Nobody's Hero (33 page)

“So, what do you want to see?”

“Your school.”

They walked out of the house and down the
steps, then around to the street. “Well, then, you get a two-fer,
because my school and my church are right beside each other. I went
to San Miguel’s until…sophomore year of high school.”

“Why didn’t you finish?”

“My fist had a run-in with Julio’s teeth
after he beat up my sister. It wasn’t the first time he’d beaten
her—but I’d hoped it would be the last. Unfortunately, he didn’t
get many more years in prison than the two I got in juvie.”

Karla reached out to put her arm around him
in support and felt something hard in the small of his back.
“You’re carrying a gun?”

He grinned down at her. “
Chiquita
, a
man is always carrying a gun. But today, I’m also carrying my
weapon. This isn’t the safest neighborhood in Southern
California.”

Karla blushed as she remembered Ian telling
her about the distinction military men made between their gun—or
penis—and their weapon. Wanting to change the subject, she looked
around at the residential neighborhood, but thought it looked like
any other working-class neighborhood. Why did he expect
trouble?

“It looks to me like a nice enough place to
grow up.”

“Yeah, but some kids here have to grow up too
fast.”

Her thoughts went to Teresa and what had
happened to her. Of course, those things happened in wealthy homes,
too. They walked a few blocks before she saw the bell tower of the
brick church. Next to it was the school building, also brick, and a
blacktopped playground surrounded by a chain-link fence. Teachers
stood talking in a small group and children laughed and screamed as
they played together. Karla remembered her own Lincoln Park grade
school and the grassy playground with swings and monkey bars where
she and her girlfriends had played. This one had similar equipment,
but, oh, it must be hell for tender knees and bottoms to land on
that hard surface. These kids had to get tough, fast.

As they continued on, she saw a gate with a
padlock leading to the school yard.

“They have to keep the school locked at all
times, to protect the kids and the property."

Damián didn't seem bothered by that, but
Karla thought it made the school seem more like a prison.

"Come on. We can probably get inside the
church this time of day. Do you want to see it?” She looked down at
her jeans and t-shirt. “Don’t worry. It’s very casual here. They
don’t exclude anyone.”

Karla smiled. “Sure. I’d love to.”

He took her hand and led her up the front
steps of the church. Karla hadn’t been to church much and hadn’t
really been in a lot of Catholic churches. Okay, she’d been in a
total of one, when she went to a childhood friend’s wedding. Inside
the church, the coolness contrasted with the heat of the southern
California sun. Damián went to a font with water and a sponge, and
dipped his middle finger in it and made the sign of the cross. She
followed suit, hoping it wasn’t against the rules for a
non-Catholic to bless herself, too.

They were about halfway down the aisle when
she heard a voice from above. She stifled a giggle. Well, not
that
kind of voice. A person’s.

“Let’s take
On Eagle’s Wings
from the
top.” The music of an organ filled the church and she realized they
were having choir practice.

And He will raise you up on eagle’s
wings,

Bear you on the breath of dawn,

Make you to shine like the sun,

And hold you in the palm of His Hand.

Karla found the words comforting as she and
Damián continued to make their way forward to a small altar in a
side alcove where row upon row of red-glass candle-holders held
votive candles, about half of them lit.

“I want to light a candle for Teresa’s
healing.”

Karla felt her eyes prick with tears at the
touching gesture coming from a man who had so many hard edges. She
decided she would light one for Rosa, to remove her feelings of
guilt and shame. Somehow, this didn’t seem far removed from the
ritual she and Cassie engaged in each year as they put the past
behind them and moved on, they hoped to better things.

Damián dropped a folded-up bill in the
collection box. Karla wished she’d brought her purse, but hadn’t
thought of it. The choir director intruded on their thoughts as
each of them stared at the flickering candle they had lit.

“That sounded angelic. I think we’ve got it.
See you at Mass Saturday evening.”

She took Damián’s hand in hers and squeezed
it, then they made their way to the back of the church where they
ran into members of the choir coming down from the loft. She felt
Damián’s hand grip hers more tightly and looked up to see the
counselor from the clinic staring at him, then at their interlocked
hands. Beside her was a beautiful little brown-skinned,
black-haired girl of about seven or eight. The counselor took the
girl’s arm and pulled her behind her, seemingly trying to shield
her from Damián’s view. How odd. Damián wouldn’t hurt anyone—well,
no one who didn’t want to be hurt. Of course, the first time she’d
seen him, Karla had pegged him as a sadist, so maybe the woman was
judging him on his appearance. His ponytail, goatee, and the tail
of the dragon tat on his left bicep peeking out from his t-shirt
did give him a hard-edged look.

A man dressed in black with a white reversed
collar, obviously a priest, came down the stairs and into the
vestibule. “Damián, my man! Good to see you home again!”

“Hello, Father Martine.”

The priest took both of his hands in a warm
handshake. He looked to be in his early thirties with a swarthy
complexion that looked Mediterranean. His eyes were brown and warm.
Welcoming and sincere.

“I was just showing my friend where I grew
up.” Damián formally introduced Karla to the priest and to the
counselor, Savi Baker.

“Ah, I see you two know each other,” Father
Martine said of Damián and Savi. “Savi’s been a wonderful addition
to the parish.”

The counselor’s face turned red and she
looked down at the terra-cotta tiled floor. “Excuse me, Father, but
we need to be going. Mari needs her lunch.”

Damián watched as Savi took the little girl’s
hand and started toward the doors. He wasn’t sure why, maybe
because Savi was so determined to shield the little girl from him,
but he needed to meet Savi’s daughter. As they passed by him, he
knelt on one knee and addressed the little girl. “Hi, I’m Damián.
What’s your name?”

“Marisol.”

Marisol
—surf and sun. His mind went
back to the cave at Thousand Steps Beach with Savannah. Best not to
remember that day. “What grade are you in?”

“Third.”

She was older than he’d expected from the
photos in Savi’s office. He looked at her face again and thought
how much she looked like Teresa.

Damián stood and met Savi’s gaze only briefly
before she grabbed her daughter’s hand. “Mari, we need to go.
Now.”

Savi grabbed the girl’s hand and was gone
through the door in a flash. Damián stared after them until the
door slammed in his face, then turned to face Karla and Father
Martine again.

“So, how long has Savi been coming here,
Father?”

“She came to us in her late teens. Very
troubled home life.”

Was he kidding? Didn’t he know where she
lived? Maybe she hadn’t been honest with them when she’d come
here.

“But she really turned her life around. She’s
certainly a wonderful mother and caring counselor. Everyone loves
her.”

I could have loved her—once upon a time.

She certainly was a little on the
over-protective side, but these days you couldn’t be too careful.
Hell, when a child was attacked by her own father…

“How’s Teresa?” Father Martine asked.
Uncanny, as if he’d read Damián’s thoughts.

Damián shrugged. “It’s going to take some
time.”

“I’ll stop by in a few days to see her. I
hope you will come to Mass this weekend. You, too, Ms. Paxton.”

“Karla, please. And, thank you for the
invitation.”

“Please, stay as long as you wish, but I have
a meeting with the bishop to prepare for.” He started toward the
sanctuary.

Karla called after him, “It was nice to meet
you, Father Martine.” Damián said his farewells, then took Karla’s
hand and they left the church. He suddenly had no desire to
continue touring the old neighborhood. Things had changed too much.
He needed to take a ride up the Pacific Coast Highway.

“I’ll be glad when Adam gets here with my
bike.”

At Karla’s gasp, he could have kicked himself
in the ass. Adam had told him not to mention it to Karla, because
she’d just worry. If she could get any whiter, he didn’t know how.
Man, he sure had screwed the pooch this time. Adam was going to
have his dick on a platter if he didn’t calm Karla down.

She stopped on the sidewalk and turned toward
him. “What do you mean?”

* * *

Karla waited for Damián to face her, dread
knotting her stomach. “I’m sorry, Karla. He left late yesterday
afternoon. I expect him here tonight or early tomorrow if he drives
straight through.”

Terror rampaged through her. Straight
through? “How can he get here that soon? It’s too far to drive
straight through.”

“He spent 25 years in the Marines. He’s used
to long hours without sleep.”

“He’s been retired for years!” Karla heard
the panic in her voice, but didn’t care. “He’s not conditioned for
that kind of endurance now.” And he’d just flown home to Denver
from Minneapolis sometime yesterday. He must have set out
immediately, without any sleep.
Oh, God.
She was going to be
sick.

Damián took her upper arms in his hands and
shook her once to get her attention. “Karla, I want you to
breathe.” She tried to, but couldn’t inhale because of the boulder
resting on her chest. “Now, Karla.”

“He’ll die on that thing.” Her words came out
in a whispery gasp as looked into Damián’s eyes, desperate for
hope.

“He’ll be fine. Look, we’ll call him on the
cell phone when we get back to the house. You’ll see.”

Karla felt the blood drain from her face, but
managed to drag in a couple breaths. “I don’t want him answering a
cell phone while he’s riding that thing!” Wait. She knew Adam
didn’t answer his cell phone while he was driving and didn’t let
her either.

“Karla, I’ll leave him a message right now.
Don’t worry.” He pulled the phone out of his pocket and hit the
speed dial. “Dad, it’s me. Give me a call when you can and let
us…me know where you are.”

He disconnected the phone and wrapped his
arms around Karla to give her a hug. “Please don’t worry. Adam’s
going to be okay. He won’t take any chances.”

“But what about other drivers?”

Later that night, Karla checked her cell
phone again. No missed calls. No text messages. She glanced over at
Damián who shook his head. It had been six hours since Damián had
called. She’d sent a text message, as well. He should have gotten
back to them by now. Surely he’d taken a break in six hours.

Something had happened. Visions of Adam’s
body lying mangled on the side of the road brought bile rising into
the back of her throat. She jumped up from the kitchen chair and
ran down the hallway to the bathroom, barely making it to the
toilet before she lost the contents of her stomach.

Damián followed her into the bathroom as she
flushed the toilet. He ran water in the sink and handed her a cold
washcloth. “Here,
querida
.”

She leaned against the wall, took the cloth
in her shaking hand, and wiped her mouth, then turned it over and
pressed it against her burning forehead and eyes, hoping he didn’t
see her tears. She hated showing weakness.

“Look, I’m sure there’s a simple explanation.
Maybe his phone battery died.”

More tears filled her eyes. “I just have this
bad feeling.” Damián held out his arms and she walked into them.
“Oh, God. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to
him.”

“I know,
bebé
. But I’m sure he’s going
to be fine. You just have to have faith. Adam’s invincible.”

“I used to think that about my brother, too.
And look how close Adam came to dying on that mountain before you
killed the cougar.”

“I wish I’d kept my big mouth shut about the
damned bike. He’s gonna ream me out for sure.”

“No, it’s not your fault. He should have been
honest with me himself. He knew how I felt about motorcycles.” Yet
he’d ridden the bike out here anyway.

“You need to get your mind off this. Why
don’t you get cleaned up and we’ll take everyone down to San Diego
for some fun tonight. I think we all can use a break right about
now.”

“But what if Adam comes and we’re gone?”

“We can leave a note. I’ll bring you home
right away if he gets here tonight.” He let her go. “I’ll go get
everyone else ready.”

He left her there to brush her teeth, wash
her face, and regroup. Her hands shook and she saw the dark rings
under her eyes. God, if Adam did get here, he’d take one look at
her and run all the way back to Colorado.

Karla didn’t want to go out and wasn’t quite
sure what Damián had in mind, but figured it would be something
active, with Teresa and her little brother, José. She opted for a
t-shirt and jeans. She’d just walked back into the kitchen where
Damián’s family had gathered when she heard the rumble of a
motorcycle. Not just any motorcycle, either. Definitely a hog.

She glanced at Damián, her heart climbing
into her throat. He smiled. “That’s my baby. I’d know her growl
anywhere.”

Karla ran out the back door, down the steps,
and around the side of the house. At the curb sat Adam astride the
beastly machine, removing a dusty black helmet, and wearing a black
leather bomber jacket and black leather pants, equally dusty. She
had to admit, he looked like every bad-boy stereotype she’d ever
seen in the movies—only he was real. Layers of dirt-mixed sweat
caked around his tired-looking eyes. He was the best thing she’d
seen in a long time.