“Baker. Is that his last name?” Reese asked.
“No, his first.”
“It’s unique. I like it.”
Spike chuckled. “Right. Anyway, Baker has connections. Not like Tex, but connections all the same. He knows people who know people. People who aren’t necessarily on the right side of the law. What I’m trying to say, and doing a shit job of it, is that you, we, don’t have to worry about the cartel showing up one day, wanting revenge or to get their hands on you.”
“Why not?” Reese whispered.
“This guy, Baker? He called in some markers. Made it clear to certain people in power that The Refuge and everyone associated with it is off limits.”
“And that’s all it took? They just agreed?” Reese asked skeptically.
“Well…no. Baker knows people.”
Reese frowned, looking frustrated. “I don’t understand.”
“You don’t need to,” Spike said. “Just be reassured that it’s over. Pablo and his men won’t be returning. They were made examples of to the rest of the cartel. It’s been made very clear that if anyone decides to step foot back in New Mexico, the entire cartel as they know it will implode from the inside out.”
“This Baker guy is that influential?” Reese asked.
“Yes.” Spike held his breath, not wanting to explain any more. The less she knew, the better off she’d be. She didn’t need to know how the dark side of the world worked. He hated that she’d been touched as much as she had by the lust, money, and power that certain industries could inspire. And that was what the cartel was. In the simplest sense of the word, it was a business. And money was their ultimate goal. Baker obviously had pull with those who could bring down the cartel like a house of cards.
“Okay,” Reese said after studying his face for a moment.
“Okay?” he asked.
“Yes. If you say we’re safe, I’ll believe you. I trust you, Gus. With my life. With the life of everyone at The Refuge. Our friends.”
Spike closed his eyes in relief. He loved this woman. So damn much. His eyes opened and he pushed Reese back until she was lying on the mattress. “How hungry are you?”
“Are we talking about food or something else?” she asked with a gleam in her eye as her hands slipped under the hem of his shirt and caressed his lower back.
His cock hardened immediately, eager for her touch. For her mouth. He didn’t need to clarify his question; he’d received his answer. He stood abruptly, his hands going to the belt around his waist. “Clothes. Off,” he grunted.
But he didn’t have to bother. She was already rushing to disrobe while keeping her gaze glued to his.
This was going to be fun. Making love with Reese always was.
“I can’t believe Alaska talked us into this,” Pipe grumbled as he straightened his bow tie. He felt as if it was strangling him. It had been a very long time since he’d worn a tuxedo, and he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be in one now.
“Right?” Owl said with a grimace. “I would think if anyone should be here, it’s Brick. Or even Tiny. They’re the pretty ones.”
Pipe nodded. The long sleeves covered up most of his tattoos, but the ones on his hands and fingers were still visible above the cuffs of the jacket. He stood out like a sore thumb in the room of bigwigs and cleaned-up men and women. His hair was too long, his beard too bushy, his accent out of place.
Basically, he was the last person who should be at this fundraiser.
When Alaska had first broached the topic of raising money for veterans, he was all for it. Said he’d be glad to do whatever was necessary. That was, until he’d learned that it was not only all the way across the country in Washington, DC…but it involved a bachelor auction.
By that time, it was too late. Alaska, Henley, little Jasna, and even Reese were already rolling with it and super-excited.
So, here he was, along with Owl.
“How long do we have to stay again?” Owl asked.
Pipe sighed. “You? You’re a spectator, you can go at any time. Though I appreciate you hauling ass all this way to have my back. Me? I’m third to last to be auctioned. Then I have to play nice with whoever bought me before I can get the hell out of here.”
Owl chuckled. “That sounds so wrong.”
Pipe’s lips turned down. It did. The whole idea of bachelor auctions, of “buying” anyone, for any reason, was ridiculous and outdated to his mind.
His phone vibrated with a text, and he pulled it out, praying it was Brick texting with some emergency that would necessitate him and Owl immediately flying back to New Mexico to The Refuge to deal with it.
He wasn’t so lucky.
Alaska
Thank you for doing this. You’re gonna raise so much money, I know it!
Pipe sighed. The only person who could’ve gotten him here, dressed up in this tux, parading in front of a bunch of women who scared the crap out of him because they were so out of his league, was Alaska. Or one of the other women who now lived at The Refuge with his friends.
Pipe
You owe me.
Alaska sent a bunch of emojis in response and Pipe put his phone back into his pocket.
“Alaska or Henley?” Owl asked.
“Alaska.”
His friend nodded and ran a finger under his collar. “You have to admit, the women aren’t hard on the eyes,” Owl observed as they looked around the crowded ballroom.
The event had around three hundred people in attendance. Pipe was supposed to be mingling with the guests, chatting with the women, and maybe men, who might bid on him later. It was supposed to be a chance to get to know people, and let them get to know him, to hopefully raise the bids in the auction.
But Pipe had never been good at small talk. He was too rough around the edges. So he stayed on the side of the room, leaning against the wall, praying the night went by quickly.
There were twenty men who would be auctioned tonight. Whoever won them would get a one-on-one dinner with their date. That was all that was promised, but Pipe had the feeling some of the women circling the room, looking like hyenas hunting for their next meal, were hoping for more.
They wouldn’t get it from him. Dinner was all Pipe had signed up for. He didn’t want or need a woman. Nope, he was perfectly happy being single.
After getting out of the SAS, the British special forces, he’d been lost. He’d seen and done too much to go back to a “normal” life. He saw bad guys around every corner. He’d started getting tattoos the day he left the military, and didn’t care that many people looked down on him because of his ink. Definitely didn’t mind that people shied away from him because they were leery. He preferred it, actually.
Being invited to be a part of The Refuge had been a lifeline for Pipe. He’d gone to America, to New Mexico, without a second thought. He loved what he and his friends had built. It truly was a refuge. Not only for them, but for the men and women who came to escape their lives for a short while.
And because he truly believed in the mission of The Refuge, to help those who suffered from PTSD, no matter if they were military or not, he was here. To raise money to help even more people.