6. Dane

6

DANE

S elene’s a lot tougher than she looks. I can sense a “hard knocks” upbringing. A lot of guys in the Navy came from the same type of background. Hell, my family was anything but typical, come to think of it.

She’s not a pushover, and has tons of moxie. I don’t want to be attracted to her for a grocery list of reasons, but I can’t help it. It’s even harder to resist now that I find I respect her, too.

A lot of people in her situation would be a complete nervous wreck. Even though she’s deeply worried about her brother, she’s not falling apart. She’s taking proactive steps to find him and protect herself while she does it.

Guilt keeps me from making a move. Selene deserves someone better than me. I fucked up really bad and it turned into a nightmare for me, and a tragedy for a whole lot of other people.

But she’s stuck with me for now, and I have to make the best of it. I just have to avoid acting on these feelings. Keeping her safe and finding her brother are the priorities, not acting on a crush.

“You’re awfully quiet, Dane. And you’ve got a look on your face like you just sucked on a lemon. What’s up?”

I shake my head and pull off the freeway .

“I’m just trying to remember which is the right exit.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

I give her a look.

“Why do you always have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“Make it obvious that you don’t believe me?”

“You mean, you want me to pretend that I don’t know you’re lying?” She blinks several times and shrugs. “Is that what you’re asking?”

“No! Of course not.”

“Then what are you asking me? Because I know you weren’t just concentrating on your driving. You had a thought, it was damn unpleasant, and you don’t want to tell me what it was. Just tell me that you don’t want to tell me what I want you to tell me.”

I almost miss my turn because she has me so confused.

“What? I have no idea what you’re talking about–this is it.”

We pull onto a gravel road, low-hanging branches thumping off the roof. Rocks pop under the tires as we slowly roll up to a cyclonic fence with rusted razor wire running across the top of its ten-foot height.

“This looks like a gulag.”

“It’s secure.”

It takes me a minute to get the lock undone. It’s gotten rusty and I need a few squirts of WD40 to get it loose. Selene watches with amusement as I quickly drive the truck through the gate and then rush to close it behind us.

“Nobody followed us, right? What are you worried about?”

“Bears.”

Her eyes go wide.

“Holy shit, for real?”

“And mountain lions, and who knows what else? Stay put, I’m going to do a sweep of the compound.”

“Compound? You’re calling two storage units converted into housing and a…is that a food truck? You’re calling this a compound? ”

“It’s mine, I’ll call it whatever I want.” I cock an eyebrow at her. “I’ll call it the poopoo palace if I damn well please.”

She laughs, a high-pitched sound that should be annoying but it isn’t. Her face glows when she laughs. It’s like she exults in being able to express herself.

I sweep the compound, and find it undisturbed since the last time I’d been through. It’s stupid, but I check for explosives and booby traps just to be safe. When I return to the truck, I don’t bother getting into the cab. I simply reach in through the open door and turn off the engine.

“It’s safe. And the food truck is because I don’t have a kitchen in the house.”

“Good. Go fire it up and make me some dinner, Chef Dane.”

“I take it that you’re hungry?”

“Yeah, we didn’t stay at my place long enough to eat.”

She turns and regards the barbed wire fence, and her smile fades.

“I guess I’m stuck living behind fences and barbed wire from now on.”

“It’s not forever. Just until I get something figured out.”

She rounds on me, putting her hands on her hips.

“You don’t have a plan?”

I remember what she’s going through, and don't take offense at her sudden flash of anger.

“I do have a plan. I need to connect with some people. But I can get you a snack first.”

The food truck smells a little musty until I turn on the hoods. I gather up some potato chips, jarred salsa, and a bottled soda.

“Here. Best I can do for now.”

“This is great, thank you.”

She uses her teeth to tear into the chip bag. Apparently, working on zombie make up for so long has given her zombie-like traits. Selene marches to the beat of her own drummer, and I envy her for how effortless she makes it all look.

I whip up some venison sausage burritos, and quickly discover that while the stove and the hoods work fine, the air conditioner is on the fritz. I peel off my sweat soaked shirt, and carry out the plated food over to the house.

I find Selene in the living room section, half asleep on the couch. The smell of food rouses her, and she smiles sleepily at me.

“My dream came true, a shirtless guy delivering me tacos.”

“Burritos, actually. The AC broke in the food truck.”

“I appreciate your sacrifice.”

I take my first bite, and realize that while the food is palatable, it’s also obviously spent a lot of time in a freezer.

“Sorry. It’s a little freezer burnt.”

“It’s fine. I’m too hungry to be picky.”

“I understand that all too well. Some of the MREs I've had fail to qualify as fit for human consumption.”

“Some of the what, now? Memories?”

“It’s an acronym. Meals Ready to Eat, or MRE. The joke is they might be ready to eat but you don’t want to.”

“So it’s like cold cuts, summer sausage, that sort of thing?”

“Oh no,” I laugh. “They come in all kinds of different varieties, none of them good. They come with a little pouch you shake up that produces enough heat to warm the so-called food. About the only things worth eating were the brownies. Guys used to play cards and bet them like poker chips.”

She laughs, her eyes shining.

“I guess simple comforts mean a lot in those circumstances, huh?”

“Yeah. And speaking of simple comforts…”

I break out a bottle of mid-tier whiskey for our meal. At her request, I dilute hers with half a can of coke. About halfway through our makeshift meal, she starts getting droopy eyelids.

“Here. Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

“I don’t care if it’s a cot or even a blanket on the floor at this point.”

I realize, somewhat sheepishly, that I haven’t even taken the plastic wrap off the mattress and box springs, let alone set them up and put sheets on them. She sits down on a cardboard box and watches while I hastily assemble the sleeping area .

“It’s really quiet out here. I can’t even hear any traffic at all.”

“I hadn’t noticed. Haven’t been able to spend much time here,” I struggle to stretch the fitted sheet over the final corner, then step back and smooth out a crease. “But I hope that means you can get some decent sleep.”

She staggers over to the bed and flops down in it.

“Tell me we’re going to find Justin?”

Unfolding the blanket, I toss it over her and let it settle from shoulders to toes. Her form becomes an indistinct hump beneath the bedding.

“We’re going to find him, Selene.”

“Tell me Moreno isn’t going to find me here?”

“Moreno doesn’t even know this place exists.”

She mumbles something else, but I can't make it out.

“Selene? What was that?”

Her only reply is a soft snore. I pull the blankets up a bit more securely. Without thinking, I brush my fingers across her smooth cheek.

I recoil as if I’ve touched a fire. What am I doing? You can’t just brush someone’s cheek because they passed out in your bed. I did it on instinct. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

I leave her to slumber and gather up some spare pillows and blankets. Once I set up a nest on the sofa, I get out my phone and start pestering people I know for help and info.

The problem is, most of the crew I used to hang with moved on after I joined the Navy. I’ve got some connections through my time in the service, but I’m not sure if this situation is something they could help with. It’s a criminal matter, not a military one.

Jax’s kid brother, Bastian, knows a thing or two about the other side of the law. I shoot him a text. The status changes to read, but he doesn’t respond. I put the phone down and fuss with the AC on the food truck for a while.

After looking in on Selene to make sure she’s all right, I return to check the phone. Bastian has gotten back to me.

It’s date night, so make it quick .

I scowl, because no big brother likes to think about his little sister getting horizontal with anyone, and that feeling never goes away. Even if you like the guy, which I do.

Do you know anybody connected to the Moreno family?

Fuck you, don’t text shit like that. I’m calling.

My phone lights up with his name. I quickly answer so the ringtone won’t awaken Selene.

“What’s up? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the Moreno family.”

“I’m smart enough to be cautious, if that’s what you mean.”

I hear my sister’s voice in the background, apparently a question because Bastian answers back.

“Caramel or chocolate fudge, either or I don’t care.”

“What are you doing?”

“Ordering food.”

“I thought it was date night. You’re staying in?”

“Yes, a date night can include ordering food in. Clearly you’ve been out of the game for a while. Now, I don’t know anyone connected that deeply to Moreno. Not anymore. But I do know a guy who might be able to get you into the upper echelon.”

I rub my eyes and sigh.

“Who might that be?”

“William Petty. He’s an accountant in Fresno.”

“An accountant? He doesn't sound Italian.”

“He’s not. He’s what they call an associate. You know, not part of the Family, but he does work for the Organization.”

“What does he do for them?”

“I don’t know for sure. He probably fixes things for them. Cleans up income from shady sources, helps move funds around to avoid paying taxes or making too many reports. That sort of thing.”

“Thanks, Bastian. Do you know where I might find him?”

“I have no fucking clue.”

“Hey,” says Harlowe, “Is that my brother? Let me talk to him. Hey, Dane.”

“Hey yourself, Sis. Sorry to intrude.”

“Oh, you’re fine. We’re on a snack break anyway. ”

I try to ignore that she even said that.

“How can you help me?”

“I can hack into the property management systems of the major hotel chains in the area and look for the name William Petty. If he’s involved with whatever Moreno has planned, he’s probably come to LA.”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I’ll get on it first thing tomorrow. For now, I assume you have Selene somewhere safe?”

“I do.”

“Good. Don’t screw this up. I vouched for you, you know. So did Bastian.”

“I know. I won’t let you guys down.”

I end the call and find it’s grown late. Stretching out on the sofa, I can’t help but think about Selene sleeping in the other room.

I have to find her brother, and spare her the pain of losing him. If I have to lean on this William Petty to do it, so be it.

I’ll do whatever it takes to protect that woman. Mind, body, and soul.