There were a lot of unpleasantries about my job. Over the years, Takeback had been involved in hundreds of human trafficking rescues. I’d seen a lot of women, children, and men in despair. I’d seen hopelessness, anguish, sorrow, desperation. You name it, I’d witnessed it.
I’d seen fear and vulnerability.
And I was seeing it right then.
A different kind than I’d seen on the faces of the victims we’d helped. But there was no mistake, Sadie was exposing a fragility I hadn’t expected to see.
Not weakness, though she’d likely call it that.
There was strength in her despondence.
Sadie’s eyes darted around the room, her shoulders sagged, her back hunched forward along with her chin tipping down, and finally, she looked at her feet.
She was embarrassed I knew what she was doing, maybe even embarrassed she had to do it, but she was doing it. Sadie wasn’t the type of woman who’d lay down and allow things to happen to her. She wasn’t the type of woman who was going to lose without first putting up a fight.
She’d sell her clothes, shoes, and by the look of her home, other things besides.
What she wouldn’t do was crawl into a corner and give up.
Something else I liked about her.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“Bad,” she whispered, still looking at the floor.
Fuck.
“Your brother’s got two days to pay you back what he owes you. Will that help?”
“No.”
Fuck me.
Sadie’s jaw clenched, her neck tensed under my palm, and I braced. She was coming out of her stupor and coming to understand what she’d shared.
Her gaze came up and as soon as her eyes locked with mine the soft slid out and the hard crept in.
There it was, that backbone of steel mixed with no small amount of fortitude.
Good goddamn, I liked that.
Way too fucking much.
“Since you’ve brought it up,” she snapped. “We need to talk about Josh.”
Hell, yeah, we did.
Her brother was a piece of shit. I’d been sitting on what I’d found on him for days wondering if Sadie knew about Josh’s record. And I’d been doing that because she’d been ghosting me. Five days of that bullshit was all I could take, hence me showing up on her front stoop.
“We got a lotta stuff to talk about,” I reminded her. “But if you wanna start with your brother, you can tell me if he’s tried to call you since the day in front of your bakery. I know he hasn’t made contact otherwise.”
“How would you know that?”
Was she serious?
“I told you I’d be watching.”
“And I told you I didn’t want that.”
“So you get to watch me but you don’t want me watching you?”
“I don’t watch you!”
Her lie was punctuated with a sexy, low snarl. She also belatedly realized I had my hand on her neck and we were standing close. Something she rectified with a step back and a shrug, disengaging my hold.
“Right. So, I guess I imagined all those times I’ve caught you staring at me when I’m waiting in line, or when I’m sitting at a table with one of the guys enjoying my coffee.”
“I don’t stare at you,” she sputtered.
That was a lie.
I’d caught her on many occasions staring at me when she thought I couldn’t see. She did this mostly when my back was to her, and my back was to her so I could watch her stare at me using the front windows that ran the length of her shop. She also stared at me while I was waiting in line to order, but she only looked at me when she thought my attention was on my phone and when I’d look up, she’d quickly avert her eyes.
“You do. Wanna know how I know? Because from the moment I walk in I seek you out. Because I watch you. Because you find reasons to come out from behind the counter when I’m sitting at a table. Because you don’t send an employee over to deliver my coffee, you personally bring it to me.”
“Damn, Reese, you’ve got a mighty big ego.”
“Nope. Just calling it straight.”
“Hate to tell you but you got it wrong.”
Sadie’s arms crossed and her gaze went over my shoulder. There was also color blooming on her cheeks. She knew damn well she watched me, same as I couldn’t take my eyes off her whenever she was near.
“If you say so.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she hissed.
“It means I’m giving in and I’m not gonna argue with you because I know I’m right.”
She wisely let that go and asked, “Why are you here?”
“You really have to ask that?”
“I just did, so, obviously, yeah, I have to ask.”
Damn, she was cute as all get-out when she was riled up and throwing sass.
“You’ve been dodging me.”
Sadie pursed her lips, one side hitched up, and she squinted her eyes before she drawled, “So, you didn’t miss it then?”
Oh, yeah, she was cute as fuck when she was being a smartass.
“Hard to miss you scampering away every time I came in to see you.”
“I don’t scamper.”
“Then what would you call it?”
“Me, politely telling you—”
“Baby, to tell me something you gotta use your words like a big girl.”
Sadie bent slightly at the waist, leaned in, and spat, “Don’t be a dick.”
“It’s not me being a dick, Sadie.”
“You’re…you…you’re calling me a dick?” she stammered.
“Yep.”
I watched Sadie straighten and as she did this her arms uncrossed, fell to her sides, and her brows pulled together.
“Okay, Reese. You win. I’m the dick. And since I’m that, I don’t understand why you’d waste your time coming over here. I feel like I’ve said this to you about a hundred times; I don’t have time for what game you’re playing. But since you’re not catching the hint, I’ll spell it out. The other day what happened on the sidewalk was bullshit. I don’t want you involved—”
Before she could finish, I asked, “Do you know who Zeus is?”
“I’ve lived here my whole life, Reese. I know who Trevor Lawrence is and I refuse to call him by his stupid club name. I’ve known him since I was like six when he was just a scrawny little kid getting picked on during recess. And I knew him in middle school when he found his inner asshole. And I knew him in high school when he honed those skills and became someone anyone who was smart feared.”
Trevor was no longer scrawny. Though he was still an asshole and he’d ratcheted up the asshole to criminal and was now the president of the Horsemen.
“Do you know Tug Anderson?”
Sadie’s torso jerked and her features filled with sorrow. Sadness I knew was for Brooklyn, Rhode, Remington, and the Welshes. Tug and Kiki Welsh had kidnapped Remington. Remy had almost died that day. Tug and Kiki had died. Kiki by jumping in front of a bullet fired by Tug meant to kill Remy. Tug died with Rhode’s bullet in his forehead.
“Yes. I knew Tug.”
“Right. Did you know that while Tug was alive, he was pimping out women? Junkies he forced to work for him. But before he died, he branched out to clean women he could rent out for more money.”
“What?”
I didn’t miss the disgust on her face, nor did I miss the way she wheezed out her question. And it seriously fucking sucked talking about this sick shit with a woman who was sweet, sometimes shy, funny, smart, and beautiful. Sadie owned a bakery, for God’s sake. She walked around smelling like a sugary dessert and tasted even better. So I found no pleasure in explaining to her why I was now very much involved, whether she wanted me to be or not.
“Since Tug died, leaving his stable ripe for the pickin’, Zeus stepped up and took control. That means the Horsemen went from dealing drugs and whatever other fucked-up shit they do to keep themselves in booze and Harleys to selling ass.”
“Holy shit.”
“Holy shit’s right, Sadie. Your brother’s a part of that.”
Her eyes widened a fraction and fear crept in, which negated her rebuff. “He’s a jerk but he’d never hurt me.”
“You might think that, and you might even be right, but the men he’s running with wouldn’t bat an eye at fucking you over. And that, Sadie, means I’m at your back. You can tell me you don’t want me involved. You can say it over and over, you can scream it, you can do your best to push me away, but you’re gonna fail. There’s zero chance I’m walking away.”
“Why does he do this shit?”
I figured her question was rhetorical, and if it wasn’t I didn’t have an answer for her, so I remained silent.
“His whole life he’s been a pain in the ass. And not just a little one, a huge one. So big, my parents had to move to Florida to escape the shit he continued to dump on them. And what happens when they leave? He turns to me and piles me under his shit, knowing that I’m not going to let my baby brother drown. But he doesn’t care that I’m drowning. He doesn’t offer me help. And he knows because I told him what happened. He knows I can’t afford to give him more money, but he keeps coming around to ask, then gets pissed at me when I tell him I don’t have it. What kind of brother does that? Why on earth would he think it’s a good idea to join the Horsemen? Everyone knows to stay the hell away from them. If they’re in a bar, you turn your happy ass around and leave. You do not go in and have a drink. You don’t strike up a conversation with one of them. And you sure as hell don’t prospect for them.”
I had a response to that. “What happened?”
“Huh?”
“You said your brother knows what happened because you told him. So, what happened?”
In an instant, everything about Sadie changed. She went from being upset about her brother, ranting about him being a pain in the ass, to wary. Then very, very angry.
“None of your business.”
Every word was enunciated and clearly underlined in bold. Her tone left no room for argument, yet I pushed.
“I see you’re not getting it, Sadie, so I’ll lay it out for you. I’m making it my business. I was doing that before I found out you’ve got a brother who’s mixed up with a bunch of assholes. I was doing that before I found out your brother owed you money. I was doing that before that scene in front of your bakery. I was doing it before I fucked you in your office. I was doing it before I came over here and saw you were selling your goddamn clothes. I made the decision when I came in to get my afternoon fix and heard you on the phone asking someone to give you more time to pay your rent. But that decision was carved in stone after what we shared.”
I watched her eyes narrow. She was pissed and getting more so by the second. Perversely, I found it a turn-on—not her anger, but the fire I saw flash across her features. Sadie wasn’t going to back down; she’d go toe-to-toe with me and do it happily. She’d do it not to be argumentative but because she was the kind of woman who wouldn’t back down, and that was a huge turn-on.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. We didn’t share—”
“Tell me who fucked you over?”
“No.”
“You remember what I do?”
“What you do?”
“Yeah, Sadie, what I do. Takeback. You remember I find people, right?”
Realization dawned.
Sadie was friends with Brooklyn and Letty. Brooklyn was engaged to my teammate Rhode which was the reason my boss Wilson McCray had moved Takeback’s operation from Arizona to Idaho. We couldn’t afford to lose Rhode’s expertise and Rhode understandably wanted to be in Idaho with his son and fiancée. Sadie’s friendship with the women meant she knew what Takeback did, and even if she wasn’t friends with them, we didn’t hide who we were therefore Sadie would know because the whole town knew.
“You wouldn’t dare,” she spat.
“I’m not sure how I can make this any clearer for you, but I’ll try,” I started. “Not only will I dig through your life, but I’ll also dig through your finances. I’ll dig through your brother’s. I’ll comb through everyone you’ve had contact with in the last year. So, not only will I do it, I’ll do it happily and thoroughly.”
Sadie sucked in a breath, puffed out her chest, and took two steps, not stopping until she was in my space. I fought the urge to breathe her in, to lean in, run my tongue over her throat, and see if she tasted as good as I remembered. To haul her ass back to her bedroom and do all the things I’d been dreaming about doing to her. The only thing that stopped me was her accusation I was only there to get her into bed.
“I’m not sure how I can make myself any clearer, Reese, but I’ll try,” she mocked. “Stay the fuck out of my business. This is not a joke. This is not fun for me. My life is so screwed up right now, I can’t see my way out of it. I’m selling my clothes!” she roared and threw her arms wide. Then quietly, in a whisper, she repeated, “I’m selling my clothes, Reese. Do you know how embarrassing that is? I’ve worked my ass off for years to build my business. I’ve worked seven days a week, twelve-hour days to build something I’m proud of. Something that is mine. And now I’m working just as hard to save it. So as embarrassing as it is, I’ll sell everything I own if it means I save my business. What I will not do, is fight with you about it. My problems are not yours. I did this to myself, and I’ll fight like hell to get myself out of it. I don’t need you poking around in my life, invading my privacy. I don’t need you showing up at my house, breaking in. I don’t need you leaving hundred-dollar tips. I don’t need jackshit from anyone.”
When she finished, her chest was rising and falling like she’d run a marathon. One she hadn’t trained for because she was seriously huffing and puffing.
“How’d you do it to yourself?” I asked quietly.
Much to my dislike and dismay, tears formed and within seconds spilled down her cheeks.
Fucking hell.
“You’re not listening.”
“Baby, I am. I’m listening to every word. But it doesn’t jibe. I know how hard you work because in all the months I’ve lived here I haven’t seen you take a day off. I can’t say I’m at Treats every day, but damn near close. And the times I don’t go in but I’m at the bookstore, I see your car parked behind the bakery, so I know you’re there. What I don’t see is you driving an expensive car. I don’t see you kitted out in expensive clothes, jewelry, and shoes. I don’t see you not showing up at work going on vacations. You keep saying you did this to yourself but that doesn’t fit with the woman I know you to be. And I know exactly the kind of woman you are because you’re selling your fucking clothes, Sadie, not sitting in a corner sniveling.”
Sadie angrily swiped at the tears and shook her head.
“Seems to me like I’m sniveling now.”
“There’s a difference between tears of frustration and crying in a corner and you damn well know that. I get you’re embarrassed. I understand what it feels like to be humiliated. I know how hard it is to swallow the bitter taste of indignity.” I paused when Sadie’s chin dipped, and her eyes slid to the side.
I lifted my hands and cupped her wet cheeks. It was risky but necessary. I needed her looking at me but at the same time, touching her brought on a different kind of need. The kind that went beyond the obvious sexual tension. The kind that made me want to pull her close and just hold her. The kind that I couldn’t afford to allow myself to feel.
Been there. Done that. Never doing it again.
“Let me help you, Sadie.”
“No!”
Her refusal was curt and soft, but she might as well have shouted it in my face.
“No strings. No one will know. Just a friend helping a friend.”
Sadie’s stubborn blue eyes held mine when she repeated, “No!”
“You’d rather lose everything you worked so hard for?”
“I’d rather shove toothpicks in my eyeballs than take a handout.”
That wasn’t strength; that was sheer stubborn stupidity.
“You being stubborn doesn’t prove anything. No, actually, it does. It proves you’ll let pride stand in your way. It proves you got an ego. It proves you got further to fall before you come to realize that accepting help doesn’t mean the success you’ve achieved isn’t still all yours. It also means you’re confusing humiliation with humility. There’s nothing fucking wrong with needing help and taking what’s being offered. But there sure as fuck is something wrong with turning it down because you can’t set your ego aside. With that being said, my offer stands. A no-strings, no-interest loan. I’m not gonna beg you to take my money, but I hope like fuck before you lose your business you come find me.”
I dropped my hands and stepped back.
“Reese—”
“I’ll be back in a few days with the money your brother owes you. And when I do, I don’t wanna catch shit about it. That money is owed to you. It’s not me or your brother giving it to you.”
With that, I turned to leave. My gaze went around the room wondering what she’d already sold and cataloging the rest. I wanted nothing more than to stay and argue until she agreed to let me help her. Every instinct I had screamed to fight with her and for her. And that was a red flag. A big ass mental stop sign.
It had been years. So long ago, some men might’ve forgotten. But I remembered. The betrayal and cynicism were branded on my heart. The embarrassment I felt when I found out my wife was a cheating bitch still churned in my gut.
Feelings and emotions were off-limits.
I opened the front door and for the first time since I’d come home from deployment and caught my wife in bed with another man, I had to force myself to leave a woman’s house. I had to remind myself I felt nothing.
Thankfully, I succeeded.