Page 88 of Smooth Moves
He shrugged. “You were an MP. You know your shit.”
She’d always wanted to be treated like an equal yet still like a woman. In the Army, her peers had treated her more like a platonic pal, so she’d made do being seen as one of the guys instead of as Jordan, a woman who happened to be military police. She’d known plenty of female soldiers who took advantage of those wanting to protect them. Or given the slim ratio of women to men, built a stud farm, taking their pick of all the hottest guys around.
Not Jordan. She wanted to be seen for her strengths. As a woman, yes, but one who could kick ass. Cash, by giving her the time to fight her own battle, had given her so much more than a chance at a victory. He’d given her trust both in herself and in him.
“What did I do now?” He groaned. “You look like you want to kick my ass.”
He tensed when she rounded the counter toward him, and she would have laughed at the big tough Marine afraid of “Little Army.” But she felt so much for him she couldn’t speak.
So she hugged him tightly and planted a kiss right over his heart.
He let out a ragged breath and caged her, protectively, in his big arms. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she heard him whisper against her hair, “I am so gone for you.” Then he kissed her, and they stood together, no words needed.
* * *
Rafi watched them, bemused to see his sister so…content at being held by a Neanderthal. Rafi didn’t know that much about Cash, but there was no mistaking the goofy look on the guy’s face. He’d never seen anyone move with such brutality when Cash had kicked Alvarez’s ass. Well, except for watching his sister nail the prick.
He couldn’t believe Jordan had been so exact, so lethal when taking a bigger man down. She hadn’t been cruel, just firm. But Cash… He’d been ruthless. Those hands like weapons as he’d punched Alvarez before nailing the guy in the nads.
So totally cool. And terrifying.
And now the guy cuddled his tough sister in his arms as if she meant the world to him.
Would he have made a move if he hadn’t looked up and seen Rafi standing there?
“Tea?” Cash asked.
Rafi shook his head and tiptoed back out of the room, overhearing his sister say, “Yeah, let’s have that tea now.”
He went back to bed, wondering what to do. How much had Cash seen earlier when his car had slowed near Juan’s crew? How much did he know? And would he end up using those fists against Rafi when he realized just what Rafi had done?
* * *
The next morning, Rafi hustled off “to school.” He’d had his hacker buddy circumvent the emails and change Rafi’s emergency point of contact to intercept a few phone calls—Daniel was an evil teen genius—so his sister still had no idea he’d been kicked out. Unfortunately, leaving with Juan last week had been a disaster. He’d almost rather be back with Dickhead Simpson than be messing around with the stuff Juan was into.
Though Juan wasn’t all that important in the scheme of things, he knew bad people, the kind who had ties to the West Side Wolves. WSW was a bad news gang. And Juan worked for them, or, more specifically, he worked for Paul Lasko, a bully with an addiction to heroin and his switchblade, and who’d gotten kicked out of school last year. Everyone at school had heard about the guy.
Unfortunately, Lasko had ties to WSW and a cache of drugs. The police had supposedly raided the gang a few times. It had been on the news, but the court dates were taking a while, and Toto, their leader, was out on bail. Unconcerned, according to Juan, because Toto “knew people.”
Rafi about lost his mind when he’d seen the baggie of drugs Juan flashed around, crap Juan was selling at school. Crap he wanted Rafi to start moving for him.
This was so beyond Rafi’s comfort level it wasn’t funny. Bad stuff like this happened on television to idiots who didn’t know better. Rafi did, and he’d never done drugs. Sure, he’d had a beer now and then, had cut school, even dumped that cherry bomb down a school toilet, but that was the extent of his illegal extracurricular activities.
Until he’d made the mistake of joining Juan for a ride. He’d seen things he couldn’t unsee. And now Lasko knew his name because stupid Juan had called and told him.
Rafi wiped tears from his eyes, helpless and hopeless.
All Rafi had wanted was to get through tenth grade and move back home. He couldn’t keep leeching off his sister, and now that his high school career had ended, that East Coast military academy would be his future unless he could make a better one. But selling drugs?
He huddled in an alley on the other side of town, careful to keep his hoodie up and his face down. He had to make some big decisions. If he didn’t start selling the stash Juan had given him, Rafi would get in trouble with Juan’s posse. Or worse—as Juan had threatened—with Lasko and his switchblade.
It wasn’t as if Rafi hadn’t tried to leave. When he’d first seen that baggie and heard Juan’s proposal, he’d been set to bolt. But the guys had all been around, and Juan had called him a pussy. Rafi hadn’t wanted to seem weak. So he’d gone to a WSW club, hung out and drank and laughed with the guys. And when Juan had put that baggie of pills in his hand in front of the others, Rafi’d had to say yes or face down half a dozen kids who thought themselves part of WSW. In reality, they were a bunch of rich banger-wannabes trying to act big and bad. But Lasko was the real deal, and Juan knew him.
Juan also knew where Rafi lived and what Jordan looked like. Rafi wanted so badly to tell, but a rat wouldn’t be worth shit at school or on the street, and neither would the rat’s sister.
He wiped his nose on his sleeve, feeling small and frightened and…lost. At least he and Jordan no longer lived in the apartment complex. Maybe Juan wouldn’t be able to find them. Especially if Rafi kept out of sight. And Cash would protect Jordan if the gang got wind of them.
Maybe. Except Jordan had been seen on TV with that Vets on the Go! job. Everyone knew where that crew was headquartered.
