Home Free (24 page)

“I think we need to clear some stuff up,” he
said, his eyes meeting mine.

“Uh-hunh.”

“I know I hurt you. I’m sorry.” He meant it,
I could see that, but he was just so utterly fucking clueless I had
the urge to strangle him. Despite their obvious advantages over
battery-operated appliances and cats, sometimes I think men have
the lower IQ.

“You’re not sorry for the right thing, Danny.
You’re sorry you left. I was never sorry about that.” He wanted to
clear some stuff up, fine, let’s clear some stuff up. I felt my
throat tighten and my eyes went a little blurry, but I’d be damned
if I gave him the satisfaction of seeing me cry. I clenched my jaw
and went on. “I always knew you were going to leave. But you didn’t
give me a chance to say goodbye. All I wanted was to tell you I
loved you, tell you I wanted the best for you and say goodbye. But
you didn’t trust me. What did you think, that I’d throw myself at
your feet, crying, and beg you to stay? Christ, Danny, I would have
cut off my right arm before I asked you to stay in this town. So,
yeah, it hurt when you left. But you didn’t believe I loved you
enough to let you go, and that’s what broke my heart.” I glared at
him and shoved a wayward strand of hair out of my face.

“Goddammit, Alexis.” He had only called me
Alexis once before. “Of course I knew you’d let me go. I just
didn’t think I could.”

I thought, hunh? But I just stared at him,
turning my shoe over and over in my hands.

“After we spent that night together at my
parents’ house and I woke up with you in my arms, I knew that was
all I ever wanted. I was ready to give up baseball, my scholarship,
my future, everything just to be with you. I went to work that day,
and on my way home, I stopped and bought a ring.”

“
What
?”

“Shut up and let me finish. I bought a ring.
I had it all figured out. We’d get married, and I would take over
the gravel yard like my dad always wanted. We’d have some kids and
live happily ever after. I went home to change and my folks were
there. The old man was on a bender and my mom was tiptoeing around,
trying to be invisible so he wouldn’t start in on her. And I saw us
in ten years. Probably less.”

“That’s crap. You’re not your father, for
crissake.”

“My old man’s mean when he’s drunk. He didn’t
start drinking until he got disgusted with his life. How long do
you think it would’ve taken for me to get disgusted with my life,
stuck in Minter, no education, no baseball, running the goddamn
gravel yard and breaking bones for Casaletto?

“I knew I had to leave, and I didn’t think I
could do it if I looked in your eyes one more time. I threw
everything into the Mustang and left that night. I figured I could
live with you hating me, but I would never be able to live with you
being afraid of me.”

I stared at him for a full minute.

“Turns out, I can’t live with you hating me,
either.”

I threw my shoe at him and stood up, hands on
hips, voice quavering. “Damn you, Salazar, you’ve had over a decade
to come up with a story, and that’s the best you can do?” I pulled
off the other shoe and brandished it.

I felt the tears slide down my cheeks. He
stood too, closing the gap between us in one stride, and took my
face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. Our eyes
locked, and his flashed too many emotions for me to sort through.
Regret, for sure.

“
I’m sorry I hurt you
.”

“I hate you,” I whispered. My shoe clunked to
the floor.

“I know, baby.” He tilted my face up and met
my mouth with his, and damn if I didn’t forget my name. Then his
tongue was in my mouth, hot and searching, and the flames seared
through my body and I thought, shit, how does he do that? He slid
his hands under my shirt, lifting it over my head, and the last
vestige of reason I had left took a stand.

“Not in the living room, someone might
see.”

Danny looked around. “Lex, you live
alone.”

“Sure I do.” I took his hand, leaving my
t-shirt where it had fallen, and led him down the hall to my
bedroom, then closed and locked the door behind us.

“I, uh, wasn’t planning - ” I started.

He reached in his pocket and pulled out a
strip of about a dozen condoms and tried for a sheepish grin. It
was more of a smirk, and I thought about being indignant that he
was so confident, but who was I kidding? He was fucking gorgeous.
We had years to make up for. I seriously doubted if a dozen was
going to be enough.

I tried to push his shirt up, and he backed
away, an evil smile lighting his face.

“No way. You saw me in my underwear the other
day. Now it’s my turn.”

I wriggled out of my cargo shorts, sucking in
my breath and holding it. I slipped my bra off and stood there,
glaring at him and praying he wouldn’t laugh. His breathing got a
little uneven, and I thought that was probably a good sign.

“Maybe,” he said.

Maybe? Maybe?!? Was he fucking kidding me? I
got more enthusiasm from my gay ex-husband. I was speechless. I
didn’t know if I was mortified or furious, or where the blunt
instruments were. I sputtered and Danny bent forward, kissing my
neck, his hand trailing down my belly.

“Your underwear,” he said between nibbles,
“they say maybe. What do you say?”

I remembered now. “Stupid underwear,” I
whispered, still holding my breath.

“Lex,” he was still nibbling, but not on my
neck anymore.

“Mmmm-hmmm.”

He traced a little circle on my breast with
his tongue. “Breathe, honey.”

The afternoon of world-class sex was cut
short by Danny’s meeting with his attorney, a former teammate whose
practice was in Oakland, two hours northwest of Minter.

“Jeez, couldn’t you find a lawyer further
away?” I whined. We still had condoms left. That didn’t seem
right.

“I tried, but no luck,” he countered, pulling
on his boots. He leaned over the bed and kissed me goodbye in a
possessive way that didn’t bother me in the least. “It’s a dinner
meeting, Lex, so I won’t be back till late.” His eyes gleamed. “But
I will be back.”

I shrugged, pouting. “I might not be in the
mood later.”

“Oh, you’ll be in the mood.” He laughed and
sauntered down the hall.

“You know, arrogance isn’t that appealing,” I
hollered after him, closing my eyes for a well-deserved nap.

Now I was in the bathroom, slutting myself up
for a date with the man of my dreams’ brother. Who says I have
problems? I showered without washing my hair and touched up my
makeup, adding an extra layer of mascara and a slash of red
lipstick. My hair was sex-tousled, which went with the theme, so I
left it, fluffing it up a bit and spraying it for insurance. I went
to the closet and got out the new, slinky pink number and slid into
it, then pulled on the sandals that went with it. I looked in the
full-length mirror on the closet door. I could definitely do some
damage in this dress, I thought as the doorbell rang.

I ran down the hall to get the door, and the
goddamn floorboard squeaked. Oh well, it would give Jack something
to do when he was finished with the wiring. I opened the door, and
Mikey gave me the once-over, black eyes glinting mischief.

He shook his head in mock disgust. “Don’t you
have any self-control?”

I blushed and shrugged. “Not when it comes to
your brother, evidently.”

“Things still complicated?”

“I’m not sure. We don’t seem to be mad at
each other anymore,” I said, unable to keep from grinning like an
idiot.

“Please don’t feel compelled to give the
details.”

I laughed and got my purse, making sure I had
the invitation. I remembered something. “You didn’t tell me you’d
visited Sherry this morning.”

“I didn’t. I dropped off flowers. She didn’t
seem like the kind of person who was going to get many
well-wishers, and I know how girls like flowers. How did you find
out? I didn’t tell Danny I went.”

“Jimmy C was having you tailed and expected
you to go in the room and try to finish the job. The uniform had
orders to follow you in the room and arrest you. They think you
spotted the tail and dumped the flowers at the desk to avoid being
caught.”

Mikey stared at me. “And you think what?”

I shrugged. “You always know what I’m
thinking. Why don’t you tell me?”

He hesitated a moment. “Common sense is
telling you that you shouldn’t believe any person you’ve just met,
least of all an ex-con and a murderer to boot. Common sense is
telling you that your brother is a pillar of the community and
would never do anything illegal or immoral, or anything that wasn’t
mind-numbingly boring, for that matter. Common sense is telling you
that the cops are better at this than you are, and that the only
person with a real motive for any of this is me.”

“That about sums it up.”

“Fortunately for me, common sense isn’t
exactly your forte.”

“Hey!”

“You can trust me, Alex. I know you’re
thinking that I wouldn’t tell you that you couldn’t trust me, and I
suppose that’s true. You’re going to have to make up your own
mind.”

I figured I already had. Don’t ask me why. I
just wasn’t getting an
I killed the body shop guy
vibe. And
once again, my stomach felt fine. I noticed his suit for the first
time. It was dark and well-cut, and he filled it very
convincingly.

“You look nice,” I offered.

He growled. “Not a suit guy. I can’t
breathe.” He fiddled with his tie, and I smacked his hand so he
wouldn’t mess up the way it lay. “So what’s the deal with this
thing, anyway?”

I forgot I hadn’t given him any details. I
explained about the fundraiser. “You said we need to get my brother
excited, push him to make a mistake. Well, he’s completely obsessed
with this election, with his image and everything. So I’m thinking
that his slutty little sister showing up at a campaign fundraiser
with the best looking convicted felon in town might just get him
excited.”

“It’s definitely getting me excited.”

“Very funny.”

I’d conveniently neglected to mention my plan
to Danny before he left. I wasn’t sure if he’d be more annoyed that
I was trying to provoke a possible homicidal maniac or that I was
going out with his brother, but one way or the other, I was pretty
sure he was going to be annoyed. Since the afternoon had been going
along quite nicely, I figured I’d postpone the annoyance as long as
possible.

I shoved Mikey out the door and locked it,
and we got in the Cadillac. He kept fidgeting with his tie as he
drove. “This tie is cutting off the flow of blood to my brain.”

“It’s not the tie, it’s my dress,” I said,
kidding.

“Ain’t that the truth,” he muttered, not
kidding.

The fundraiser was downtown, at the Art
Center. They have a large banquet facility that they rent out, and
it’s always been popular because the catering is excellent and the
room is large and beautifully decorated, as you’d expect from an
art center. We parked in the adjacent lot and made our way to the
front entrance, Mikey adjusting his tie again.

“If you touch that tie one more time, I’m
going to call Jimmy C and tell him you set the freaking fire,” I
hissed. Mikey looked like a little boy who’d been scolded, and I
immediately felt awful. “Sorry,” I said, taking his hand, “I’m
nervous. Act like we’re a couple, okay, and try to let as many
people as possible see us together before we run into Brian.” I
figured the more people who saw us, the bigger the scandal would be
in Brian’s strangely twisted mind. This had the potential to be
even bigger news than one of the Murphy boys driving a Japanese
pickup.

“Okey-dokey.” He let go of my hand and
slipped his arm around my waist.

“Invitation?” The tuxedo-clad doorman took my
invitation and made a check mark by my name on his ledger, then
motioned us inside. I did a quick scan. I didn’t see Brian, but my
parents were across the room, talking to Mr. and Mrs. Beauchamp
from around the corner. My mom looked in my direction, and I ducked
away before she could be sure it was me. I took Mikey’s arm and
started making the rounds, keeping an eye out for Brian all the
while. I would introduce myself as Alexis Jordan, Brian’s sister,
shake the person’s hand, and then introduce my date, Michael
Salazar, Jr. From what Mikey’d said about they way people treat
ex-cons, I expected people to faint or run away, shrieking. But no
one did, and most of the guests were downright friendly. It was an
older crowd, mostly my parents’ age, and I didn’t recognize anyone.
No one seemed to recognize me either, although one lady did
congratulate me on my recent nuptials, which garnered raised
eyebrows from Mikey. The fact that I was parading around with a guy
who wasn’t my purported husband didn’t seem to faze her.

We’d been at it for about twenty minutes when
I spotted Brian out of the corner of my eye. He was near the bar,
holding court before Melody and a gaggle of supporters, and he
stopped talking mid-sentence, staring in our direction. I excused
myself from the couple we’d been talking to and grabbed Mikey by
the lapels, ad libbing.

“Kiss me. Now.”

“What?”

“Like you mean it,” I hissed.

He lowered his mouth to mine, and his hand
ran down my back, resting on my sacrum, pressing me to him. Damn.
He convinced me, anyway.

Brian was beside us faster than you can say
beyond reproach
. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

I detached myself from Mikey, licked my lips
to be sure they were still there, and turned to my brother. He had
a stranglehold on his scotch. His face was crimson, and there was a
pulsating vein running vertically through his forehead. Lovely. The
sick feeling in my gut returned. “You left an invitation yesterday,
remember? It said it was a fundraiser, so I figured, the more, the
merrier.” I clapped my hand to my forehead. “God, excuse me, I’ve
forgotten my manners. Brian, this is Junior Salazar. Junior, honey,
this is my brother Brian.”