Sons of Justice 10 Deliver Us from Evil Page 3

  “She said she will meet you anywhere that’s convenient for you.”

  “I’ll think about it. I have her number. I’ll call her to discuss options,” she said, and then they discussed some other orders and things before Talia ended the call.

  She leaned back into her leather desk chair and sighed. This was so damn frustrating. She could totally run a complete designer fabric distribution business and dominate the market, provide the best materials, especially if she could make contact with the designers she knew in Italy. There had to be a way. Why was it that she was the victim, that her life was turned upside down, and he was the criminal and got to be free? It wasn’t fair or right. She could establish an even greater company and offer so much more. Was there a way she could pull this off without giving any red flags? She didn’t have anyone to talk to about it. Not her brother or his team, and Frankie would not understand. His focus was on training her and protecting her. This sucked, as she thought of her capabilities, her talent, and business sense and how all of it was being controlled and overpowered by Barishna even though he was no longer in her life. He was free, and she continued to be a prisoner in her own world.

  * * * *

  “What’s wrong? You seem out of sorts?” Cherokee asked Talia. They sat on the back porch at the commanders’ house.

  “What do you mean?” she asked and then took a sip from her ice tea.

  Cherokee could tell that Talia had something on her mind.

  She looked at Cherokee.

  “I’m frustrated. I feel caught between what I want and what I know I can’t have. I mean I should be happy to have what I do, and to be able to work, make good money, but then there’s this need for more. To achieve more, to feel proud of my accomplishments of what I want, not what I have to do or settle for. I mean, there is so much more I could be doing. I could be making more money, negotiating things, traveling a little and—”

  “Whoa, slow down, honey. What is it you want to do?” Cherokee asked her, and as Talia explained about the phone call, the order for imported Italian fabrics and price tag of mid six figures, she was shocked and also understood her frustration. Cherokee squinted and leaned back in her chair.

  “Have you thought of a way to do it that could still keep your identity hidden and not compromise your location?” Cherokee asked her.

  She shook her head, then stood up, and turned around to face her.

  “It isn’t fair. I’ve had to give up everything. Change my last name, my life, give up my goals and dreams, and now here I am feeling so damn frustrated.”

  “It’s understandable, and you’ve grown so much, have strengthened so much.” She lowered her head.

  “Businesswise, yes, strength in certain aspects, sure, but fear holds me back as well as drives me in other aspects of my life. I want to expand my business. I want to take that job, to meet with this woman and to make this deal happen. But that choice isn’t mine. I can’t say yes. It’s been decided for me because of him.”

  “To keep you safe and out of his grasp, Talia. He finds you, finds out about your company, about you living here in Repose, and then what? These three years away from him, away from his control, his abuse, were for nothing.”

  “We don’t know if he’s dead or alive. My brother and his team can’t even find him. When do I get to be free from the fear, from the nightmares, from danger? When?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m so sorry, Talia. Maybe there’s a way you can expand but locally instead of overseas.”

  “I’m already doing that. I have an appointment with a designer in Chapmen next week. A hundred-thousand-dollar contract if I get it.”

  “So that’s awesome then.”

  “I could have five times that amount on one contract with one company if I could meet this woman I mentioned.”

  “Well, you can’t.”

  They both turned to see John standing in the doorway with Spartan. They walked onto the porch, and Cherokee gave a soft smile and then looked at Talia.

  “I’m just frustrated. It’s been three years.”

  “The first year you were recovering if I recall correctly,” Spartan replied, and Cherokee’s heart ached.

  She had learned about Talia and what happened to her, but the woman had fight in her, that was for sure. She even got a tattoo along her ribs and hip that was so intricate and detailed in order to cover the scarring she had that the woman had lain in a tattoo parlor a few towns over for hours each day until it was complete. It wasn’t like any tattoo Cherokee had seen before. It was a work of art. An artist’s capability and craft, transformed the scar and beautified it, done as a method to help Talia heal.

  “I’m still recovering,” she stated and then looked away from them.

  “We mentioned talking to someone,” John said to her.

  “No. I’ll get through it. It’s only at night anyway, and exhaustion usually is the key to getting a decent four hours of sleep.”

  “Well, the offer is there and the people we have that can provide counseling are good,” John said.

  “I’m fine, other than feeling frustrated because of business and not being able to expand. It’s just a lost opportunity.”

  “It doesn’t have to be. When this is over, you’ll be able to do what you want and expand any way you want to,” Spartan said to her.

  “The question is, when will that day come?” She asked.

  “Soon, Talia,” Spartan replied, and she rolled her eyes and then exhaled.

  “Not soon enough at all.”

  * * * *

  Talia was laughing and enjoying the music as she danced alongside Marianna. Tiana and Avana were enjoying themselves, as well, when some guys came up and joined them. They were having fun, and then Marianna said she was thirsty, so she and Talia walked toward the bar.

  Talia pushed her long blond hair behind her shoulders.

  “Here you go, ladies, have a seat,” three guys said to them.

  Marianna gave a soft smile. “Thanks, but we’re just getting a quick drink,” she said to them.

  “Aw, come on and take a little rest. You two were moving around a lot out there on the dance floor. Good at it, too,” he said, eyeing over Marianna’s body.

  The other two men were staring at Talia. She got that uneasy feeling. A gut instinct that kicked in, and as Marianna turned toward her with two drinks the bartender got them, she gave her a look. Talia understood.

  “Actually, we’re meeting some friends of ours and—”

  “Oh, can you grab us two, as well?” Tiana asked as she and Avana interrupted. Marianna handed Tiana her glass, and Talia handed hers to Avana.

  “Sure thing,” Maryanne said and smiled, and then ordered two more drinks from the bartender.

  “Hot damn, pleasure meeting you ladies. I’m Brin,” one guy said.

  Then the others introduced themselves and started talking to Avana and Tiana.

  Talia and Marianna stood side by side.

  As Avana and Tiana came closer to them, the guys still tried to flirt, but the conversation wasn’t going anywhere, and it seemed to Talia that Avana and Tiana weren’t interested. So they moved closer and formed a little circle of just the four women and talked. Suddenly, the one guy Brin placed his hand on Tiana’s shoulder, and his other friend wrapped his arm around Avana’s waist, hugging her from behind and whispering in her ear. Talia saw her friends’ facial expressions and then their body language as both women tried pressing away from the men.

  “Hey, let go of them,” Talia exclaimed.

  “I’ll get help,” Marianna said, turning around, and then she heard Marianna say “oh shit.”

  But things happened quickly. Tiana struggled to get free and then fell forward into another couple walking by. That guy reached out, but Talia slammed his hand away.

  “No, get away from her. She isn’t interested,” Talia said and reached for Avana, who was trying to press free, shoving her hands down on the guy’s arm, but he wouldn’t release her
.

  Brin stared at Talia and reached for her hip. “You got a better body anyway. Come on, honey, let’s dance,” he said and grabbed her around the waist, placed his hand over her ass, and started bringing her toward the dance floor.

  She was really trying not to lose it, but as his hand went to her ass, squeezed, and she heard Avana scream “no,” she went into protective mode. She twisted out of the guy’s hold and swept his feet out from under him, and as he fell, the crowd gasped. She reached for Avana, but the guy holding her looked shocked at what Talia had done to his friend, and he released Avana and came at Talia.

  “Why, you little bitch. You think you’re tough?” he said and reached for her, and she countered his move—he swung at her once and she ducked, then a second time, and she countered with a right hook to his face.

  When the large hand landed on her shoulder, she grabbed it, pulled it forward and flipped that guy onto his back, all while a crowd gathered. The guy she punched went to swing when a large body stepped in front of her, and his hand caught the guy’s fist, and then the guy roared in pain and fell to his knees. The bouncers started coming over as well as two big men she didn’t immediately recognize because her eyes were scanning around her, trying to see who the guy was who intervened to help her as well as remain prepared for further attack. She was in a ready stance and waiting for the next attack. Avana was crying as Marianna held onto her, and Tiana had her mouth opened in shock.

  She felt the hand go to her shoulder, and she reacted only to be held around her arms by Tat.

  “It’s over, honey,” she heard him say, and she immediately stopped struggling to get free.

  Her lips parted, her breathing was rapid still, and her eyes wide. He squinted at her, as if maybe thinking she was some wild woman, but she was protecting her friends and herself, and actually shocked that all that training she had been doing came in handy tonight and worked. She turned to look toward the two men who grabbed the two guys she just basically beat up, looked around after handing them over to the bouncers, and saw they were Basile and Vacarro.

  The guy on the ground in pain was now being escorted away by bouncers, and Spadaro stood there, looking so angry, so inconvenienced. It was he who had stepped in and blocked that one guy from hitting her with one hand. One hand? She knew they were resourceful crazy men, but he looked fine as he stared at her.

  Turning to the right, staring straight up at one angry-looking man, she locked gazes with Tat. She immediately put her hands down, slid her palms down her thighs, and went to walk forward to the bar and to where her friends were. They hugged her tight, and then the other men and women around complimented her self-defense skills. As she took a step back, feeling her body shake a bit, she heard the voice and saw Tiana, Marianna, and Avana’s eyes widen and their heads tilt back as they turned around to face the bar.

  “What the hell was that?” Tat asked her.

  She gulped and went to wipe her hands on her thighs as she looked at him. She moved her hair from her cheek, and he reached out and took her hand. She went to pull back.

  “Easy, I’m not here to hurt you. Did you look at your hand?” he asked her, and she glanced at it and saw the red knuckles.

  She shook her head. He held it and stepped close, placed a large, warm hand on her hip, and called to Ledger, who was bartending, asking him for some ice.

  “Sure thing, Tat. Nice moves, Talia. You okay?” he asked her.

  “Yes, Ledger. Thank you,” she replied, but her voice was shaking. The fact that Tat, a six-foot-three, scary, intimidating soldier was holding her wrist, was making her extremely nervous.

  “She good?” Vacarro asked, now joining them as Ledger passed the pack of ice to Tiana, who gave Tat a small smile and Talia wide eyes before turning back around. These men were so scary and hard that even her friends abandoned her at the moment. Well, not Marianna, who faced them and just listened.

  “Where did you learn to fight like that?” Tat asked her, placing the bag of ice on her fingers and hand. She pulled back, but his hold was firm. She looked way up at him and then at Vacarro and Basile, who were right next to him and her. Spadaro was off to the side, but in a dead stare at her as he took a slug from his bottle of beer.

  She couldn’t believe how small her hand looked on top of Tat’s palm as he held it and used his other hand to keep the ice over her knuckles. She squinted as the aches kicked in.

  “I just know some self-defense moves. Never thought I’d actually have to use them though.”

  “Those were more than just self-defense moves,” Vacarro said to her, eyeing her over.

  Basile was doing the same thing, and each man stood just as tall as the other. She was five feet four, and they were at least six feet three, so intimidation was an understatement, and especially with all those tattoos and muscles on their arms. They looked like badass biker dudes.

  “I’ll be okay, Tat. I appreciate the concern though,” she said and glanced at Spadaro. He stared at her, appearing just as scary as the guys who attacked her friends. They were too intense, and she really didn’t need any coddling.

  “I think I can handle this.” She went to pull her hand back, and he released it.

  “Be sure to ice it, and if it swells up, see a doctor,” he ordered in a hard, harsh tone. The sound of his commanding voice actually echoed in her chest. She nodded, and then turned to look at Marianna.

  “We better be careful when we leave here tonight. Those guys were pissed,” Marianna said to her, and she glanced over her shoulder to see that Basile and Tat heard Marianna.

  “I think we’ll be just fine.”

  “You live farther out of town. Watch for anyone following you,” Marianna said to her.

  “I will. Are you guys okay?” she asked Avana and Tiana. Avana looked very upset, and Talia reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Maybe reconsider those self-defense classes Merica had mentioned at the gym,” she suggested but glanced to the right where Tat stood along with the rest of his team, drinking beers, and then she excused herself a minute to go to the ladies’ room. She needed a breather and to actually release the fearful nervous sensations she had.

  She hurried through the crowd to the hallway where the bathrooms were. She walked toward the outdoor area and then to the side where no one was. She leaned against the corner, closed her eyes, and took several breaths. She was going to definitely have an attack tonight. She should be looking at this situation in a positive light. The training she had with Frankie paid off. She was able to defend herself and her friends against three large men. Not too shabby. Of course, if three came at her at once it would have been an entirely different story, but that wasn’t the case. Hell, she might have gotten hit if it weren’t for Spadaro. Holy shit did he look wild, and actually aggravated or annoyed with her, or so it seemed by his facial expression. Either way, she needed to stay clear of those men and definitely stay clear of pissing them off.

  She closed her eyes and just breathed in the cool evening air. The days were starting to get warmer and warmer and the nights still cool, but spring was here and soon enough summertime. She remembered the summer evenings in Italy, and despite being a prisoner and under Barishna’s control, she loved the villa and the villages around the estate. It was like something out of a movie. The short period of time there, she cherished the minutes of alone time when she could let her mind drift to a different place, a different life. Here, on the back patio of the Filling Station as the country music band played loudly, it wasn’t difficult to force her mind to focus on the present. Focusing on the past brought pain, brought sadness and a fear she must learn to give less power to.

  “You okay?” She heard the deep voice and jerked slightly, turning to the side to see Vacarro standing there.

  His dark eyes gazed over her face, her lips, and chest, then back to her eyes. She wore a nice pair of tight dress pants, a waist-length formfitting top in black, and heeled ankle boots in black. Vacarro had on a tight-fitted,
dark plum–colored T-shirt that stretched across super big muscles with tattoos showing on his arms, and he had brown hair crew cut, very military-like.

  “I’m good,” she said but held his gaze.

  He stepped closer, kept one hand in his front pocket, and in the other he held a beer and took a slug from it. He smelled so manly and sexy, and a combination of cologne, cigar, and beer. His good looks, all those muscles, and knowing he was a soldier were definite turn-ons, but she wasn’t shopping for more problems. Loneliness was a necessity of survival.

  “Your friends were lucky that at least one of you knew how to defend themselves. Do you think they’ll take you up on that idea to train at Hook’s gym?” he asked her.

  She couldn’t help but stare at him, to absorb that tough, capable persona that consumed the air around him and the rest of his team. She took a deep breath and exhaled, tried to act relaxed, and leaned back against the corner of the wall. She was feeling out of control of her life until tonight. Until that moment when she needed to use her skills to protect her friends, and then herself. She had been over things all week. The inability to have control of decisions in her life, especially with work. What did she have control over?

  “Not sure. I think the idea intimidates them,” she said, looking away from him.

  She had been intimidated to get training, too. To fall down, to be unable to defend any moves that Frankie made, no matter how small. She had been defeated mentally as well as physically, but something inside of her made her push on and find the determination to fight, to learn to fight, to have the tools to survive. She lived in fear. Not constant. Not every moment, but throughout the day, here and there things set her off. Moments when Barishna popped into her mind. The circumstances of their relationship and the deal with her father.

  When a deal went down at work and terms were negotiated, she thought of what that conversation might have gone down like between Barishna and her father. What was she traded for besides money?

  When fingers brushed her chin, it shocked her. She looked at Vacarro, way up toward his face, her eyes wide, heart instantly pounding. She absorbed so much of him so quickly. The chiseled face, serious dark eyes, muscular forearm, and thick, hard fingers, gently tilting her chin up toward him. She couldn’t move her hands, which were pressed to the wall behind her that she leaned against.