Two Sides to Every Story (Love Spectrum Romance) (4 page)

“Let’s call a truce,” he said as he walked away, not waiting for an answer.

Chapter 4

Angela sat at her computer, her mind not on her work, but on her latest run-in with her nemesis. He’d asked her if they could call a truce, and she wanted to. It would be the wisest move. She was literally playing with fire and like a stubborn child she was craving more.

She kept thinking back over the allegations she’d made against Officer Remeris. She’d attempted to harden her heart against remorse, but somehow he kept poking through her reserve. A little voice in her subconscious whispered that he didn’t deserve what she’d done. Well, neither did her brother deserve what they’d done to him.

Unfortunately, Angela had not been able to uncover one single thing that would help to prove her brother’s innocence. It didn’t help that the majority of the Spanish she knew was swear words. And it definitely didn’t help that for over a week she’d holed up in her apartment not going out, even to the store. The only place she’d ventured was the prison and only once. She hadn’t wanted to run into Officer Remeris again.

In some strange way she’d found herself looking for him, enjoying their fights. With the realization of that came the knowledge that her heart was beginning to skip a beat when he stopped her. So she’d gone into hiding, determined not to venture out until she could properly sort out her rampant feelings, and make sense of them.

Angela sighed loudly. Being alone in Pilsen was getting to her, making her have crazy thoughts and even crazier dreams. Unable to sit still, she got up and scrounged her empty pantry for food. Finding none, she checked the refrigerator, which was nearly as empty. She had no choice but to venture out and buy groceries. Her only hesitation was where, to a big chain or to a neighborhood store where most of the customers spoke in Spanish and looked oddly at her.

Yeah, this entire plan needed some work. How the heck had she thought she could help her brother when she didn’t even speak the language?

Angela reached for her purse. She’d try again. What did she have to lose? She’d do the same thing she’d done for the past two months since she’d moved into the neighborhood. She’d try to strike up a conversation with someone and hope that would help.

At this rate the search would take the rest of her life and she couldn’t afford it. Not that she wouldn’t devote the rest of her life to helping free her brother, but financially she could swing six months tops of paying for two places to live. If she didn’t find Teresa in the next four months she would have to move back home and continue with an Internet search.

With that knowledge came renewed energy. Forget about groceries; she could pick something up from a local taco stand. She needed to walk the neighborhood, go into the shops, make her mission known.

She walked for several blocks down Damen, even stopping to go inside two of the ornately decorated churches, the first time to pray for her brother, the second time out of guilt, to pray for forgiveness for what she’d done to Officer Remeris.

When she came out of the church, she turned right and walked down Blue Island. Only a block into the street, a bad vibe hit her. She could swear she felt eyes watching her. She checked her watch, surprised that she’d been walking so long. Five hours. The fast approaching dusk should have been a warning.

She was aware of footsteps behind her and stifled a scream. She even resisted an urge to turn around to see who it was. The imminent sense of danger continued to mount and she couldn’t shake it.

Angela prayed quickly, silently, and felt her prayers were answered when she spotted a store several doors ahead. She ducked in and stood for a moment as a wave of hostility hit her in the face. Seven or eight men lounged around and all halted their conversation as she made her way farther into the interior of the store.

Instead of lessening, her feeling of doom increased. She smiled, hoping to dispel the feeling. She walked down first one aisle, then another, hoping to buy herself time before venturing out again, knowing that as she was doing so it was growing darker outside. And she still had to retrace her steps to return home.

Every single item in the store had Spanish labels and she had no idea what most were. She walked toward a cooler and picked up a clear bottle. At least she knew it was water. When she attempted to turn around, she felt the heat from bodies pressing in on her. “Excuse me,” she said and attempted to move.

“
Cuál uno de nosotros hacerle prefiere tu?”

“Tu tiene un hombre o es usted que mira?”

“Eres casada?”

“Tu eres tan hermosa.”

“Excuse me,” Angela said again, trying to move the men aside. When a third joined them, the tension mounted and so did her fear. She wanted to scream out for the owner. She searched her brain for Spanish but nothing came to mind. Well, nothing but swear words, and now with a fourth man surrounding her, she didn’t think it was the wisest thing to tell the men to go to hell.

“Move,” she said, and pushed at the man closest to her. “Move,” she said again, louder this time, determined not to be pushed around by a bunch of macho bullies.

She gripped the bottle of water tighter in her hand. If she had to, she would clunk them all over the head. She wasn’t going down easy. She wasn’t going to be a victim. Just as she raised her arm to make her first swing, green eyes caught hers.

Officer Remeris was staring at her and he continued staring for a long moment before he spoke in rapid Spanish to the men surrounding her and they moved, making a path for him.

She trembled as he came nearer, her fear of him a thousand times more potent that the fear of the four men who’d surrounded her. Them she could fight; this man standing in front of her…She didn’t know if she possessed the weapons necessary to win.

He leaned into her and whispered in her ear, “You’d better go along with me; they want to slit your throat.”

She looked at the leering men. “Are you sure?” she questioned. That was not the feeling she’d gotten from the men. From the looks on their faces and the kissing noises one made, she’d thought they were more interested in sex.

“I’m sure. Just play along. I told them you’re my woman, you’re off limits. I’d advise you to go with it.”

“You’re the cop,” she said quietly. “Do something.”

“I’m trying,” Raphael answered. “I’m trying to save both of our lives. I can’t fight all of them. This is the best way to handle this, trust me,” he said and lowered his head toward her, his breath searing her neck, his lips so close. He kissed the crevice of her neck, then lowered his hand to her waist, took the bottle of water from her hand and threw a dollar on the counter.

He allowed his hand to slide even lower and he patted her rear, pulling her closer as she attempted to pull away. The men laughed at them as they walked out of the store.

Raphael smiled inwardly, knowing he was taking the joke a little too far. He didn’t care. Angela Reed deserved it. Why should he tell her what he knew to be true, that the men had no intentions of hurting her? They’d only made a stupid macho bet with each other as to who could woo her. The only scary thing had been that they’d all barged in around her at the same time, and they’d frightened her.

Raphael turned deliberately to look over his shoulder and turned back quickly. “Don’t look,” he ordered Angela. He should have felt bad for scaring her, but he didn’t. After everything she’d done to him, she deserved some payback. No, he wouldn’t tell her that the men had only complimented her, saying she was beautiful and asking if she was married. Besides, his cousin Carlos owned the store. He would never stand by and let anything happen to a woman in his presence, regardless of the odds.

“You can remove your hand from my butt now,” Angela said.

“Not yet, they’re still behind us.”

Angela heard nothing, but wondered if the nearness of Rafe Remeris, his hand sending heat spiraling through her, might have something to do with her inability to adequately sense what was happening.

If only she’d sensed the danger of whoever was following her before she’d walked down Blue Island, before she’d entered the store. She wished now she’d turned and confronted the person.

She cringed, wishing she’d done things differently. She didn’t like being afraid and she certainly didn’t like feeling safe because the cop with the green eyes had his arm around her.

“Why were you in the store?” Suddenly something about the timing made her ask the question. “Were you following me?”

Yes, he had been following her, but not intentionally. He’d noticed her as he was out walking. And it was only when he saw she was aware of him and had become frightened that he’d decided to scare her.
She deserved it
, he’d thought,
the arrogant little witch
. She deserved it for messing up his life.

“Were you following me?” she asked again.

“I live in the neighborhood,” Raphael answered honestly, avoiding her other question. “You should be grateful that I came along, or you’d be just another statistic on the morning news.”

“Pilsen is mostly a Mexican neighborhood. Why do you live here?”

“One, because I want to. And two, because I work the area. I like it.” He smiled slightly. “Besides, Pilsen is changing. You’ll find a few of all races living here, even Puerto Ricans. Look at you. You’re Black and you live in the area. Right? I mean, since you’re out walking and not speeding, I’m assuming you live nearby.” He dropped his hand a tiny bit lower, resisting the urge to caress her behind.

“Where are you walking me?” she asked at last.

“Home.”

“How do you know where I live?”

“I don’t. But I did assume if we were going in the wrong direction you would tell me.”

Angela twisted her mouth to the side as she tried to determine if he was telling her the truth.

“Where do you live?” he asked. “I assume for whatever reason it’s not in Naperville, not now anyway.”

“No, it’s not,” she answered, wanting to remove his hand, yet at the same time wanting to press in closer to his heat. Wanting him gone, yet wanting him.

Her increasing awareness of him strengthened her resolve and she muttered, “You don’t have to walk me home.”

“I do,” he answered. “It’s my job to serve and protect.”

“Is that why you still have your hand on my behind?”

“That’s the only reason,” he answered. “As soon as it’s safe to do so I’ll remove it,” he promised.

He wouldn’t admit to her that the feel of her body moving beneath his palm was doing things to him, robbing him of his good sense. He’d been ordered to stay away from her, to leave her alone and now—now he was walking down the street with his arm around her. And he had his palm firmly glued to her rear.

She had only to look down and she would know he was not keeping his hand on her out of a sense of duty. He was harder than he’d ever been in his life and he was burning from the contact.

His
madrina
should have warned him of his body’s reaction to the woman who would stop his heart. Then maybe he would’ve been better prepared. Now he was helpless against what was happening. He thought of what the commander had said. It wasn’t about getting laid, though making love to the woman walking alongside him would be a very pleasant diversion. It was about finding answers. It was hard to just put out of his mind the possibility that the woman might truly be his soul mate, that his
madrina
might have been right.

They came to Damen and Twenty-fourth. Raphael stopped and looked down the street toward the police station. “Do you need to stop in there to file any paperwork?”

Angela looked toward the police station. “I don’t have any reason to file any complaints tonight.”

“You didn’t have any reasons before, but that didn’t stop you.” he murmured low, knowing that she’d heard him, knowing that he was baiting her.

“Just move your hand before I actually have a reason,” Angela said, trying not to smile at him. “I don’t think anyone is following us, at least not anymore.”

She didn’t bother adding, “if ever,” but she was beginning to smell a rat. In fact, she knew she smelled a rat. It was just a little too convenient that he’d happened to be there to rush to her rescue.

And even though she didn’t speak Spanish, she doubted that the men had meant to kill her; rape her maybe, but not kill her. But admitting that meant she had to admit that she had not made him move his hand from her rear because she liked the feel of his hand on her, of him being close to her. She didn’t want to begin to contemplate what that would mean.

“I’m sorry, I forgot it was there.”

For the next few minutes they walked in silence that was broken only when they reached Angela’s apartment. Officer Remeris had done his duty. He’d walked her home.

“No need to go inside,” she said, turning to him.

“I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t check your apartment. To serve and protect,” he repeated.

Raphael knew he was crossing the line. Damn it, he should turn and walk away, forget about the crazy way this woman made him feel.

She’d written a ton of complaints already and he knew he was going to give her reason to write more. He was going to give her the proof. And when she complained he would admit to it.

She was leaning against the frame of the door, watching him, her eyes blazing with heat. For a long moment they stared intently at each other. He licked his lips as the words
sexual
assault
thundered through his head. He’d take his chances. He had to see if her lips affected him also.

Raphael lowered his lips to hers. From just a scant millimeter away, he could feel her heat. Their lips touched and he could feel the electrical surge. He lowered his eyes. If she wasn’t giving permission he didn’t want to know it. He had to taste her. So he did.

* * *

Angela sucked in her breath, feeling the tremble of awareness claim her body. She’d known from the moment he stopped talking that he was going to kiss her. In actuality she’d somehow known it when he’d taken it upon himself to be her hero and step between her and the men surrounding her.

She’d definitely known it when he’d firmly clasped his hand about her waist and walked her home. Neither of them had talked much, not after he’d asked for her address and she’d given it. And now as she stood there waiting, she knew she wanted it.