Deliverance (The Maverick Defense #1) (28 page)

“What’s been happening?” Joy asked, almost fearful. “Has he been …”

Sherri gave her a sad smile. “He’s come down hard on everyone. All the girls, anyone he thinks would reach out to you.”

“And you?”

Sherri gave her a harsh laugh. “Don’t you worry about me. He knows better than to piss me off,” she assured Joy, but I caught the small look she cast at Troy and I had a feeling even Sherri wasn’t beyond feeling Donnie’s wrath. “He’s watching me like a hawk, but I’ll always find a way.” She patted Joy’s hand and reached down for her mug of coffee.

“He’s taken a shine to Ari,” Sherri says, with a scowl. I watched Joy for any reaction but none came.

“Ari?” Lex asked.

“Arianna, the new girl.”

“The new girl, she’s so … young.” Pain twisted over Joy’s face and Sherri winced. “I know. I couldn’t come up with any more excuses why she couldn’t work at Shakers, and well … you know what Don is like. You leaving and telling Stu you wouldn’t be back bruised his ego. Ari is an easy target, a new toy.”

“But what will he do to her?”

“I don’t know, Joy. I’m trying my best here,” she said, her voice full of emotion, and she looked exhausted. Trying to protect Joy, and now, this new girl, was taking its toll on Sherri, yet all I could think was, at least, it’s not Joy anymore. Which made me a heartless bastard.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you he’s out of town but to still be careful. I’ll come and visit as much as I can, but it’s going to be harder from now on.”

“Come to the back door next time.” I piped up for the first time since she started talking. “That way you’re not out in the open standing on the front step.” Sherri looked around Joy to meet my gaze and nodded, relief or gratitude apparent in her steely eyes.

“We had better go, Sherri.” Troy moved from his spot against the wall and set his cup down on the coffee table. “Thanks for the coffee, Mikey.” He reached out for Sherri and she let him pull her up to standing. I got the feeling she didn’t like to show any kind of weakness, but maybe with Troy, she let him share some of the worries.

“You can go out the back door if you want,” Lex offered, and Troy nodded. Sherri leaned down to give Joy one last hug.

“Take care. Don’t do anything foolish and I’ll come back when I can,” she promised, to which Joy nodded.

I led the way to the kitchen and opened the door, checking outside before I stood aside to let them past.

“Take care of her, Dawson.” Her knowing eyes pleaded with me, and her hand gripped my forearm.

“I will,” I assured her, laying my palm on top of her hand. “Thanks for bringing her, Troy.”

“No problem,” his deep voice rumbled, his eyes alert as he took Sherri’s hand and led her out of the house.

I closed and bolted the door behind them; my forehead rested against the door for a minute before I took a deep breath and headed back to join the others.

“N
one of it makes sense.” I squeezed my temples between my forefinger and thumb. “He takes Troy everywhere. He doesn’t go anywhere without him.”

Since Sherri left, Mikey and I had lingered in the living room pretending to watch TV while Lex and Dawson talked in hushed voices in the kitchen. Eventually, they joined us and we all sat in silence. Mikey was first to throw in the towel, and Lex followed him up not long after. I doubted the nervous energy zipping through me would let me sleep. I needed something to clear my head. It didn’t help that every time someone mentioned Donnie or the Mexicans, my mind instantly went to a place I so desperately wanted to forget. Dawson insisted we go to bed, but I’d spent the last ten minutes pacing the room.

Dawson drew me to him; brushing the hair from one shoulder, he ducked his head and pressed his lips to the soft skin of my neck. “Don’t overthink this. Look at it as a reprieve.”

I turned myself in his arms, forcing him back, and stared up at him. “A reprieve? Sherri just came to tell us that Donnie has gone nuclear, you have information that suggests he’s meeting with a cartel, a Mexican cartel, Dawson, and you’re telling me to calm down?”

Hurt flashed in Dawson’s eyes, but I couldn’t concentrate long enough to care. My blood boiled with want.

Anger.

Hunger.

Shame.

“I didn’t say that. I just mean in moments of chaos, enjoy the silence.”

The worry lines on my forehead deepened, and I felt like I might combust at any moment. Taking a deep breath, I managed to compose myself enough to say, “Is that code for something?”

“You’d be surprised how many times I’ve reminded myself to enjoy the silence. I’ve seen things, Joy, things no man should ever see. Hell, I’ve done things …” Dawson paused, a haunted look in his eyes. “But sometimes, in the heat of the battle, the eye of the storm, you just have to stop and enjoy the silence.”

His words hit me like a freight train and my heart constricted. I still couldn’t digest Dawson being in harm’s way for a living. It was his job to walk into war zones, and I was supposed to just accept that? Not that I had any claim on him; we might have declared our feelings for one another, but we still had a lot to talk about. Still, I couldn’t help the surge of happiness flowing through me at the realization that right now Dawson was here, with me. I ran my hands up his arms and looped them around his neck. “And what?” I stood on my tiptoes lining up my mouth with his. “This is us enjoying the silence?”

“I have an idea.” A grin broke over his serious face, and I could almost see the wheels turning.

“I’m not sure I trust that look,” I said in a playful tone feeling more in control. It was Dawson; he brought me back—grounded me. I knew that look on his face, and it never ended well.

“You can trust me.” Dawson pressed his mouth to my forehead and held me. “Always. But first, we sleep. You look exhausted.”

I knew what he really meant—I looked like shit. Conceding, I nodded and let him lead me to the side of the bed. The mattress dipped underneath me as I tucked myself under the comforter. Dawson went around to the other side, and after shedding his jeans and t-shirt, he joined me. I watched in awe at the way his bronze skin stretched over taut muscle. Muscles that didn’t exist when we were last together. Need pulsed through me, replacing some of the hunger pitted in my stomach.

Dawson turned off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness. I could feel him next to me—his steady breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against the sheets. Everything was different now. Each conversation, look, even the few kisses we had shared were leading toward a crossroads. We’d both known it, but I don’t think either of us had known which path we’d end up on. And now, here we were—the path was decided.

“I expected to want to kill him.” Dawson’s voice cut through the void. “I was prepared to want to beat him so far into oblivion that he would never touch you again, but when I saw him sitting behind his desk with a smug grin on face, I felt something I didn’t expect …”

My body tensed. Waiting.

Dawson swallowed hard and whispered, “Jealousy.”

“Dawson, I’m-”

“No, let me finish. When I came back, all I could think about was seeing you again. Even though I knew you were long gone and I was coming back for Mom’s funeral, all I could see was you. And then I walked into Hank’s and there you were. It was as if I’d walked into a dream. But you were different, and I saw it right away. And then I saw you at that club about to get on that stage and dance, and I knew I’d returned to some fucked-up parallel universe because the Joy I knew,
my
Joy, would never be in a place like that. It killed me.”

His breath came harsh, and I wanted to reach out and touch him. Make him stop. But maybe we needed this, maybe tonight we laid all our truths bare.

Maybe.

“But nothing hurt more than seeing you go to him. I swear it felt like you’d plunged your hand into my chest and ripped out my heart. So when I went to him, I went to hurt him, maybe even kill him. And then he started goading me, letting me know what he’d had … what he’d done and, for as much as I wanted to hurt him, all I kept thinking was ‘it should be me.’ I should be the one taking her home, the one kissing her, inside her. I can’t change the past, Joy. I can’t take away the pain or the hurt or the things you’ve had to do to get by, but I promise you I will never ever let him hurt you again. We’ll get through this.
I’ll
get us through this. I know you want to carry on with life, but we can’t do that right now. Just trust me. You have to trust me.”

Dawson reached out to me and pulled me to him, his lips finding mine. It started out slow and measured as he poured his promise and regrets into me. Each brush of his mouth over mine an acknowledgment of our history. But the kiss grew desperate, and I gasped into his mouth shocked by his sudden urgency. Holding me close, Dawson’s tongue swirled with mine, frantic, angry, desperate, and I pressed against him needing to be closer. Unlike the other times we’d kissed, this felt different. Familiar and strange all at the same time. I knew every curve and plane of Dawson’s body, his face, mouth. The frustration was still there crackling between us, but there was something else—an apology to our past, the time we’d lost, and a promise to our future, the one I so desperately wanted with the infuriatingly stubborn man kissing me. Our legs tangled and my whole body ignited with need for him. Heat flooded me. But Dawson didn’t budge. He held me so close that I couldn’t skate my hands down his chest as I longed to.

“All I can think about are his hands touching you,” he mumbled against my mouth

His words were like a knife to the stomach. Was I tainted to him now? Would he ever be able to look at me without picturing Donnie—and me at Donnie’s mercy? The pain left me breathless, and I tried to break free from his lips. I needed to catch my breath, to make him see that I never willingly gave myself Donnie, not after that first time.

Dawson’s eyes were clamped shut as his ragged breaths filled the space between us. The air around us charged with desire and anger and frustration.

“How will we ever get past this?” The words almost choked me. Dawson had only just walked back into my life. He loved me; I saw it in his eyes, and I felt it in his kiss. But a small part of him couldn’t accept what I’d done—who I was now.

Donnie will always own you. You can never escape.

I rolled out of Dawson’s arms and turned away from him. We were so close, but so far apart; it felt like we might never meet in the middle. Seconds ticked by, as we lay there in the dark unmoving. Dawson didn’t speak, but I knew he wasn’t sleeping. He was too still. Tense. I wanted to say something—anything—to ease his mood. But what was there to say? Sorry I gave myself to Donnie. It was your fault you left me and forced me into his arms.
It is what it is.
Did I want Dawson to leave me behind in Chancing? No. But we couldn’t change the past, so it was no use trying to right those wrongs.

“Daws-”

“Not tonight. Sleep, Joy. Everything will look better in the morning. It always does.” Dawson rolled his body flush behind mine and draped his arm over my waist.

No. We couldn’t change the past.

This was who we were now.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” I slipped off my shoes and placed my feet up on the dash of Mikey’s truck. Dawson really wasn’t joking when he’d said he had an idea.