Hailey's Truth Page 17

  “Oh, yeah. Right.” She released her grip, and he pulled himself free.

  “Be back in a second.” He went to the bathroom and came out to find Hailey snuggled under the covers. “You’re cold?”

  “Mmm. I just had a major workout. I did a lot of sweating. Now I’m chilly, a little weak, a little shaky. But it was definitely worth it.” She wiggled her brows, smiling.

  Damn, he couldn’t get enough of her. “I see.” He crawled under the blankets, and pulled her closer, needing to touch her skin.

  She snuggled in, sighing.

  Austin looked down as she closed her eyes again. “Are you ready to call it a night?”

  “Hmm?”

  He shut off the music pouring from the television and her lids fluttered open.

  “I wouldn’t mind watching TV. Maybe there’s a movie on.”

  “In a minute.” He was curious about the little hiccup in their evening. “Hailey, what happened a while back?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He played his finger over her cheekbone, over her ear. “I’m trying to figure out what I did to make you uncomfortable.”

  “You didn’t do anything to make me uncomfortable.”

  “For a couple minutes there, I wasn’t sure.”

  “You did everything right.” She picked up his hand, played with his fingers. “This is the first time I actually feel normal afterwards.”

  He frowned. “I’m not following you.”

  She slid her hands along his arm, but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I can count the number of times I’ve had sex on three fingers. This is the first time I actually enjoyed it.”

  Austin’s frown deepened. Another layer to Hailey he hadn’t expected. She was stunningly hot, so incredibly outgoing and confident. He noticed the way other men looked at her. He’d just assumed her more experienced. Thinking back, he remembered her covering herself as she told him she couldn’t relax. “How come?”

  She shrugged. “Some people aren’t very good at sex.”

  He tilted her face until she met his gaze. “Do you hear me complaining?”

  “You’re too much of a gentleman.”

  “I promise you that the thoughts I’m having about you right now, about what I want to do to you this very second, are anything but gentlemanly.”

  Her eyes widened and he smiled. He drew her bottom lip into his mouth, traced her top lip with is tongue. “I’m not always a nice guy, and I’m definitely not always gentle. You make my blood run plenty hot, Hailey. Remember that.”

  “I—I…” she let out a whoosh of breath. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

  He chuckled. “Nothing. It’s simple truth. Maybe the man you were with was a dick.”

  “Men, Austin. I’ve been with two different men before you. When you can’t get into it with either, you have to start looking for common denominators. That would be me.”

  “Sometimes there aren’t any common denominators.”

  A small smile ghosted her mouth. “Maybe.”

  There was more to this story; he wanted it. “You’re a puzzle. Just when I think I have you figured out, I find another piece.”

  She shrugged. “I’m not that hard to figure out.”

  “For the most part, no. But then we get back to those pieces. I want them, Hailey.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you fascinate me.”

  Her brow winged up. “I’m not that fascinating.”

  He rolled on top of her. “We’ll have to disagree there.” He brushed the hair back from her face, trailed his fingers along her jaw, her neck. He couldn’t stop touching her. “Tell me your story, Hailey.” He pressed his lips to hers. “You trusted me with your body; trust me with the rest.”

  “You’re asking a lot.”

  He kissed her again, drawing out the wave of contentment that came from holding her close. “I know.” Something changed as he lay over her, looking into her honey eyes. This was no longer about wanting to know—he needed to.

  Hailey closed her eyes and, pressed her lips together, took a deep breath. “After I left Jeremy in the hospital, I went to my temporary foster house. I can’t say it was a home; it was just the place where I ended up stuck for three years. I hated it there as much as Mother Frazier hated having me.”

  He curled a strand of her hair around his finger. “She was your foster mom?”

  Hailey opened her eyes. “She was my foster parent. Loraine was my mom.”

  “Sorry.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

  “No, I am.” She sighed.

  This was painful for her, but he pushed, wanting to understand the deepest parts of her. “Why do you think Mother Frazier disliked you?”

  “I don’t think, I know. And she didn’t simply dislike me. She hated me. She made that point clear from the beginning. I was a sinning slut like the whore who made me.”

  The embers of rage burned low in his belly as he listened. Her body, relaxed moments ago, grew tense beneath him. He was about to stop her, but she continued.

  “I’d always loved school growing up. I was involved in everything. But then my parents died. After, I wasn’t allowed to stay and participate in anything, but the six-and-a-half hours I was there, I relished. I didn’t have to clean the house or take care of Mother Frazier’s biological children and her two other foster kids. I didn’t have to get down on my knees and pray for hours to ‘wash away my sins’. But most of all, I didn’t have to listen to Mother Frazier’s rants about my sinful beauty or slutty body.”

  “For Christ’s sake, Hailey.” He could hardly stand to listen to what she’d lived through. “Did you tell someone?”

  “No.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there wasn’t any point. The State would’ve done an investigation—maybe—and it would’ve made my life more of a living hell when they found nothing substantial. I was fed, clothed, and sent to school every day, where I made top marks. They weren’t going to take me away from the Fraziers’, and, she would’ve made me pay.”

  He rested his forehead against hers and clasped their fingers together. The woman he held was a miracle. How did someone who lived through that stay so sweet and kind? It would’ve been so easy to be eaten up by bitterness. “I’m so sorry, Hailey.”

  She shrugged. “There’s nothing to apologize for.”

  He took her face in his hands. “Yes, there is. I’m apologizing for the social workers who let you down, for that Frazier bitch who didn’t see you for who you are.”

  Her eyes filled. “Please, Austin.” A tear slid into her hair as she sniffed. “It doesn’t do any good to get upset about something that happened so long ago.”

  He shook his head, still seething. She pressed her palms to his cheeks, a gesture of soothing, when he should’ve been the one providing comfort.

  “It wasn’t all bad. One of my teachers—I think she must’ve known what was going on—made it so I could take accelerated classes during the summer months. When I left Redding behind, I took my high school diploma with me. If I hadn’t had Ms. Berry looking out for me, I would’ve left a dropout. I think she knew I was biding my time, waiting. When I turned eighteen, I was leaving one way or the other. I’m lucky I got to leave the way I did.”

  Hailey gave him a small smile as he stroked her shoulder.

  “I also had so many wonderful years with my parents. For the most part, I was able to ignore Mother Frazier. On the days or nights I thought I couldn’t bear it a second longer, I would remember how proud my parents had been. I would remember the person they wanted me to be. It almost always helped, but I didn’t leave the Frazier house unscathed. Her words stuck with me.”

  “Of course they did.”

  “For a long time after
I walked out their door, I was terrified I would end up a whore like my mother. On the couple occasions I did get intimate, the fear would gnaw at me. What if I liked sex too much? What if I turned out like her? I mean, what makes a person choose that lifestyle?”

  Everything made sense now—her hesitation, her inability to relax. “God, Hailey.” How could he heal years of emotional abuse? She’d been strong, but she still suffered. He pressed his lips to hers tenderly. “I love having sex. If you do it right, you should. That doesn’t make me a whore. It makes me human.”

  She frowned. “I never thought about it like that. It’s so simple and so true, but for some reason, I never thought of it that way.” The troubled look cleared from her eyes, and she smiled.

  He touched her lips again. “I want to be with you.”

  “You do? Already?”

  “Hell yeah.”

  She chuckled.

  He wanted her lost in him, to push away her painful past he’d brought into the bed they shared.

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “For giving me this. For giving me a piece of myself back. I’ve never had anything like this before, this type of trust with anyone.” She pulled his mouth to hers and took a piece of him with her.

  Trust. She trusted him, and he’d been dishonest. As Hailey wrapped her arms around him, he tried to dismiss the guilt worming its way into his conscience. He’d lied to her earlier about the man who had been watching her, bringing Project Mexico into the picture when it had nothing to do with the danger she was in. If he told her the truth now, he had no doubt she would confront her brother…that she would end up dead.

  He’d always liked Hailey, had always cared for her, but as they lay twined together, her warm body arousing his, he knew there was so much more here. This lie kept her safe. He wouldn’t lose her now.

  Jeremy sat at the bar, nursing his beer, his stomach clenched with anxiety. He set the bottle down, tempted to tip it back, to drain the clear glass of its dark brew. But he couldn’t afford to dim his wits now. Donte had given him and Mateo an order.

  His long finger traced circles in the condensation of his beverage and his foot bumped up and down against the uncomfortable stool. The dive he sat in didn’t exactly consider cushioned seating to be top priority. He glanced at his watch, his muscles clenching tighter. Fucking A, could they get on with this already?

  He’d done a lot of…interesting shit while living on the streets after he ran away from the boy’s home, but this was goddamn insane—not as bad as offing the pig, but still crazy.

  He glimpsed his watch again, met Mateo’s gaze across the dimly lit room, waiting for the nod.

  Jeremy took another pull of beer as he eyed their targets—dusky skin, long black hair, even longer legs, and definitely not over eighteen. The girls were hot. Donte was sure to be pleased—his life depended on it.

  Moments later, he looked at Mateo again, catching the barely perceptible movement of his head as the ladies headed for the door. Mateo stood, throwing a few pesos next to his empty glass. He followed through the doorway into the night.

  Jeremy took one last sip before he got to his feet, leaving an average tip by the half-empty bottle. He walked out, casually, carefully, always remembering to remain unsuspecting and unnoticed.

  He picked up his pace as he made his way to the car. Mateo turned the ignition over as Jeremy slammed his door. “What the fuck took you so long, man? Do you want me to lose them?”

  “Relax. They’re shitfaced. They aren’t going anywhere fast.”

  “Relax, homie? Relax? You gonna find us two more bitches to take back to Donte? You’re too fucking cocky. It’s gonna get you killed.”

  They drove away from the dive, surrounded by abandoned buildings and poverty. Before long, they spotted the girls, in short, tight skirts and black halter-tops, in the beam of headlights. Mateo pulled ahead of them and jerked the car to the side.

  “Let’s do this,” Jeremy said, finding this assignment far more appealing than the last. He and Mateo bumped fists and got out on either side of the car.

  The girls were already backing up, girls with identical faces. Fucking-A, they’d scored Donte twins, a detail he’d missed in the smog of cigarette smoke. “Where you going, lovely ladies?”

  “They don’t understand you, dumb ass.” Mateo shook his head. “Why do I get stuck with the newbies? Grab one before they decide to scream.”

  Jeremy advanced on the girl hurrying away on the right. “Not so fast, honey. You’re keeping me alive tonight,” he muttered.

  Crying, she clutched her sister’s wrist as they turned to run.

  Jeremy grabbed her around her small waist and slapped a hand over her mouth as Mateo did the same to the other sister.

  “Where you going?” He clutched tighter, inhaling cheap perfume, cheaper whiskey. “Where do you think you’re going? You’re coming with us.” He dragged her toward the car.

  She struggled and tried to kick her foot back, aiming for his jewels.

  He stopped and yanked her hair, making her cry louder against his hand. “Be still or die,” he said in poor Spanish.

  When he made it to the vehicle, Jeremy opened the door. The girl kicked and punched as he shoved her inside.

  The click of Mateo releasing the safety on his weapon quieted the hysterical crying. “Be quiet,” he snapped, aiming the pistol at their reluctant passengers.

  “Jeremy, cuff them together, then to the seats.”

  Jeremy found the cuffs in the center consul. He snapped wrists together, then hooked their other wrists to the handle on the door.

  “Now let’s get out of here.”

  He and Mateo took their seats, bumped knuckles. “Pretty damn smooth.”

  “Not bad. Not bad,” Mateo conceded. “Let’s get back to Donte.”

  Mateo pulled onto the street as a movement caught Jeremy’s eye.

  A bum slipped into the shadows. “Stop. We’ve got a witness.”

  “What?” Mateo slammed on the breaks. “Where?”

  “Hiding over there.” Jeremy gestured with his head.

  Mateo pushed closer to the windshield. “I don’t see nothin’, man.”

  “He’s there. Trust me.”

  “Then go take care of it.”

  Fuck. Snapping up a couple of loose girls was one thing, but this killing shit was another. “You do it. I proved I could. That’s enough.”

  Mateo cut the engine. “Your heart starting to bleed, homie? It takes more than one kill to prove yourself to the Zulas. Get your ass out there.”

  Jeremy shoved the door open, sick of taking orders. He pulled his new Zulas-issued pistol from his belt holster, released the safety with an exaggerated flourish, and stalked away from the car. Maybe if Mateo wasn’t careful, he’d find a bullet in his head.

  As Jeremy walked further into the shadows, he found the thin, elderly man crouched against a crumbling brick wall.

  “Please, no. Please, no,” the bum begged as he covered his face with trembling, arthritic hands, crying.

  Jeremy raised the gun. “Should’ve stayed out of the way. I don’t have a choice. Gotta stay alive.” He fired without thought. The man slumped forward, a mess.

  Glancing at the pistol, then at the old guy and back, he nodded—much easier this time.

  He secured the safety, put the gun away, walked to the car, and got in.

  “You do it?” Mateo asked.

  “Did you hear the shot?”

  “That don’t mean shit.”

  “Look for yourself.” He glared, insulted.

  “Just messing with you.” Mateo laughed. “Fuck, man, you’re too sensitive.”

  “Whatever. Let’s go.” Jeremy visualized yanking th
e gun free again and popping Mateo. His senior partner better watch his step.

  Mateo started the car and drove toward the shore where the small motorboat waited to take them to Donte.

  An hour later, Jeremy and Mateo were shown to an elegantly decorated office below deck. Donte stood by his well-stocked wet bar. “Gentlemen.” He inclined his head, exuding power. He poured them each a brandy. “Sit down, please.” He handed them their drinks.

  “Thank you,” Jeremy said.

  Donte sat in a leather chair. “I’ve personally…inspected the girls you’ve brought me. Your choices please me tonight, gentlemen. You’ve done good work.”

  “Thank you, Señor,” Mateo said as Jeremy nodded.

  “They are a bit…shy yet, but they will come around. All of my men work hard. They will be rewarded with fine entertainment while we are here. The ladies should suit them well. You are welcome to enjoy their company at any time.” Donte took a sip of amber liquid. “Our plans for next week are almost finalized. I will fill you in soon.” He moved to stand.

  “Um, excuse me, Señor,” Jeremy spoke up. “I’m wondering if I might ask a favor.”

  Donte raised an eyebrow, took his seat again. “What favor do you ask?”

  “I’m having trouble with someone—someone who has the potential to cause our organization big problems.”

  Donte swirled the brandy in his glass. “Oh, and who is this?”

  “His name is Austin Casey. He’s a bodyguard who’ll be working with Project Mexico. He’s already here and very nosy.” Jeremy’s eyes narrowed as he remembered Austin shoving him to the ground, telling him to treat Hailey right.

  Donte opened a drawer, pulled out a file. He set the manila folder on his desk, opened it. A slew of photos lay inside, many from the resort. “I believe many of these pictures are of your Austin Casey.”

  Jeremy swallowed as he saw picture after picture of Hailey: on horseback, jet ski, walking the beach with Austin, dancing with Austin, dining with Austin, kissing Austin. “Yes, the man in all these photos is Austin.” Jeremy continued through the photographs, slowing as he studied several close-ups of Hailey’s beautiful face. A flicker of guilt surfaced, but he quickly squashed it. As long as he played by the rules, Hailey would be safe.