"Shasta?" he called out before heading for the only bedroom. She wasn't there. He turned and made his way to the small infirmary. He'd had Veronique set it up so his men wouldn't need to go to a hospital if they were ever injured as a result of their criminal activity. She'd visited the camp more than once to administer medical help to his rowdy crew. He wondered if she'd continue to show up since he'd stopped sleeping with her months ago. Maybe, he thought. Veronique had stayed away before, but could never seem to resist an invitation that might get her back in Anthony's good graces, and caring for his men would certainly shed a good light on her.
He found Shasta on a cot. He roused her and she opened her eyes and smiled.
"Hey, Anthony, haven't seen you in a while," she said as she sat up and shook her hair.
"My sister was visiting," he said flatly as he stared down at her. The realization that this was a bad idea landed with a thud in his brain.
She immediately stood up and pulled her shirt over her head. She hadn't been wearing pants and she now stood in front of him, ready to slip out of her black panties. He gave her a look that caused her to shrink back, doubting herself and what she thought he was there for.
"We’re all out of rubbers." Her voice was hesitant. "Dr. V ain't been around for a while, but I can please you another way.” She stared at his crotch and slowly ran her tongue over her lips. She remembered Anthony always used a condom with the girls, no exceptions. "Or, I can see if there's a spare one in the bedroom," she offered, motioning toward the door.
"No," he answered gruffly as he turned his back on her. What was he thinking? He ran his hand through his long hair and scoffed out loud. There was only one woman he wanted to be with. Whatever demon had whispered in his ear that he just needed to burn off testosterone had been a liar. There would never be another woman for Anthony. The only one he wanted was exactly where he intended to keep her.
At his home. In his bed.
“Go back to sleep, Shasta,” he said as he headed out the door.
He returned home and found X sitting on his couch with a cup of coffee.
"She hasn't budged," X commented.
"I didn't think she would," Anthony replied as he headed to the kitchen. He returned minutes later with his own mug and sat down in front of X.
"What's going on with you, Bear? What's really going on?" X asked as he leaned forward and set his cup on the coffee table.
"I wish I knew, X."
"I know you went to the camp to see Shasta." He paused. "You told me last night Christy was your woman." X rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands in front of him. "You still feel that way now?"
Anthony stared at the wall behind Alexander's head and slowly began to nod. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."
"I guess this is a game changer in more ways than one in our search for Van."
"Yes and no," Anthony said as he sat up straight and looked at X.
"I still want to find Van. He's responsible for his own debt, not Christy."
"Agreed," X added.
"But she's under my protection now. I seriously doubt those men that Lourdes met last night work for Van Chapman. I want to know who they are."
X stood and stretched. "I'm on it." He headed for the door and stopped. He turned to look at Anthony and said, "I know you probably haven't had a chance to keep up with the weather, but thought you might want to know there's a storm brewing in the Gulf. You might need to hunker down for a few days. Can't say for sure if it's going to hit us, but thought you should know."
Anthony nodded and headed for his office. He watched from the window as X drove away. A storm is brewing all right, he thought as he scratched his chin. A storm that had completely ravaged his heart and pierced his soul.
A storm called Christy Chapman.
Chapter Twenty
Naples, Florida 1978
Christy stretched and let out a big yawn before opening her eyes. When she did, she saw Anthony standing over her smiling. He had a towel wrapped around his waist, and his long black hair clung to his skin. Her eyes widened as she sat up.
"You almost slept the whole day away," he remarked.
"How long have you been standing here?" she asked.
"I just got out of the shower and walked over," he told her.
She glanced at the towel and then at his face. "Um...yeah, I can see that." She looked away as a blush crept up her neck.
Anthony knew what she was thinking and he’d already considered he might need to take things slow with her. He walked toward his dresser and grabbed some clothes. As he headed out the door he called out to Christy, "The bathroom's all yours, sweetheart."
A nice hot shower and clean clothes were what Christy needed to feel human again. She found Anthony sitting at his desk. He looked up from what he was doing and admired the view. She was standing in the doorway looking perfect, even with a bruised forehead, swollen nose and partial black eye. Her wet hair was tucked behind her ears and a stray lock hung over her forehead. She wore no makeup and tiny pearl drop earrings. A casual peach-colored blouse with three-quarter sleeves hung down right above her belly button. She had on hip hugger blue jeans and a belt with a silver heart-shaped buckle. She wore no shoes and Anthony noticed that her toenails were painted the same color as her shirt. He gulped when he noticed a shiny ring on one of her toes. He'd never seen a toe ring before and he found it extremely sexy.
He stood and approached her and noticed when she shyly looked at the floor.
"Are you hungry?" he asked her.
She looked up and smiled. "Yes, I am and I could use a couple of aspirin too."
He walked with her to the kitchen and opened the fridge. “My cleaning lady is an excellent cook and she left a few things when she was here last night. Lady's choice," he announced as he stood back and waved his hand in front of the open door.
"No chicken soup?" she asked.
"You liked my sister's chicken soup?" he asked, incredulously.
"No, not really," she laughed. "I just know that I didn't empty the container and it seems rude to throw it away."
"It's not rude to toss it. It's toxic and I can't believe you actually ate it," he told her.
"I have to admit it occurred to me that you might've been trying to poison me with it," she teased.
Twenty minutes later they both stood in front of the small television that sat on the mahogany bookshelf in Anthony’s office and watched the weather report.
“Do you think you need to take specific precautions?” Christy asked. There was concern in her eyes.
“Nah. Looks like we’ll get some outer bands as it moves up through the Gulf. Best prediction is that it might hit Texas. We’ll be in for a storm, but probably nothing out of the ordinary.” He noticed her expression of relief and he reached out and gently caressed her cheek with his thumb. “You’re safe with me, Christy,” he stated, his eyes serious.