Indulgence (324 page)

“I’m sorry. I thought—”

“He didn’t care anything about me until he found me with
someone else. Remember what I told you? He’s married. He has no right…”

“Gina, all the reason I shouldn’t leave you alone with him.”

“Mr. Smith and Mr. Wesson would disagree. Trust me when I
tell you I’m quite safe. If I felt otherwise, I wouldn’t request you leave.”

“Then go inside. I’ll wait here until I know you’re inside.
What if his friends are just lurking around some car here?” He made a sweeping
motion with his hand.

“No. Absolutely no. You get out of here.”

“Why are you protecting him?”

“I’m not. I’m protecting
you
. This could go on your
record. He’s not worth the trouble he could cause you.”

“I can handle myself. Worse badasses have come after me
before and I did just fine.”

“Yea, with the rest of your Team. This is different. You’re
going to have to trust me on this, Armando. Please! Just go. I’ll be fine.”

Sam coughed and spit up blood. She was running out of time.
She pulled her weapon out and held it down, legs apart in the stance she’d been
taught. She got out her phone and dialed the station.

“I’ve been attacked. I’d like some police protection over
here right away. I’m in danger.” As she listened to the voice on the other end
of the line, she motioned for Armando to leave. It hurt that he nodded his head
and, without taking her in his arms, walked back to the truck, opening the
driver’s door. Before he got in, he removed the rest of the window, kicking it
with a swift upward jab with his right foot. Glass was scattered all over the
street. Shards sparkled like diamonds in the night.

In a cloud of gray smoke and one large backfire the truck
disappeared into blackness.

She prayed it wasn’t the last time she would see him.

Armando cranked the steering wheel and screeched around the
first corner he could find. He’d double back and make sure she was okay. Gina
was right about one thing. He could get his ass in a sling for tampering with
the local riffraff. Didn’t matter that they were the scum of the earth. As a
SEAL, he was required to take the high road, even if that meant it cost him his
life. He was used to risking his life. He wasn’t used to risking the career he
felt he was made for just so he could get into a fight with a lowlife biker at
a gang bar. Not the way he’d envisioned his discharge happening.

And that’s why this was so freakin’ hard, to leave her alone
with a cretin who clearly had no boundaries and had trouble controlling his
rage. That sort of dude deserved worse than a kick to the gut and a broken
nose. Armando had no room in his “decent zone” for bad guys who liked to beat
up women and kids.

For a street urchin, Gina sure knew how to take care of
herself. Surprisingly well put together, he thought. Carried a concealed
firearm, which was against the law in California. But she didn’t appear to be
fazed. So maybe Gina was tougher than Armando thought. Maybe she was one of
those GI Janes who got booted for bad behavior. Cavorting with the wrong
officer or married man. Yet he couldn’t see her being that kind of a slut.
She’d already been hurt, she’d said.

No, there definitely was something more about Miss Gina. His
traitorous body part was enthusiastically looking for another close encounter,
in spite of the fact he’d been sent away—at gunpoint, no less. Didn’t matter if
the gun was aimed at the ground or at the beefy asshole who interrupted them.

He slowly pulled around two more streets, through a one-way
alley and then parked perpendicular to Gina’s street, shutting off his lights
as he did so.

Motorcycles rumbled down the street and soon three Harleys
parked beside what must have been Sam’s bike, propped in the shadows at the
edge of the complex. He’d been stupid not to notice the vehicle. He’d been
distracted by the feel of her skin as he ran his fingers down her arm, the way
her perfect breast warmly caressed the right side of his torso as they drove.
He loved the way she smelled, all spicy and almond, not like the cheap perfume
he’d scented on hookers and other girls who frequented this neighborhood.

This evening, as he’d looked down at her, with those big
brown eyes and dark hair splayed all over Fredo’s second seat, he’d felt as if
she was his first woman. Like it was her first experience too. This resembled a
sweet high school thing he’d forgotten about. Something innocent and good, the
way she made love to him. It was clean and dignified. Took his breath away how
much he wanted to please her. Go slow. Make it last forever. And fuck! She’d cried,
for Chrissakes. At first, he’d thought he’d hurt her. But no, she was overcome.

Overcome?
When had that happened to him before? He
checked his memory. Was she a virgin and he didn’t notice?

He discarded that thought. He gripped the door handle, ready
to bolt from the truck when he heard the police sirens.

Thank God.

A short tussle ensued, and tempers flashed between two
uniformed officers in the first patrol car and the bikers. Flashlights darted
everywhere, accentuated by strobing red and blue lights, waking up Hell itself
with the commotion. So much for low profile.

An EMT van arrived, but Sam was up on his feet, kicking the
dirt with his black boot and probably swearing like any crusty sailor would if
he got an anchor dropped on his foot. At one point Sam groped for Gina’s arm,
lurching his huge body forward, but the uniforms separated them. He earned a
huge push, which sent him on his ass in the road. His face was red, made redder
by the flashing lights, as he stood, arms waving in the air. The three buddies
grabbed him in a huddle, but Sam wasn’t having any of it, not at first. He got
talked down in the end, though.

Two uniforms escorted Gina safely to her condo. A second
patrol car pulled up. After determining it was safe to leave, Armando put the truck
in reverse, careful not to grind the gears, and backed up slowly, then turned
around when he was out of eyesight of the little conclave.

He headed to Mia’s house and hoped Fredo had been able to
hang on long enough that he could take his buddy home. He needed to think up a
good explanation for the missing truck window.

The rain that had fallen earlier returned. He watched
Fredo’s wipers do a piss-poor job of removing the wetness from the dusty
windshield. He made a mental note to have the wiper blades replaced when he got
the window done.

The little yellow house with white trim glowed from within.
Mia must have turned on every light inside. He knocked on the front door,
hearing Mia in the middle of a frank discussion with Fredo, as the baby cried
in the background.

“You fuckin woke up the kid, Fredo,” Mia said as she stalked
towards the front door. Armando’s signature knock had alerted her as to who was
waiting on the porch.

“Yea, well, I don’t care. Mia, you gotta start listening to
people who care for you. You’re throwin’ your life away, babe.”

“I’m not your babe,” she snarled as she opened the door
without enthusiasm. Without a “hello” she turned her back on her brother and
disappeared down the hallway to a back bedroom.

“Took you long enough.” Fredo’s prominent forehead and bushy
eyebrows were even more prominent and wrinkled. “I’m over here trying to make
nice with this she-wolf and you’re out there doing God-knows-what with that
little dish. I hope she was worth it, man.”

Armando wanted to say something, but decided to zip it
instead. Mouthing off to Fredo and then telling him about his injured truck
might not be the smartest of ideas.

“Had a little trouble over at Gina’s.”

“What kind of trouble?” Mia held little Ricardo in her arms.
She’d changed into skin-tight black leggings and an oversized T-shirt. A
rhinestone-studded clip held up her dark curls. The baby’s face lit up when he
recognized his uncle Armando.

“Mia,” Armando said as walked with his arms outstretched to
take the baby, “how well do you know Gina’s ex, that Sam character?”

Armando loved Ricardo’s fresh scent. He rubbed tears from
the baby’s chubby cheeks and let him pat his face, pull on the hair behind his
ears.

“Met him for the first time tonight.” Mia leaned against the
hallway doorframe, and crossed her long legs, almost sending Fredo to the
ground with a gasp. Acting as if she took no notice of the Mexican SEAL, she
folded her arms across her nonexistent belly and sighed. It pushed up her
breasts and Fredo abruptly turned his back to her and swore in a whisper.

“She never mentioned him before.” Mia delivered a
half-lidded who-the-fuck-cares look straight back at her brother.

This surprised Armando. “So then I have to ask you, how well
do you know Gina?”

Fredo slumped on one of the leather chairs and waited for
Mia’s answer.

“We’re friends. We hang out at places together. Go clubbing.
We’re good for each other, checking up on each other, texting when we pick up
guys. You know. To be safe.”

Fredo was swearing in Spanish again, lecturing the floor,
but kept it low.

“She pick up lots of guys?” Armando winced inside that he’d
asked her that question.

“I never know. I think so.” She uncrossed her arms and stood
erect. “Why, am I supposed to go follow my girlfriends around and see who
they
go home with like you do to
me
?”

“I don’t do that, Mia.”

“Fuck you, Armando. What do you call tonight? We were having
a good time with some new acquaintances and you go all Navy SEAL ballistic on
them. Ruin our evening.”

Fredo inserted himself. “Mia, those dudes were going to ruin
your night all right. Girl, you sure know how to dredge the bottom for the
worst scumbags”

“You forget one thing, Fredo. The bikers were
Gina’s
friends. Not mine. Not sayin’ I didn’t kinda like the big one, though.” Mia
flashed her toothy smile and batted her eyes directly at Fredo while she
delivered the kill shot. “I like big guys. Big,
tall
guys, with lots of
tats and muscles.”

Armando saw Fredo bunch his hands into fists. His breathing
was long and labored, but in control.

God bless you, Fredo. You are a fuckin’ saint.
Armando could not say the same for his sister. He looked at little Ricardo
wiggling in his arms. He vowed to be very prominent in his nephew’s life. With
or without Mia’s permission. He’d make it his personal mission. No way was this
little boy going to grow up Mia’s way as long as he was alive to alter it.

“You know what, Mia? You just insulted the man who saved my
life more than a dozen times.” Armando was saying it because it was the truth,
not just to give Fredo a shred of the respect he so richly deserved. “You just
hurt someone who only wants the best for you. The more we try, the meaner you
get. Mama, Clark, Fredo here, and all the rest of the Team—everyone cares about
you, except
you.
”

She walked up to Armando and snatched the baby from his
arms, retreating to the corner of the living room. “Well, now that you’ve
gotten this all figured out, get the hell out of my house,” she spewed. “Just
because you bought it for me doesn’t give you the right to come in here and
tell me how to live. I can take care of myself. What about
that
don’t
you understand, Armani?”

Armando could do nothing but shake his head from side to
side. Fredo had lost interest, staring down at the ground. He could tell that
the Mexican SEAL wanted to be anywhere but here.

“C’mon. Let’s go.” He got a nod of agreement from his
shorter Teammate. Armando felt like a complete douchebag for getting Fredo
involved in the first place. And then to have to stand there and hear him get
abused by his own sister. Not to mention the shit he and the rest of the Team
had been giving Fredo over the past year.

Before they could close the door behind them, Mia shouted
out, “And don’t go trying to use your sexy ways to turn Gina against me. You
stay the hell out of my life, hear? No rescue needed, or wanted, thank you very
much. And stay the hell away from my friends.”

Outside, Fredo held out his palm for the keys and Armando
ignored the gesture.

“Fuck’s wrong with you, Armani? Give me my fuckin’ keys.”

“I’m gonna fix the window.”

Fredo walked over to the driver’s door and swore. He kicked
the truck, creating a small dent to match several other ones. “That asshole do
this?”

“I’ll fix it, I said.” Armando was getting weary of the
drama. What he really wanted was a cold beer, some smack talk, and then a hot
shower and bed. He could still smell Gina’s scent on his shirt. He still felt
her silky skin beneath his fingers. He was getting hard all over again. But he
was standing here talking to one of his best friends about his broken window.
And he was still getting hard.

What kind of animal are you?

Armando released the keys and Fredo drove them over to the
Rusty Scupper. Lieutenant Malcolm Jones, Cooper and a new guy, SO Marc Beale,
all from SEAL Team 3, looked up from the table outside where they had parked
their butts, warming themselves by the fire pit in the center. They were alone
since the place was wet from the rain. Armando noticed the three Teammates were
wet as well.

“You guys know it’s been raining?” he asked them after he
gave his order to the waitress.

Beale made a
ribbit
sound like a frog.

Cooper grinned. “Hell, Armani, I was just thinkin’ of going
for a swim. You up for that?”

Jones had wrinkled his nose.

Fredo had noticed too, and added, “Jones, you gotta understand,
this is a tradition. We love our midnight swims as much as we love our midnight
HALO jumps. Right guys?”

There was a general mumbling in the affirmative.