Home > Deacon (Unfinished Hero #4)(83)

Deacon (Unfinished Hero #4)(83)
Author: Kristen Ashley

I clamped my mouth shut.

“Got four million, five hundred seventy-five thousand dollars, in cash, hidden in safe places across the country.”

My mouth dropped open.

“Took three men’s lives,” he went on and my eyes got huge. “Hunt went bad, it got to a point that it was them or me, so I picked me.”

“I’d pick that too,” I said quietly.

It was like I didn’t speak as he kept talking and I knew he had to get this out.

“Didn’t like that shit happened but those men were not good men. It’s a lot of trust but you gotta believe me when I say the world is not a poorer place without them in it.”

“I trust you.”

He stared at me a moment before he muttered, “Jesus.”

“I do.”

His gaze was softer, as was his tone, when he replied, “I know.”

I bent closer to him, lifting a hand, and curling it around the side of his neck.

Deacon kept going.

“That world needs contained, Cassie. If it isn’t contained, women like Jeannie get sucked into it. It’s a war that has no end, a job that’ll never get done, a world that leaks every day, millions of times a day, into good people’s lives. But I did my bit to keep that world contained.”

“I get it, honey,” I said gently.

“Hunted once,” he went on, “that was not for money. My man Raid, he’s got a woman, good woman. He was livin’ his own nightmare, she guided him out. Some men hurt her and did it bad. He lost his mind. Had to contain him, had to contain the situation, had to help him send a message. She was off-limits. Worked with Knight, Creed, and Sylvie, that message was sent.”

I nodded.

I understood what he was saying.

“You need to know more.”

I didn’t want more.

“Give me what you need,” I invited.

His hands moved in order to curve his arms around me, he gave me a squeeze, and I knew just with my words I’d already given him what he needed.

“Men who did what they did to Jeannie, they’re no longer breathing.”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“Not me doin’ it. Wanted them to hurt, got deep in that world to find her, found I had skills in that world. Took to it. Got really fuckin’ good at it. That’s why I became what I became and did it for money. But they knew who I was. Knew my name. What they did to Jeannie and them knowin’ who I was—so that my way in that world started and stopped with me, didn’t leak to my folks, my sister—they had to go. So I set it up so they got in a war, suffered during that war, and lost their lives to it.”

He was saying that wouldn’t leak to Glacier Lily.

“I would have done the same,” I replied.

His lips quirked. “Bullshit.”

“I’m a tough broad,” I reminded him.

He shook his head, humor lighting his eyes, but then he sobered.

“What you need to take from that is, no one knows me as Deacon Gates. No one knows why I was in that world except Raid. Deacon Gates died with Jeannie and the men who brought her low. No one even knew me as Deacon, ’cept the folks I knew in my gut I could trust. They never disappointed. They won’t. They didn’t before because I picked the right people to trust. Now, they’ll have an added incentive not to do it ’cause they know if they do, it could harm you, and they’d wake up with their throats slit.”

“Deacon,” I breathed.

“Do not mistake me.” His voice was now firm but harsh. “That world does not touch you and I will do anything, Cassidy, to make sure it doesn’t.”

“Okay,” I said soothingly. Then, to change the subject, I asked, “People had to find you, know you, and call you something, so what were you known as?”

“Ghost.”

That was kind of cool.

“Because you were hard to get a handle on?” I asked.

“Because I was dead man walking.”

I stared.

Deacon kept going.

“I was a cold motherfucker, off the grid, no life, no home, no ties, no emotions, everyone knew it. Until I came back to some rundown cabins I’d been to before that were off the beaten path. Perfect place for the minimal downtime I let myself have. Quiet place. A place no one could find me. But when I came back, a beautiful woman with attitude, amazing eyes, and lips I wanted wrapped around my dick was fightin’ with her boyfriend. Lucky me, later, I found she was stubborn, ornery, funny, strong, spoke her mind, liked dogs, to be tied up, to come hard, take it up the ass, and give it as good as she gets.” He lifted his head from the chair so his face was an inch from mine. “And she resurrected me.”

God.

God.

Deacon’s brand of sweet, this time amplified beyond imagining.

I’d never get used to it.

Because I couldn’t hold it up anymore, I dropped my head so my face was in his neck.

I clutched the other side of his neck, pushing my face in, whispering, “Baby.”

“Tried to be dead again when I let you go, Cassie. Dead doesn’t hurt. Tried fuckin’ hard to find it. But I couldn’t find it. You lived in me.”

I closed my eyes tight, pushed closer, and held on.

Deacon gave me a squeeze of his arms and kept speaking.

“Thought my luck had run out. I finally pulled my head outta my ass, made my way back to wage beautiful war, and timed it so your girl was comin’ up the lane while I was drivin’ down it.”

I opened my eyes, lifted my head, and looked at him. “Really?”

“Fuckin’ Hollywood shit, she raced to me, thought she was gonna play chicken, ram right into me or force me off the lane. She cut the wheel at the last moment, cuttin’ me off, rolled out of her truck, and started shouting.”

I started giggling.

And then I got Deacon’s grooves, his crinkles, and I felt glee.

I’d missed that too.

“If I wasn’t shocked as shit she could pull that off without damage to either vehicle, and my head wasn’t filled with gettin’ to you, I woulda bust a gut laughing too, woman.”

“In retrospect,” I said, still giggling. “It’s pretty funny.”

He continued to give me the grooves and crinkles as he agreed, “Yeah.”

He removed one arm so he could curl his hand at my jaw, fingertips in my hair, and yes, I’d missed that too.

“She’s gone.”

His tone was back to serious so I got serious too.

“I know, Deacon,” I told him. “But Milagros is pretty confused, not in a good way, about—”

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