Chapter 71 CHAPTER 71
CHAPTER 71
NARRATOR
Aaron leaned back in the leather chair inside the dimly lit warehouse office, arms crossed over his chest. Three of his men stood in front of the desk, faces serious under the single hanging bulb.
“Talk,” Aaron said quietly.
The tallest one, Marco, stepped forward and slid a thin folder across the desk. “Everything on Maya. Just like you asked.”
Aaron opened the folder. His jaw tightened as he flipped through the pages. Hospital records. Court documents. Police reports.
“Her father’s a drunk,” Marco continued. “Abusive. Been in and out of jail for assault and gambling debts. Mom’s been in a coma for almost two years after a bad fall he caused. Maya’s been paying the medical bills alone. She’s been borrowing money everywhere—loan sharks, old friends, anyone who’ll give her a dime. She’s drowning, boss.”
Aaron stared at the photo clipped to the top page: Maya smiling in an old high-school picture, eyes bright and hopeful. He closed the folder slowly.
“Anything else?” he asked, voice low.
“That’s all of it,” Marco said.
Aaron stood up, sliding the folder into his jacket. “Good work. Go home.”
The men left without another word. Aaron stayed behind for a long moment, staring at the wall. Then he grabbed his keys.
He needed air. He needed to see her.
The strip club was loud and dark, neon lights flashing across the stage. Aaron sat in a back booth, nursing a glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on her.
Maya.
She was wearing the short black waitress uniform, hair pulled up in a messy ponytail, moving between tables with trays balanced perfectly. She smiled at customers, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. When she turned and caught sight of him across the room, her whole body froze for half a second.
Aaron didn’t look away.
She finished her shift at two in the morning. He waited outside by the back door, leaning against his black SUV, arms folded. The cold night air bit at his skin, but he didn’t move.
The door opened. Maya stepped out, jacket pulled tight around her, bag slung over her shoulder. She saw him and stopped dead.
“Aaron,” she said, voice small. “What are you doing here?”
He pushed off the car and walked toward her. “I was looking for you.”
She swallowed hard. “How did you know I worked here?”
“I have people who find things out.” He stopped a few feet away, eyes scanning her face. “Why are you working in a place like this, Maya?”
She looked down at her shoes, cheeks flushing. “I needed the money. Tips are good and I owe you."
Aaron’s jaw flexed. “You don’t owe me anything.”
“I do,” she whispered. “You’ve helped me so many times. I can’t just—”
He stepped closer. The air between them crackled. “Come here.”
She hesitated, then took one step. Then another. Until she was right in front of him.
“Why are you really here?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper.
“Because I can’t stop thinking about you,” he said. “And because I needed to see you tonight.”
Her breath hitched. “Aaron…”
He reached out, fingers brushing her cheek. “Tell me to leave if you want. But I’m not going anywhere until you do.”
She didn’t tell him to leave.
Instead she closed the last inch between them. Aaron’s hand slid to the back of her neck, pulling her in. Their mouths met hard—hungry, desperate. Maya made a soft sound against his lips and he deepened the kiss, backing her up until her back hit the side of the SUV.
“You drive me crazy,” he muttered against her mouth. “Every single day.”
“You shouldn’t be here,” she breathed, but her hands were already fisting in his shirt. “This is a bad idea.”
“Feels like a good one to me.” He kissed her again, slower this time, tongue sliding against hers. She melted into him, fingers sliding up into his hair.
Aaron opened the back door of the SUV and guided her inside. He followed, pulling the door shut behind them. The moment it closed, Maya climbed into his lap, straddling him. Her short skirt rode up her thighs.
“Fuck, Maya,” he groaned, hands gripping her hips. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
She rocked against him once, slow and deliberate. “I think I do.”
He kissed her hard again, one hand sliding under her uniform top, palming her breast. She moaned into his mouth, grinding down harder.
“Aaron… we shouldn’t—”