15. Makari
Me:
Ready, big guy.
I tapped a text on my phone and hit send. I'd finished my client, and the shop was now quiet. I'd quickly cleaned after myself and wanted to look at the ledger before Dutch arrived.
I grabbed my bag from behind the counter and pulled it out. "Pull yourself together, girl," I mumbled, blowing out air.
I flipped the leger open and scanned the names, numbers, and columns. "What does any of this mean?" I asked out loud.
I traced an entry as my brother's handwriting triggered me. I knew this thing held answers, but I'd have to read between the lines. I kept reading, drowning out the fact that my phone had buzzed. The bell on the shop rang, and I jumped up and grabbed the ledger, stuffing it into my bag.
"Shit," I hissed as Dutch entered, holding a bag and a carrier with two drinks.
"What's up? You expecting someone else?" he questioned.
"You just startled me." I blew out air.
"I told you about locking doors," Dutch teased, showing me the bag. Despite all my questions for him, his presence always made me feel safe, even though I didn't want to admit it.
"You're right." I moved to lock the door and draw the blinds. My stomach was on cue with its sudden growling.
Dutch set the food on the counter. "I figured you'd be hungry."
"Thank you." I turned back to Dutch, struck by how comfortable and familiar we felt with each other. "Should I be worried? You brought privacy and lunch," I inquired, grabbing one of the cups.
Dutch smiled. "It depends. How do you feel about plantains and jerk chicken?" he asked.
"You remembered." I grinned.
"How could I forget the way you raided my mom's kitchen every Sunday?" He laughed with nostalgia in his voice.
"I should've visited. How is your mother doing?" I asked, feeling guilty at the mention of his mother.
Dutch's eyes held compassion. "You're always welcome. She'd love to see you."
I sipped my drink as he unpacked the food. My throat was tight with the history between us.
"Dutch, what are we doing?" I asked, feeling like a broken record.
"We're eating lunch," he joked, but there was struggle behind his eyes.
Dutch sighed. "I'm doing my damndest to keep you safe."
"I don't want your protection," I challenged, though I considered pushing him away.
"I'm not going anywhere," he informed me with a mouthful of food.
Remembering I was hungry, I sat down and enjoyed a bite of jerk chicken, allowing the sweet-spicy flavors to fill my mouth. We ate in silence for a while. I knew I needed to calm my grumpy stomach.
After we'd eaten for a while, I was ready to resume our conversation. "Tell me about the video now. No more stalling."
Dutch set his fork down. His shoulders tensed. "It's not?—"
"Don't tell me it's not important. I need to know if that's my brother," I snapped.
"We're not sure. It's not that simple," he answered with concern in his eyes. Maybe it was fear.
"I want to see the video. I'll know if it's my brother," I insisted.
Dutch wiped his hands on a napkin before picking up his phone. He hesitated, and I could tell he was at odds with his protective instincts.
"Please," I stated.
Dutch tapped the screen a few times and handed the phone to me. "Prepare yourself. It's not easy to watch."
Though I'd already seen the video, my heart pounded again because, this time, I could watch without having to look over my shoulder. I tapped the screen, and suddenly, I couldn't breathe when I saw the man sitting there. It's the shoulders that convinced me because his eyes were swollen shut, and the video was grainy like it'd been shared a thousand times.
"That's him! Oh God, that's Malakai!" Conviction hit me like a freight train. Is my brother alive?
Dutch was up and pulling me into his arms in a second. He took the phone from me. "Makari, we can't be sure?—"
I shook my head violently. "No, I'd recognize him anywhere. We need to find him. He's in trouble." Tears flooded my eyes.
I looked at Dutch through wet eyes and could tell he was conflicted. He did his best to shield me from this pain, but I was stubborn. "I'm going to save him with or without you."
Dutch rubbed his fatigued face. "Makari, the video isn't HD quality, which makes me think we shouldn't rush in blindly. That's what Jahlil wants you to do. Feel me?" Dutch asked, trying to soften the blow, but all I wanted was the truth.
"Why are you sugarcoating this?"
His voice dropped to a baritone. "This video could be old footage. It might be someone else. Of course, I would want it to be Malakai for your sake, but…"
I broke away from his arms. "So, while my brother is suffering, we sit on our asses and do nothing?"
"You know that's not what I'm saying. Since you were all in my mouth this morning, you would know that I asked Saint to get information on the video by any means necessary! We need more intel."
"Fuck intel. I'm going to Jahlil and confront him about the video," I snapped.
Dutch approached me with his massive frame. "It's too dangerous to enter Jahlil's territory."
I laughed bitterly. "My whole life has been dangerous. I don't care anymore."
"It's a trap!" Dutch growled, frustrated now.
I stepped to him and jabbed my finger into his chest. "What I'm not going to do is ask for your permission. We won't know until we confront him."
Dutch looked at me, not backing down, but shit, neither was I. Not when Malakai's life was on the line. Dutch's gorgeous hazel eyes narrowed. "If you think I'm going to let you do it alone, it's not happening."
"Let me?" My blood was boiling. "Since when have you ' let ' me do anything?"
"That's not how I meant it. Why are you so fucking stubborn?" he asked.
"Why are you so fucking controlling?" I countered.
We would have been face-to-face if he weren't taller than me. Instead, all I got was a whiff of his cologne as his strong arms lifted me off my feet. Our kiss was passionate and desperate, like uncharted territory and coming home all at once.
At this moment, I was more scared of Dutch's arms around me than anything Jahlil could throw my way.
His lips found mine again. This time, he was gentle, and I lost myself in the kiss as our hands roamed each other's bodies. I'd forgotten about the ledger, Malakai, and any danger lurking outside. It was just Dutch and me at that moment. I tugged at his shirt, anxious to feel my skin against his.
We stumbled toward the wall. We were a mess of clashing hands as we removed each other's clothing. Dutch pressed me against the wall, dropping his mouth to my neck before traveling down to my breasts. He captured a nipple in between his teeth, making me whimper. I wanted to reciprocate and go down on him, but he never gave me the opportunity. He grabbed his dick and plunged inside. He had me digging my nails into his shoulders and gasping for air.
"Goddamn," he groaned.
I locked my legs around Dutch, trying to get some traction against the wall. I forced him to hit a different angle, deeper.
"Dick isn't supposed to be this damn good!"
Dutch put his mouth on mine, silencing me while he stroked me again. With the wall getting too slippery, he put me on my feet and turned me around. He plunged inside, causing a smacking noise. He held my waist to keep me in place while he pushed inside my moisture. As Dutch began to hit his peak, I melted on his dick, releasing right behind him.
"Shit," he muttered.
We ended up in the bathroom together, doing our best to clean up with water and paper towels. Afterward, we reached for our scattered clothes in the studio and dressed in a comfortable silence.
"We can head out to the safe house to shower and then return to the club this evening."
"Sounds good."
I picked up my bag and flung it over my shoulder. We exited the shop, and I locked the door. We climbed onto Dutch's bike, and I wrapped my arms around his waist and leaned against his back before he kicked the bike in gear and pulled off.