All This Time (32 page)

Chapter
Sixty-One

A
large figure looms at the top of the staircase behind Lourdes, who is
completely unaware of the presence. She is still rambling along about what an
idiot her brother is for hooking up with me. I don’t owe her shit for an
explanation, but she’s not looking for one either.

“The
Hijos
were not very happy when Juan’s nephew died,”
she bends an eyebrow up at me accusingly.

Shaking
my head, I counter, “I had nothing to do with that boy’s death. So whatever
twisted ideas you have about making me responsible you need to untangle me from
it.”

“Idiot,”
she laughs wickedly. “I am responsible.” If I wasn’t a trained officer my mouth
would be hanging open right now. Did she just say…? “He was collateral damage,
nothing more.”

“What
the fuck?” I mumble.

“I
don’t feel guilty about it, but I would rather have it be justifiable for a
valid retaliation.” I gasp knowing that I’m looking into the face of pure evil.
“I should have just stopped on that damn icy mountain to make sure that when
you flew over the cliff that you actually died.”

“You?”
I accuse.

“Yes, me!”
She screeches angrily with wild eyes and balled
up hands. “Those stupid men think they are the only ones who can get their
hands dirty. My only mistake was leaving you alive on top of that fucking
mountain.”

“Because
of you Wise is dead,” I shout at her while stepping forward. My anger is
writhing along my skin like it has a life of its own.

“Who
gives a fuck? He was a traitorous cop. Good fucking riddance.” She flips her
hand in the air, dismissing his life and I see red.

I
reach forward, grab her by the upper arms and knock her legs out from under
her. We go down to the floor together in a unified grunt and squeal. Her hands
are wild, slapping, scratching and pulling at my hair and clothing. I flip her
over and climb onto her back while wrestling her for her arms, which are tucked
solidly under her stomach.

“Get
off me,” she screeches.

“Fuck
you, bitch.”

“Angel,”
the deep voice belongs to the large body looming at the stairs, now rushing
toward me and Lourdes. “Let her go.”

“Fuck
you. She is a monster. And I’m not going to let her get away with this shit.” I
snap on Decks, sick of everything now.

“Let
me handle it,” Decks demands reaching down for her right bicep. “Get up
Lourdes.” I don’t trust him, but I will give him one chance to do the right thing.
Otherwise, all bets are off and I’ll toast his ass too.

“Fine,”
I grunt pushing off her back and moving over toward my bedroom door. I lean
back through the door frame to peek inside. I’m satisfied when I spot my small
hobo bag hanging on the closet door. My throw away gun is still tucked safely
inside from our trip to the Bahamas. And it’s only eight feet away from me. I
will use it if I have to.

“What
are you doing?” Lourdes screams at Deck while thrashing her arms wildly against
his chest and arms. “Let me go!”

“What
did you do Lourdes?” he bellows at her, gripping her arms tightly and drawing
her up so she is looking him in the face. “Tell me now!”

“Nothing!
Let me go!” she jerks away and he lets her.

“Decks,
she tried to kill me,” I demand pointing a finger at Lourdes.

She
straightens her clothes, runs her hands over her hair and pulls a straight face
before glancing over at me. Eerily calm now she turns back to face her brother.
“She attacked me. I came over to see you and that mongrel jumped on me like the
wild beast she is.”

I
snort, “
Puh
-lease! You heard everything she said. She
confessed without remorse to running me off the mountain and is pissed off that
I lived.” My rage is unstable, my body is tense and I stare at him expectantly.

“Why?”
is all he asks her, with utter confusion set in his sad
eyes.

“She’s
a liar, Decks. I did no such thing,” she lies. She has taken several steps away
from us, backing toward the staircase.

“You
wanted her out of the way so badly that you were willing to kill her? And then
you let me believe…” he trails off looking at her completely confused.

“You’re
taking that bitches side?” Lourdes snarls at him, her body trembling with
unleashed fury. “What happened to you? You never put anyone before me until
her.” She glares at me with absolute disgust. “How could you bring her in and
trust her? She’s nobody.
Nothing.
I am your sister!”
He takes several steps toward her and she continues to retreat.

“Lourdes,
you need help,” he says accusingly. Finally the right emotion emerges in his
words and demeanor. His fists clench tightly at his thighs. “I told you to stay
away from Angel.”

“If
you had just left your dick in your pants she wouldn’t be here now. But no, you
had to rescue her after Rad was busted.”
Decks is
only
three feet away from Lourdes, her right foot on the edge of the top step. She
glances down behind her before jabbing a finger in my direction while hissing,
“She is beneath you!” She glares directly at me before turning her attention
back to him. “You disgust me. What do you think father would say if he knew you
were slumming with that trailer park trash?”

“Enough,”
he yells and then clutches his arms around his stomach. “You will pay for this,
Lourdes.” His words come out rushed and distorted like he’s in pain. A
grotesque smile creeps along her face. “I will make you pay.” He drops to his
knees still holding his midsection tightly. I rush toward him, draping my arm
over his shoulder and placing my hand on his cheek.

“Fool,”
she howls through a creepy laugh, “You will do nothing.” She takes a step down.
“I can’t take all the credit. Your little drug habit has your mind all fucked
up. It has you believing that you actually love her.” An evil laughter erupts
from deep within her before she takes another step backward. “How nice it must
be for you, Angel, to know that a man must be on drugs to love you.” I ignore
her.

“Decks,”
I tilt his face toward me and see that he is in a lot of pain. “Can you get
up?” he shakes his head. “I’m calling an ambulance,” I say releasing him and
standing.

“Angel,
no,” he groans and then grunts as he tries to stand on his own. I reach down
taking his arm and helping him to rise up all the way. No longer focused on
Lourdes, I wrap my arm around his waist and escort him to his bedroom. Soon we
hear the front door slam, indicating the bitch has left the building.
I’ll
deal with her ass later
.

“Here,”
I encourage helping him sit on the edge of his bed. “Lie back, I’ll grab you a
cool cloth.” His chocolate eyes are pinching tightly, his fingers are turning
white from squeezing them so long, and he winces as I assist him with lying
back, emphasizing his pain is severe. “Okay, easy. I’ll be right back.”

I
dash into his bathroom and come running back out with a wet wash cloth. I sit
next to him and begin rubbing the towel over his brow. He sucks in a sharp
breath like my touch is inflicting pain.

“What’s
wrong?” I ask stressing over him hurting more.

“My
skin feels like it’s on fire,” his voice is raspy and deep.

I
shush him and take one of his hands in mine. He pulls them back to rest on his
stomach. The angle is awkward so I twist around, stretch out beside him and
curl up against his side. I place my free hand under my head for support while
I look down over him. We stay frozen like this for an hour. His breathing
slowly regulates and I can tell by the rise and fall of his chest that he is
finally comfortable enough to sleep. I release a heavy sigh and then slip out
of the bed. Watching him another minute, I shake my head over all the bullshit
I’ve endured while on this case before leaving him resting. Once inside my
bedroom I call Russ.

“I’m
going to need you to put out a B.O.L.O for Lourdes,” I tell him after closing
my bedroom door and walking into the bathroom.

“What
has psycho Barbie done now?” he chuckles, using the nickname I made up after
our initial encounter for the beautiful and deadly blonde.

“She
tried to kill me,” I pause for the effect and he doesn’t disappoint. I’ve never
actually known Russ to be speechless, but apparently this did the trick. “Are
you still there?”

“Can
you say that again?”

“She
has been a very naughty girl, Russ. It wasn’t Decks or Blues who set you up and
it wasn’t retaliation by the sons when I went careening over the mountain last month.
She confessed it all to me and Decks overheard every word.”

“Holy
shit,” he mumbles. His hand is probably covering his mouth and I can just
picture how crazy-eyed he must look at this moment.

“I
want her arrested for attempted murder on a police officer and if we can get it
bumped up to premeditated that would be even better.”

“I’m
on it,” he states. “Sam, what will you do?”

“I
am finishing this damn thing. Now,” I tell him confidently.

Chapter
Sixty-Two

Throughout
the night Decks will run a fever one minute and the next he is consumed with
body racking shakes from being too cold. Holding onto me like I’m his saving
grace with his eyes pinched closed he clears his throat several time while
gasping for air.

“Angel,”
he groans, his voice just barely a whisper.

“Ssh,
I’m here. Try to rest Decks.” I push sweaty hair away from his forehead with a
mildly damp cloth.

Shaking
his head slowly, he winces and murmurs, “I’m sorry…I didn’t know.” He takes a
shallow, ragged breath and continues. “I would never let her hurt you…if I had
known. Please Angel…if you can find a way to forgive me, please I beg you for
your forgiveness.” Repeatedly through gasps and groans, he continues
apologizing for Lourdes’ behavior and begging me for forgiveness. I hold back
my judgment on him knowing that my plan is the priority over my personal
beliefs.

“I
didn’t know they would go after Wise,” he coughs, turns his head muffling
several deep coughs into the bend of his arm. “I would give anything to change
it all. I loved him like a brother.” He faces me with unadulterated anguish
filling his nearly onyx eyes. His torment over Wise’s death reveals a deep
level of humanity in him that I never could have fathomed almost making me
forget that he is a monster with Wise’s blood on his hands. He doesn’t even
appear bitter about his undercover job, a fact that shocks the hell out of me.
Whispering words of encouragement through the darkest hours of the night and
clenched teeth, biting back dozens of hateful responses, I managed to finally get
him back to sleep about the time the sun comes up.

Now
slipping down the stairs, I am more than pissed off at whomever the asshole is
ringing the doorbell, thinking that an early morning wakeup call is
appropriate. Pulling back the thick wooden door, my grin splits hysterically
across face with unrestrained joy when I see who it is, but it falls instantly
when Blues’ coarse dead eyes glower back at me. He holds me prisoner for a
moment, no emotions bleeding through the coldness he is piercing me with. His
large frame fills the entire doorway. His muscles are taut, stretching through
the black button down shirt clinging to his massive body. My eyes roam over him
from his well-defined, strong shoulders to his powerful thighs, creating a
heady sensation that rushes hot through my blood and makes me sway. His thick
hands that have explored every inch of my body are clasped tightly in front of
him, causing my heart to clench painfully.

I
am flooded with raw emotion looking at the only man I have ever loved. I want
nothing more than to leap into his arms and beg him to carry me away. I ache
for all of him and his sweet kisses so badly. I want to touch him, stare into
his sexy blue eyes while he devours my mouth with his, get lost in his erotic
embrace and tell him I was wrong for walking away from us. Then, I want to
follow all of that up with confessing my undying love for him. But these
thoughts are pushed away into the depths of my broken heart when his
unrelenting glare shifts to complete dismissal before his eyes flick up the
stairs, reminding me that we will never be allowed that relationship.

“Is
Decks here?” he asks flatly.

Standing
statuesque and beautiful on the outside of the doorway, he lowers is gaze back
to me when I don’t respond immediately. This look is more obsidian than the
first. His resentment and disgust blasts me as it pulses off his body like
shock waves during an earthquake. His hardness and total disregard are
palpable, literally throwing me of kilter and I brace myself against the door for
support. I deserve his hatred and I guess that I should count myself lucky to
still be alive. Although we weren’t technically committed, breaking off a
relationship with a powerful cartel member has proven deadly to many women
before me.

“He’s
not feeling well,” I say finally finding the ability to speak. Averting my eyes
while holding onto the doorknob, I anticipate him leaving, but hear my soul
crying out for him to stay.
Enough already, what you had is over
! I
scold myself for being weak when it comes to Blues. He offers a curt, stiff nod
while he continues looking up toward the top of the staircase, like he doesn’t
believe me or is waiting for an invitation. “You can come in and see for
yourself. He didn’t sleep well so he’s still in bed,” I offer peeking up at
him. I notice the stubble on his face when my eyes zero in on the twitching
motion at the back of his clench tight jaw. Provoking him with my knowledge of
Decks being in bed isn’t smart, but he doesn’t glance down at me as he crosses
the threshold, climbing the stairs two at a time in what appears to be a rush
to get away from me.

Instead
of going to my room immediately I make my way through the house to the kitchen
where I gaze out over the still, frozen backyard. Avoiding an awkward moment with
Blues and Decks is a fan-fucking-tastic idea. Even though Decks is probably
still waning between consciousness and death, I don’t need him picking up on
any sexy vibes between me and Blues, although, truthfully our encounter at the
front door was anything but sexy. He was cold and his eyes spoke volumes,
convicting me harshly with my betrayal. I deserve it. Just a week ago he told
me that he loves me. Without waiting for my reply that night he took me back to
his bed and held me against his chest until sleep possessed him, allowing me
the time to cry over the steps I would take just a few hours later, destroying
us completely. It appears my mission is accomplished. I finally got to see him
for the bastard that he really is.

Twenty
minutes later, I tiptoe up the steps heading to my room. Decks’ door is closed
and I assume that Blues is still in there with him. Whatever they are talking
about is none of my business, but the minute Decks is well enough I’m getting
his ass out of here. I cross the room, grabbing a change of clothes on my way
into my bathroom where I begin running scalding hot bathwater. There is nothing
I want more than to finish this job and be back in my real life at the end of
the week. I need it desperately.

Hoping
to forget about the man in the other room, I sink down into the water and begin
dreaming about everything I will do when I return home. I am excited about
helping Tate with his proposal surprise for Kris this weekend making
Valentine’s Day her favorite day of the year instead of the dreaded day we’ve
always thought of it. I smile knowing that at least one of us will have true
happiness. For sure, I’m going to swing by Gran’s. Maybe I’ll talk Kris into
joining me next week, if I can pry her away from her fiancé. Hell, I might even
make a trip to the UK to visit my baby brothers.

After
a long soak in the bathtub, I change into comfy clothes and glance over at the
clock. It has been two hours since I answered the front door. I’m fairly
certain that it’s safe to assume that Blues has left and I’m eager to check on
Decks so I decide to chance a peek. Getting him to agree to my plan quickly
will make all of the hell I’ve gone through for the past year worth it…well
almost.

“Decks,”
I call after knocking on the door and turning the knob. Two sets of eyes shift
my direction when I step into the room. Decks appears to be feeling much better
and is smiling, happy to see me, Blues, not so much. Sitting in a chair on the
far side of the room, he rises out of it promptly. “Sorry,” I offer, glancing
at Decks and forbidding my eyes to drift over to the other side of the bedroom.
“I didn’t realize he was still here. I’ll be back later.”

Before
I can shut the door Decks calls, “Angel don’t run off.”

“Yeah
Angel,” Blues growls stalking toward me, “don’t run off…again.” I swallow hard,
glancing at the hand he lifts up to my face. He places a finger under my chin,
tilting it upward. I lift my eyes slowly, peeking from under my lashes.
“Goodbye,” he says it like he’s teaching me how to leave properly, implying
that he is definitely pissed off that I left without saying it to him.

Glaring
down at me with bitterness, his eyes veil with what looks like regret. More
than likely he is just distressed over admitting his feelings so flagrantly to
a woman he doesn’t even know. His hand glides up, cupping the side of my face
and my eyes drift closed. My skin burns hot from his slight touch and I feel
lightheaded and turned on instantly. I know he hates me, but my flesh, heart
and soul still recognizes Blues’ essence as my one and only. That freaking
stupid romantic bone which I have been lacking in for twenty-four years is
finally deciding to make an appearance, making it difficult for me to focus on
the task at hand. I can’t get sidetracked by the sex-god ever again. What we
had is in the past and I won’t allow it to screw things up with Decks.

“Goodbye
Blues,” I whisper back with a raspy, weak voice.

Sighing
and avoiding his dark eyes, I shift away from him and make my way over to
Decks. Blues turns around, watching me walk away, and I can still feel his
presence behind me beckoning me to return to his arms as I hover over Decks’
bedside. Pausing only a moment, I shake my head slightly, trying to convince
myself once and for all that I’m done–we’re done, while cursing my treacherous
heart. He remains in the doorway until after I sit on the edge of the bed,
taking Decks’ hand into mine. From the corner of my eye I see Blues’ powerful
frame slump slightly before he shifts away, or maybe I imagined it because soon
after I hear his footsteps rapidly descending the stairs followed by the
slamming of two doors; Decks’ front one and the one of mine and Blues’
forbidden love story.

The
show must go on,
I remind myself
.