Love Me Tonight Read online

  “If I was, I would’ve taken you out long before we escaped the apartment. Besides...” he tilts his head as if teasing me. Then he shoots me a serious look. “They saw my face. What’s done is done. All I can do is help us get out of this situation.”

  He’s right. It’s dangerous for me to be alone too, and he has a car...and a gun. Plus, I need my coat. My life depends on that coat.

  I might not be able to find someone as willing to help me as this man right here, but am I willing to take the risk of trusting him?

  Seven

  Rob

  The clock is ticking.

  Even so, she seems obsessed with going back to snag her coat and bag. I’m pretty sure it’s a bad idea, but I can’t help sorting it out.

  She doesn’t seem like the kind of woman to get all bothered over petty shit, so my guess is that they’re not petty at all. The more I think about it, the more I want to know why she wants her stuff back so badly.

  Stella bites her lower lip while her arms stay crossed. If she continues to do that, I might not be able to contain myself.

  Let’s hope she does?

  “I understand that you don’t trust me,” I finally break the ice. “That’s good, but I can’t let you go alone. At least, let me help you.”

  Perhaps a little act of chivalry made an impression on her because she finally relaxes. Her tensed features are now at ease. Arching a brow, she offers a faint smile.

  “I do,” she says. Does that mean she trusts me now? “I...trust you, Rob. But I need you to trust me too.”

  “Alright, let’s go.”

  The adrenaline kicks in as soon as I turn around and head for the car. I haven’t felt this surreal rush of panic in years. The familiar surge of emotions takes me back to my service in Iraq—a thing of the past, but something that still affects me in the present.

  While in the driver’s seat, I begin to realize that the key isn’t there. I had jumped into the car forgetting that Jamal has the habit of keeping his cars unlocked and stashing their keys somewhere safe.

  “Get in,” I demand, and Stella obediently follows.

  She hastily puts on the seatbelt while I step out to search the sides of the front tire for the key. Bingo. Taking it out from its hiding place, I strap myself in and fire her up. The car roars to life, and the rattle makes my balls ache.

  “Don’t you want to know what’s in my coat and bag?” The apprehension in her voice tells me she’s not ready to give up that information just yet.

  Studying her face up close, I almost get lost in the beauty of her green eyes. Between that and her chestnut hair, this woman is a pure-bred knockout. She’s a beautiful distraction taking me on a wild ride.

  I just have to remember to protect her.

  “I’ll listen when you’re comfortable enough to open up about it,” I respond. Changing the subject, I continue, “Anyway, we can’t go back to the apartment. Chances are they’ve already got whatever you had.”

  Stella thinks hard and bites her lip once more. Jesus Christ. Why does she keep biting that lip? We sit in silence and her expression darkens.

  I can tell she knows I’m right. How could the men have broken into my apartment and not touched her stuff on the floor? If it’s that important to her, I’d bet hard cash it’s important to those assholes.

  Is this chivalry, or am I just being a fucking idiot? And what the hell am I getting myself into? This woman has danger written all over her, and the problem is I’ve always found that kind of thing insanely hot. And this time it’s damn near searing. I’m in.

  “So, you know they’ve got it, right?”

  “Yeah,” she nods staring outside the window. Then, her eyes snap to me, like a lightbulb just went off. “I think I know where to find them.”

  A glint in her eyes tells me she’s ready to party. We’re done being chased, but this woman probably has no clue what she’s up against. Or, she has every clue and is hungry for it.

  Is this really what I’m doing? I kept telling myself I wanted to live a normal life and try to get my shit together. But this? This isn’t part of the plan. I have more than enough problems to deal with. But, this is just too tempting to pass up.

  Okay, Rob. Let’s head to the men’s hideout and get this over with.

  Once we’ve got her stuff, I’ll tap out. Step back. Even if she decides to fully trust me and tell me what all this is really about. I’ll do my best to stay out of it.

  When I finished up my service, this wasn’t how I pictured civilian life. Then again, civilian life wasn’t how I pictured civilian life.

  It’s funny how fate can be such a bitch. When you finally choose to make amends with your past, you’re bound to encounter a few setbacks. I realize that I’m not so good at saying no, especially when there’s a beautiful woman involved. And to call Stella beautiful would damn near be an insult.

  “Rob?” I look at her, and breathe deeply to savor the last moments of my normal life.

  “Are you sure about this?” I say, unable to hide the skepticism in my voice.

  “Are you?”

  “Fair enough.” We sit in silence for a second.

  “This is a matter of life and death. If I don’t get it back, I’ll—”

  “Save it for later. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about it,” I courteously interject. She nods at me.

  “Drive.” It isn’t a command. In fact, it almost seems like a battle cry. For the time being, I’m her only ally.

  I step on the gas and we burn our way out of there. The alleyway beside the falafel stop is barely enough to accommodate a car, but I manage. We pass by the shop and speed up as Stella starts giving me directions.

  I don’t know what will happen next, but I’m gonna have to knuckle down and lean in.

  I’m afraid I might be overestimating my capabilities, and our confrontation with the men might escalate. I’m afraid we might be outnumbered and defeated over an issue I know nothing about.

  Still, I feel an obligation to protect this woman. I’d be a fool to say I’m not enjoying this.

  Eight

  Stella

  We drive to South Boston. It’s got an irrefutable reputation for being a gritty neighborhood, but I gotta be honest, that’s exactly my speed. When I say that’s where we’re headed, Rob barely bats an eye. Looks like he might wind up being my speed, too.

  I suggest park the car a few blocks away from the actual hideout. With the kind of noise this thing makes, we might as well go in there waving a flag. We’re gonna have to work overtime to fit in down here as it is. People in this part of town can smell a stranger a mile away.

  Avoiding making a grand entrance, I take Rob to a shortcut that can lead us to the back portion of the warehouse. Crossing my fingers, I hope they’re really where I expect they’ll be.

  There’s a cinder block fence between us and the spot, but Rob takes that in a single bound and holds a hand down for me. If that ain’t a panty dropper, I don’t know what is.

  As soon as our hands meet, I feel static, like an electric charge ripping through my system. It’s only a flash, but it’s undeniable. Maybe I can blame that for my balance as I gracelessly join him on the other side of the fence.

  “You okay?” he asks, those iron hands gripping my waist to keep me from staggering further.

  “Uh-huh,” I respond, avoiding his gaze. What’s wrong with me? All I want is more of those hands.

  “Wait here,” he whispers. Walking past me, he pulls out the gun tucked in his jeans. As he lifts his shirt, I can see the perfect proportions of his lower back muscles. Remembering the feel of his hard rock abs from earlier satiates me. I give my head a solid shake and remind myself to focus. Unfortunately, my mind isn’t cooperating.

  Rob cautiously lowers the gun while surveying the scene. He crosses quietly to the window sill of the warehouse and peeks in. After a second, he goes completely still, as if he’s caught sight of something.

  Slowly, I tiptoe toward him and bend
over. There are two motherfuckers in there, but neither of them have spotted us yet. Rob ducks and half-kneels, his body facing mine.

  “It looks like they have your bag,” he says. “We need to get inside.”

  That’s impossible. We can’t go inside the warehouse without strolling right in the front. Showing up just like that would be suicide.

  Surveying the place in silence, Rob fixes his gaze on a cluster of empty barrels. They’re stacked in a kind of jumble, but he seems like he knows what he’s doing. Going over, he takes one and rolls it away from the wall as quietly as he can.

  “Lucky.” He points to an opening hidden behind the barrels. He places his finger over his lips, as if I need a fucking reminder. We crawl our way into the warehouse, where even more barrels surround us.

  Our little hiding spot smells of mold and wet concrete, but I’ll take it. Shit, I’ve been in worse spots. But, at least it gives us a dead view on the suckers milling around.

  “Jesus, my fucking back.” The lankier of the two makes a big deal of rubbing just above his flat ass.

  “Whatsa matter? Your boyfriend ram you too hard last night?”

  “Shut up, fatass.” Lanky fucker punches his chunky companion in the arm and they laugh. My coat and bag are on the table, and we watch as they dump out my bag and rummage through my stuff.

  “Ah, fuck! Where did that bitch hide it?” the lanky guy sneers, slapping his hands on the table. “Fuck her, the witch.”

  Getting stressed out, are we? I grip Rob’s arms as the other guy reaches for my coat. Rob mutters to stay low and move behind him. We’re so close to each other, I can take an even better look at his features.

  His brown eyes are mesmerizing, but they kind of feel...sad. Apart from his suggestively rugged look, he’s a hunk. But why do I have that nagging curiosity to learn more about him? What’s there to know?

  I’ll figure that out later. For now, I have to concentrate and follow Rob.

  “Any luck with the coat?” scrawny asks, clearly ready to give up.

  “Nah, nothing in here.”

  “Might be better to take a closer look.” Thinking the worst is over, the lanky one seizes the coat. He shakes the cloth waiting for it to fall. Nothing happens.

  You’ll never guess where it is.

  He feels each side of the coat with his hands and begins turning it inside out. The acid in my stomach burns when he notices the peculiar flap by the buttonholes. He checks the rest of the cloth, but can’t find anything similar.

  “That’s interesting,” he says.

  Guess I spoke too soon. I lean forward to get a better view of what he’s doing, praying that he doesn’t uncover anything. And I’m not the praying kind, so the man upstairs better listen good.

  Out of the blue, Rob groans in front of me. I realize that my chest is pressed up against his back. The men are now looking in our direction, ears perked.

  Fuck! They heard him.

  Rob covers my mouth with his hands. Did my tits make him groan like that? Noted.

  Searching for a way out, I point to his rear, telling him we should make a move for it. He drags me by the hand and we scuffle among the stacked barrels. If we can just get to the door, maybe we can make a break for the car. Even a little head start would work.

  But, the barrel of a gun stops us in our tracks.

  “Put the gun down,” the stocky man has his sights on us, keeping his eyes squarely on Rob, who lowers his gun to the ground.

  “Good job, Rust,” the lanky one says. In response, Rust waves his gun and orders us to put our hands up.

  “Walk to the table and keep your hands where we can fucking see them. You first,” he tells me. I take a heavy step forward and approach the table. The coat is now within arm’s reach. If only I could get my hands on it.

  “Face me.”

  I turn around and meet eyes with the lanky dude. Rob’s taking his time walking as Rust presses the barrel to his head.

  Rob suddenly swivels his body, evading the barrel. Because he’s so much taller than Rust, he’s able to elbow Rust in the neck and disarm him. It’s a beautiful fucking move, and leaves Rust on his knees, wailing in pain.

  “Grab your things now!” Rob shouts. I snatch my shit up and a gunshot rings out. I spin around to see bones limping, clasping his right leg as blood oozes from his pants.

  “Hurry!” Rob yells, and I dash to him.

  New voices rise up, and a huddle of men skid up into the doorway. They look at their fallen comrades, then back to us. They start cracking off shots, so we tuck low and break for the barrels. Rob picks up his own gun bullets cascade around us.

  We break back out into the open, and sprint for the car. Maybe we should have parked closer after all. But, when we finally slam the doors and sit there panting, it feels a lot like victory. And I’ll fucking take it.

  Nine

  Rob

  Ripping our way out of South Boston, I watch the town disappear from the car’s side mirror. We’re fortunate enough to have dodged all those bullets, but I can’t imagine what else they plan to do.

  I’m positive that these men will hunt us down, especially since I shot one of them. It triggered me when the lanky man was about to pull his weapon out from his leather jacket. They’ve probably already figured out we took back Stella’s coat and bag. They’ll know that whatever they’re looking for is in our hands.

  What would drive these shady men to chase down a beautiful woman? Money? Drugs? Trafficking?

  Glancing at the sleeping beauty beside me, she clings to her belongings like a child incapable of letting go of a stuffed toy. She kept asking me where we’re off to the minute we drive out of South Boston. I didn’t tell her exactly, so all she knows is we’re off to somewhere probably safer in the west.

  The grueling three-hour drive is hurting my legs. I’m no longer used to long drives. How long has it been since my last road trip? Well, I don’t remember.

  The apocalyptic-looking skies seem to complement how our day’s been going. I glimpse at the rearview mirror, ensuring we aren’t being followed. The coast is clear.

  Nearing the path to the cabin, all the memories suddenly come rushing back and hit me—memories of my grandfather. I feel a twinge of regret as we drive onto the property. The potholed trail leading up to the cabin awakens Stella. Disoriented, she bolts up and touches me on the arm.

  “Easy,” I say, assuring her. “We’re here.”

  “But where are we?” she continues to look around. The forest up ahead is dark, so it might be frightening to her. While our headlights are on, they might not be enough to make her feel secure.

  “Don’t worry, this place is safe.” The light shines on the cabin a few meters away from us. I park the car behind the cabin and kill the engine.

  “You own this place?” she asks. I step out of the car and she follows.

  “Sort of,” I answer rather somberly. “It’s my grandfather’s, but he passed away. He gave this cabin to me. ”

  “I’m sorry.”

  I don’t answer. Instead, I lead the way up to the wooden stairs on the porch.

  “I’ll be right back,” I tell her, advising her to stay, but she wobbles her head in disagreement. I figure she doesn’t want to be alone. “Alright, let’s go through the back door. The key should be there.”

  Our footsteps tap on the wooden floor. We stand in front of the back door as I reach above the door frame, sliding the secret compartment open and finding the key still hidden in it.

  My grandfather was always good at building these wood panels for safekeeping. It actually began one summer, during our usual treasure games. It inspired him to make one to leave clues in as we played along.

  I struggle a bit with pushing the key into the lock, but I successfully unlock it and turn the knob after a minute. We enter and see that, though the cabin’s pretty run down, it’s more than sufficient as a temporary shelter. I hear a loud noise and find Stella locking the back door.

  �
�Sorry...just want to make sure,” she says while I squint my eyes in the darkness.

  “That’s fine,” I respond and switch on the lights, but they aren’t working. I hold onto the walls and find my way around the room, realizing we’re standing in the kitchen. The scarce light coming from the kitchen window is the only light source I have as I open the drawers and discover a bunch of candles and a match.

  I start lighting two candles and hand one to Stella.

  “Thanks,” she says. The coat and bag are still with her, and she’s not about to let it go.

  “Come with me.” I pace to the master’s bedroom while raising the candle inches above me. Opening the door to the master’s bedroom, I inform Stella that she can use the bathroom to wash up. “I’ll be out to set up the fireplace.”

  “Do you have wood piled up?” she asks curiously.

  “I have to check. Don’t worry about it.” Her brow furrows and I interrupt her thoughts before she can say anything. “I’m sure there’s plenty of wood. The cabin hasn’t been used...in years.”

  Leaving her, I close the door and work on the fireplace. Thankfully, there are still piles of chopped wood left untouched beside it. Then I realize the cabin inside looks pretty much the same as when I last saw it. However, it does need some cleaning...and maybe a few renovations here and there.

  The couch and sofa are a bit dusty, but usable. Setting aside the candle, I surmise that the light from the fireplace should do. I sit and reflect on everything that happened today.

  I truly don’t think I’m prepared for any of this. I’m inept at protecting those close to me, let alone a stranger. If this goes on, I might not live another day to try to protect anyone else.

  Anyone who stands with me somehow meets a tragic end. I’ve seen it happen to my comrades, my friends while stationed in Iraq. Why was I put in this position? Why must I carry such a responsibility?