Unfinished Hero 03 Raid (34 page)
It felt great.
* * * * *
Late that evening…
Wearing a tank and pajama shorts, I lay astride Raiden in my bed, my eyes watching
my fingertips exploring his collarbone as I felt his fingertips exploring the skin
of my thighs.
“Are you really going to make her life a misery?” I asked his collarbone.
“Meg?” he asked me
,
and I looked at him.
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Yeah,” he confirmed
,
and I tipped my head to the side.
“Really?”
“That situation was intense It embarrassed you and it should never have happened.
She should never have walked in there in the first place
,
but she did. I gave her a chance to walk away, she didn’t. Now she’s gotta learn
a lesson.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked.
“Somethin’ that’ll make her learn that lesson.”
“Raid
—
” I started
,
but his hands lifted up and gripped me at my hips.
“You don’t fuck with me,” he declared firmly. “She fucked with me.”
That she did.
I said nothing.
“And she fucked with you,” he went on. “She saw you were freaked and she went in for
the kill. You don’t fuck with me. You absolutely do not fuck with you.”
“Okay, but that led to us
—
”
“No, Hanna. No.” He shook his head on my pillow. “Love knowin’ you love me, feels
good you knowin’ I love you
,
but that was ours to share and we would have eventually done it anyway. But what
I share with you in bed is mine. It’s yours. It’s ours and no one else’s. She watched
me take you
,
and I don’t give a shit she was only there at the end, that’s not hers to have. She
doesn’t get to hear the words I say to you when I’m inside you and she doesn’t get
to hear what you whisper to me. And no one, but no one, gets to share in you comin’
for me.”
I had to admit, he was right. I didn’t like that she got that from us either.
“So she pays back,” Raiden declared. “She hates her job, she’s not gonna have it much
longer. She likes to haunt a certain bar, she’s gonna find herself not welcome there
anymore. She rents, her landlord is suddenly gonna rethink her tenancy. Next time
she wakes up and feels like bein’ a bitch, she’ll think again.”
I felt my eyes get big.
“Are you seriously going to do all that?”
“I am seriously gonna do all that.”
“Holy Moses. Now I feel sorry for her.”
“You should, baby. She’s a sad, lonely bitch who needs to eat a sandwich and get a
life.”
It was mean
,
but he was funny so I started giggling.
Raiden smiled as he watched, his arms moving to circle me.
When I quit giggling, he remarked, “Speakin’ about people fuckin’ you. You’re gonna
be getting a check from Bob.”
I was confused. “Bob?”
“Reimbursement for the sports package he sold you on the Z
,
but didn’t tell you he sold you.”
I blinked.
Then I shared, “The car came that way.”
“Other Z’s on that lot that come other ways, honey. You drive that Z like it’s your
grandmother’s Buick. You need sports shocks like you need a hole in the head.”
I pushed slightly up, or as up as his arms around me would let me go, and protested,
“I do not drive my girl like the Buick!”
“Do you know what sport shocks are?”
I could make a wild stab
,
but the truth of it was I didn’t really know what shocks were.
I decided not to answer.
He grinned at me and ordered, “Cash the check.”
“It’s not Bob’s fault I’m an idiot.”
His grin died, his hands slid up my back, pressing down so I was face to face with
him.
“Cash. The. Check,” he growled, his voice rough and commanding.
I stared in his eyes.
Then I said, “All right, honey.”
Raiden looked to the ceiling and cursed under his breath.
I let him and when he looked back at me, I asked, “Do you want a late night sundae?”
His eyes got hot, his hands moved to my behind and he answered, “Absolutely.”
* * * * *
Two days later…
I got the check from Bob.
Then I drove to Bob’s.
We sat down and talked.
An hour later, I signed the check over to the local hospice where Bob’s Mom died.
I walked out to my girl thinking KC was a genius.
Then I called Raiden and asked if he wanted to meet me at Rachelle’s for lunch.
* * * * *
Three days later, early evening…
Raiden walked into the kitchen, came up behind me at the stove and kissed my shoulder.
I twisted my neck to grin at him.
He grinned back.
I turned my attention back to the pan thinking it was awesome Raid had a bunch of
cargo pants, a trunk, a weight bench and not much else. It took his Jeep and my SUV,
two hours that was mostly packing
,
and he was in.
And this living together business was
the business.
“Babe?” he called and I turned to him.
“Yeah?”
He was standing at the opposite counter where my opened mail was piled. He had a piece
of paper in his hand and was waving it.
“The Hospice?” he asked.
Oh boy.
That paper was a thank you letter from the Hospice for Bob’s and my donation.
I said nothing and waited.
“Bob’s check,” he stated.
Raiden had put it together.
I bit my lip.
He shook his head, dropped the paper to the counter and grinned at the floor as he
walked to the fridge, got a beer and walked out of the room.
I turned back to the stove.
Absolutely.
KC was a genius.
Chapter Eighteen
I Wake Up Happy
Three weeks later …
I was rushing around my bedroom, getting ready. I’d spent too much time amongst my
perfumes trying to pick one
,
only to go back to Agent Provo
cateur, the one Raid liked, so I was running late.
I ran to the closet and was faced with another decision regarding flip-flops when
my cell on the bed rang.
I dashed to it, saw the display and put it to my ear.
“Hey, honey, I’m running late,” I told Raiden.
“This is good since I am too,” he replied. “You wanna save us twenty minutes and I’ll
meet you at Rache’s?”
“Sure, I’ll cycle in.”
“Babe, drive.”
Rough and commanding.
I ignored it. This was my baby. Willow was safe
,
but my Schwinn spent the night in my garage and nowhere else, except, of course,
outside Raid’s den. But Raiden didn’t sleep at his den anymore
,
so now it was the garage and the garage only.
“That would mean I’d need to leave my Z in town overnight
,
and Rachelle will let me keep my bike in her back room.”
“We’ll leave the Jeep in town and drive your Z home. We can pick it up tomorrow.”
This idea was a good one so I agreed to it. “Okay, sweetheart.”
“See you there,” he told me.
“Right. ‘Bye, sweetheart.”
“Later, babe.”
I stopped dashing around
,
which meant I had plenty of time to make the perfect flip-flop choice.
I did this, locked up the house and moved to the garage to get my Z.
* * * * *
“Yo!” Rachelle greeted on a shout when I walked into her café and the bell over the
door rang.
I had failed to note that Rachelle’s Café looked like it had been torn off the island
of Nantucket and planted in Willow, Colorado. Of course, I’d never been to Nantucket
,
but I’d seen pictures
,
and Rachelle’s Café was it. It had tables all through and a long counter ran down
one side. The rest was
all serene colors and breezy décor
,
and trust me, décor could be “breezy”.
It was awesome.
Rachelle was behind the counter with her Mom in front of her.
“Hey,” I called.
“Hey there, Hanna,” Mrs. Miller called back.
I smiled and moved to them.
Needless to say, Raiden and I now living together
,
and regardless that he was out of town quite a bit, us having actual time together
under our belts, we’d been to dinner at Mrs. Miller’s house.
I knew her all my life, liked her all that time
,
and after going to dinner at her place I liked her better. She was as she always
was
:
nice, friendly and easy to talk to
,
but I discovered she was also a good cook.
I also got to know her boyfriend, Gazza, better. Gazza was English, as in actually
from England, but, like he’d been a mountain man his whole life, he incongruously
carved logs into totem poles or eagles and the like. He did this for a living, selling
them out of the front yard in his house up in the foothills.
He was a good guy that everyone liked. Mrs. Miller and Gazza didn’t live together
,
but they’d been together for years and they somehow made being together in separate
places work. It was also known in town that it was Ruthie Miller who wanted her own
space and Gazza loved her enough to accept her as she came, which, of course, made
everyone like him more.
I thought it was even cooler
,
knowing now that she was a woman who had a man who was not all that great
,
so she only accepted life and love on her terms
,
but put the effort in to make it work.
Then again, I was learning the Millers (notwithstanding Mr. Miller, wherever he was)
were cool all around.
I stopped and Rachelle asked, “Dinner or flyby for a coffee a la Rachelle?”
“Raid and I are going to the double feature at the Deluxe tonight
,
but he’s running late so quick dinner, not a flyby.”
For some reason, this statement made Rachelle roar with laughter
,
but Mrs. Miller’s face grew bright.
“
Dog Day Afternoon
and
French Connection?
” she asked excitedly.
“Yep,” I answered. “Kickass 70’s Movie Night at the Deluxe, though they missed a great
marketing opportunity by not naming it that and instead calling it 70’s Masterpiece
Theater at the Deluxe.” She smiled big
,
and having taken in her earlier expression I offered, “Do you want to join us?”
She shook her head. “Love to. Plans with Gazz. Another time.”
I nodded, looked at Rachelle and smiled through my hopefully not too nosy question
of, “Can I ask why you were laughing?”
“My son,” Mrs. Miller started to answer the question I’d asked her daughter
,
so I looked back at her, “was never a kid who sat around watching TV and playing
video games. He also didn’t go to movies. He climbed trees. He raced around on that
skateboard of his, without a helmet, I’ll add, no matter how often I got on him about
that. He’d disappear into the woods or the foothills and be gone all day doing God
knows what. Him sitting through a double feature is out of character,” she explained
,
but it was not really an explanation for why that would be funny.
Then Rachelle gave me the explanation that Mrs. Miller was too well-mannered to give.
“Not even for his bitches back in the day did he sit his ass in a theater. If they
didn’t tramp through the woods with him or…” he eyes slid to her Mom, “whatever, they
were toast. So it’s hilarious seeing my big, scary, badass brother so…
totally…
whipped
.”
My mouth dropped open
,
but Mrs. Miller’s snapped loudly, “
Rachelle!
”
She grinned unrepentantly at her mother and made a whiplash noise.
“I’m not sure Raiden is whipped,” I shared
,
and Rachelle looked at me.
Then she laid it out.
Scarily, wonderfully
,
and as Rachelle had a tendency to do, hilariously.
“Your Honor, exhibit A
:
the pretty girl calls him Raiden when
no one
calls him Raiden because he fuckin’ hates to be called Raiden,” she said and I stared.
I didn’t know that.
“Rache, don’t say the f-word,” Mrs. Miller hissed.
Rachelle ignored her mother. “Exhibit B
:
Raid sits his ass in a movie theater
,
probably spending those hours not watching the movie but thinking of shit he could
blow up, tracks he can race on an ATV or other things he could be using that time
getting up to with his girl.”
“I’m so sorry, Hanna, when she’s on a roll
—
” Mrs. Miller started to say to me.
“Exhibit C,” Rachelle pushed on
,
but her face changed, her eyes locked on me and she finished, “he lets go and laughs.
All the fuckin’ time. Finally letting people see he’s actually genuinely happy.”
I knew what she was saying and my throat instantly clogged.
“I’ll get you a white wine,” she stated in conclusion.
She ducked her head, hiding her eyes and moved away.
With difficulty, I swallowed and felt my hand taken in Mrs. Miller’s.
“Can we sit a bit before Raid gets here?” she requested on a hand squeeze.
I nodded. Still coping with Rachelle’s emotional bombs and uncertain about sitting
a bit with Raid’s mother, I had no choice
,
so we moved to a table by the window.
She sat opposite me.
I’d learned, seeing as I was dealing with one of the Millers, so I braced.
It was a good thing to do.
“Don’t let Rachelle upset you,” she said.
“I’m not upset,” I assured her, which was kind of a lie. I was upset
,
but not in a
bad
way.
Actually, I was moved.
“We’re just… we’re just…” she looked out the window then back at me, “real happy that
he’s settling down.”
I nodded.
Her eyes drifted out the window
,
and to give her time without my gaze on her, mine did too.
“He talks to you.”
It was barely a whisper
,
but I heard it and I looked at her.
Her eyes were still out the window.
When I didn’t have a ready answer, she kept going, aiming her words to me but out
the window.
“He came back and he…” I watched her pull in breath, “life changes people. Things
happen. It’s the way life is
,
but that was… that wasn’t how he was different.”
Oh God.
She turned her head and looked right at me.
“He was gone. We tried, Rache and me to… well, he shut us down. He would smile, pretend
to be himself
,
but he wasn’t. A mother knows. A sister knows. He wasn’t our Raid.”
“I know,” I replied softly.
“He’s back,” she declared
,
and my heart skipped.
“I
—
”
Her hand shot across the table and closed around mine so hard it caused pain.
“He talks to you.” It wasn’t a statement but a question.
I couldn’t tell her how he did
,
but he didn’t.
I just said, “Yes, Mrs. Miller. He talks to me.”
“Ruthie, honey, told you to call me Ruthie.”
She did so I nodded again.
Her hand tightened further around mine and I fought back a wince.
“You’ll find out, I pray to God, you’ll find out that a mother has many nightmares.
I know that sounds funny
,
but don’t get me wrong. You’re happy to live with them
,
because to be a mother, you get to create these tiny little living, breathing dreams
that grow up to be splendid things. But for a woman with a son, that’s the worst.
When he’s gone. What he’s doing. You pray so much he comes back safe, you forget to
pray to God to keep him safe from all the ways he could be damaged. My son was damaged.”
Her hand lifted mine an inch off the table and her eyes got bright.
Mine did too.
“Thank you for fixing him,” she whispered.
I held her hand tight right back, leaned in and said gently
,
but honestly, “My work isn’t done, Ruthie.”
“I’m sure. But I have faith in you.”
Oh God.
I swallowed back the tears.
“I’ll do my best,” I promised.
“You already are.”
Seriously. This was beautiful
,
but I could take no more.
“You know,” I blurted, “Grams would lose it if she saw me, a Boudreaux, crying in
the local café.”
“Then pull yourself together, bitch,” Rachelle, there with my wine and setting it
on the table, declared. “Suck that back.” She advised and turned to her mother. “Mom,
Raid walks in here and sees you all mushy with his woman, he’s gonna lose his mind.
Suck it up.”
Then she flounced away.
Ruthie looked at me, her mouth twitching. “She’s not wrong.”
“You made him so I’m sure you know this a lot better than me
,
but he can have his macho man fit. It’ll blow over, and through it we just do our
own thing.”
Her eyes lit, her hand let mine go and she replied, “Now I’m seeing how you can wring
miracles.”
“I give all the credit to Grams and KC. Grams is wise and says it straight. KC lives
with an alpha and also says it straight. They’re my gurus,” I shared.
“If you need another guru, you know where to find me
,
and do not take that as me asking you to share with me where my son is at. If he
wants me to know that, he’ll tell me. You’re not on the hot seat. Just that I know
Raid pretty well and I’m happy to do my bit.”
I smiled at her.
She smiled back then shouted, “Rache! I’m off!”
“I’ll call Gazz and warn him you’re on the emotional warpath and he’s up next on your
agenda,” Rachelle shouted back.
Ruthie had stood through this and she smiled down at me. “Again, she’s not wrong.”
I giggled.
She reached out and tucked my hair behind my ear.
That was familiar, coming from a Miller.
And sweet.
I stopped giggling.
“Later, Hanna.”
“Have a good night with Gazz, Ruthie.”
She winked at me and took off.
I sipped wine, looked out the window and dragged in a deep breath to pull myself together.
I sort of accomplished this feat when I felt a presence join me at the table. I jumped
in surprise
,
but turned my head smiling, thinking I’d see Raiden.
It wasn’t Raiden.
It was a good-looking, well-dressed man staring at me with eyes that were almost as
amazing as Raid’s.
Thinking he was going to come onto me, I told him, “Sorry, I’m waiting for someone.”
“Yes. And when he gets here, I’m asking you to give Miller a message to give to Knight.”
My back went straight, my skin started tingling (and not in a good way) and I stared.
He didn’t hesitate.
“Tell him to tell Knight that he’s being careful
,
but not careful enough. Tell him that Nair is not going to give up. Tell him he’s
going to have to do something in a permanent way to shut Nair down. Do you have that?”
My eyes narrowed even as my hand shifted back toward my cell in my pocket. “Who are
you?”
“I’m Nick. Miller will get me. Knight will definitely get me. And you, don’t worry.
Nair is not focused on Miller. He doesn’t even know who Miller is. He’s not focused
on anybody but Knight. Nair has no clue you exist and doesn’t give a fuck. But I needed
a way in. You were it.”