Page 62 of Demitri

I open up the bay door and slide behind the wheel, my hands gripping the steering wheel before sliding my fingers along the buttery soft leather encasing it. I look over to the passenger seat and briefly think I see Mika sitting here, smiling, the wind blowing her hair around her face through the open windows. I blink, and she’s gone. This car is beautiful. But she’s also haunted. Memories of days gone by, before my world crashed around me, assault me for a few more minutes. When I open my eyes, all the past thoughts disappear to be replaced with Mia’s smiling face.

Sometimes you have to face the fact that it’s time to move forward. To put the past where it belongs, to find your happiness in your future. I loved Mika. I’ll never forget her. Or the pain her death caused me. But that love? It’s not the same. It’s not as big as the love I have for Mia. That might be because our opportunity for love was cut short, or it might be the realization that can only come with age. Regardless, I feel like I’m ready now. Ready to move on, to move forward. And in order to do that, I have to also be ready to move on from this car. I know of a buyer in Diamond Cove, some billionaire who runs a company with his brothers.

It’s time to make the call. Time to move forward. Time to tell Mia what she means to me.

The bar is sleepy this Wednesday night. Grady is at his post in the far corner, a discarded basket and half empty pitcher of beer on the table. I slide in and look at him. He’s obviously tired, like he should be sleeping instead of sitting here.

“Why are you doing this?” Skipping the greeting, I go right into the questions.

“Hello to you, too. Hope you had a great day. I see you survived. You’re welcome for making sure your girlfriend is safe and no boogiemen are coming after her.” He raises a brow at me.

“Yeah, yeah, I appreciate you, but you look like shit, friend. You need a real meal and sleep. So what’s the deal?”

“You asking cause you care about me?” He smirks.

“Yeah, let’s go with that. I care about you, Grady. Now spill the beans.”

“The young people these days call it tea. You’re showing your age with beans.”

“Deflection. Stop with the bullshit.”

“I’m here because I have to be.” He sighs. “I’m here because I can’t be anywhere else.”

“Why? Why you and Aiden? Don’t you fuckers have a whole staff under you that could do this?”

“Besides the point. We have to do this because we do.”

I stare at him and replay what he said with what he didn’t. There’s more he isn’t saying, but what is it? I follow his eyes to the bar and the empty corner where Mia’s friends usually sit, and it hits me like a truck. Aiden’s reluctance to talk about his secret obsession. Grady’s insistence that he personally be here.

“I get it now.”

He stares at me, trying to figure out if I’m the one bullshitting, but nods when he realizes I’m not.

“We all have our crosses to bear,” he quietly states. “This is ours.”

I don’t ask him questions about which girl caught his eye. Not my business, and when or if he wants to talk about it, he will. We sit in silence, Grady’s eyes constantly roaming the room, mine never straying far from watching Mia do what she does best.

Grady gets a text and reads it before looking up at me, a hardness to his features I’ve only seen a few times before.

“They have your guys. Caught them red-handed and incapacitated them.”

“Where are they?”

“Place on the edge of town. Aiden’s on his way here so we can go get answers.”

“You’re going, too?”

“I’m the one who gets the answers.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

MIA

It’sdead in here tonight. Grady has been at his post all night looking both bored and on edge. He also looks like he needs a nap, if I’m being honest. I heard from Aiden that they had a call out this weekend to go help someone and it didn’t go down as smoothly as they were hoping. I know what they do, and it’s dangerous. Unstable people always are. I can only imagine how Brett would have reacted if a gang of bulked up guys had shown up to move me away from him. Someone would have ended up dead.

I’m counting inventory when Demitri comes in, looking a little stressed himself. He doesn’t say anything to me, which is our normal. Hiding in plain sight, but not flaunting it. I pour him a coke and open a beer bottle for him before he even makes it to the bar.

“Thanks.” No emotion, and he’s not meeting my eyes.

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