell.”

“So why does he stay in the gang?”

“I don’t imagine there’s a way he can break free. Not without risking his people. And Rogan would never do that.”

No, he wouldn’t.

“I’ve always been so decisive. I know what I want and I go after it. But, with Rogan, I have no idea what I’m doing. He’s not the sort of man I wanted.” Not the sort of man she thought she should want, anyway.

“No?” Natalya took a sip of her drink. “I can feel my hips getting wider with each sip.”

“Oh, stop it. You’re gorgeous and you know it.”

“So you don’t want a man who is loyal, protective, hardworking, and loving?”

“Of course I do. But I always thought I would end up with a man who worked an ordinary job, who operated on the right side of the law.”

“But your heart doesn’t always listen to your head, does it? Look, I get where you’re coming from. I guess it comes down to what you care about more. Who he is or what he does.”

“I suppose so.”

“Sometimes you only get one shot at happiness, Miller. I was lucky enough to have a second chance. You might not be. I don’t want you to do or not do something you will later regret. Rogan might not be who you planned on loving, but perhaps he’s who you were meant to be with.”

“I never said I loved him.”

“No? Not even a little bit?” Natalya held her hands half a foot apart.

“Well, maybe this much.” Miller held her thumb and forefinger apart.

“Uh-huh, well let’s hope your love doesn’t match, ahem, other things. If you get my drift.”

Miller rolled her eyes. “You’re not exactly subtle, my friend. And I’m pretty certain I wouldn’t be disappointed. Besides, this is all moot if Rogan isn’t interested in me.”

“Oh, he’s interested. Believe me. I bet within the next month you’ll be in his bed.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the bet?”

“The loser has to make dinner for the four of us. Four courses.”

Jesus help her.

“Fine. You’re on.”

A delicious scent wafted through the house. Roast beef? Rogan’s stomach growled. He’d missed lunch. Fighting off his fatigue and the urge to drag himself upstairs and into bed, he walked down the hallway and into the kitchen, following the delicious smell. A plate covered with foil sat on the counter, a small note on top.

For Rogan.

Hands off or else.

Rogan smiled. Only one person in the house would write such a note. Hell, no one else would think to leave him dinner.

Usually, he ate on the run when he remembered to eat at all.

He took the foil off. Roast beef, mashed potatoes, green beans, and gravy.

Placing the plate in the microwave, he grabbed some cutlery.

“It’s the only thing I know how to make.”

He turned to find Miller standing in the doorway. At least she wore more clothes tonight. Her fluffy, pink dressing gown covered her from her shoulders to her toes.

“What?” How could he possibly find her dressing gown sexy? What was wrong with him? She was his guest. She was here to recover and recuperate. He was supposed to protect her.

Not dream of stripping her naked, throwing her on top of the counter, and fucking her brains out.

“Roast beef.”

“You didn’t have to cook for me,” he told her, opening the microwave door. Distracted, he reached for the plate without using a towel. He jerked his fingers back and shook them to ease the sting.

“Are you okay? You need to be more careful.” Rushing over, Miller grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the sink. She turned on the tap, pushing his sore fingers under the water. “Do you have some burn cream?”

“My fingers are fine, Miller.” Christ, her scent. Peaches and cinnamon. It drove him insane. Miller moved closer to him, her warmth pressing against him, and his balls tightened. His cock pressed against his pants, the urge to lean in and kiss her so great it drove out all other thoughts.

“Rogan? Are you okay?” She placed her hand on his arm.

He drew away, shaking the droplets from his hand.

“You should leave your fingers under the water for longer,” she said, reaching for him.

“I’m fine,” he bit out.

“But—”

“Miller, I said I’m fine.”

She took a step back, lower lip trembling. He felt like an asshole.

“I’ll leave you to eat your dinner.” She turned and walked away.

“Thank you,” he called out.

She stilled then turned back, her expression guarded, shut down. Something inside him broke a little. She’d been through hell and back. She’d cooked him dinner. Fussed over him.

And how did he repay her? By being an asshole.

“For the dinner,” he added. “I can’t remember the last time I had roast beef.”

She shrugged. “It’s probably dry by now. There’s some leftovers in the fridge.”

Inwardly, he sighed. Miller liked to throw up this mask of indifference to the world. She was tough and smart. Didn’t mean she didn’t have a vulnerable side. But she hid that side of herself behind a thick, defensive wall.

“Well, dry or not, thank you.”

She nodded. He thought she would leave, so he was surprised when she moved toward him. “Tilly didn’t make it for you while she was here? She’s the one who taught me to cook.”

“No. Although she baked a lot of brownies.”

Miller’s lips twitched. “She has a sweet tooth. And baking helps keep her calm.”

“Come sit; tell me about your day.”

She gave him a wary look, but moved over to the counter and sat on one of the stools. He took a seat on the opposite side. Physical distance was a good idea. He prayed she hadn’t felt his cock pressing against her. Although it would be hard to feel anything through her fluffy robe.

“Is that new?” He gestured at her robe.

“Yeah, Natalya and I went shopping today.”

A friendship had quickly developed between the women. They seemed an unlikely pair. Natalya had a more innocent view of life. Miller had grown up with a criminal for a father and a mother who’d left her to live with a gang leader.

Her view of the world was decidedly more skewed.

“I didn’t know you planned on going shopping today.” Someone had failed to mention those plans to him.

Miller eyed him carefully. “Don’t get mad at Colm. It was a spur of the moment thing. Mateo went on a playdate and Natalya needed something to occupy her. Otherwise, she was going to stress about being apart from Mateo.”

Rogan didn’t blame her. Mateo had been kidnapped by some enemies of his father, Diego Mota. The kidnapping had brought Natalya and Aedan back together. But it wasn’t something either of them would have ever wished for.

“Natalya let Mateo go on a playdate alone?” Rogan frowned. If Mateo were his, he couldn’t imagine leaving him with someone he didn’t know and trust implicitly.

“Declan was guarding Mateo. Caden came with us. We were well-guarded.”

He would still like to know when she left the house. She wasn’t a prisoner. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her. But he needed to know she was safe.

“You’ve got that look in your eyes.”

“What look?” he asked, raising his eyebrows.

“The one saying someone is in trouble. It was an impromptu thing, Rogan. Besides, I’m not in any danger so I’m not sure why I need a guard. I guess…unless…” She stared down at her hands, which were clenched together.

“Unless what?”

“Unless it’s because you don’t trust me?”

Rogan reached over and clasped her hands between his. Screw keeping his distance. He’d worry about that later.

“Of course I trust you.”

“I think about it, you know,” she whispered. She raised her head, staring over his shoulder.

“Think about what?” he asked, staring at her, his dinner forgotten.

“Oblivion. I think about how easy it would be to sneak off and buy something to help me find oblivion again. Then I wouldn’t be in this constant battle with myself. It’s like I’m two different people sometimes. One half of me keeps repeating how everything is too hard. How much easier life would be if I could find that happy place where I didn’t worry or care about anything. How much better I would feel if I gave in. The other half is saying how weak I am for thinking that. It’s the coward’s way out. I’m supposed to be a fighter, not a goddamn loser.”

God, her pain clawed at him, demanding he fix this. But he couldn’t. Only time, therapy, and Miller could fix this. But he could support her. Whatever she needed, he would give her—well, within reason. He would never enable her to harm herself. Or put herself down.

“First of all, you are not a loser. Nor are you weak. Next time you call yourself either of those, I’m going to get strict with you.”

She gave him a small smile. “What are you going to do? Take away my pocket money?”

Inwardly, he winced. Her lack of money was a sore point. For her, anyway. He had set her up with a bank card and an account. But she hated using his money.

“You know I don’t see things like that.”

“Why not? I haven’t done anything to earn the money. In fact, all I do is sit around here and mooch off you.”

He scowled. “You do not mooch off me.”

“No? Then what would you call it? I already owe you more than I can probably ever repay for all the therapy and the rehab. Not to mention room and board.”

Room and board? She wasn’t his goddamn lodger.

“I’ll be lucky if anyone hires me again. Who would want a druggie?”

“You are not a druggie. You were held and drugged against your will.”

“So I’m a victim. Great.” He didn’t like the bitterness in her voice.

“Way I see it you can sit around and feel sorry for yourself. Think your life is over.” He shrugged. “I guess you’re entitled to the pity party.”

“Pity party?” She bristled with anger. God, she was gorgeous in a temper. Her eyes sparkled, her face flushing.

She was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

“Or you can take charge of your life. Learn from what happened and move on.”

“Easier said than done.”

“Yeah, it is,” he agreed. “But I believe you’re strong enough to do it.”

She studied him for a long moment. “So can I work for you?”

Over his dead body. “What?”

“I used to be a personal assistant. I could help you. Take some of the load off. I’m organized, reliable, and I can be on call 24/7.”

“No.”

She frowned. A hint of hurt flashed across her face before she closed down on him. Okay, maybe he’d been a bit abrupt. But, seriously, what was she thinking? She knew what he did for a living and she wanted to be part of that?

Not happening.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she told him in a guarded voice. She watched him warily.

He sighed. Earning her trust wasn’t an easy thing. Sometimes it felt like two steps forward, one step back. Who could blame her? She’d been abandoned by those supposed to protect her. Used and discarded.

It was a wonder she could trust at all.

“What’s that?” he asked. He doubted she had any idea what he was thinking half the time.

Because if she knew the things he thought about her, the things he wanted to do to her, she’d run a mile in the opposite direction.

“That you can’t trust me with your business. But I know you have a lot of legitimate interests. I could be involved with the legal side of things.”

Someone had been talking. He had a good guess who, too.

“How do you know about my businesses?”

She blushed slightly then sighed. “You’ll get angry.”

“Have you ever seen me get angry over anything?”

Miller watched him carefully. “Not really. You don’t yell or act mad. But you get this cold look in your eyes. It’s not obvious unless you know what to look for.”

Well, maybe she knew him better than he thought she did. He wasn’t sure he was comfortable with being so easy to read.

“I’m good at reading people. When I lived with my father, I learned to quickly figure out which of his business associates were the dangerous ones. Who I needed to avoid.”

He clenched his hands, furious at her father for not protecting her better, for allowing ruthless criminals to come into contact with an innocent child.

“See, there it is,” she told him. “You’re angry. Furious.”

“Your parents should have protected you.”

“Like you would your child?” she asked.

“I will never have children.”

She tipped her head to one side. “Because you think they’d be at risk.”

“Anyone close to me is in danger.”

“Really? Because I feel the safest I ever have. Think about my offer, Rogan. I want to help. I want to feel useful.”

“I cannot allow my life to touch yours, Miller.”

She smiled sadly. “But, don’t you see? I’m already in that world. There’s no way out.”

“You could leave. Start a new life. Find a guy like Dylan. Lead a life like Tilly’s.”

Miller shook her head. “No. Once I thought I could lead a normal life. But I don’t even know where to begin. I’m not like Tilly or Natalya. I can’t trust easily. I’m always waiting for people to let me down, to leave me. I had a boyfriend once. Normal guy. Good job, nice manners. He was sweet.”

Rogan ground his teeth. The last thing he wanted was to hear about her past love life.

“But I drove him off. I couldn’t let him close. I couldn’t talk to him. Funny, I don’t have that problem with you.”

Because she was right. They were alike. There were less than a handful of people he trusted. Even fewer he opened up to. And since Brandt’s betrayal, he even doubted his relationship with those few.

Brandt hadn’t agreed with his decision to make them more legit. To not sell Fizz for the Fuerte cartel. It would have been a lucrative deal, but Rogan didn’t hold with pushing drugs to kids. So he’d refused.

Now, Brandt was dead. But Rogan was left feeling his instincts were off, wondering who he could really trust.

“Think about the offer.”

He could think all he liked. But he’d never take her up on it. Protecting Miller was as vital to him as breathing.

“What did you want to do when you were a child?” he asked.

She pursed her lips, thinking.

“I wanted to be a pilot. Then a firefighter. And a hairdresser. Then a singer. Unfortunately, I sound like two cats fighting when I sing.”

“But if you could do anything in the world?”

“Besides be president?” she asked dryly. “I don’t know. Something creative, maybe. Like photography.”

He raised his eyebrows. Unexpected. “Maybe you should consider taking some sort of photography course.”

Miller narrowed her gaze. “You’re trying to keep me busy.”

Yep. Then she might forget about her crazy idea to work for him.