Nine (Boyle Heights)

Ten years ago

Heron’s Nest, Maryland

The knock at her bedroom door had barely registered when the door was pushed open and Daniel barged in. Dad’s home.

"What? Drew wiped the tears away, sitting up in her bed. He’s not supposed to be home until Sunday. You think he knows?"

When does he ever get home this early from his trips? Her brother huffed. Of course he knows.

With her heart at her throat, Drew got off her bed, scrambling to find her sandals. Where’s Mom?

In her room still, I think.

Katherine! her dad called out from the front room, and from the sound of his booming voice, Drew knew he knew.

She and her brother exchanged looks before rushing out of her room. By the time they reached the front room, their mom was at the top of the staircase and their father in the middle of the front room.

How long? their dad demanded, and despite how pissed Drew had been at her mom all day, she secretly prayed she’d deny it as she had to her and Daniel. At the very least that she’d say it hadn’t been too long.

Her mom turned to Drew and her brother. Kids, go to your room—

No! her dad yelled. I want them to hear this. How long have you been fucking the coach? The ugly words stung Drew’s ears, and she brought her hands over them. How long, Katherine?

Her mom started down the stairs slowly. I won’t do this in front of the kids, she said firmly.

"Why the hell not? They’re not kids anymore, Katherine, and if the whole damn neighborhood knows it, don’t you think they do too?"

Her mom reached the bottom of the stairs and looked up at her dad. We do need to talk. I can explain it all, but this is not a conversation I’ll be having in front of them.

"You think I wanna talk about this? I just wanna hear you say it, her father yelled, even as the tears streamed down her mother’s face. His wife sent me pictures, Katherine. There’s nothing to discuss. I was just curious about how long you’ve been making a fool of me while I’m out working my ass off to put a roof over my cheating wife’s fucked-up head."

Maybe if you were home more—

The slap across her mother’s face made Drew yelp; though she brought her hands over her mouth to muffle her crying. Dad, no! Drew cried out when his backhand went up again. He stopped just in time and turned to Drew. "Please!"

As angry as she’d ever seen her father, Drew saw more behind those enraged eyes. He was hurting, in spite of it all, and she couldn’t blame him.

I just need to get a few things and I’m out of here.

Daddy, don’t go! Drew called out as he rushed past her mom and up the stairs.

She felt like a child, not an almost eighteen-year-old adult, but she was sobbing now and couldn’t even look at her mom. Her father continued upstairs as Daniel walked silently out of the room toward his bedroom.

Drew, honey . . . her mother said, but Drew still refused to acknowledge her, rushing past her and up the stairs after her dad.

Daddy, please, she cried as she reached his bedroom door and watched him pack a large suitcase in a hurry. Don’t leave us.

He stopped mid-fold of a shirt he was putting in his suitcase but didn’t look at her. I’m not leaving you or your brother, sweetheart.

Yes, you are! She sobbed. "I know what she did was bad, but I still love you and need you here with us."

He finally looked up, and his red-rimmed eyes confirmed what she’d seen earlier. He was hurting just as much as Drew was. More, and Drew’s heart ached for him. "I can’t stay here anymore, baby. But I’m not leaving you. I will always be there for you and your brother. I just can’t be anywhere near her anymore."

Zipping the suitcase quickly, he picked it up off the bed and started to the door where Drew still stood.

Can I come with you?

He stopped in front of her and hugged her. Not tonight, baby. I need to be alone.

Drew held on to him for dear life as if maybe she could somehow keep him from leaving. Maybe if he felt how much she needed him to stay, he just might change his mind. The smell of his aftershave and the starch in his perfectly pressed uniform shirt reminded her of all the times he’d come home after having been gone for days and she’d run into his arms when she was still a little girl. He’d pick her up and swing her around, making her giggle silly. She may’ve stopped running into his arms years ago, but she still greeted him with just as much love whenever he got home. He let her hold on to him for a bit longer, kissing her head, even as she sobbed into his chest.

After a few more minutes, he pulled away gently, and she looked up at him. She knew she was biased, but he’d always been so handsome in Drew’s eyes. He’d always been her Superman. How could her mother choose that stupid coach over her perfect father?

Listen to me, Dee Dee. I know it was in the heat of the moment—what I did out there. He motioned out the door. "But it’s no excuse. Hitting a woman is never acceptable, and if she wanted to press charges, she’d have every right to."

He placed his finger over Drew’s mouth when she shook her head adamantly. Then he nodded. Yes, she would, and you shouldn’t hold it against her. I wouldn’t want you to. I lost my head for a moment there, but it was wrong. I’ll have to apologize to her and thank her for not calling the cops on my ass. Just not today. He hugged Drew again when she began to fall apart, but sadly, the hug came to an end again as he pulled away. I’ll call you every day. He wiped her tears away. You and your brother can call me any time. I’m sorry this is happening, baby, but we’ll get through it. I promise.

He kissed her forehead one last time before heading out toward the stairs. Drew prayed her mom had enough sense to be out of the way and just let him go so things wouldn’t get ugly again. She wasn’t too worried about her mother calling the cops. After what her mother had done, Drew was already going to have a hard enough time trying to find it in her heart to ever forgive her. If her mother had him arrested on top of it all, right or wrong, it would only make trying to forgive her a million times worse.

Thankfully, her mother was nowhere in the front room as he walked toward the front door. Tell your brother I love him and I’ll be calling you both.

Sniffling, Drew’s face scrunched up again as he opened the front door. She watched him, holding her hands to her mouth to stifle the sobs, until he pulled out of the driveway and away from their family home forever. Hearing the door behind her, Drew turned to see her mom standing at the kitchen door.

How could you? Drew spoke through her teeth; then she remembered what her mother had started to say earlier and felt even more infuriated. He works for us—for you!—to keep you happy, and this is how you repay him?

Her mother shook her head. Honey—

Don’t call me that! Drew screamed. Don’t you ever call me that again! You ruined everything and I hate you!

Her brother walked out of the hallway just as Drew walked toward it. She didn’t even slow, just stalked past him into her room and slammed the door behind her. Plopping onto her bed, she sobbed and sobbed, hating her mother more with every trembling breath she took. She knew then that she’d never forgive her mother because there was nothing her mother could do or say that would excuse what she’d done to their family.

Chapter 1

Present day

Boyle Heights, Los Angeles, California

Drew

Yeah, that’s about right, Drew muttered under her breath as she took in the sight waiting for her by her car.

This night just kept getting better. First time in too long that Drew got the chance to go out and let her hair down, and it turned out disastrously. In the midst of her night out, she got a call that her daughter. Chelsea, was in the ER with a raging fever; then her friend Ali nearly got raped, and Ali’s boyfriend, Beast, took matters into his own hands.

As if that weren’t bad enough, the blinding reminder of the kind of guy her stupid heart used to fall for now stood there leaning against her car. His shirt was completely unbuttoned, confirming what she’d already imagined. Not only was his body ripped with muscle, but every ripple was further accentuated by tattoos.

Because of everything else going on tonight, Drew had successfully managed not to get too caught up staring at the teasing peek of ink that stuck out from under his collar and cuffs. But it was hard not to notice. She’d wondered just how much more of it was hiding under that long-sleeved dress shirt. Apparently, a lot more.

He was the epitome of what she’d finally admitted a few years back was her weakness: a dangerously smug bad boy, who she had no business thinking about what he might be like in bed. On top of it all, after making absolutely sure Ali was okay, he’d said goodnight to Ali and excused himself to take a smoke and wait for Drew outside. Cigarettes were something not allowed around her daughter, Chelsea. But did he have to look so damn good doing it, damn it?

Muggy as fuck out here, Nine said, taking a drag of his smoke then letting it out. Could you’ve taken any longer?

As incredibly annoying and insensitive as his remark was, this was good. This was very good. Aside from the fact that Drew was very spoken for and really had no business even thinking about Nine in any other way, this was a reminder of why she no longer allowed herself to get drawn in by foul-mouthed douche bags, like this jerk.

Oh, I’m sorry. She huffed, walking around the car. "My friend in there—you know the one who was nearly raped tonight—was still a little upset. I was in there trying to comfort her, before leaving her all alone for the night."

Glancing around at all the security surrounding Ali’s sister’s huge estate, Nine took one long unimpressed drag of his cigarette before dropping it to the ground and putting it out with his foot. Drew got in the car without waiting for a response from him. So what if the place was brimming with security? So what if Nine even made sure to speak to the staff inside the estate and confirmed they’d be there overnight with Ali. He knew what she’d meant by alone. Her sister was out of town, and now Beast was on the run. Drew wouldn’t let Nine make her feel stupid.

The passenger side door opened, and he slid in next to her. Drew swallowed hard, trying her damnedest to ignore her body’s sudden but undeniable awareness of him. On the ride to drop off Ali, he’d sat in the back seat, and Drew had been too busy trying to comfort Ali. Sitting this close to his potent masculinity, she noticed it was suddenly stifling in her car.

To make it worse, the entire car was instantly engulfed with the scent of him, something she’d picked up earlier. But with him in the backseat, the distraction of talking to Ali had made it less intoxicating. Only it wasn’t cologne. No. This was different: a fresh-smelling body wash or maybe hair product. Contrary to the rest of his bad-boy image, his short, thick, dark hair was impeccably groomed and styled. Mixed in was the scent of cigarette smoke, something she should hate but only disapproved of because she refused to have it around Chelsea.

I’m just saying you knew I was out here waiting and what a sticky night it is—

"Her boyfriend killed someone tonight and is now on the run—"

We don’t know he’s on the run yet, Nine said, rolling his eyes. And even if he is, he’ll be fine.

How do you know that? She turned to him, shocked by his nonchalant attitude about this whole thing.

He shrugged as a trace of that self-satisfied smirk she’d seen more than once tonight made an appearance. Because he’ll be taken care of. He’s probably more worried about her right now than he is himself.

Drew turned on the car, shaking her head. Thank God she was older and wiser. She could hardly believe she’d ever been into guys like Nine at all. She’d since concluded it was a stupid on-and-off phase she kept falling into—but not anymore.

Now I get it. She pulled out of the circular driveway of the mansion they’d been parked in front of and started down the long driveway.

Get what?

Your name or, rather, nickname. She turned to face him, breathing in deeply, when those dark eyes bored into her, because it was impossible not to. Ali said you’re reckless—

She said that? The otherwise gorgeous face soured. She hardly knows me.

Well, maybe she didn’t use those exact words. Drew glanced back at the road ahead of her, feeling bad for putting words in Ali’s mouth, but it had been something along those lines. "She just explained about your name. You’ve had so many close calls they dubbed you Mr. Nine Lives. No wonder you’d be so blasé about your friend murdering someone in cold blood—"

He beat the shit out of the asshole that nearly raped his girl. I’d have done the same thing in a fucking heartbeat. Hell, if I hadn’t been forced to get Ali out of there, I would’ve stayed and helped him do it.

Instantly, Drew was chastising her traitorous heart. Don’t you dare get all warm and fuzzy. We’re talking about murder here!

Lifting her chin, she was just starting to gather her thoughts so she could respond to that when he went on. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same for Chelsea.

Drew turned to him, her jaw dropping as they reached the end of the driveway. Don’t bring my daughter into this.

I’m just sayin’. I saw you with her tonight. Love is love, babe. I don’t even have to ask if you’d be willing to kill for her. He shrugged again, glancing out the window, and waved at the guard standing at the gate they drove through. You fuck with someone’s loved one, and you’re gambling with your own life.

Babe? Drew shook her head. This was so typical. He likely called all girls that. Instead, she focused on his full comment. As much as she’d like to argue, there was no way she could. He was right. She’d jump in front of a moving train if it meant saving her daughter.

Just as she’d begun to respond, the loudest, most obnoxious bodily noise interrupted the quiet in the car. Drew’s face was on fire the moment she realized it’d come from her belly. She stared straight ahead, eyes wide, as they both sat silent.

Please tell me that was your stomach.

Of course it was. She gasped, turning to him as if it’d come from anywhere else. I skipped lunch; then tonight was just . . . She shook her head. I’m starving. I didn’t even realize it.

"Thank God. He groaned, making a show of his relief. But I’m not gonna lie. My stomach—while not as rude as yours—is feeling the pain too. Let’s go grab something before you drop me off. My treat."

Completely mortified still, Drew questioned her sanity because, for a moment, she actually considered taking him up on his offer. Mostly because she was afraid her stomach might make that god-awful noise again. Thankfully, she came to her senses quickly enough and shook her head. It’s too late, and I still wanna stop by to see Chelsea one last time before I head home.

Her dad took her home.

Drew nodded. Yeah, it’s his weekend with her. But I know he won’t mind me stopping by to see her. He’d do the same if she were sick at my place.

"Of course he won’t mind, but won’t your man mind?"

Her man? Drew couldn’t help rolling her eyes but kept them on the road ahead of her. That I wanted to see my sick daughter who was in the ER tonight one last time before going to bed? Why would he mind?

Nine laughed under his breath, looking out the window. He white too?

Now she turned to him with a frown. What does that have to do with anything?

He turned to her, and Drew did her best not to get caught up in his chiseled facial features, especially when he smirked and it lit up his eyes under those heavy lashes. Never mind.

No. She shook her head. I’m curious now. How does him being white have anything to do—

Nine laughed out loud. See. I knew it. He’s as white as you are.

Again, she said, even more annoyed, but brought her attention back to the road since the light was green now. What does him being white have to do with this? Even more confused, she added one more thing. And am I missing something? Aren’t you white too?

"Hell no. He shook his head adamantly. I’m Hispanic. No guy in my world would be cool with his girl dropping by her ex’s house at all. Much less at this hour. But white folk are different, I guess."

She didn’t think it was possible, but his close-minded blanket statement managed to annoy her even further. Glancing at the dash, she saw it was almost one in the morning. "I’m not stopping by to see him, Nine. I’m there for my daughter. Besides—she lifted her chin, holding the wheel a little tighter—Brad and I are adults with mutual respect and trust for one another. There’s no need for me to worry about him being upset over a nonissue like this."

She’d keep to herself that first, Chelsea’s dad was gay and second, her turning down Nine’s invitation to grab something to eat at this hour of the night was exactly because she didn’t think Brad would be thrilled about it. She wasn’t even sure she’d mention having to drop Nine off tonight. Not that she thought she was doing anything wrong, but just the fact that, despite his prejudiced comments about all white people in general—and even his own people—none of that took from how damn attractive he was. It just felt wrong.

Well, there you go—

Nine stopped talking when something clicked loudly and the car lost power. With her heart spiking immediately, Drew looked down at her dash. The engine temperature warning light was on.

Has that light been on all this time? Nine asked.

Yes, but it goes off and on all the time. The sour expression she’d seen on him earlier was back when she glanced at him.

For how long?

Drew shrugged, cruising the car over to the side of the freeway while she still could. I don’t know. Weeks?

Weeks?

God, could this night get any worse? She pulled over far enough that the cars wouldn’t be whizzing by them when they got out. She scooted over the center console to get out the passenger side, even though Nine insisted she stay in the car while he looked under the hood. His blanket statement earlier still didn’t sit well with her. She wasn’t about to sit there idly and take orders from headquarters. Especially when the orders were coming from this chauvinistic caveman.

He scowled when he saw her come around the front where he stood already, frowning at the smoking engine to begin with. It’s on fire? she asked, her annoyance suddenly replaced with alarm.

No. But you’re lucky the engine shut itself off because it might’ve caught fire if it hadn’t. He pointed at the area where most of the smoke was coming from. It’s your radiator. When’s the last time you refilled the coolant?

The what? She glanced down at the engine, lifting and dropping a shoulder. Not sure what that is.

He looked at her, and the continued soured expression had her swallowing hard because even that was sexy as hell. Not sure? He shook his head without even trying to tone down his annoyance. Then that means never. You better hope you didn’t fry your radiator because that’s expensive to replace.

How in the world could such an exasperated expression—aimed at her—be anything but annoying? The man was hot even when he was irritated with her. Between his still wide open dress shirt and her being this close to all those damn tattoo-covered muscles, the only thing annoying about it was that she had to struggle to keep her eyes on his and not his bare chest.

You have Triple A? ’Cause this ain’t going anywhere unless you wanna wait for it to cool down, but it could be a while.

Her phone was already at her ear, even as she shook her head. No way was she waiting for hours out here with Mr. Sexy Sourpuss times nine. I do have Triple A. She walked back to the car so she could pull her card out of her wallet.

Walking off a little farther from the loud cars driving by, she glanced down at the card for the phone number. She caught him checking her out when she looked up, and he didn’t even bother to mask it. Instead, he grinned in approval. Suddenly remembering her sexy dress and too high heels, she felt her face warm. Fortunately, Triple A answered at the most opportune moment, taking her attention away from him.

Rattling off her info and situation, she waited while the attendant on the other end typed up her information into their system. So much for seeing Chelsea one last time before going home. At this point, it could be hours before she could be on her way home. Her other line beeped while she waited on Triple A. She lifted the phone away from her ear, alarmed that it might be something about Chelsea.

"Of course," she muttered at the sight of Brad’s name on her screen.

Normally, he wouldn’t be calling her this late, but given the fact that he knew she’d been in the ER earlier with Chelsea, he was likely calling her back to see how she was doing. She’d completely forgotten to call or even text him to let him know Chelsea had been released.

Unwilling to cut her call with Triple A short, she decided she’d just have to call him back. Thank you for holding, Ms. Morris, the attendant said as she came back on the line. We can have someone out there, but unfortunately, the wait time at the moment is approximately an hour.

"An hour?"

The attendant apologized for the long wait and offered to look into a truck in a different area if she wanted.

Drew let her head fall back with a groan. Whichever you can get here sooner works for me.

It wasn’t until she looked up to see Nine still shaking his head as he stared at her smoking radiator, that she realized, not only would she be stuck waiting around for at least another hour, she’d be doing it in the confinement of her car—with Nine.

Do you have an Uber or Lyft account? she asked as she reached the car and leaned against it.

Yeah, why? Nine asked, peering at her. What happened with Triple A?

Oh, they’re coming. She grimaced at the thought. But the wait time is about an hour. No sense in you waiting around that long since we’ll both be going our separate ways anyway. I figure I’ve made you wait long enough tonight: first at the ER and then while I comforted Ali. Now this. I apologize for the inconvenience, but—

She paused when her phone rang. Glancing down at it, a bit alarmed, she worried again it might be about Chelsea. Maybe Phoenix had been forced to take her back to the ER. Frowning, she stifled a groan when she saw the name on the screen.

Is that Triple A calling back?

No. She shook her head. But I have to take this. He called when I was on the phone with Triple A. Hey, Brad. As soon as she answered, she took a few steps away from the car—and Nine. Sorry, you called when I was on the phone with Triple A. My radiator overheated, and now I’m waiting for them to come and tow me off the freeway.

He was quiet for a moment before responding. I know it’s later here, but it still has to be past midnight there, right? And you’re on the freeway?

Yes, it’s almost one. You know how it is at the ER. They took forever, but they finally released Chelsea. Then I had to drive Ali home.

Thankfully, the subject was momentarily changed because of that last comment. When he’d called earlier and she’d spoken to him at the ER, there was too much going on for her to explain it all. Even now wasn’t the time or the place to explain the convoluted story about Ali. So she gave him the short and dirty explanation. When she was done, she added one last thing. We don’t know what’s gonna happen next, but Ali’s extremely upset because, since her boyfriend is on probation, she’s afraid he may run instead of turn himself in.

He was quiet again, and Drew knew it was a lot to take in, so she waited for him to let it all simmer. What’s he on probation for? Drew thought about it for a moment, but before she could tell him, a loud semi drove by, making her heart thud, and he went on. Wait. Are you outside? On the side of the freeway?

Yes, she said. I have to wait for Triple A. They said it might be awhile.

Why aren’t you locked in your car, babe? It’s dangerous. You’re all by yourself out there in the middle of the night.

Pinching the rim of her nose, she closed her eyes but refused to lie, especially since she wasn’t doing anything wrong. I’m not alone. Beast’s— She cleared her throat, deciding it’d be better if she used his real name. Leo’s . . . Uh, Ali’s boyfriend’s friend, the one who rushed us out of the party tonight, has been stuck with us all night. I was driving him home when the power in my car went out.

More unnerving silence ensued before he went on. They call her boyfriend Beast?

Of course he caught that. Drew exhaled softly. Yeah, something to do with his boxing, she said quickly. Anyway, I just got off with Triple A, so I probably will go sit in my car now.

Feeling her stomach rumble again, she was glad for the loud passing cars.

What’s this guy’s name? Beast’s friend?

Damn it, she’d never thought to ask him about his real name. Nine. She’d lowered her voice but still tried to say it as casually as she could. Then she glanced up at Nine. Of course, he’d be smirking smugly.

Nine?

She turned her back to Nine, taking another step away. Yeah, another nickname. Listen. It’s really hard to hear you with all the cars passing. I’ll text you an update once I’m home in case you’re asleep by then.

Nah, I won’t be able to sleep until I know you’re home safe. I’ll wait up. Call me when you get home.

Drew started to agree, in a hurry to end the call, when he asked her one more thing. How old are these guys?

She could see why he’d ask. He knew Ali was considerably younger than her, so he was probably wondering if her boyfriend and his friends were Ali’s age.

Not the case.

Glancing back at Nine, who was staring down at his phone screen, she could only hope he was calling Uber or Lyft. She knew Beast was thirty, but she had no idea how old Nine was. If she had to guess though, he was about the same age. But it didn’t matter. Last thing she wanted was for Nine to overhear them discussing him. Around my age, I think.

She didn’t elaborate further because she didn’t want to encourage more talk of Nine. She’d been spot on about turning down Nine’s invitation to grab something to eat. Already, she was certain Brad would be asking more about Nine when she called him later. Had he called and they’d been somewhere eating at this hour, things might’ve felt even more uncomfortable than they already did.

Once off the phone, she was forced to endure Nine’s ongoing smug smirk as she walked back toward him, but she ignored it. Did you get a ride?

That seemed to wipe the smirk away. Instead, he shook his head with that now familiar almost annoyed expression. "I’m not leaving you out here on your own. I can wait an hour then call for a ride."

You don’t have to. She frowned. I’ve already made you wait enough tonight. I’ll be fine, really. I’ll just lock myself in the car.

Nine peered at her, strangely now. "Would Brad leave you out here?"

She pressed her lips together because she got the feeling the question had everything to do with his White folk are different, I guess, mentality.

Brad’s my boyfriend.

I know that. I’m just saying, boyfriend or not, no dude would just hop in a car and leave a chick out here on her own.

But a white guy might? She kept her thoughts to herself. After the night she’d had, she was in no mood to verbally spar with him. She may not know a whole lot about him, including his real name, but there was one thing she’d picked up on about him already: he could be argumentative.

Well, if you insist, but I think maybe we should sit in the car.

She started around to the driver side. No, come in this way. Nine pointed at the passenger side. Too dangerous that way.

Drew wasn’t sure if she just had a chip on her shoulder because he’d pretty much labeled himself a caveman, but it didn’t sound like a request. Again, it sounded more like an order. Though another huge semi whizzing by and shaking the whole car had her going toward the passenger side anyway. She opened the door then realized she’d have to awkwardly climb over the center console—with him watching this time—then again when the tow truck finally arrived. I’ll just sit in the backseat. She reached for the back door. No sense in climbing back and forth over that thing.

She got in the car, and to her surprise, he stood at the open door as if waiting for her to scoot over. Turning to face his six pack right at her eye level, she took a deep breath, swallowing hard again. What are you doing?

Slide all the way in.

Why? Aren’t you sitting in the front?

Nah, we’re gonna be here an hour. I’m not gonna sit there backwards the whole time and get a stiff neck. Scoot over.

Stupidly and because she really didn’t know how to argue without sounding petty, she slid over. She’d hoped, with him in the front, he might not hear if her stomach did the growling thing again. Once again, she was overwhelmed by his presence next to her and that nerve-altering scent as soon as he