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THE NEXT MORNING, before the sun had risen, they drove two vehicles into the city. It gave Duke and Sage time alone, even with Sage being a little sleepy and him on high alert for any signs of cars following them.
The ride was more delightful than their trip to the city earlier that week ... besides the unspoken nerves of tonight’s plan. The plan that might kill Sage or all of them. Duke knew it had to be done. He’d debated all night, and no other solution would end the hit on Sage and her mother faster than confronting Santos tonight. And there was no other place to confront the man than the underground fight. He didn’t like it, but they were out of options.
When they’d arrived at Bowie’s house, Duke had been forced to make another hard decision. After deep contemplation, Duke decided to leave Sage under Stone and Hawk’s protection at Bowie’s secure house.
If they died tonight, there was one thing he needed to find peace with first.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come?” Sage asked, while he pulled her bag out of the truck. He handed it to Stone.
“No, I have to do this alone. You’re safe here. Stone and Hawk will be here. No one gets in or out without a code.”
She half-smiled, full of worry and concern.
He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “No escape plans while I’m gone.”
She gave a small chuckle and lightly slapped his chest.
He stayed until she was safely inside, then he climbed in his truck and drove across town.
One foot after the next.
That had been the same sentence he’d told Bowie when her nerves had overcome her before they stepped into a crowd. “I got you,” he would tell her and she’d trust him.
Now, he had to tell himself that he had him.
One foot and then the next.
He walked to the receptionist desk, and even though he tried not to, he noted the woman was in her early twenties, brown eyes and petite. He’d never stop scrutinizing his surroundings, people, and situations around him, and he accepted that part of him.
“I’m here to see Maggie Falkner.”
The young woman tapped on her computer’s keyboard. “And you are?”
“Duke Falkner. I’m her son.”
The woman looked up with narrowed eyes. “I didn’t know Maggie had a son. Can I see some identification, please?”
How would they have known about her having a son, when he never visited?
After checking his identification, the receptionist handed it back. “Go through those doors you’ll find the living room. Maggie likes to sit in the corner and listen to music at this time.”
“Thank you.” He tucked his license back in his wallet and slipped it in his back pocket with a nod.
He noted that patients walked the halls freely and moved in and out of the rooms without assistance or supervision. Nurses and security seemed scarce.
In one corner of the living room, chairs of elderly people encircled a television playing an old sitcom. On the other side, shelves lined the wall with books and comfy reading chairs. The chair by the window caught his attention. He crossed the room, each thud of his shoes sounding like a warning to turn around.
One foot and then the next.
He stopped behind the chair, still inwardly fighting with himself for being here. He could turn away. She hadn’t seen him yet. And from what his foster parents, the police, and his supervisor had always told him, even if he faced her, she wouldn’t know who he was.
He wanted to leave.
He wanted to stay.
He moved beside her and sat down in the seat across from her.
Her hair was white now, almost the same color as her pale skin, but wavy and shoulder length, which was shorter than he remembered. Her hair had once almost touched her lower back and quite often she wore it in a bun.
“Mom?” He cleared his throat when his voice wouldn’t work. “Mom, it’s me. Duke,” he said louder, but she didn’t acknowledge him. He hadn’t expected her to, but still, her vacant stare sent a twang of disappointment through him.
“I’m sorry I haven’t visited you sooner.” He wanted to reach for her hand, but didn’t know what her reaction might be. “They wouldn’t let me see you when I was younger. I had wanted to, but they wouldn’t allow it.” He remembered his first foster home. He’d begged his social worker and the family in charge of him to bring him here, but they’d all denied him until he’d stopped asking.
“And I’m sorry I didn’t come when I was old enough to find you on my own. I wanted to, but I could never bring myself to do it.” Those had been the years the guilt had really started to pile on.
He scrubbed a hand over his face, not wanting to go down that path with her.
“I’m a bodyguard. I protect people for a living. Or at least I did. I’m on my last job for a while. I need to rethink my career choice. I remember we used to sing when Dad wasn’t home. We would move the table in the living room, crank up the radio to sing and dance for hours. I used to dream of becoming a musician. I think Annie wanted to be a dancer.”
“Annie ...” The name was lower than a whisper from his mother’s lips.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Yes, Annie. Pete, on the other hand, disliked dancing and singing. He always had his nose in a book. Do you remember that?”
She turned her head and her blank stare focused on Duke. The exact stare he’d feared facing, afraid the guilt of being responsible for her empty stare would overtake him. But he’d already asked himself the same question: if he hadn’t run away like a chicken, would he have saved her?
The answer was, he’d never know. She wouldn’t have wanted a life of him asking that same question. She’d want him to live and dance.
Today, he planned to let go of the guilt and move on because tomorrow he could be dead.
He bent down on his knee in front of her and took her fragile hands on his. “Mom, I’m sorry I didn’t stay. I’m sorry I didn’t stand up to Dad and save you. If I could do it again, I would do it differently. But I can’t.” A tear slipped down his cheek but he didn’t bother to wipe it away, not wanting to let her go. “I have to let the guilt, that part of me, go, and it starts here, with you. If I can come back”—if he didn’t die at the fight—“I will visit you every week, maybe even a couple of times. I’ll fill you in on my life and talk to you because I know you would have done the same with me.” He sniffed. “I love you, Mom.” He reached up and kissed her cheek. He felt her body react for the first time. He bent back and she found his eyes.
“Hale? Hale, is that you?”
Duke shook his head, never realizing he could look so much like his dad.
He stood and let her hands go. “I love you Mom.”
He walked away, but he didn’t feel like he was walking away from her. This time he felt like he was going to fight to come back.
***
SAGE STARED AT THE white basket filled with water balloons, knowing there wasn’t water inside them.
“Are you serious?” She looked up at Bowie, but couldn’t tell through the sunglasses she was wearing as to whether or not she was serious.
Bowie bent down and fished out two white T-shirts and two half aprons and tossed one of each at Sage.
“Yes,” Bowie answered
“One drunken night and you want to do it again? Now?”
“I want a rematch.”
“A rematch?”
Bowie nodded. “Yes. You cheated the last round.”
“How do you cheat at water balloons?”
“Paint balloons,” Bowie corrected.
“You do know we have an event tonight where I might die?” Sage said. Even though her words sounded light and playful, the reality of tonight had begun to pile on top of her. The closer the night crept up on her, the more it uncovered her fear.
If Bowie’s hunch was correct, they could all be walking into a line of fire. The smart thing to do would be to stay as far away from Santos as she could. But then how long would it be before her mother took another bullet? And would it kill her this time? Or next time would it be Sage? She didn’t have options.
“This is the perfect solution for you to relax before your death.”
Relax, Sage’s ass. Shaking her head, she pulled off her tank top and slipped the T-shirt over her bathing suit. When Bowie had invited her to the pool, swimming had been what she’d had in mind.
Sage tied the apron around her waist. “That’s not funny,” she said, knowing her friend was teasing.
Her friend. She liked the sound of that.
Bowie slipped herself into her T-shirt and flipped her hair out of her face. “You’re not going to die. Duke wouldn’t let that happen.”
“I know.” She knew he would give his life to save her, but what if they all had to give their lives? What if they all didn’t walk out alive?
“Enough about tonight,” Bowie said.
Sage would gladly like to think of anything besides tonight. She picked up a single balloon and glanced around the backyard at five heaping baskets of paint-filled balloons. “Why are there so many baskets?”
“It’s not just you and me.” Bowie waggled her eyebrows just as Duke, Stone, and Hawk walked out. They also wore matching white T-shirts that spanned across their wide bodies. These men all looked like fighters getting ready to step into a ring.
Her heart melted at the sight of Duke, and a pitter-patter of emotions fluttered through her. One part of her was thrilled to see him and the other part saw he carried a little bit of sadness in his walk. She couldn’t wait until after the paint balloon fight to ask him how his day went.
She set her balloon back in the basket and raced over to him, stopping him before he made it to the rest of the crowd. “I didn’t know you were back already.”
He bent down and kissed her, like he was trying to kiss away her worry. “I’m good.”
“That was fast.” She heard her skepticism and saw his mouth crack a grin.
He ran his finger across her jaw. “I’ve never had a person care about me as much as you do.”
She lifted her hand to touch his arm between them. “How did it go with your mom?”
He embraced her in a strong, short hug. “I talked to her. She didn’t know who I was, but I didn’t expect her to. I said what I needed to say and next time I would like you to come with me. I’d like you to meet her, even if she doesn’t know who I am or who you are.”
“I would like that.”
He bent down and kissed her head. “What am I doing in a white T-shirt? I barely got through the door and Stone was stripping me naked.”
Sage laughed and stepped away. “Don’t you remember?”
“Remember what?”
“That time when Bowie had that great idea to prank Reed by attacking him with paint balloons instead of water balloons.”
“Ohhh...” Duke looked past her at the baskets. “Is that what this is?”
Her smile widened. “Yes. And remember, when Reed ended up not showing, I sort of turned on Bowie and we had a massive paint balloon fight?”
“I recall how messy it was. Didn’t Susan end up hosing you two off outside before she would let you into the house?”
“Yes.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “But Susan’s not here this time.”
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “But why are we doing this again?” He held up an apron. “And why do I need this?”
“You’ll want that to store your stash of balloons so you can outrun the rest. And I may have had more paint balloons—”
“You had all the paint balloons!” Bowie shouted at them.
Sage turned around to face her. “You had a few.”
“The ones that didn’t smash when you threw them at me.”
Sage grinned over her shoulder at Duke. “It’s true and it was fantastic.”
A sting of pain ran over her shoulder and she heard a “pop” sound before color splashed over her cheek. She jumped and let out a little scream that mingled with Bowie’s laughter.
Sage wiped her face and looked at the blue paint. “It’s on.” She grabbed Duke’s hand and pulled him into the fighting zone, and then split away to run toward her basket. Excitement, shouting, laughter, and threats came from the group as they ran to their own pile of balloons.
“They’re color coordinated,” Bowie shouted. “That way when you’re covered in blue, you’ll know I’m just that good.”
“You wish!” As Sage filled up her apron, another balloon hit her leg. She glanced at the green color and looked up to find Duke grinning.
“Big mistake, Falkner!”
She sent a balloon flying through the air in his direction just as another balloon hit her. Before she knew it, the paint balloon fight was in full swing. Blue, green, red, yellow, and orange colors splashed across all their T-shirts, painted the grass, and a few stray ones even hit the gazebo. The game turned wild quickly. No one teamed up together. It was one for all, until Sage bumped into Duke behind a cluster of bushes.
“Oooo.” Sage laughed and reached in her apron for a balloon. When Duke’s lips covered hers she forgot her mission and her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer until he was lying on top of her, his knee between her legs, one hand gripping the back of her head and their tongues playing their own game of hide and seek.
She’d never tire of this man’s lips, the taste, the texture, and the amazing way they dragged her away from the present and into a world that only belonged to them.
The hot kiss could’ve gone anywhere. Sage had been so lost in him, she’d forgotten they were playing a game, forgotten there was a crowd around and forgot that in a few short hours, she’d be facing the man who had ordered a hit on her. That was, until not one, not two, but handfuls of balloons smashed over their bodies.
Sage screamed in Duke’s mouth, even if he was the one who was getting more attacked.
“Come on,” Hawk shouted, sending two more balloons at them. “This isn’t spin the bottle!”