Starting Point (7 page)

I looked down at the smeared, drying messes on our stomachs and the condom on his now softened cock. “We really need to get cleaned up,” I said, but as I tried to roll off the bed, Kira stopped me.

He looked me in the eye seriously. “Matt, I love you and you mean the world to me.”

He quite often told me this, like it was his job to remind me. “I know,” I told him. I leaned in and kissed him. “And I won’t ever doubt it again.”

“Go start the shower,” he said with a smile. “I’ll join you in a sec.”

I hadn’t even got under the water and he was behind me. I soaped up and he rubbed me down, skimming his hands over my body as the water washed me clean. He kissed over my right shoulder and up my neck to my ear. It was weird—it still made me shiver, it still gave me goosebumps when he gently bit down on the lobe, but I heard nothing.

There was no whispers, no soft moans. Not in my right ear anyway.

But then his lips found my left ear and he whispered, “You’re done. My turn.”

He was even sexy bossing me around in the shower. I returned the favour, soaping him up and washing him down, planting soft kisses across his shoulder blades, and when he turned around, the sight of the ring resting on his chest took my breath away.

He must have seen the look in my eyes, because he said, “If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late.”

I smiled as I kissed his collarbone and the water washed over both us. “You might get into trouble for being late to work, but I won’t.”

Kira growled and bit my shoulder. “Not fair.” He shut the water off, stepped out of the shower, picked up a towel then threw it at me. “Anyway, those kids wouldn’t let you forget it, and neither would Boss.”

“True.”

He kissed me lightly before he walked out of the bathroom. “Five minutes, babe.”

Exactly five minutes later we were in the car and headed to the Club. Kira pulled up where there was a spot, not too far from the doors to the fight club.

“Who are those two?”

“They’re the two guys I’ve told you about.”

“The two guys who’ve been hanging around outside?”

“Yep. That’s them.”

“Is that Rueben?”

I looked out of the windshield to where the small African-American boy was talking to the two men on the corner of the block. “Yep.”

“Does he know those guys?”

“Don’t know. I’ve seen them hanging around a bit. They don’t come into the club, so I don’t really see much of what goes on outside of it,” I said.

“They look like trouble,” he said quietly. “I mean, what kind of adults hang around kids like that?”

“The ones with not-so nice objectives. The type that shouldn’t be on the streets.”

Kira was quiet for a long second, his brow creased, and he looked at his hands. “Matt…you’re not a cop anymore…”

“That’s why I’m not involved in any way,” I told him. It probably should have bothered me that he thought I was involved, but it didn’t. He had every right to ask. “And I
won’t
be involved in any way. If I think they’re a threat to anyone, I will put a call in to the department. I promise you, Kira, I won’t put myself or anyone I love in jeopardy again.”

He looked at me and smiled. “I believe you.”

I looked back out to where Rueben was. He seemed happy enough—he was smiling anyway. “But right now, those two guys are just innocent men on the street. Maybe they live close by. I really don’t know.”

Kira nodded. “It’s okay, Matt. You don’t have to justify anything.”

“I know,” I told him. “And you don’t have to justify asking. I will tell you anything. No more secrets, remember?”

Kira smiled again. “Like the tattoo you wanted? Were you going to tell me about that?”

“No,” I said with a snort. “It was a secret.”

This time, Kira laughed. “Maybe we should talk about that some more.”

“You keep bringing it up,” I said with a grin. “I’m starting to think you’re rather taken with the idea?”

“I wasn’t,” he said, looking a little embarrassed. “Until you mentioned getting one that reminded you of me.”

“Well, I do rather like the idea of having you permanently etched into my skin.”

Kira’s head fell back and he groaned. “Get out or I’ll be late. I’ll see you at about a quarter-past nine.”

I snorted. “You know what else we mentioned once the other night but haven’t since?”

Kira looked at me, somewhat nervously. “No, what?”

“A dog. At the wedding, I mentioned kids—which was just an errant comment, by the way—and you said we should probably start with a dog.”

“Oh, God,” he mumbled. “We’re going to be looking at dogs, aren’t we?”

I grinned hugely and nodded. “Dogs and tattoos.”

Kira laughed out a sigh. “Go on, get out of the car. Before you bring up any other life-changing suggestions.”

I gave him a grin for good measure then got out of the car. As I walked up to the front doors of the fight club, Rueben walked over too. “Man, you are in trouble!” he said.

I smiled at the kid. “What for this time?”

“Claude’s been here all day, waitin’ for you to show up.”

“I told her I was doing a late shift and I’d be here in the afternoon!”

The little guy shook his head pitifully. “Well, she’s reorganized everybody and you’re in trouble.”

I laughed and put my hand on the boy’s shoulder, leading him to the door. “Well then, come on. I better get this over with.”

Chapter Five

Claude was feisty. All four and a half feet tall and full of sass. She greeted me with her hand on her hip and a raised eyebrow. “Where th’ hell you been?”

Boss who was standing behind her grinned. He didn’t have to say anything when a pint-sized spitfire could say it for him.

I looked at my watch. “I’m on time! I said three o’clock!”

Claude rolled her eyes. “Lots to do today, Matt.”

“She’s been waitin’ all day for you, man,” Arizona said, walking up to me. The big man smiled. “Keepin’ all of us organised too.”

I smiled at the little girl. “Good to see someone’s in charge, Claude.”

She beamed. “What are we doing first, Matt?”

“Well, I’ll just put my bag in my locker then you and me are going to go to church,” I said. “We have an hour before our first class.”

Ruby, who had been quiet up until this point, laughed. “Church? What the hell for?”

“Yeah, Matt?” Claude chimed in. “What are you takin’ me there for? Do you need to talk to God?”

Arizona bit back a chuckle, and I smiled at Claude. “Not to God. Well, not this time anyway, kiddo,” I answered. “I need to talk to the pastor.”

“The what?”

“The man that works there,” I said, simplifying my answer.

“Right then,” she replied, standing there expectantly. “Well, come on. We’re running out of time.”

I went over and threw my bag into my locker. “All right, squirt. Keep your hat on.” I shut my locker door. “You’re worse than my old boss, and he was like a military drill sergeant.”

Rueben laughed, and Claude eyed her big brother. “You comin’, Ruby?”

“Nah,” he said dismissively.

“You’ll be here when we get back, right?” she asked.

“Sure,” he said.

She nodded, happy with that, and I walked to the door and held it open for her. “Come on. God forbid if I’m running late.”

“You probably shouldn’t say God if we’re going into a church,” she lectured me as she walked out, making the guys in the club laugh.

I shook my head at the little girl, but stepped in stride beside her and we headed towards the old church on the corner of the next block. She wore the same simple clothes—a pair of shorts and a shirt that looked dirty, and her shoes were old and looked a bit too small. There definitely were no brand names and were most likely second hand when she’d got them new. Her black curly hair was wiry and wayward, but it added to her charm.

“What are you going to see this man for?” she asked, as we made our way up the sidewalk.

“Well, you know how we’re trying to organise some fundraising?” I asked.

Claude nodded, so I said, “Well, we’re going to see if he wants to help out.”

Claude looked up at me, and her big brown eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think churches had money.”

“I’m not going to ask him for money,” I said, stopping at the steps to the church. I pointed towards the door. “I’m going to ask him if he wants to get on board with us.”

I opened the heavy wooden door and waited for Claude to walk in under my arm, then I followed her in. It was a large rectangular shaped room, with stained glass windows and wooden pews in rows. It was empty, and even a little cold. Claude seemed a little hesitant so I headed up the aisle first and the small girl followed close behind me.

We were met by a curious, middle-aged man. He was well-dressed for this part of town, wearing grey slacks and a white business shirt, and his thick short brown hair was kind of slicked down. He smiled warmly and wrinkles creased at the corners of his eyes. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Pastor Michael?” I asked. Boss had given me a name, or the name he thought belonged to the man who’d been the Pastor here for the last ten or so years. Boss wasn’t a religious man, or so he’d explained, but he thought that was the name someone had given him.

The man in front of me smiled again, but it was cautious this time as he eyed me then Claude, who was still close behind me. I recognised the look. From my years as a cop, I could tell this man was street-wary. I concluded he was the man we were here to see before he confirmed it. “I’m Pastor Michael,” he said.

I extended my hand and smiled. “I’m Matthew Elliot, and this here is Claudia.”

He shook my hand and smiled more genuinely this time. “And what brings you to Saint Andrews?”

“Well, as you probably know, the fight club on the next block has been taken over by the City of Los Angeles.”

“Yes,” he said. “And are you in favour of this recent development?” he asked, obviously not sure of my purpose.

“Very. I’m proud to say I had a hand in closing the drug-ring down,” I told him. “Leon Tressler was a grub and is well-placed behind bars.”

Pastor Michael’s eyes widened. “You’re
that
Matthew Elliot?”

“I am,” I told him. “And we now run drug and self-awareness classes, and fitness courses, for the local kids. I’m trying to get schemes set up for kids, to give them a chance, when no one else would.”

“It’s very admirable,” he said.

“It’s very costly.”

He smiled knowingly. “Whoever is generous to the poor lends to the Lord, and He will repay him for his deed,” he said, rattling off some biblical quote. Then he added, “But if you’ve come looking for funds…the church simply has none to give.”

“No, not money. Advice,” I told him quickly. “We have some government funding, but it’s not enough to keep our doors open. We’re looking into additional sponsorship, but we’re trying to get a community fundraising day together.”

“And you want
advice
?”

I nodded. “Yes, and your support.”

Pastor Michael looked at Claude. “Do you like the new club?”

She nodded. “It’s pretty cool,” she said. “Matt here treats me pretty good.”

“Claude here is my second-lieutenant,” I said with a smile. “She keeps the place running smooth—don’t ya, squirt?”

She rolled her eyes, and the Pastor tried not to smile. “I can see you’re trying to do good with these kids,” he said to me. “I think we can work together on this. I’m open to suggestions. We’re not busy here like we used to be,” he went on to say. “Times are tough.”

“They are,” I agreed.

Then Claude said, “If you want people to come in, Mr Michael, maybe you should make it look like fun.” The little girl looked around, then up at both of us. “It looks scary.”

I smiled at Michael, and he nodded, most seriously. “I will take that into consideration.”

Claude nodded, like her work here was done. “It couldn’t hurt.”

The Pastor looked at me. “Second-lieutenant, yes?”

I nodded. “Yep.”

We talked for a little while longer, about ideas and legal requirements, with Michael promising to come into the club one day and see for himself. And when we headed out of the front of the church to leave, the two skinhead-looking men were on the sidewalk again. They were only walking past, but I could tell from the look that crossed Michael’s face, he didn’t like them.

“Do you know much about them?” I asked.

“Tyler James and Darius McInnes.”

The names meant nothing to me. I’d not heard of them before. “I’ve only seen them around. But they seem to hang around the kids a bit.”

“Tell the kids around here to steer clear of them,” he said softly, but his warning was clear.

I nodded. “I will,” I promised. “Come on, Claude. Work to do, remember?”

She ran over to me and with promises to be in touch, we went back to the FC.

Like every other afternoon, I ran some health and fitness classes for the kids that turned up, showing them some exercises and a few new self-defence moves. I also tried not to think about how most of them left, without parents or siblings, onto the darkened LA streets.

Just before closing time, when all the kids were gone and Arizona was with his last client, I picked up the phone. I didn’t use the phone much anymore. If I was at home it was fine, or if the club was quiet and it would be a quick call, it was okay, but putting a phone to my only functioning ear limited all auditory sensors to the phone call, and nothing outside of it.

“Kurt Warner,” he answered his phone abruptly.

“Hey, Kurt, it’s me, Matt.”

“Elliot!” he replied, his tone now cheerful. “Let me guess. You miss us, and given Mitch is still on his honeymoon, I’m your next best option.”

I snorted into the phone. “You should be a detective.”

He burst out laughing. “What’s up?” he asked, getting to the point of my call. “How’s things? You and Frankie looked tight at the wedding, so I’m presuming all things are good on that front?”

“All things are great on that front,” I said. I considered not saying any more until I’d spoken to Mitch, but my no secrets policy extended to everyone. “I um…I asked him to marry me,” I said, my smile widening. Without making a conscious decision to do so, my hand went to my new necklace, feeling the metal band that hung from my neck.