Because her body still hummed with the pleasure they had given her, she avoided looking at either man as they followed Jackson and Julie off the boat and the five of them walked to the parking lot together. The men conversed in low tones, but she didn’t bother trying to listen to what they were saying. Her nipples throbbed, in a pleasant way, and deep in her core, she still pulsed from Miles’ rough possession. She hadn’t felt so… sated in… well, never, that she could recall. And that had to account for something, even though she remained peeved and on edge over Trevor’s interrogation. The burning question was: where to go from here?
“See you at class, Hope,” Julie called back as Jackson led her to his truck.
“Bye, Julie.” Hope waved without committing to seeing her on Thursday. When they reached the motorcycle, Trevor surprised her by cupping her face and brushing his lips over hers in a light kiss.
“Blame me, not Miles, if you’re mad, sweetie.” He tugged her hair in a playful, brotherly fashion then sauntered toward an SUV three spaces over without another word.
Hope glanced at Miles and caught him scowling at Trevor’s back before he turned to her. “I don’t need him covering for me. I’m sorry I didn’t stop him earlier.”
The gruff apology took her by surprise as he didn’t seem like the type to express regret openly for anything. Needing time and space to assimilate all of her thoughts and feelings, she stepped back and picked up the small helmet. “I’m tired and need to get back.”
With a nod, he tightened the strap under her chin and helped her straddle the bike. Thankfully, the ride back to the shelter wasn’t long. Wrapping her arms around his waist, Hope leaned against Miles’ broad, muscled back, the rev of the powerful motor and sudden lurch forcing her to tighten her hands in his shirt. She itched to slip under his tee and touch his bare skin, something he had denied her every time they’ve been together. No, she wasn’t ready to end this sexual exploration, or to go back to being casual friends with him, regardless of the growing risk of everyone learning about Craig’s death. Since her interest in BDSM didn’t show any signs of abating soon, she would need to decide just how much farther with this Dom she wanted to go before they got together again and if it would be worth the risk.
In her heart, Hope knew she’d had no choice, that it was either turn the gun on Craig as they were locked together in a battle over it, or he would put a second bullet in her. But the insidious kernel of guilt over going to that club in the first place, possibly straddling the line of infidelity as her fiancé had accused her of, wouldn’t be put to rest. When his angry accusations had been backed by her parents, and his, and then her friends, the same ones who had set everything up at the club for her bachelorette party, had joined in condemning her, she’d had no one to turn to for support. Hearing the way her parents put their embarrassment at the entire situation over her close brush with serious injury or death had been a bitter pill to swallow, but her closest friends’ deflection had hurt even worse than the fiery graze of the bullet. Hope had known of her parents’ indifference toward her, but not how hypocritical and two-faced her closest friends could be.
Miles pulled to a stop in front of the shelter and she thought of the circumstances of some of her residents, the desperation, sometimes fear that had resulted in them having nowhere else to go, such as Sandie fleeing the threat of her stepfather’s murderous thugs. The bond Hope had nurtured with Sandie, and now Julie and Krista, was even more precious and desirable than anything she’d ever felt toward the friends she’d known since her teens and it would hurt twice as much if she were to lose it.
“You okay?” Miles questioned when he lifted the helmet off her head.
Averting her face, and his probing eyes, Hope nodded. “I’m fine, Miles.” Inhaling a deep breath, she turned to look up at him with a forced smile. “Thank you for tonight. I had fun.”
“I’ll see you at class then.”
It was a good thing she didn’t expect a long good-night or much more in dialog. Shaking her head in bemusement over how that made her want to giggle, she went inside under his watchful eye, prepared for a restless night plagued by the decisions she needed to make.
He dragged his feet, in no hurry to return to the shabby, run-down house he never thought of as home. A home represented happiness, fun, a place where you lived with family and felt safe. He was anything but happy in the house he lived in with his mother and father when he bothered coming home, and it was anything but fun. As far as family, he would only claim his mother. His father could go to hell for all he cared. Thinking of his mother, his gut tightened with a stab of guilt. If she knew what his gang friends were plotting, and what he planned to participate in, she’d be so hurt. But shit, what was he supposed to do? As the newest member of the Skulls, he couldn’t wheedle his way out of the robbery set for later tonight.
Rounding the corner, he spotted his dad’s beat-up pickup in the drive of their house and his heart jumped to his throat. Dave Cavenaugh never came home during the day, was either at work or at a bar until, with any luck, he returned home too drunk to do anything except pass out. Picking up his steps, he rushed up the sidewalk, dropping his school backpack on his way. Fear the old man had found out about the surprise movie and hamburger his mom had taken him out for the night before for his birthday added an adrenaline pumping boost to his feet. A miser as well as a mean drunk and bully, Dave never allowed his wife access to money, just one of the ways he kept her under his control. When his mother had told Miles she’d sold her mother’s diamond engagement ring to treat him for his birthday, he’d felt the heavy weight of guilt from his recent gang affiliation pressing on him. Even though the ring had been just costume jewelry, he knew how much the precious gift from his grandmother meant to his mom.
Bursting through the front door, the sight that greeted him nearly took him to his knees in shock. His father’s back was to him from where he knelt over his mother’s crumpled, blood-stained form. Lifting his arm, he started to add to the stab wounds already leaking her life’s blood onto the floor, but rage unlike anything he’d experienced in his fifteen years of living with this man’s abuse of the only person who cared about him propelled him forward. Locking his hand around his father’s wrist, Miles managed to stay another wound, but turned his parent’s anger upon himself.
“Bring it on, old man,” he growled as Dave twisted out of his grip and rose with murderous intent glittering in the dark eyes he had inherited from him.
“Thieving cunt deserved a thrashing, and so do you, you little bastard.”
“I’m not so little anymore,” he taunted with a lunge, desperate to take him down so he could get help for his mother.
He never felt the burning cut of the knife slicing his cheek, or the warm trickle of blood down his neck. Putting all his terror-backed rage into his fists, he went at him with pummeling fury. When that wasn’t enough to keep the old man down, when he rose yet again lifting the blood-stained knife that had surely ended his mother’s life, Miles reached out a blind hand and swung the first object he found, a glass lamp, at his head.
His father went down with his eyes rolling back in his head. “Mom!” Going to his knees, he pressed his hands over the largest wound even though he knew it was too little, too late. “Mom… Mom, Mom…”
Miles awoke with shaking hands and shivering with a pounding heart. Crawling out of bed, he padded naked into the bathroom and flipped the shower on as hot as he could stand it. Closing himself inside with the rapidly billowing steam, he braced his hands flat against the tiled wall and lowered his head between his arms to avoid looking at his hands. If he did, he knew he’d see his mother’s blood coating them, feel the warm essence of her life’s source that would no longer keep her with him. How many times had she shoved her way between him and his father’s raised fist, taken the blow meant for him upon her smaller, more fragile body? And how many times had he sworn one day he’d be big enough, old enough to teach his dad a lesson, to stand between him and
his mother for a change? Only once, since reaching his full height, had he managed to save his mother from a blow, taking it on his wide shoulder as he shoved Dave back. He’d been so drunk that night, he’d passed out right there on the floor.
Christ, he was always so fucking cold after one of those dreams, the ones where he relived the one day he’d give anything to forget or change. Since neither had proved an option in the last twenty-three years, he had to settle for chasing away the chills with a hot shower, and the memories by concentrating on newer, more pleasant ones, like how fucking good Hope’s pussy had felt wrapped around his cock. Not much scared or worried him nowadays, but it scared him how much he cared for her, how much he’d loved being inside her, hearing her cries of pleasure and feeling the ripples of her climax pulling his own out of him. The instant rage he experienced when he looked at her scar and imagined the attack that had resulted in her getting such an injury worried him. He couldn’t afford to lose his shit again, not the way he had at fifteen.
Even though Miles had installed the largest hot water tank he could find, there was always an end to the supply. With a sigh, he turned off the multiple showerheads and dried off, hunger pains demanding his attention next. He didn’t need Sean’s diagnosis to know his need for overly hot showers and constant eating habits stemmed from living in a house that never had enough hot water or food. Yanking on a pair of gym shorts and tee, he decided he didn’t care where the needs came from, he would continue to over-indulge in both as long as he had the means. He’d set aside a damn good nest egg from the twelve years he’d traveled the martial arts circuits of competitions, and the gym paid for itself as well as his and Ed’s current expenses.
After grabbing two large slices of left-over pizza, he went downstairs, hoping Ed was still in his rooms or out. His mentor had a bad habit of reading him like a book, and always knew when he’d had a rough night. Much to his irritation, he found not only Ed, but Jake in the gym, the two of them bouncing around each other in one of the rings. From the sweat they’d worked up and their flushed faces, it appeared they’d been at it a while.
“A little early to be so gung ho.” Miles pointed his half-eaten slice at them as he leaned against one of the corner posts.
“Not all of us can sleep in on Monday mornings,” Jake panted. With a nod to Ed, he sauntered over to a gym bag on a chair in a corner and pulled out a small towel to wipe his face.
“I’m fine,” Miles bit off tersely when Ed strolled over to him, his eyes clouded with concern.
“So you keep saying. How’s your girl?” Swinging down from the raised platform with the agility of a much younger man, Ed paused next to Miles and continued to scrutinize him until he was satisfied Miles spoke the truth. He never did take his word for it.
“She’s not my girl, and she’s fine.”
“You should ask her out. She—”
Miles cut off the familiar suggestions with a chop of his hand as he bit into the second slice of pizza. “Leave it, Ed.”
“Leave what?” Jake asked, joining them. “Never mind,” he inserted after Miles glared at him. “I don’t have time anyway. I wanted to tell you Mateo got out Friday. I was off, so I didn’t find out until this morning. Joaquin’s foster dad called the precinct, filed a complaint against Mateo for showing up at his brother’s school Friday and scaring the shit out of the kid with threats.”
“God damn it,” Miles swore then sucked in the anger. It would do him no good to rail at Jake. “Bring the kid by here. I’ll teach him a few simple moves, give him a little boost of confidence.”
“That’s a good idea. Let me see when I can work that out.”
“I’ve got a class of teens Thursday evenings. They’re a few years older, but that’s all right.”
Jake nodded. “I’ll get him here. Ed, thanks for the workout. Later, you two.”
Ed waited until Jake slipped out the door then cocked his head at Miles. “You know, you’ve got that annual fundraiser coming up, the one you…”
“Yeah, I know, to benefit the local YMCA’s. So?”
“So, that would be a nice event to take your girl to.” At his scowl, Ed shrugged with an unrepentant grin. “Just saying, boy.”
Shaking his head, Miles fought back a grin. “I’m still hungry. Let’s grab a late breakfast, the works.”
“You don’t have to ask me twice. Let’s go.”
Chapter 10
Hope left the shelter out the back door, looking forward to girls’ night. The more she thought about her insecurities regarding her friendships, the more she leaned toward telling Sandie about what had sent her fleeing Atlanta six years ago. She hadn’t known Sandie nearly as long as she had her friends back home, the ones who’d denied encouraging her to take up the Dom’s offer to participate the night they were guests at that club. As if she would have had the courage to drape herself over a strange man’s lap for an erotic spanking without a push from the girls she’d gotten into scrapes with all through high school and college. Their penchant for tossing out dares to each other was what landed them in trouble most of the time, and she’d never regretted taking them up on a dare until that night.
The more she was with Miles, the more he demonstrated how easily she got off on submitting to his dominance, the more she wanted to know about him. That too was something she hoped Sandie could help her with. Other than herself, he was the most close-mouthed person about personal issues she’d ever known.
As she reached her car, Bobby’s voice came to her from the alley, his low curses setting off alarm bells. Rounding the corner, she spotted him painting over the brick side of the shelter, his brow dipped in a frown. “What’s up, Bobby?” she asked, strolling up to him. She glanced at the wall and saw the letters DERER remaining of whatever word or words had again been spray painted on the building. “What crap did someone write this time?”
“You don’t need to worry, Hope. The paint was still fresh when I arrived, and I’m about done. I swear, don’t these kids have anything better to do?”
Hope experienced a sense of unease when she tried putting letters before the five remaining ones, and when she came up with MURDERER, her body trembled with the possibility. “Tell me what it said.” Her direct look and tone conveyed her demand to know the truth, and Bobby blew out a sigh of irritation.
“Murderer, which could’ve been aimed at anyone, or just a random word someone thought would rile people. But some of the women who come here, and possibly the men, are fleeing bad situations where someone may have died. They don’t need to see this and jump to wrong conclusions.”
The tenseness in Hope’s shoulders eased and she nodded, acknowledging he was right. There was offensive graffiti everywhere, most of it just kids out getting kicks. It didn’t mean the slur was aimed at her, or anyone in the shelter, for that matter. It was a word intended to cause unrest, nothing more. “You’re right. Thanks, Bobby. Need some help?”
“No, I’ve got it. This is your night out, go have fun.”
“I won’t be long.” With a wave, she returned to her car and drove to Sandie’s, where they were meeting tonight.
Parking out front of Zach’s high rise, she crossed the marble floor of the posh foyer to the fancy elevators. The first time she’d been here, it had reminded her of the circles she used to run in and the shallow, back-stabbing people she’d grown up with. Neither Zach nor Sandie were anything like her snobby parents or her two-faced friends, although Zach could be a rich, egotistical jerk at times. It was a good thing Sandie knew how to keep him grounded.
Exiting the elevator on the top floor, she paused outside their penthouse apartment. From the voices she heard inside, Hope wondered if she was the last to arrive and realized just how late it was. After helping in the kitchen because they were short-handed then stopping to talk with Bobby, she only had about an hour before she needed to head back. She had an 8:00 a.m. meeting with the board, which meant an early morning for her. Sandie answered her knock with a wide smile and gl
ass of wine already poured for her.
“Get in here.” Shutting the door behind her, Hope took the glass, and saw Krista, Alessa and Julie already sipping wine and lounging on the leather sofas.
“Sorry I’m late, problems at the shelter. What did I miss?” Hope settled in the wide swivel recliner and leaned forward to scoop a cracker through a warm cheese dip. “Oh, that’s good.”
“Everything okay at the shelter?” Julie, who sat across from her, asked.
Hope settled back in the cushiony chair with a tired sigh. “Yes. We were short-handed in the kitchen for the dinner service then I had to deal with more graffiti on the side of the shelter.”
“Good grief, Hope. Graffiti is sprayed all over those older buildings. You’re not exactly in the best area. Why don’t you just leave it?” Krista asked.
“You have to understand, the people at the shelter are in dire straits, and most end up so desperate because they’ve run from bad situations that left them with few options. I want them to feel safe, if nothing else, when they’re there. What we see as harmless could have a different meaning for someone who might be trying to stay one step ahead of a stalker or abusive ex.”
“I didn’t think of that,” Krista admitted with a sad shadow in her blue eyes.
Alessa refilled her glass then lifted it up. “I say we switch to a cheerier subject, like Sandie and Krista’s engagements, which is what you missed, Hope.”
“Seriously?” Hope beamed at Sandie, snatching up her friend’s hand and holding it up to the light. “Wow, that man has good taste.”
“In women, yes, I know,” Sandie returned with a smug toss of her head.
Julie shifted her eyes from the rock adorning Krista’s finger to Sandie’s. “The good doctor didn’t do bad either. Congratulations you two.”