Collateral 2 (Debt Collection) Page 4

  At the sound of sirens, Ben caught Devil’s gaze. The other man grimaced. For a brief moment, Ben wondered if they could climb over the truck and escape without being noticed. He didn’t want to deal with the police, especially not if that truck was the same one from the robbery, but there was no way out. More importantly, he couldn’t abandon the old lady who now gripped his hand for support.

  “Please don’t leave me,” she pleaded, her voice soft and wavering. “Please.”

  “You’re going to be okay,” Ben promised her and added another layer of napkins to the makeshift trauma dressing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  As police poured into the destroyed restaurant, Ben spotted none other than Detective Eric Santos at one of the broken windows. Grimacing, he turned his attention back to the bleeding leg and grabbed another handful of napkins. He and Eric had history that went back years and none of it was particularly good.

  What the hell else could go wrong today?

  Chapter Five

  “I’m sure he’s on his way,” I said, glancing at my phone for the hundredth time. Across the kitchen, Nina frowned at the stove where the incredible dinner she had made waited. Pedro sat in his usual chair at the cozy breakfast nook where we ate most of our meals together. He nursed his bottle of beer and kept his gaze glued to his Kindle to avoid the tension.

  “You said that twenty minutes ago,” Nina reminded me.

  “Five more minutes,” I pleaded. “Please?”

  Nina sighed but nodded. “Five minutes.”

  I wasn’t annoyed with Ben’s tardiness. I was worried. He always updated me with texts, and I hadn’t heard from him since before lunch. My mind went back to the robbery, and I couldn’t stop imagining all the horrible things that might have happened to him while chasing down the money.

  The deep rumble of a motorcycle eased my worries. I glanced at Nina, but her lips were pursed with discontent. It was clear she would have been happier if he hadn’t come. She would have had another reason to dislike him and more ammunition for pushing me to reconsider our relationship.

  When Ben walked into the kitchen a short time later, my jaw dropped. His jeans and grey work shirt were stained with blood and dirt and some kind of white dust. He had scratches on his face and neck and one of his hands was bandaged. He looked so tired and defeated.

  “Ben!” I rushed to him, crossing the distance between us in a few quick strides. “What happened?”

  “There was an accident,” he said, his voice low and tired.

  “At the shop?”

  “No, at Phan’s.”

  “The noodle shop?” He had taken me there a few times because he swore it was the best pho in town. “What kind of accident?”

  “A truck drove through the front windows. Devil and I were lucky.”

  “Lucky?” I looked him over again. “Ben, you have blood all over you.”

  “It’s not mine.” He glanced down as if seeing it for the first time. “It’s Mrs. Võ’s.”

  “Who is Mrs. Võ?”

  “She’s the old lady who was sitting behind us. She got hit with a piece of glass and a table.”

  Touching his cheek, I asked, “Is she okay?”

  He nodded. “I went with her to the hospital. Her daughter came to sit with her before I left. She needed stitches, but she’ll be fine.”

  “That’s good,” I remarked, not knowing what else to say.

  “Ben, mijo,” Nina interjected gently, “you should go take a shower. You’ll feel better once you’re clean.” Her gaze fell to his bloody clothes. “If you leave those in the laundry room, I can treat them.”

  Ben shook his head. “I’ll throw them away.”

  “If you’re sure…?”

  “I’m sure.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “I’ll hurry. You guys should go ahead and eat.”

  “We’ll wait,” Nina said.

  Surprised by her sudden turnaround, I shot her a questioning look as Ben disappeared upstairs.

  “What?” she asked, almost defensively.

  “Uh, you’re being nice to him?”

  “I’m always nice to him,” she replied, her feathers obviously ruffled.

  I looked at Pedro who just shrugged. “Really?”

  “I’m always nice to everyone who comes into this house,” she insisted. Busying herself with dishing out food onto plates, she admitted, “I like Ben. He’s a good boy, but he’s not the right boy for you.”

  “None of the guys I’ve dated since high school have been the right boy for me,” I countered. “You’ve seriously hated all of them.”

  “I didn’t hate them. I just have higher standards for you.”

  “We want you to be happy but also safe,” Pedro finally said. “You’re like a child to us. We don’t want one of our kids getting tangled up with the Albanian mafia.”

  “I don’t want it either.” That was the truth. I didn’t want anything to do with Ben’s criminal ties. “But Ben is who he is. He was born into that family. It’s a complicated issue.”

  “Complicated, yes,” Pedro agreed, “but dangerous.”

  I wanted to point out that their own nephews were just as dangerous as Ben, maybe even more if the stories about Diego were true. Even so, I kept my mouth shut. I didn’t want to turn this into a tit-for-tat argument. I loved Nina and Pedro and wanted them in my life, even if they were a bit overprotective. I was a lucky girl to have two people who loved me so much.

  We let the discussion drop. I joined Nina at the stove and ferried plates to the table. Ben returned, freshly showered and changed into a pair of black gym shorts and a Markovic MMA t-shirt. As soon as we sat down, Nina started a prayer. I glanced at Ben who gave me a soft look before taking my hand under the table and giving it a squeeze. As far as I knew, he wasn’t particularly religious, but he respectfully bowed his head until Nina was finished.

  “Where do you go to church?” Nina asked even before we had taken a single bite.

  I groaned inwardly, but Ben answered without hesitation. “I don’t.”

  “What? Never?”

  He shook his head. “Never.”

  “What did you do on Easter? Or Christmas?”

  He shrugged and tucked into his meal. “What everyone does, but without the church part.”

  She looked at me as if to say, “See what I mean?”

  “I’m not opposed to going,” he added, “if Aston wants me to go with her.”

  She perked up at that. “Aston, hasn’t been to Mass in a few weeks.” She didn’t have to say I hadn’t gone because I had been spending my weekends with him. “You should both come with me next week.”

  I shot him a perturbed look and fought the urge to kick him under the table. He smiled back in the most infuriatingly handsome way.

  “Was your mother Christian?” Nina asked, still fishing for information.

  “No. She wasn’t religious.”

  “And your father?”

  “He was Muslim, I think.”

  Nina looked like she was about to choke on her mouthful of sopa. She swallowed slowly and took a drink of her iced tea. Eventually, she asked, “Were you close to your dad?”

  “No,” he answered shortly. “We weren’t close.”

  She seemed to understand that she had touched on a sore spot. Before she could start asking more invasive questions, Pedro changed the conversation. “Ben, how handy are you with smaller engines? I couldn’t get the mower to start this morning. I’m having problems with my trimmer, too.”

  “Gas powered?”

  Pedro nodded, and they started talking about engine repair and tools. Relieved to have the focus off Ben’s family and religion, I enjoyed the rest of my dinner. Conversation flowed easily after that and centered mostly on their upcoming trip to San Antonio to visit their grandkids.

  “I’ll take a look at the mower and trimmer while you’re gone,” Ben promised as helped clear the table.

  My first instinct was to recommend buying new equipment,
but Ben and Pedro shared the idea that all things could be fixed. They probably wouldn’t ever admit to being environmentalists, but they sure had green thoughts about reusing and upcycling.

  “What time are you leaving?” I asked Nina while helping her store leftovers in the refrigerator.

  “Seven,” she said, stowing a container on a shelf. “We’re meeting the kids for brunch.”

  After hugging them and wishing them well on their trip, Ben and I turned off the lights and headed upstairs. He dropped down on my bed and fell onto his back, covering his tired eyes with his forearm. Even though I had a thousand questions about his day, I decided to give him a little space to decompress.

  Closed off in the bathroom, I stripped down and turned on the shower. I put my hair up in a bun so I would have good second-day hair for the wedding tomorrow. Ben liked to tease me about my shampoo schedule, but he didn’t understand the struggle.

  I took a short shower and stepped out to find Ben brushing his teeth at the right sink on the double vanity, the one he had claimed for himself. More and more of his things were migrating to my place. First, it had been a handful of toiletries and an extra shirt and jeans. Now, he had full sets of clothing hanging in my closet and a drawer and shelf I’d set aside for his things.

  It wasn’t as if space was a problem. Lately, I had been feeling as if there was too much space. The house had always been too big. Now, it felt so empty and cold. It was an elegant house, all marble and gleaming wood with huge entertaining spaces and landscaping that rivaled the best country clubs—but it didn’t feel like a home. More than once, I had gotten the distinct feeling that was I living in a mausoleum. I was stuck in this place that held so many memories of my childhood, of my family. But they were all gone. It was just me and sometimes Ben and Nina and Pedro.

  Maybe it was time to let the house go.

  Maybe it was time to start a new chapter of my life in a place that was free from old memories.

  Wrapped in my towel, I joined him at the double vanity. I bumped his hip with mine and smiled at him before grabbing my toothbrush. His earlier fatigue seemed to have passed. Leaning forward with his hands planted on the white marble, he watched me go through my night routine of serums and creams.

  “Do you want to talk about the noodle shop?” I caught his gaze in the mirror.

  “It was a shit show.” Ben picked up the bottle I had just put down and scrutinized the back of it. “What the hell is niacinimide?”

  “It’s a Vitamin B thing. Don’t try to distract me. What actually happened?”

  “A crew out of Nickel Jackson’s territory was chasing down two guys in a red truck. Apparently, the red truck had hit one of their stash houses. One of the guys was shot and bleeding out in the passenger seat when the driver lost control and hit the restaurant. There was a shootout—”

  “What!” I stopped rubbing my face and looked at him. “Were they shooting at you?”

  “No.” He put down the bottle and moved to stand behind me. His warm, strong hands settled on my shoulders, and he bent down to kiss the curve of my neck. “I wasn’t at risk.”

  “A bunch of idiots were shooting each other right in front of you.”

  “They weren’t trying to shoot me. They were too busy popping off rounds at each other.”

  “Did they hit their marks?”

  “The driver of the red truck killed the two guys from Nickel’s crew. He stole their car and took off before the police got there. Left the cash and drugs he had stolen from the stash house with his dead friend.”

  “That’s awful.”

  Ben nodded and kissed my neck again. “It’s worse than awful.”

  “Because it’s gang stuff?”

  “All the bosses will have to meet later tonight to keep the peace.”

  “Do you know who was driving the red truck?”

  “No idea.”

  “The dead friend?”

  “I’ve never seen him before,” Ben said, his fingertips grazing my shoulder. “A detective from the gang unit was on the scene. He recognized me and had a car waiting at the hospital to take me down to the station for questioning. He’s such a pain in the ass.”

  A worrying thought occurred to me. “Was the shooting connected to your robbery?”

  Reluctantly, Ben nodded. “It was the same truck. Probably same two guys.”

  “Shit.” The mention of police questioning made me think of my own run-in with Detective Shaw. “Ben, we need to talk about something.”

  “Later,” he murmured, giving me a smoldering look. He tugged at the towel and let it drop around my feet. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Aston.”

  “But, Ben,” I protested weakly, wanting to tell him about the detective but also not wanting him to stop kissing and touching me.

  “Later,” he repeated and palmed my bottom with one of his big hands. “I have something better to do with my mouth than talk.”

  I shuddered as Ben pushed me forward until I was bent over the counter. The marble was cold against my skin, and I hissed at the shock of it. Covering my body with his, Ben kissed his way down my spine. His erection pressed against my bottom, giving me a promise of what was to come.

  “I thought about you all day.” His rough hands set my skin on fire as he caressed me with appreciative strokes. “I feel like I’m always sneaking in late and running out early. I’m not spending enough time with you.”

  “Ben, you give me what you can.” I shivered as he sucked on my neck. “We’re both so busy. Any time we spend together is precious to me.”

  “That’s why I’m not wasting my chance for this.” He pulled off his shirt and threw it aside. I let my hungry gaze roam his reflection, taking in his broad chest and the ripple of his muscles. A moment later, he sank to his knees behind me. His hand settled on the small of my back, pushing me down flat. He gripped my hips and canted them up before pushing my thighs apart and stunning me with a long lick.

  “Ben!”

  He laughed darkly and stabbed his tongue between my labia. He seemed to enjoy shocking me with things like this. Not that I was complaining. He might do the dirtiest things to me—but they felt so good. Sinfully good.

  He pushed my thighs even farther apart and attacked me with his mouth. The sensations were so strong I tried to wiggle away, but he pulled me back, holding onto my thighs and anchoring me right where he wanted me. Surrendering to him, I closed my eyes and rested my cheek against the marble. I let the wickedness of his tongue overwhelm me until I was rising up on tiptoes and straining against the wave of an impending orgasm.

  “Ben!” I came with a shout. Panting and slapping at the countertop, I tried to escape his tongue but he was so strong. I gasped when he suddenly spun me around and lifted my legs until they were on his shoulders. I fell back onto my palms and arched my back as his sinful mouth found my clit. I grabbed the back of his head, threading my fingers through his thick hair and taking hold.

  At first, I wanted to pull him away, to beg for mercy, but then his tongue flicked in a way that made my legs shake. I decided it was better to hold him right there, right where I needed him most. When my second climax hit, I let go completely. Head tipped back, I closed my eyes and rode the waves of explosive bliss.

  With gentle kisses on my lower belly and inner thighs, Ben brought me down from that orgasmic high. He stood and grabbed the closest hand towel to wipe his shiny mouth and chin. He looked utterly debauched, eyes dark with lust and skin flushed with exertion.

  Aching for him, I slid off the counter and grabbed the waistband of his shorts. In a few seconds, he was completely naked. I clasped his thick, hard cock and stroked it slowly, my grip loose and easy. Ben deftly unwound my now messy bun and tossed aside the hair tie. He combed his fingers through my hair until he had a handful of it at the base of my head.

  With a shift of his hips, he pressed his cock against my waiting, willing mouth. He was the first partner I had ever trusted to take total control when I was on my knees.
He liked to push my boundaries, but he respected the hard limits. It was a give and take that worked for us.

  “Suck,” he ordered in that low growl that made my pussy clench.

  I traced his shaft with my tongue and then swallowed as much of his length as I could handle. He groaned and pumped his hips, sliding his cock in a little deeper before pulling back completely. Holding his fiery gaze, I smiled around his dick and sucked him right back into my mouth. He swore softly and let me have my way with him, bobbing and stroking until he was shaking and right on the edge.

  Sensing he wasn’t sure whether to let go, I looked up at him and begged for his cum. “Come in my mouth, Ben.”

  “Christ, Aston,” he growled and slipped his shaft between my lips again. A few more strokes of my mouth, and he damn near roared as he came. I grasped his taut ass, my fingernails digging into his hot skin, and swallowed him as deep as I could. He shuddered against me, and I sat back on my heels, swallowing and grinning up at him. He ran his thumb over my lips and said, “You dirty, beautiful girl.”

  He helped me to my feet and drew me into his embrace. His hand swept up and down my back before tenderly patting my bottom. “You ready for bed, baby?”

  I had planned to do some late-night reading for work, but I could already feel my eyelids drifting closed. “Yes.”

  “Come here,” he said a little while later, gathering me in as I climbed into bed after tidying up and finding a nightgown.

  Tucked against him, I closed my eyes and listened to the soothing thud of his heartbeat under my ear. Drowsy, I traced one of the outlines of his tattoos. He smoothed a hand down my hair and asked, “What did you want to tell me earlier?”

  My fingertip faltered on the dark line of an eagle’s feather on his chest. “A detective came to see me this morning.”