Chapter 12
Tiernan
We make it to the gym by early afternoon. I refused to rush this morning. Arlo needed extra sleep after last night, and I knew Diesel would take care of things. There’s a reason he has a key.
I throw an arm around Arlo, settling him against my side as if he’s always been there. I’m claiming him. He’s mine and I want my boys to see it.
Diesel clocks us first. Arlo tenses next to me, but Diesel’s only acknowledgment is a sly, knowing smile. Those big brown eyes of his brimming with delight. Tank’s the one who’s gonna make a scene. I don’t care. I’m ready for it.
“The Black Wolf’s got himself a cub.” Tanks face lights up. His favorite thing is shit-talking. “T, you dog—”
He stops speaking abruptly when Diesel’s hand hits the back of his head with enough force to knock him forward.
“What the hell, Diesel!” he protests.
“Shut it, Tank. Before you get yourself in too deep.”
Saint snorts with amusement at Tank’s predicament. He loves seeing Tank get taken down a peg. He gives me a half-smile, which is equivalent to a ringing endorsement from him.
Suerte doesn’t comment. He rarely does, but he nods his head, and that’s enough for me.
Anvil should be in soon. Like a lot of my guys, he has a gig some nights as a bouncer, so he trains later in the day.
My shoulders relax. That’s done. Arlo quietly observes everything but doesn’t comment. He just relaxes against me, his body loose. That I’ve earned this level of trust from him makes my chest ache in the best possible way.
We head to the office first. I brought my truck today specifically because I want Arlo to bring all of his belongings home. No more sleeping at the gym.
He doesn’t fight me, just gathers his stuff together and packs it in an old delivery box. I put it by the office door so we can take it with us when we leave for the day.
“I’ve been thinking.”
“Oh yeah?” His smile is warmth and sunshine. “About what?” His tone is low and sensual.
I smirk.
“Always that, but later. About work.”
“What about work?” He sounds confused, and that’s not what I want.
“I’m thinking of training you on the bookkeeping stuff.” His pretty emerald eyes light up with interest.
“Seriously?”
“Oh yeah, it’s really a chore for me but I think you might enjoy it. What do you think?”
“Yeah! I’d like that, Tier. Math was my best class in high school.”
That makes me grin because that fits him.
“Great. We can start right now. We’ll have to share until I can get another laptop but that shouldn’t be an issue while I’m showing you the ropes.”
“Yes! Just let me grab something to take notes on. Be right back.” He rushes off to find what he needs, face full of anticipation. Warmth unfurls in my chest at his enthusiasm.
We last about two hours before I want to throw my laptop across the room.
Not because of Arlo. He’s doing remarkably well.
It’s just that he’s asking questions I don’t know the answers to, and it’s frustrating.
I’m going to have to get my CPA in here to help him out.
I can tell he’s going to be much better at it than I ever was.
My accountant will be thrilled. He never lets it show, but I know I’m an annoying client.
“Let’s take a break for a bit.” I say, needing some coffee and maybe a few minutes with the heavy bag. Paperwork is the bane of my existence.
Arlo gives me that gentle, understanding smile that makes my stomach swoop. I kiss him on the cheek, breathing in his clean soap smell. He’s different today, more confident, more comfortable in his own skin, and it’s beautiful to watch.
“I’m going to finish up some of the daily stuff.” He tells me as he heads to the back to grab today’s deliveries.
Filling up my water bottle, I decide to forgo coffee and hit the bag instead. Diesel tapes up my hands, and soon I’ve got a steady rhythm going. I drop into the familiarity of it, enjoying the comfort of routine.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Arlo come out from the back and begin to tear down the delivery boxes for recycling.
With the almost break-in last night, I feel a lot better when I can see him.
I checked the camera replay last night, and it gave me a clear picture of the guy, so if he comes back, I’ll recognize him.
It was strange, though. He was wearing a suit and tie, not your typical attire for a thief.
Especially in this neighborhood. He didn’t notice the cameras either, and it’s not like I have them hidden.
Arlo takes a load of boxes out to the recycling. I watch him go, absently wondering if I should go with him. I don’t, but I keep an eye on the door for his return.
When he doesn’t come back right away, I’m immediately on alert. I steady the bag and head for the door. Something doesn’t feel right, and my body tenses. I walk faster.
The minute I’m through the door, I know my intuition was on point. Arlo stands next to the recycling bin, still as a statue while some guy is holding his arm far too tightly. I immediately recognize the guy from the camera last night, even with the different suit.
He’s objectively attractive. Typical blonde, blue-eyed All-American type, but it’s all on the exterior. There’s a hardness to his face, and he looks at Arlo with ownership, not warmth.
“Arlo, I’m just worried about you. I know how you are when you get emotional. Let’s just go home. We can talk about everything there.” The man coaxes, but his eyes are narrow and his face is sly.
My jaw clenches because I’ve heard enough about Derek to know who this motherfucker is and there’s no way in hell Arlo’s going anywhere with him.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Derek.” Arlo says, but I hear the wobble in his voice.
Something tightens in my chest as I move forward, stepping between them. Derek looks up in shock, letting go of Arlo’s arm as he steps back.
“You don’t touch him. Ever.” The steel in my voice is absolute.
“Who the fuck are you?” Derek demands.
I watch his face as it morphs from coercion to fury in the space of an instant. Now we see the real Derek. Arlo does too, if the distressed look on his face is anything to go by. I’m sure Arlo’s only seen this side of Derek when they were alone.
I glance down at the iPhone Arlo is clutching tightly.
“Is that the phone you left behind?” I ask.
He nods quietly before his eyes flick to Derek, who’s watching us with narrowed eyes.
Movement behind Derek catches my gaze. There’s another guy behind him.
He’s young, probably around the same age as Arlo, thin with the same kind of face.
Almost pretty. My stomach sinks. Jesus, not another one.
It seems that Derek has a type. The fucker.
“Who the fuck is this guy, Arlo?” Derek’s face is bright red. His hands fisted at his sides. “This isn’t any of your fucking business.”
“Oh, it’s most definitely my business.”
“What the hell, Arlo? You fucking this guy. You’re such a damn slut.” Derek’s expression twists into rage.
He’s leaning forward, and I know his next move before it happens. His fist flies forward. I don’t even flinch. I know how to take a punch. Stepping back slightly, he grazes my chin, but I move with his fist and it doesn’t land like he hopes.
“My turn.” And without another word, my fist comes up and clocks him right on the jaw. Perfect placement. I didn’t even use all my strength. Derek’s knees give out and he crumbles to the ground, a stunned look on his face.
I catch sight of the guy who was standing behind him as he disappears around the corner toward the front of the building. Good. Get the hell away from this asshole.
Arlo steps up beside me, wearing a look of profound relief.
Derek gets to his feet slowly, acting as though nothing happened, but I see the wince when he moves his head too quickly. He’s wary but undeterred. A cunning smile appears on his face before he gives Arlo a triumphant look.
“You really fucked up, Arlo.” Derek sneers. “When I tell the cops how your musclebound jock here beat the shit out of a poor innocent businessman, he’ll be going to jail so damn fast his head will spin.”
I’m not afraid of this fucker, but when I open my mouth to respond, Arlo places a gentle hand on my arm.
“No, Derek. I don’t think you want the cops involved.” Arlo moves in front of me, head high, his voice steady.
“Of course, I don’t. Not as long as you come home where you belong.” Derek assures him pompously.
“No, Derek. No cops, unless you’d like me to hand them a phone full of photos, videos, and text messages documenting your abuse and controlling behavior.
I wonder what they’d make of that, Derek?
I doubt Tier would be the one going to jail, but by all means if you’d like to test it, give them a call.
” He tells him as he holds up the iPhone in his hand.
Then it hits me. He thought he was giving Arlo something he could use to track his movements, but really he just gave him a phone full of evidence. Not Derek’s smartest move.
Arlo’s standing tall now, back straight, eyes forward. Not one bit of unease in his stance.
I want to fucking cheer, I’m so damn proud of him right now.
Derek’s eyes widen as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. I’m sure Arlo’s never stood up to him like this before. I place my hand on his shoulder, a physical gesture of my support.
“Give me that phone. It’s my property. I’ll tell the cops you stole it.
” It’s a last-ditch effort, and we all know it.
Even Derek. I wait for him to try to swipe the phone from Arlo, but he hesitates, eyeing me warily.
I almost wish he would, because I wouldn’t say no to taking another swing at him.
“No.” Arlo tells him with quiet determination. “I think I’ll hang on to it for now.”
I sense movement from behind me, and I know intuitively that my boys are here, backing me up. I don’t need it, but I sure as hell appreciate it.
“Need help, boss?” Diesel asks, voice firm and a bit threatening. I almost smile but now’s not the time, so I just shake my head. I’ve got this.
“You might want to rethink this, Derek.” My voice is hard as stone, and just as unyielding.
I see the exact moment he decides it’s not worth the risk. His shoulders drop. His face is furious but resigned. He pauses, then looks at Arlo.
“You’re not worth it, anyway.” Arlo flinches, and then that fucker spits at Arlo’s feet. It takes every single bit of willpower I have not to wipe the fucking pavement with his sorry ass. Behind me, I hear Tank’s sharp intake of breath.
“What the fuck?” Tank roars as Derek walks away, but just as quickly comes Diesel’s warning hiss.
“Leave it.”
When Derek finally disappears around the corner at the end of the alley, the release of tension is practically audible.
I immediately turn to Arlo, not sure what I’ll find after that flinch that almost gutted me. Imagine my surprise at the huge smile I see instead.
“I did it.” He breathes as if talking to himself.
“Yes, you did, baby. Yes, you did.”
“I can’t believe I did that.” He says with wonder.
“I’m so damn proud of you, Lo. So damn proud.”
“I still want to punch that asshole,” Tank mutters in the background. He’s wearing that look he gets before a fight, as if he can’t wait to pummel his opponent. “Who fucking spits at someone like that? What a monumental dick.”
“Tank!” Diesel warns, but the look on his face says he wouldn’t have stopped him.
“Fine. Shutting up, but I want you to know it’s under protest.”
“Noted.” Diesel smiles, amused despite Tank’s whining. “You okay, T?”
“Yeah, we’re good.” I assure him.
Diesel smiles and claps me on the shoulder. Saint and Suerte nod before heading back inside. Tank opens his mouth, looks at Diesel, then gives me a shit-eating grin instead. Anvil, who is usually the first to lose his temper, steps up to Arlo instead.
“That bastard comes back? You tell me, yes?” he says, before marching back into the gym. I can’t stop the big ass grin that appears after they all disappear inside.
There’s nothing better than knowing the guys are in my corner.
Arlo laughs.
“Is he serious?” he asks me.
“Definitely.”
He smiles sweetly before moving confidently into my arms. Which is exactly where he belongs.
Mine.