Damaged and the Saint (6 page)

Arriving in the parking garage, I saw Harlow’s black Harley. Instead of opening the door of my SUV, I ran my fingers over the back of the bike. Standing next to me, Harlow said nothing. She was watching me in an overly curious way, making me feel on the spot. Even so, I didn’t want her to stop. Her focus belonged on me.

“Did you bring the keys?” I asked.

Harlow dug into her bag to retrieve them. She didn’t hand them to me though.

“It’s a nice night out,” I said, running my index finger along her jaw. “Why don’t we ride your Harley?”

“Unless you plan to sit on the bitch seat, I don’t see that happening, bub.”

Grinning, I crossed my arms and devised a way to get her to change her mind. “Are you sure you can handle that?”

“Handle you sitting behind me like my bitch? Yeah, I think I’d be fine,” she said, nearly laughing.

“What about my arms wrapped around your waist, so I don’t fall off? Will you be cool with me leaning against you? My breath on your neck. Oh, and what if my hands accidentally touch your thighs or breasts? You won’t freak out and crash, will you?”

Smile gone, Harlow narrowed her eyes. “Why would you accidentally touch me like that?”

“I’ve never ridden on the back. I might get scared,” I said, grinning at her irritation. “Or you can let me drive.”

“That way, I feel you up, right?”

“Yes, but I’m used to being felt up by hot ladies. I promise I won’t crash.”

Harlow didn’t answer right away. No doubt she wanted to take the SUV, but was afraid to chicken out in front of me.

“Fine,” she said, handing me the keys. “But only because you’re in town for only a week.”

Gloating would piss her off and I might lose my win, so I climbed on without giving her a smile. Harlow was slow to follow. When she did climb on, I sensed she feared touching me. I didn’t blame her. I was nervous about her arms wrapped around me. If her touch felt half as good as I imagined then I wouldn’t ever want her to let go.

Harlow refused to hold on until I started the engine. When her arms wrapped around me, they were tight. Her hands also gripped my tee like she feared falling from the bike. Harlow suffered from plenty of fears, but my driving skills weren’t one of them.

I pulled out of the garage and drove to Tequila Jodi’s where the Johanssons were having a barbecue bash in a plot behind the bar. Harlow never rested her face against my back and I found myself praying she would. I wanted her closer. I craved Harlow like I hadn’t craved anything since I was locked up in the dirty prison.

Harlow climbed off the Harley as soon as I came to a stop. I was surprised she didn’t fall down from moving so fast. She struggled to act casual and I let her think she was successful.

Gesturing for her to follow me, I walked around the side of the building to where dozens of people stood drinking and talking. I spotted Cooper and his wife walking around, chatting up everyone. I hoped they didn’t feel the need to greet us. The wife was clearly friends with Harlow because she hurried in our direction.

“You came,” Farah said to Harlow then nudged her away from me, likely hoping to get gossip.

Left alone with me, Cooper revealed his “Don’t mess with my woman’s friend” look. I returned it with my expression asking, “What kind of potato salad are you serving? Please don’t say the German variety.”

Cooper walked off without answering my potato salad question. Yet I didn’t remain alone long.

Cowboy joined me and asked, “Is the cutie with the big eyes with you?”

Along with Dutch and Shadow, he was one of the broken patches Memphis planned to wield like weapons against the failures in Mississippi. I doubted the pretty boy at my side even knew what Arlo and Mikey had planned for him. I might have thrown Cowboy a hint except he was giving Harlow the once over.

“Big eyes is shacked up with me, so if you touch her then I’ll touch you.”

Cowboy looked at me then back at Harlow. Flicking his hat, he sighed. “What if I just stare at her longingly? You gonna stare at me with your pretty eyes?”

I forced a smile. “You’re a funny guy, but I’ll still bury you if you don’t keep your distance.”

“You’re a scary guy and I got the message. You might want to send out that signal to the twins. One of them is really horny. He’s even wearing a fucking shirt that says how horny he is.”

“Nice,” I said, giving him a grin. “Distract the predator by focusing him on another threat. I like that move.”

“I didn’t stay this handsome by taking on people with frontal attacks,” he said. “Oh, and to answer your earlier question, they’re serving German potato salad.”

The potato salad thing should have disappointed me, but I was too busy looking for anyone focusing on Harlow. The horny twin was Dayton and he was acting as if Harlow and Farah were invisible. I assumed he already got the memo, yet I remained on alert.

“Baby pictures,” Harlow said when I joined her.

Farah smiled awkwardly while sliding her phone into her pocket. Harlow removed the phone and showed me the picture.

“This is Lily Johansson. One day, she’ll rule the world.”

Something about her tone felt challenging and I was already on edge. The possessive need in my gut pissed me off, so I challenged Harlow.

I looked at the picture of the baby then focused on Harlow. “I wonder what our kid would look like.”

The women stared at me as if I was nuts, but I only smiled. Harlow narrowed her eyes and handed Farah the phone.

“He’s messing with me,” she muttered to her friend.

Grinning, I reached out and caressed Harlow’s cheek. The feisty arrogance in her eyes disappeared, leaving her looking scared. I leaned forward until my lips were next to her ear.

“I’m trying to mark my claim to ensure these other chumps will stop eyeballing your ass. You’re welcome, trainee.”

Harlow’s gaze found mine. She seemed to understand, but I saw more in her expression than simply acknowledgment. My touch affected her in a way she didn’t like. I knew how she felt since I was feeling things I didn’t appreciate either. Need, possessiveness, blinding rage at anyone even glancing in her direction, these were not normal for me. I wasn’t a clingy sort of person. Sure, I didn’t like sharing as a kid, but never like this. Never like I felt with Harlow.

Harlow’s hand caressed my bare forearm, setting off every nerve in my body. I nearly jumped at her touch then glared at her. A smile curved her pouty lips before she turned away and walked with Farah to the buffet. I stared at her in shock that she would mess with me. Cocky little brat was teasing a man not fully in control. Hell, a part of me thought to sweep her up in my arms and plant a kiss on her. See how she’d handle an escalation of a relationship that made no sense.

I didn’t kiss Harlow though. I refused to even talk to her for nearly a half hour. She was playing with me and I really wanted to play with her. In my heart, I knew she wasn’t ready to do more than play and I wasn’t capable of the kind of control necessary.

I wasn’t sure how I would get through the night sharing a bed with a woman I was having trouble keeping my hands off.

Saint was back on the balcony when I finished getting dressed for bed. He likely heard me emerge because he appeared at the door. His dark gaze looked me up and down then he smiled. I didn’t blame him for finding my getup humorous. I needed to make clear to Saint that I wasn’t a sexy person.

“Cold?” he asked, walking to the bed and taking the remote.

I wrapped my plush robe around my flannel pajamas. “No.”

Saint turned on the TV and found a rerun of Psych. “I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s why you’re afraid.”

Shaking my head, I backed away from the bed where his powerful body was spread out. He wore only a gray tank and loose shorts. I could barely deal with so much flesh. My body felt both too hot and too cold. Unable to catch my breath, I hid in the bathroom.

Winnie picked up on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m freaking out.”

“Did he do something?” Winnie asked and I heard Dylan sounding concerned in the background.

“No,” I whispered. “He’s being normal. I’m the one freaking out.”

Winnie’s tone changed. “He’s handsome, right?”

“Yes.”

“You like him.”

“Duh.”

“You want to jump his bones.”

I frowned. “You’re spending way too much time with Bailey and Raven.”

“Oh, stop. I was always a closeted perv. Besides, you really shouldn’t be judgmental when I’m trying to help.”

Dylan was now laughing in the background, likely enjoying the perv comment.

“You know I never ever want to have sex,” I whispered. “Even years ago when I was nursing a crush on Vaughn, I never thought of him in a sexual way. It was like, ‘He’s so strong and brave.’ I never thought, ‘I want to see him with his shirt off and I hope he bends over and shows off his butt.’ These feelings for Saint are grossing me out.”

“He has a nice butt, huh?” Winnie said, giggling to Dylan. “Good to know.”

“Will you be serious? How did you deal with spending the night with Dylan?”

“Well our first time was magical. I took a sedative and he did all the work.”

Dylan laughed in the background while I rolled my eyes. “Your cutesy shit isn’t working for me.”

“What are you afraid of?”

“Feeling like I did in Phoenix.”

Winnie sighed quietly. “You’re not in Phoenix. Saint isn’t Playboy. He killed the Devils back there. I want to say Saint is a good man, but I don’t know him. I just know if he wanted to hurt you, I don’t think he’d do it this way.”

“It’s not him. He’s very patient. Well he teases me, but not in a mean way.”

“Just be honest. You said you could be honest with him, so just tell him you’re feeling weird and might not be able to sleep in the bed tonight.”

“Why is she sleeping in the same bed?” Dylan asked.

“Tell your husband to shut up.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that,” Winnie said. “Go deal with your fears. You need rest and I need you to go to sleep, so you can wake up and call me to say what happened.”

“Love you.” I whispered.

“Love you too. You’re so strong, Harlow. You can do this.”

Hanging up, I checked my appearance and found a freaked out little girl looking back at me. Unimpressed, I left the bathroom and found the bed empty, yet the TV still on.

The TV was also playing in the living room where I found Saint sitting. He glanced back at me.

“I don’t believe in following flawed plans,” he said, stretching his arms out along the back of the couch.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Saint’s hypnotic expression answered my question. “Go get comfortable in bed first. Watch TV. Chill out. Maybe lose ten layers of clothes so you don’t die of heat exhaustion overnight. Once you’re solid, I’ll join you.”

I just stared at him, feeling like the kid I saw in the mirror.

“I won’t enter a packed elevator,” Saint said, watching TV. “Can’t stand that feeling of so many people stuck in a small place. Bugs me. I could overcome that fear, but never saw the point. I’d rather wait for the next elevator or take the stairs. Life is too short to obsess over the little things.”

Understanding his meaning, I returned to the bedroom. I also removed the robe since I was sweating like crazy. The bed didn’t look so intimidating without Saint in it. I crawled under the covers and adjusted to the feel of a different mattress.

I smelled a hint of Saint’s soap on the sheets and the urge to run returned. Both craving and hating the way Saint made my body feel, I rested in bed and waited for him to return. One episode of Psych ended and another started, but I remained alone in bed.

Despite my frayed nerves, I began to doze. My eyes were half closed when the TV and light went off in the living room. Too tired to focus, I barely caught sight of Saint as he joined me in bed.

Saying nothing, he rested on the blankets and stared at the TV. When he glanced at me, I smiled proudly. Never thought I would share a bed with a man after knowing him only twenty four hours. Hell, I didn’t want to share a bed with a man I knew for a lifetime.

Saint was different and he made me crave new things. Somehow, he knew how to push me hard enough to make me stronger without knocking me down.

Surviving Mexico came down to never giving up. Sounded easy enough, but giving up was the natural choice when the future felt hopeless. In prison, I evolved rather than break down. My first lesson was retaining my control even when wanting to destroy the world.

Watching Harlow sleep, I lacked control. My fingers grazed her hair then hand before nearly reaching for her lips. I pulled away before waking Harlow from a soft sleep.

Even knowing I should create a little distance, I remained where I was and watched her. Harlow looked so beautiful as the TV’s light flickered against her young face. She was flawless even with the walls hiding her heart. I had the urge to take a sledgehammer to her barriers until I knew every part of her. The only problem was Harlow wanted to do the same with me.

After the ride home from the barbecue, she asked me my mother’s name and where I’d grown up. I claimed the answers put us both at risk because I was a man with enemies. Harlow nodded¸ pretending to understand, but she still wanted to know.

Wanting to tell her too, I imagined us talking like real people. Hours after she slept, I dozed off with my hand placed gently over hers. My waking thought was to take Harlow to the tree behind my family’s home in Birmingham. I’d tell her about how I’d spent my summers climbing it. When imagining a future with Harlow, I slept without suffering memories of Mexico for the first time in months.

I slept quietly for two hours before waking to a woman’s scream. Startled, I found Harlow staring wide-eyed. While she hadn’t screamed, the cry felt nearby.

“I’ll handle it,” I told her.

Harlow remained frozen, sitting up in bed while I grabbed one of my guns and walked to the living room. No doubt she was terrified sleeping in a building filled with killers.

On the balcony, I heard the female’s voice again. This time, she was laughing. Across from my balcony stood a half dressed and very drunk blonde waving at me. Dayton Rutgers joined her, looking nervous I might jump over there and kick his ass.

“Sorry. We were just messing around.”

“You woke me up, so tell your friend to put a cork in it.”

Dayton gave me a nod before corralling the girl into his apartment. Other men spoke from the balconies around me, but I ignored them. I needed to get back inside to reassure Harlow.

She hadn’t moved since I left. Her big eyes flashed from the gun in my hand to my face.

“Just some girl who can’t handle her booze.”

Harlow showed no reaction as I set the gun on the bedside table. Seeing her so terrified, I ran a hand through my hair.

“Want me to sit in the living room for a while?” I asked.

Harlow finally blinked and her fear eased. Shaking her head, she rested back on the bed and sighed.

“I like how fast on your feet you were,” she mumbled. “I’m too out of it when I wake up.”

I gave her a grin. “I hadn’t been asleep long. You should see me in the morning.”

“Are you crabby?” she asked, smiling.

“No, not really. I’m actually a morning person if I enjoy more than a few hours of decent sleep. Consider yourself warned.”

“Well you ought to prepare yourself for an amazing level of morning grumpiness. Jace once told me I wake up smelling of angry old man.”

Smiling still, I couldn’t keep my hand from grazing her cheek. Harlow didn’t give me the freaked look from the barbecue. Relaxed, she watched me as I touched her again. I knew a third touch might push her too far, so I forced my hand on the bed.

“I’m glad we’re friends,” Harlow whispered, her eyelids barely open.

Resting my head on the pillow, I studied her. “Good thing your womanly rage caused you to attack me yesterday.”

Eyed closed, Harlow smiled. “I’ll show you womanly rage.”

Watching her sleep, I relaxed in a way I hadn’t in years. Her presence lifted something dark off of me and I didn’t want the oppressive weight to return. My mother once asked me why I couldn’t throw off what kept me chained. The words felt easy coming from her, but I couldn’t escape my past. All these years, I never found a way to combine the man I was before Mexico and the man I became. Instead, I hid behind my masks like the good killer.

Harlow was only a girl and still trapped in her own chains. We were both lost in the past. I wasn’t sure she could help me break free or how I might heal her scars.

Dozing off, I accepted that we’ll never find our magical fix. This reality didn’t mean we couldn’t enjoy being friends while I was in Ellsberg. Not everything in life had to be so damn momentous. Sometimes, our only choice was to embrace the little wins.