Seduction (17 page)

She jumps when she sees me. “Craig? What are you doing here?”

She looks guilty as sin. “We need to go inside.” I hold my hand out and she gives me her keys. I unlock the door and let her pass in front of me before I step inside and lock the door behind us. “Where are Robyn and Garrick?”

“Out for the night.” She walks into the living room and places her purse on the coffee table.

I’m two seconds away from losing my mind. “What were you doing at the Water Street Oyster Bar with Estevan?” I yell.

“Checked your texts?”

“Sure did,” I confirm, fisting my hands at my sides. I want to choke someone. “Answer me.”

“He followed me to the park today,” she says. “He threatened to kill Robyn if I didn’t have dinner with him.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you’d flip out instead of letting me take care of my own problems.”

I pace like a caged animal. “You lied to me.”

“I did what I felt was necessary—sorry if you can’t understand.”

“That’s it?” I stop and glare at her.

“I won’t apologize for trying to protect my family
and
you.”

“What are you talking about?” I stalk closer.

“He knows where everyone lives and showed me a photo of you coming out of the gym.”

“What if he’d kidnapped you?” I grab her by the shoulders, ready to shake some sense into her. “Or killed you?”

“That’s better than him visiting my parents and telling them everything that happened.”

“
What
happened?”

“Nothing.”

“Stop lying to me, Marisela.”

“I’m not going to rehash the past.” She’s unbelievably defiant.

“How are we supposed to move forward if you can’t trust me? What the fuck do you expect me to do? Walk around guessing? Want me to spend every minute of every day wondering where you are? If you’re safe?”

“I don’t know if you’re jealous of Estevan or just overprotective. But I want to be free to make my own choices—even if all of them are mistakes.” She slams herself onto the sofa.

“You think I’m jealous of that son of a bitch?” I’m standing in front of her now. “That guy is marked for a special kind of hell—believe me, darlin’. This bypassed envy a long time ago.”

“Go home.”

“Not until you tell me exactly what your plans are.”

She gazes up at me with those fathomless eyes. “I’m moving in with Macey.”

“Does he know where
she
lives?”

No answer.

“Goddamnit, Marisela, tell me.”

“Yeah, he does. Satisfied?”

I kneel in front of her. “You’re killing me, baby.” I place a fist over my heart. “Why?”

“I told you I’m damaged goods. Go away before it’s too late.”

“It already is,” I say.

“What?” Another empty look.

“I love you, Marisela.”

I wait for any kind of a response. Instead, she stares straight ahead, as though something died inside her the minute I shared my feelings. I’m out the front door before I hear her crying. I contemplate going back. Not this time. She needs to work through this before I can help fix things.

I throw myself on my bed.
He loves me.
I knew it the first time he kissed me. Felt something change inside me after we made love the first time. But if I let myself get in too deep, something terrible will happen to me or someone I love. Estevan proved how far-reaching his influence is tonight. I don’t care if Craig is a former cop and his cousin is an active-duty officer somewhere up north. They can’t protect me. And I’m not about to go to the police and tell them everything my ex did to me.

Who’s going to believe the stupid little stripper who dropped out of school to follow her quarterback to Austin? The Beltrans are more like a mob family—nothing will keep their cherished boy from getting picked up by the NFL. Nothing. Everyone is expendable.

I roll onto my side and cup my stomach. It feels like I have food poisoning; maybe I’m dying. Tears sting my eyes. I want Craig. I want the picket-fence dream—a husband, kids, a happily ever after. Sharing this with Robyn and Garrick isn’t an option. There’s only one person I can trust to keep my secret. Someone who’s been through the same crap. I roll off the bed and walk to the dresser. I dig my cellphone out of my purse and call Macey.

“What’s wrong, baby girl?” she asks.

“I’m ready to move in,” I sniff.

“Where are you?”

“At home.”

“Stay put—I’ll be there soon.”

An hour later, Macey lets herself into the house and thunders upstairs. “Marisela?” I hear her call from the hall.

“In here.”

She opens my door. “You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” I say, wiping my eyes.

She sits on the edge of my bed. “Guy problems?”

“Two.”

“Estevan?” She cocks an eyebrow.

I tell her everything.

“Why’d you meet that bastard—he’s so full of it. What’s he got on you? Drugs? Did you get arrested?”

“No.” I drag myself into a sitting position. My body hurts all over. “I got pregnant.”

She blinks rapidly, then takes my hand. “Where’s the baby?”

“Miscarriage.” I never wanted anyone to know. I can barely hold it together talking about it. It’s been only four months. “Estevan insisted I get an abortion. I ran away, lived in shelters or crashed on a friend’s couch when I could. Estevan tracked me down. Let’s just say he wasn’t willing to marry me. And if anyone at school found out, his scholarship might get canceled. That would seriously affect his chances of making it as a professional player.

“One night after he went on a drinking binge, he forced me into his car and took me for a long drive. He wrapped his convertible around a light pole. I was in the hospital for a week. Losing my baby shattered my world.”

“Why didn’t you call Robyn or your mother?”

“Come on, Macey.” She knows better. “My mom would shit a brick if she knew I got pregnant out of wedlock. Remember, it’s all about appearances.”

“I’m sorry.” She looks away. “So what does the little prick want with you now?”

“Marriage.”

That grabs her attention. “Did I hear you correctly?”

“Sure did,” I say. “He’s an ego-tripping freak.”

“That whole fatalistic, no-one-else-can-have-you shit?”

I nod. What else can it be? Because I moved on, Estevan suddenly thinks I’m worth his time. “He won’t give up. I know him too well.”

“News flash,” she says. “American women have the right to pursue happiness and orgasms with whomever they wish.”

It hurts to smile, but I do. “Maybe it’s better for me to go somewhere else. Brownsville or El Paso.”

“You’re not moving to Hicksville or gangbanger central.” She fidgets with my hair. “Those eyebrows are getting pretty thick again,” she teases.

I half smile, but the gravity of what we’re discussing overshadows everything. “But Estevan knows where you live.”

She pinches my cheek. “Do you know what kind of people hang out at my house?”

“I’ve heard.”

She rolls her eyes. “Let me guess, Craig?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Something about orgies.”

She slaps the mattress and laughs. “That boy has some serious control issues.”

“I think I lost him tonight.” So what’s left of my life? My job at the club and a great place to live. “He loves me.”

“That’s almost tragic.”

I sense her deep sympathy. Macey is the kind of girl everyone wants to be like. She’s smart and independent, dresses like a supermodel, and parties like a Hollywood legend. Men follow her around. They worship her. “Tragic in a
Romeo and Juliet
kind of way?”

“Only if you plan on stabbing yourself.”

“Not today,” I croak, then start sobbing again.

“Wait a minute.” She literally picks me up and holds me against her body.

Add super strength to her list of admirable qualities—she’s part of the X-Men team.

“You said that crazy boy loves you. But I never heard you return the sentiment. Do you?”

I raise my head so I can look her in the eyes. “Don’t play emissary for me the way you did with Robyn.”

“You’re avoiding my question.”

“Yes!” I yell. “I love Craig Hanson.”

“That’s good to know.” I hear Robyn’s voice—she’s standing in the doorway.

I jump off Macey’s lap, mopping my face dry with the back of my hand. My tears will give it all away. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello to you, too,” she says. “What’s going on?” Robyn steps in and closes the door behind her.

“Guy trouble,” Macey answers for me. “Nothing she can’t handle. Huh,
chica
?”

I perk up. “Craig and I had a little spat.”

Robyn thrusts her hand on her hip. “Doesn’t look so little to me.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I say, moving toward my dresser. “I’m going to stay with Macey for a few days—take some time off work.” I open the bottom drawer and pull out a backpack. I stuff a few days’ worth of clothes in it without really thinking about what I’m doing.

“Are you sure this is the right decision, Marisela?”

I zip my bag and swing it over my shoulder. “To be perfectly honest,” I say, propping myself against the bed frame so I don’t fall over, “I have no clue.” I start laughing hysterically.

When the speedometer hits 140 I know I’m driving like a maniac and pull over. I open the car door and climb out. I’m somewhere between Corpus and San Antonio, in the middle of the fucking night. Rain batters me. I don’t care; my heart is numb. Truth be told, I searched downtown and the west side for that maniacal little bastard Estevan before I left the city. I should have destroyed him when I had the chance on the River Walk.

I fold my hands behind my head and walk in little circles on the narrow shoulder. An eighteen-wheeler blasts by, spraying me with gravel. Might as well be a thousand knives stabbing me at the same time. Marisela lied to me. Point blank.

I live by certain rules where women are concerned. But this one has already changed me—captured every inch of my being.
Fuck!
Secrets beget lies, and lies beget mistrust. A vicious cycle that’s never ending. I watched my parents’ relationship slowly wither over the years. Now my father decorates his arms with twenty-year-olds and my mother sold herself into marriage to the highest bidder. I promised myself to never get that deeply involved. Screw and move on.

I pull out my wallet and flip it open. I trace the outline of the gold shield hidden beneath some credit card receipts. Because I resigned, I got to keep my badge. Until I’m formally reinstated, I have limited powers as a peace officer. But it never looked as good as it does now. I pat my side. My nine-millimeter is always strapped to my hip outside the club. Lucky I didn’t find Estevan.

Soaked, I jump back in my car and head south, back to Corpus. I don’t know what’s going to happen between Marisela and me tomorrow, but I do know that she’ll never have to worry about that asshole hurting her again.

I wake up to the smell of pancakes and syrup—or maybe I’m dreaming. My eyes open slowly to find Macey sitting on the edge of my bed with a breakfast tray in her hands. As usual, she’s wearing something luxurious, a silk negligee with crystals.

I slide into a sitting position, resting my head against the mahogany headboard. “Did you cook breakfast in that?”

She looks down at herself. “Yeah, why not?”

“Let me guess—a Vannina Vesperini original?”

She smiles and tousles my hair as if I’m her kid who got an A on a test at school. “I’m impressed.”

“Who runs around in stuff like that?” I ask, trying to remember a classic Hollywood star her style reminds me of. Zsa Zsa Gabor? Or maybe Angelina Jolie? I scoot to the edge of the bed so I can see her choice of footwear. “Really?” Embroidered, heeled slippers?

“Italian,” she says.

“You were born in the wrong century,” I say, sliding the tray over my legs. “Thanks for the pancakes.”

She nods. “Thought you could use a little lovin’.”

My cellphone rings; it’s on the nightstand. I glance at the screen—Craig. Ignoring it, I take a bite of food.

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

“I’m not in the mood to get yelled at again.” I nervously flip my hair over my left shoulder so I don’t get sticky syrup on it. “If you heard the way he talked to me last night, heard the desperation in his voice, you’d understand.”

She clicks her tongue. “Just like your sister.”

“What?” I ask with a mouth full of food.

“Robyn pulled the same crap with Garrick.”

I swallow pancakes and the rock-sized lump in my throat. “Please don’t compare me to my sister. Especially my love life.” Although I adore her, I still get kind of freaked out over the fact that my very hot boyfriend used to be in love with Robyn. Call me insecure, but I can’t help it.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Macey corrects. “There’s just something about the power of Gonzalez pussy that drives guys crazy.” Her high-heeled slippers click on the Saltillo tile as she moves around the bedroom. “Craig isn’t anything like your brother-in-law. He’s a player. And somehow you’ve knocked that giant on his knees. I’ve known him for a long time, seen the women he’s banged.”

“So have I,” I mutter.

“Can’t blame him,” she says. Her vibrant, white smile sends warm chills up my spine. “When a guy like Craig finally pulls his head out of his ass and realizes he’s met the right girl, trust me, he won’t stray, because he knows what it feels like to be on the other side of the fence. You didn’t ask him to stop dating other people, did you?”

“No.” I fidget with my fork, suddenly not as hungry as I thought I was.

“Right,” she says. “He willingly gave that all up—for you.”

I shake my head, staring at the far wall. “And after last night, I may have given him every reason to go running back into the arms of one of his lovers.”

“Desire?” Her voice goes up an octave.

“Yes.”

She waves her hand at me. “That girl couldn’t attract flies.”

I laugh skeptically. “Not sure I believe that.”

“Eat your breakfast and meet me downstairs in half an hour,” she says. “We could both use some sunshine.”

After she leaves, I let loose the tears I’ve been holding back. I don’t have any control when it comes to Craig. I’ve never been this careless. Or this spontaneous. Never dreamed of what a future might look like with any guy. Sure, some faceless embodiment of a male presence fills my thoughts, but I could hardly see past the moment with Estevan. And silence doesn’t help. That’s when all the bad memories come rushing back. All the parties—football games—phone calls. All the cowards who stood by and let my ex abuse me.

Of course I’m to blame—I stayed.

I decide to check my voice mail. Three messages from Estevan, one from Craig.
Why won’t you answer the phone, baby?
he asks with that soul-sucking voice.
Call me—I’m waiting.

Waiting for what? For me to piss you off again?
I set the tray on the nightstand and half tumble out of bed. My new bedroom is as big as a studio apartment. Seven hundred square feet of prime real estate overlooking the bay. I curl my toes in the cream-colored carpet. It’s so thick and soft it reminds me of the coat of my parents’ Newfoundland, Admiral.

The room comes completely furnished, but Macey told me she could put everything in storage if I wanted to buy my own furniture. Which I do. Unfortunately, I have very expensive taste. The bed I want from the online store Interior Gallery is over three thousand dollars just for the frame and headboard.
One step at a time,
I remind myself. Right now the most important thing is reestablishing myself as a human being. Learning to trust my instincts and not living in utter fear whenever I’m out alone. One of these days, I’ll look over my shoulder and Estevan
won’t
be there.

I slam my phone down. Two phone calls later, Marisela is still refusing to answer. I’m waiting for my cousin in the IHOP parking lot. He’s in town for a law enforcement convention. A few minutes later, I see his black Ram 3500. I get out of my car and meet him at the doors.

“Where’s Marisela?” Lucas asks.

“Hell if I know.”

The hostess escorts us to a booth. After we sit down, he studies me for what seems an eternity. “What happened?”

“That little prick followed her to the park and coerced her into having dinner with him last night.” I scroll through my photos, then hold up my phone so he can see what Desire sent me. “And when I confronted her, she lied.”

He shakes his head. “I love you, bro, but when you get a wild hair up your ass—everyone’s fair game. You’re carrying around too much hostility. That’s enough to scare a grown man, much less a little girl who weighs a buck fifteen at best.”

He’s right. During police academy, all my academic test scores were off the charts with one exception. The excruciating psych test labeled me as high risk, combative, and too competitive. My sergeant sidestepped the results and sent me to counseling for further evaluation. I ended up on the psychiatrist’s leather couch, naked, with her pumping away on top of me. Needless to say, she sent a glowing report to my superiors the next day. Matter closed.

“Am I supposed to be happy she went on a date with her ex?”

“Date,” he repeats suspiciously. “You’re not telling me something. I remember the way Marisela looked at you. If I found the perfect woman and she stared at me that way, all bets would be off.” He leaned back, draping his arm over the back of the booth.

“What about Leslie?”

“Gone.” He frowns.

“Tabitha?”

He laughs bitterly. “Married.”

I suck in a breath. My cousin married his high school sweetheart a week after graduation, bought a house, and had a kid the year after. They divorced four years later. He’s overly cautious about who he gets involved with now.

“Does Marisela have a sister?”

I roll my eyes. “Two.”

He rubs his hands together. “Single?”

“Married.”

The waitress brings us ice water and coffee. “Ready to order?” she asks.

I don’t even bother looking at the menu. I order the T-bone steak and eggs combo; Lucas does the same.

“I’m seriously thinking about that offer,” I say.

“Joining the Lake Jackson P.D.?”

“Yeah.”

“Thought you loved it here.”

“I do.” I flick the edge of a cardboard foldout on the center of the table. “But if things don’t work out between me and Marisela, I may need a serious change of scenery.”

“What about your house and the landscaping business?”

“I can rent it out for a pretty good profit. Joe runs the shop; I just sign the checks these days.” I pick up my phone and stare at a picture I took of Marisela her first night at the Devil’s Den. She’s flashing me one of those toothy supermodel grins.
Damn it.
I slam my fist on the table just as the waitress arrives with our food.

“Everything all right?” she asks, concerned.

I look at her name tag. “Didn’t mean to scare you, Mary.” I give her one of those seductive smiles that usually make women wet between their legs. “Hard night.”

“Hope things get better for you, sugar.” She pats my hand before she leaves the table.

“Dog.” Lucas smiles, using his fork to mix his scrambled eggs with ketchup.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Still using the Hanson charm to make women weak in the knees.”

“No,” I deny, half laughing. “I simply defused a situation before it got out of hand.”

“Been reading the police academy handbook again?’

“Yeah,” I say. “I think the section on smiling at women is in the community policing chapter.”

He snorts and stabs a piece of steak. “Think I called in sick that day.”

“That’s why you don’t get any ass.”

“Shit…”

We finish eating, then let Mary refill our coffees.

“I’ll be in town for a week,” Lucas informs me. “Why don’t we meet up at the Den tonight?”

“Sure you’re ready for the big city?”

“I think I can handle your podunk club after hanging out at the Men’s Club.”

“Poolside caviar and cigars.”

“For men with discerning taste—you like your women a little bit more on the rustic side.” He tries to provoke me.

“Be there at eight,” I say, standing and dropping a twenty on the table. “We’ll see about rustic.”

We fist bump and I make my way outside. Before I reach my car, my phone rings. It’s Marisela.

I grit my teeth. “Baby…” I can hear her sniffling.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me, too.” I hate when she cries. “Where are you?”

“At Macey’s.”

I take a deep breath, reminding myself to stay calm. “Want me to come over?”

There’s a pause. “I think we both need some space, Craig.”

“Why?” My shoulders tense instantly.

“After last night…” Her voice wavers. “I want a chance to settle in.”

“Are you breaking up with me, Marisela?”

“No!”

I breathe a sigh of relief.

“I’m working tonight,” she says. “Then I’m taking the rest of the week off.”

Shit.
She’s not on the schedule. If I’d known before, I would never have agreed to meet my cousin at the club. Should I tell her? “Lucas is in town.”

“Really?” she asks. “Are you guys going to spend some quality time together?”

“That’s debatable.”

She chuckles. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He wants to party.”

“Dunkin’ Donuts?”

I love the sound of her tinkling laughter. “Making cop jokes now?” I ask. “God, baby…” I need to inhale her, touch her. “You’re killing me again.”

“I miss you already,” she whispers. “I want you inside me.”

I bite my fist; my dick goes rod hard. “Let me come over.”

“Not now,” she says. “But I’ll call you soon.” She hangs up.

I decide to rely on the element of surprise tonight. She asked for space, but if I show up at the club as a paying customer—she won’t refuse me.