by Kiki Leach
"She mention anything about who the fuck it might've been?"
"I think she was well on her way to it until the bullets started flying like crazy through her windows. But before that, she did mention knowing about the Gambiano's helping Chino get Nikko out of Rikers. Which leads me to wonder why the hell would she know that and more importantly, why the hell would it matter to her?"
He leaned forward. "You think I snitched to her about that shit?"
"Who the hell else would bother? I know Chino told you--"
"What the fuck would I gain from some shit like that, Cheyenne?"
"I don't know, which is why I'm asking."
He shook his head at me, then turned on his heels and headed for the club. "You need to take your ass home before you start getting answers to questions you ain't gonna wanna fuckin' hear from my ass tonight," he hollered out over his shoulder. "Or from any other muthafucka out here for that matter."
After watching him disappear behind the door, I reached for my car and glimpsed at Nix from the corner of my eye. "What?" I asked him. "You're staring."
He swallowed hard and pushed his brows together. "I know you're thinking about something inside that head of yours right now, Cheyenne. What the fuck is it?"
"Nothing that I can put together right now." I hopped back into my seat and slammed the door. "Let me know later what's going on with Marleena."
He nodded and stepped back from my car, then raised his hand to throw out the peace sign as I sped into the street.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Home is Where You Are
It took more than ten minutes during what felt like a year long shower for me to realize that the water pouring down my face in buckets had come from my own eyes instead of the showerhead.
After finally taking time to rinse my hair of soap and wash the rest from my body, I shut off the water and stepped to the floor. I reached for a bath towel to wrap around myself and leaned against the edge of the counter opposite the sink, then lifted my eyes to my own reflection and wiped my face clean of water and tears.
The day had come and gone in the apparent blink of an eye after leaving the club; all I now had to show for managing to get through it in one piece was a backseat covered in the blood of a woman I hated, and clothes that had been drenched in far too much of the same.
"Baby?"
When the front door closed and the sound of Nikko's rugged voice rolled into the bathroom, I pushed myself away from the counter and quickly dried off. I threw my hair into a bun and got dressed in a bright purple tank and pair of loose shorts, then headed downstairs to greet him with a feigned smile.
"Hey." He stood in the foyer with a look of concern, an arch to his brow and tug at the corner of his mouth. I grimaced. "What is it?"
He flicked his thumb toward the door and glared. "What the fuck happened to your car out there, Cheyenne? You carry something dead around in that backseat after leaving Nix or some shit?"
I looked aside in somewhat of a panic and shook my head. "Not exactly..."
"Then what the fuck is it, baby?"
I stepped closer to him and folded my hands in front of myself. I pinched my lips as my nerves rattled, and gulped. "She wasn't technically dead when I put her in my backseat."
"Jesus Christ." He dropped back from me and sighed.
"Don't judge me."
"I'm not, baby, just... I'm not." He wrapped his hands around my arms and pulled me to him. "You know I've got no goddamn room for it with all my own shit, but..." He tipped his head forward, staring directly into my eyes. "Who the fuck is 'she' and what the fuck happened out there?"
I lowered my attention to his throat and took in a breath before responding. "A woman I know from the club was shot tonight," I told him, "right in front me."
His mouth dropped as his hands tightened around me. "Christ."
"I'm fine, obviously, but..." I moved further into his space and inhaled him. "I don't know about her right now -- how she's doing and all that."
"Who the fuck was she?"
"A former friend of my mother."
"You know who the fuck shot her?" he asked. "Someone connected to your mother or the club?"
"I don't really know anything just yet--"
"Where the fuck was she shot, Cheyenne? Out there at the club?"
"Her apartment complex, not far from it; the bullets came flying through her kitchen window. It's where I met up with Nix earlier."
"What's the name of the apartments, baby?"
"Macadamia, like the cookie. Have you ever heard of them?"
"They sound familiar...." His eyes became curious as he lowered his hands from me and grunted. "Think my old man maybe mentioned 'em once or twice some years back."
"Do you remember why he would've?"
"Meeting up with random pussy? Not sure." I crossed my arms and rolled my eyes toward the ceiling in disgust. He soured. "You think he might've had something to do with this shit?"
"I don't know. But that woman -- her name is Marleena -- knows about the Gambiano's helping to get you out of Rikers."
"How the fuck...?" His face hardened as his attention shifted toward the kitchen. "That shit didn't come from Snake?"
"He says no."
"Then you think my old man would've been the one to mention that shit to her?"
"Snake mentioned them hooking up back in the day. She hooked up with everyone that wasn't already nailed down to anyone else, so it isn't much of a surprise, but--"
"What the fuck would my old man gain in telling her something like that, Cheyenne?"
"I don't know. But for the last year or so, she's been a low-level PI for what I think might be an attorney. Either Chino knows and told her for this reason or--"
"Maybe the attorney snitched. You get a name on who it might be?"
"No. She hardly confirmed that she was working for one in particular -- I only guessed and she never actually denied it."
He looked to the floor and grit his teeth. "Shit..."
"What is it?"
"Nothing," he replied. "At least not yet, I don't think..." His eyes returned to mine as they narrowed. "You mention any of this shit to Rox?"
"I still haven't said a word to him about anything since the last time I saw him on the same day we met."
"Maybe you should; he might know some shit that can help."
"More than what he knows, he'll get onto us getting married, Nikko, and all other conversations will stop there. I'm still not ready to face him about that just yet -- knowing all too damn well what will come flying out of his mouth as a result."
"You're gonna have to talk to him at one point or another about all this shit, baby."
"I know, but right now isn't it."
He nodded. "Maybe Snake can talk to him about it instead -- ask him if he knows some shit in how somebody from your club would be aware of the goddamn Gambiano's helping me out."
"I don't think Snake is the right one for something like that," I said.
He frowned. "You think he might be in on some shit for himself?"
"I don't know that for sure either, but I also don't exactly trust him to be fully honest in what he knows and doesn't anymore."
"He give you reasons for that?"
"A few. They may be nothing or will turn out to be more than what I think; I'm waiting to see for now."
"And Nix?"
"I trust him with my entire life," I replied, "but he's loyal to the club first and foremost. There's a chance if he learned or felt Snake was full of shit with even the smallest part of this mess, the tides would turn. But I would need something concrete to show it. Otherwise, it just looks like me being paranoid, given what's happened and how we all got here in the first place, at his suggestion."
"You think anybody else in the club would be willing to seek out your old man for answers if he had 'em?"
"Maybe one. But that would take me more than asking."
I spun away from him without further response and strolle
d into the kitchen.
He followed while calling after me. "What are we gonna do with your car out there?" he questioned.
"Burn it?!"
"Shit." He draped himself across the counter and rattled his head. "I was with Green before coming home, helping him move around some shit at his place. I can have him come and pick it up tonight; get the shit washed and reupholstered if you're still wanting to drive it."
"I do."
He reached into the front pocket of his pants for his cell. "If it stays out there any longer like that, somebody's liable to call NYPD. Can't have that shit with me barely being outta fuckin' Rikers for what I did."
I nodded as he dialed, then began rummaging through his cabinets for the ingredients to make a pie.
After confirming when and how to pick up my car and explaining that I should have it back within a day at best, Nikko hung up from Green and roamed his eyes across the kitchen.
As I peeked at him, he stood up straight and grinned.
"You gonna bake something for me tonight, baby?"
"I told you that I would at some point; even though tonight's baking session is more about getting my mind off what happened with Marleena. Do you want to help me with it?"
"I wanna help you in every way I can, Cheyenne. Though I can be better with more than just an oven involved."
"I'm afraid to ask what that means."
"I think you already fuckin' know."
He laughed aloud as I smirked.
"If you really want to be useful to me tonight, you can cut up a few apples," I said. "The only fruit you have that doesn't look ten years old."
He laughed again while moving to the fridge, then glanced at me while reaching for the bag of apples. After placing them on top of the counter, he watched me dunk a plastic bowl beneath the faucet to rinse, and cleared his throat. "That Marleena woman--"
"What about her?"
"You mentioned she was a friend your mother's."
"I did."
He stepped next to me and crossed his arms while staring with a slight pinch to his brows as I dried the bowl and placed it near the bag. "You weren't too much a fan of her?"
"She was toxic as hell, much like the rest of the club could be at times. And she started as a clubwhore looking to make her way in with one of the brothers... My mother was far too damn trusting with too many people at too many times in her life," I told him. "I sometimes think if she had been a little more wary of those looking to use her for their own gain, she'd still be here in some respect. But... I don't know that for sure."
"You ever try talking to her about it before she passed?"
"I did, a few times. But she was never one for really listening to what I had to say if it wasn't something she wanted to hear."
"Yeah..." He turned from me as a lump filled his throat and swallowed hard. "I can feel you on that shit."
As he began peeling and cutting the apples into thin slices, pouring them into the bowl and rinsing them off one by one, I turned on the oven and prepared rolling out the dough.
"Did your mother ever bake for you?" I asked him.
He snickered while spraying and flowering the pan. "Nah, baby, she wasn't really into it all that much. But she liked to sew."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Those curtains in my bedroom are what she made for me when I was about nine years old; a birthday gift she said I couldn't return."
"Are you known for returning things you don't want, Nikko?"
"I used to be that kinda motherfucker, yeah," he replied. "Not so much anymore."
"And why is that?"
He shrugged. "Cherishing the shit you have, regardless of if it's asked for or not should matter more than what you actually get from people," he said. "Those curtains were the last thing I remember her giving to me before she stopped with birthdays altogether."
I looked to him after placing the dough inside a pan, taking note of the pain spreading across his face. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah, baby, me too..."
After drowning the apples in enough sugar and cinnamon to rotten teeth, he placed them inside the pan and angled strips of dough until each slice was covered.
"You know how to listen to directions," I told him.
"I can, depending on what the fuck I'm being asked to do and how." He winked before placing the pan into the oven and turned on the timer, then spun back to me while smiling hard enough to nearly shatter the bones in his own face.
"What is it?"
"Nothing, baby, just... I've never done some shit like this with anybody before -- Playing house and whatnot."
"Me either, but... we're not exactly playing anymore, are we?"
"Nah, I guess not..." He moved in to wrap his hands around my face and exhaled between my lips, allowing me to swallow his taste all over again.
"My God."
He lowered his face to mine and rolled the tip of his tongue along my bottom lip. My mouth fell open as my head rolled back.
He pulled back from me and groaned. "You ever wanted anybody as much as I know you want me, baby?"
"No..." I rested my hands along either side of his waist and unconsciously tugged at his pants.
He dropped one hand from my face to wrap around my wrist and pressed my palm against his dick as it throbbed. "You fuckin' feel that shit?"
"Yes." I rolled my index around his head and stroked my thumb along his shaft before crawling my fingers to his zipper.
He chortled. "You gonna let me fuckin' taste you tonight?"
"I... Nikko?"
"You wanna fuckin' taste me?" He brushed his thumb across my mouth and released my hand, then slid two of his fingers along my inner thigh, slipping them behind my shorts and rolling them against my panties; I whimpered as he nearly reached my sex and shuffled around him to cross the room.
He stepped up behind me as I rested my hand across my chest, and slinked his arms around my waist; he pushed his hands beneath my tank to rest against the bare skin of my stomach. "That shit make you uncomfortable?"
"No." He grunted and lowered his mouth to my shoulder; his lips parted as his tongue rolled across my skin. "You touching me is..." I paused to take in a breath. "Everything you've managed to make me feel since the day we met is what I've needed from you Nikko... it's what I've ever needed from anyone; even when I didn't think I should have it, and especially from you." His lips arched into a smile as I slightly turned to look at the side of his face. "You do something to every part of me that no one else ever has and it scares the absolute hell out of me to know you in more ways than I've seen already; the power you have to make me want so much more than I know I should have is almost unbearable."
"Almost?" He snickered. "This shit ain't a risk you're willing to take with me, baby?" He dragged his mouth to the corner of my throat and brushed his lips across my pulse as it pounded between them. I moaned as his touch sent sparks flying through my body like tiny waves of electrified water -- as he brought his hand to my left breast and brushed his thumb across my nipple, hardening it within seconds. "Cheyenne." I spun around to look directly in his face. His eyes closed as he slid his tongue across his lips and bent forward to kiss my forehead. "You're not wearing a bra again," he muttered against me.
"No, I'm not."
"Fuck me, baby." He pulled back and eyed me with the pleasure of a man all too damn eager to know me for more than I was worth. "You're fuckin' teasing me again."
"I'm not doing that either."
"Then what the fuck are you doing to me, baby?"
"Nothing of what I want yet."
"And what the fuck is that?"
"Everything."
His brows arched in shock. "That the goddamn truth?" I nodded as he dropped his hands to my backside. "Shit..." He squeezed me while lowering his face to shove his tongue between my lips. I moaned while attempting to fully kiss him, but was left breathless and in want of more as he suddenly released me and stepped back.
"What is it?" I asked. He leaned against t
he counter and gulped while grinding his teeth. I stepped forward as he remained quiet and wagged his head. "What is it, Nikko?" I rested my hand against his cheek as his face flushed; his head fell to the side as his eyes closed all over again. I lifted my other hand to him and leaned in to brush the tip of my nose against his own. His eyes fluttered open at my touch; he frowned while scanning them across my face. "Nikko?"
His jaw tightened as his nostrils flared. "You weren't supposed to be real to me, baby."
"What does that mean?"
"When my old man stopped by here this morning, he said some shit outside of what I told you before."
"Which was what?"
"About Rebecca."
"Oh." My heart nearly sank beneath me as I lowered my hands from him completely, and rested them along my back. "What did he say about her?"
"That she was an exception to the kinda woman I'm used to being with. I'm realizing he was right about that shit, but not in the kinda way he thought he would be. 'Cause she was an exception to somebody like you. The kind I knew would lead me in every direction but the one I needed to go had I stayed with her -- had she actually come to me that night and I agreed to what she wanted; the shit would've led me anywhere but the place I needed to be right here and now with you, Cheyenne."
"You mean that?" I asked. He nodded. "Then why pull back from me?"
"'Cause the shit you keep saying I've got you feeling, baby, I'm feeling all of it and more; too goddamn much of it at once, and I ain't used to that kinda shit with anybody else."
I grinned. "Maybe that makes me the actual exception for you?"
"It fuckin' could." He enveloped my waist and pressed me against him, forcing me to feel the weight of his erection as it pushed against my stomach. I draped my arms across his shoulders and clasped my fingers behind his neck. "If I kiss you like I fuckin' want tonight, you're gonna be mine far beyond all this shit."
"I know."
His eyes lowered to my mouth as his arm tightened around me. "You ready for that?"
"No." I pushed my fingers into the back of his hair and jerked my shoulders. "But I don't not want it to happen."